#slowly loses control of herself

[boobchuy]

Do you have any complaints about how characters were handled in s3?

i loved the goofy plantars shenanigans but i wished we saw a bit more regarding their feelings towards the boonchuys, something like thai feud, but a bit more in the feels and personal (but i wouldnt want them to remove what we got to get that, and, once again i really wish we got s3a and s3b as separate seasons)

anddd i think i would have wanted to see marcy saved a few episodes before all in, a scenario where the girls actually talk and have more conflict shown on the screen, instead of 'lets talk about it later'. it would have been nice to give marcy a chance to shine and show her growth that isnt just in a timeskip, and isnt hindered by hiding the secret of the box being her fault

[twinvictim]

What kind of crack do you have to smoke to put Carrie on the same #girl boss level as Gone Girl. You're insane

[screampied]

gojo fucking you in your sundress bc he likes easy access and can’t control himself when he sees you. thanks for listening!

gojo fucking you in a sundress ★

cw. fem! reader, dirty talk, praise, unprotected, whiney gojo, premature ejaculation, breeding, mdni.

“uh huh,” gojo hums, listening to you ramble about your day. he slings a beefy arm around you, holding you close before planting a kiss on your forehead. you looked so pretty today—you always looked pretty, but today was a bit different. you were wearing a new sundress he bought you. with that fact alone, gojo sucks his teeth, relishing on how good you looked. it fit you perfectly, showing off every part of your sonsie curves. his eyes roam and dawdle everywhere, slowly peering down at every inch of your body before he clings onto your hips. groaning, he cuts you off. “baby, did i tell you how gorgeous you look today?”

“yeah, like five times—” you giggle, gasping once you feel him rub against you. pressed up against the kitchen counter, you feel the hardened print of his bulge poke out of his sweats. it’s hard, and as he rubs against you, you suddenly lose your train of thought. “mhm, s- satoru. are you hard?”

sibilating out a single hiss, he grunts. “maybe just a little. your thighs look so pretty. i— i just wanna,” and he buries his face into the crook of your neck, taking a second to suck against your tender skin. oh, you tasted so sweet. too sweet, your skin had a bit of a syrupy flavor to it. to him, you were simply glacé—candied, gojo satoru’s always had a sweet tooth. his tongue enticingly curls its way against your neck in a circular fashion and you let off a moan. his touch was staticky like electricity. each pad of his fingertips running against the edges of your sundress felt like dozens of little shockwaves coursing through your veins at once. “i want you s- so bad.”

“so take me then,” you tease—yet he’s serious, and the moment you say those four words, he lifts it up with a single hand, giving your ass a mean squeeze.

“i plan to, a- angel.”

as you’re still hunched over the counter, he wastes no time to spring out his cock.

it’s so cute at how soaked you were. your pretty cunt all exposed and sopping wet. between your thighs, you were nothing but a mess—drooling with heated arousal. he can smell the scent, it makes him needy for more of your taste. for more of how you feel from the inside. with an eyebrow raise, he murmurs underneath his breath. “huhh,” and a thumb of his strums straightly down your sobbing slit. “so soaked. you been playin’ with yourself, baby?”

“just a little,” you inhale honestly, biting back a moan once he drags his dick toward your opening. your beloved cunt that was dribbling with your own slick was growing impatient, his reddened tip was just aching to be inside. it’s as if the air suddenly grows substantially thick. another low groan rumbles out of him before he aligns himself. at your cute answer, it makes his snowy brows arch together in frustrated rapture. “couldn’t help it. missed you, ‘toru.”

“don’t like when ya play with her when ‘m not here, angel,” he tsks, purring against your earlobe. a thumb still spreads against your opening folds. warm breath of his ghosts against your ear and it’s enough to make you moan.

with the way your pussy’s drooling, it’s enough to make his mouth salivate. you looked appetizing, especially in this point of view. that’s right when he smears his fattened tip against your greedy little hole.

“mhm, but that’s okay. pretty girl jus’ can’t help herself sometimes,” and his voice grows low.

the rasp was hoarsely deep—you whine incessantly once he starts to slowly insert his way in, the girth of his cock clamping against your walls and it drives you to the first street of insanity. as your goopy, stretchy walls happily accept his pulsating length wholeheartedly, you bite down on your lip harshly. “look at this ass. all for fuckin’ me.”

and he spanks you, a swatting palm goes against your skin. the smacking sound rings through your ears and you whimper from the brief sting that follows for a few seconds. it almost rings through your ears like bells on a wedding day before he sinks more inches inside. after a while, he caresses your ass cheek to soothe it. gojo’s lengthy, long inches seep into your core before you whine. it doesn’t take long before he bottoms out, already having your eyeballs roll and knock to the depths of your skull. “s- satoru,” you moan, clinging onto the granite made kitchen counter.

it’s slick and clean—cold, you wriggle your ass against him and that only tempts him more. a hand of his yanks on the back of your sundress, and he’s fully in. “fuck me, ‘toru. f- fuck me.”

“your voice alone ‘s gonna make me c- cum,” he groans, and within seconds he’s fully in. you hang onto the railing of the counter, chewing down on your lip.

whimpering loudly, gojo’s so vocal against your ear. he’s smelling you—your scent, your aroma. it makes him go crazy. to think all this was because of your pretty little sundress. “fuck,” he swears, rough hands of his gripping onto the fabric sticking against your skin as he’s rutting his cock in and out of you.

prying your legs open a bit with a little pressure, a hand of his wraps around your throat gently. meanwhile, another snakes between your parted thighs. “you should wear more sundresses around me, b- baby.”

“you should buy more for me then, ‘toru,” you sweetly mewl in response. there was a bit of playfulness in your voice. his throbbing tip mashing against that same spot to make your toes curl.

you’re tasting nirvana—it’s salty, ethereal and perfect. his strokes against you was deep but thorough. gojo never misses a spot— he knows the layout of your cunt, he knows the exact areas to strike his tip at to make you weak. you’re babbling, digging your nails into the edges of the counter before gasping for air. gojo gives your spasming cunt a brief squeeze with his whole wrist before he starts whining into your ear.

“i’ll buy you anythin’ you want, angel,” and his bottom lip quivers. his sweet melodic sounds against your ear grows louder, causing your limbs to spike. his rhythm was rough but sensual and precise. “ugh,” he tilts his head back, white flimsy strands of hair falling near his naturally arched brows. your warmth, its suffocating his dick entirely. swallowing a single gulp, his adam’s apple bobs and gojo’s eyes start to roll into the backs of his head. “s- so wet inside, i missed you. i missed my wife.”

“w— wife?” you reply, but due to the shakiness under your tone, it’s more of a whine.

a grunt rumbles from gojo and a hand of his then squeezes against your thigh. taking in all of your curves was his favorite. “yeah,” he lowly whispers, bringing a single kiss against your collarbone. “gonna make you my wife someday. give you a few babies, i- i want you.”

“satoruuu,” you moan, reaching down to toy with your clit but he stops you. with quick reflexes, he grabs ahold of your wrist before pinning it back. with a sharp piston of his hips, his base thwacks against your ass before he hisses. gojo’s about to finish—he knows and you know it too. he starts to gradually slow down, yet he’s still going in deep, going in hot. “you’re right, wanna be your wife ‘n bare a few of your kids.”

“i’ll be sure to make this tummy,” and he pauses, rubbing a hand against your stomach—his palm was frigidly cold.

feverishly hot bodies clash and grind against each other in pure harmony, pure sync and it was pure bliss. “. . . . extra plump ‘n round,” he concludes his sentence, and right as he’s finalizing his single pumps, he bites into your neck. a grunt chokes from his throat, and he succumbs to the sweet euphoric sensations. the friction of your cunt sloshing and sloshing against his cock makes him whine right into your ear. “oh, f- fuck, ‘m gonna fill you with so much. take it baby, pleaseplease.”

once gojo finishes— it’s so much. it comes out in stringy ropes, velvety,

with a gripping grip clinging onto the back of your sundress, it’s almost being torn into two. once he shoots into you raw, it spurts and spurts to where you can almost hear it. just about— it sounds wet, just like you were. you jitter a bit as he’s still inside, feeling him emit such volumes of seed into you. it’s smiley and thick, gooey and goopy.

languidly, he pulls his limp cock out, watching as his hot own cum ooze out of your achy pussy. it looked so pretty that he takes a mental picture. he wanted to savor this moment—savor you being arched over like this, savor the exact color pattern of your sundress, savor everything. gojo’s dizzy, a thumb of his drags in a zigzag rotation toward your sopping entrance. you’re saturated between your thighs by now. bedaubing a digit against your opening, it coats on the pad of his finger with so much filth and he can’t help but bring it towards his mouth. doing so, he takes a quick lick, truly unfazed and unbothered, not caring he tasted his own. as you stand there on shaky legs, you moan once he smears his fat tip against your cunt— watching it try to instinctively swallow his shaft back in. it’s hardly to any avail though.

“s- satoruuu,” you pout, feeling against the back of your sundress. “my dress is ripped.”

with an airy laugh, he leans against your neck to create a slope of wet kisses near your tender skin.

“awww,” he purrs, a hand grasping onto your hip. gojo feels against the curvature of your physique before humming. “don’t worry, angel. i’ll buy ya as many sundresses you want. you’ll be the perfect mommy.”

[elliesbambi]

warnings. farm hand!ellie, farmer’s daughter!reader, dom!ellie, bratty!reader, pure smut (rough-ish sex, use of strap-on, spanking, light degradation, squirting), ellie refers to her strap-on as ‘her cock’

words. 1.7k

mdni.

thinking about farm hand!ellie…

you’re the pretty farmer’s daughter and she’s the farm hand your father hired to help out with some of the things he can no longer do at his age. they’re simple tasks, things like milking the cows, cleaning the pens, watering the crops.

but you — god, you make the job ten times more difficult. you’re always there, prancing around the farm in tiny little skirts that ride right up your ass whenever you lean over, flashing ellie your panties as you pretend to be laser focused on inspecting how the freshly planted produce are coming along, paired with the tightest crop tops known to man that you never bother wearing a bra with, your nipples hard and inviting as they poke through the shirts.

you don’t even close the bathroom window when you’re showering either, knowing full well that it overlooks the field right where ellie is working, giving her a perfect view of the water sliding over your smooth, naked body, purposefully putting on a show for her by lathering your tits in body wash or pretending to drop the soap, slowly bending down to pick it up, your glistening pussy lips peeking out from behind your ass.

you’re a little tease, and you damn well know it. whenever you catch ellie watching you, you shoot her a wink or blow her a kiss, not bothering to cover yourself or fix your clothes, uncaring that she can see practically everything. she knows you like the attention; you like the way she reacts to you, the way she constantly looks like she’s on the verge of losing control around you, just one step away from taking you in the pumpkin patch and fucking that bratty streak out of you.

and don’t get ellie wrong, she tries her best to ignore it at first. she’s here to work, not play games. she’ll dig her heels into whatever task she’s doing; trying not to nick her fingers when she’s shearing the sheep and she suddenly catches a glimpse of you skipping past on your way to the stables, going full commando under your dress that the breeze graciously causes to flutter up; trying not to outright stare when you’re hanging the washing and purposefully peg your skimpiest pair of panties right above ellie’s head, the fabric smelling of lavender and roses, a scent that makes her clit throb.

(she always ends up stealing them off the washing line when you’re not looking and tucking them away in her back pocket to get off to later, pretending that it’s actually you she’s grinding her pussy against and not just the now soaked fabric of your panties.)

but as the days pass, it gets harder and harder to ignore you, to act like what you’re doing isn’t affecting her. wherever ellie is, you’re not far behind. whether she’s stacking barrels of hay, feeding the livestock, or mending a hole in the chicken wire, you’re right there with her. and as much as ellie tries not to let her mind wander, her thoughts are never on work when you’re around; they’re on you.

she ends up fucking you in your room one day when your father goes into town to pick up a few things. it’s one of very few times she’s been inside your house, because your father doesn’t like her trekking mud through the halls after she’s been outside working all day. she had been looking for the bathroom when she passed by your room, where the loud sound of moans and whimpers were coming from. unable to stop herself, she’d looked in, and there you were — on your bed, knees drawn and spread, two fingers pumping rhythmically in and out of your pussy.

ellie was about to walk away, reminding herself that you’re the daughter of her somewhat boss, but that was when you’d looked up and seen her, and with a teasing smile, you’d tilted your head, batted those pretty lashes, and purred “why don’t you come help me, ellie? i bet yours would feel so much better…”

that did it. that crossed the line. and now—

she’s practically splitting you open on her strap, the curved tip of it slamming against your cervix and sending bursts of pleasure up your spine, her sweaty chest pressed against your even sweatier back. there’s nothing gentle about it. this is her getting back at you; finally teaching you a lesson for how much you’ve been pushing her buttons.

“this what you wanted, huh?” ellie growls in your ear, delivering a firm smack to your ass that has you squealing and rutting back against her. “this why you’ve been acting like such a needy fuckin’ slut? think i don’t know what you’ve been doing? if you wanted me to fuck you so badly, you should’ve just asked.”

the hand on your ass moves around to your front, finding your clit — red, swollen, and crying out for attention — and giving it a hard pinch between her middle and pointer finger, making you gasp sharply, before soothing it over with some quick, gentle rubs of her thumb.

“n-not a slut, els,” you pant out. “just… just wanted your attention… ngnhh.”

“that right?” ellie rasps. “well, you’ve got it now, baby. you’ve fuckin’ got it alright.”

she pushes down on the middle of your back, causing your knees to give out beneath you and your body to slump forward so that your chest is pressed against the mattress, face squishing into the pillows. ellie’s fingers dig into your hips, lifting them higher for her, her strap rabbiting in and out of your pussy at a pace that makes your head spin, like she’s seriously trying to rearrange your guts.

“ellie, ellie, ellie,” you mewl, eyes rolling back. “gonna— gonna cum. oh god...”

“no, the fuck you’re not,” ellie hisses, slapping your ass again, squeezing the fat of it firmly in her hands just for good measure. “not till i fucking say you can. slut.”

she pulls out then, and your pussy tries to protest by tightening around her strap as she moves back, the wet pop of your pussy reluctantly releasing her echoing through the room. you glance over your shoulder at her, face twisted into a desperate look, eyes begging with her not to leave you on the edge like this.

“ellie, please—”

she grabs you by the waist and flips you onto your back, then tugs you up and forward until you’re straddling her, your sticky folds sliding over the glossy tip of her strap, bumping against that swollen bundle of nerves at the top of your pussy entrance. “there we go,” ellie murmurs, more to herself than to you. “you’re gonna do the work now, baby. make it up to me for all your teasing.”

with a whine, you line yourself back up with her and sink down, both you and ellie letting out a low moan at the feeling of her filling you again, the bottom of ellie’s strap brushing deliciously against her own neglected clit. you grind against her desperately, no pausing or hesitating; just the pure, unbridled need to cum. ellie eyes the way your pussy swallows her up greedily, fitting so perfectly around her, tight like a glove, as if you can’t get enough.

“that’s it,” she hums approvingly. “ride me, baby. fuckin’ ride me. show me how bad you want it.”

you begin bouncing up and down on her strap so fast that the headboard slams against the wall. she groans, planting her feet flat on the bed so that her strap angles just right, reaching even deeper inside you, spearing you. a gasp flies from your lips and you throw your head back. ellie’s hands come up to cup your tits and play with your nipples. all the times she’s seen them poking through your shirts or silhouetted in the steamy bathroom window, now she’s finally getting the real thing.

“gonna cum, huh?” she breathes out, when your bouncing starts to get sloppier and your thighs begin to quiver. “gonna cream all over my cock, pretty girl?”

you nod frantically. “y-yes, ellie. oh, fuck, gonna—” you don’t even get to finish your sentence before you cum, mouth open in a silent scream, clenching around her strap, soaking your thighs, her abdomen, and the sheets beneath you in your release, pussy gushing like a waterfall. the force of your orgasm hits you so hard that you swear you nearly black out. you don’t even realize you’ve squirted until ellie chuckles and slaps your thigh, bringing you back into the moment.

“ffuckkkk, that’s it,” she mutters, still bouncing you, still chasing her own pleasure despite the fact that your overstimulated body has gone limp in her grasp. you’re too fucked out to be embarrassed by neither your pussy’s reaction nor the disgusting squelching sounds it makes each time ellie slams you down to the hilt. “squirting all over my cock like such a good girl. knew you had it in you.”

when she cums too, she holds you down on her strap for a good while longer, keeping the pressure of it against her clit and imagining for a moment that she’s filling you up with her cum. then she lets you off and smirks when you immediately collapse into a boneless pile next to her, curling into her side like a cat in the sun.

“s-so good,” you murmur, voice shaky and uneven, slowly coming down from your high, the thrumming between your thighs where her strap had just been lodged unrelenting, as if it’s shaped itself a home inside your womb. with a sigh, you bury your face in ellie’s neck, planting a soft kiss on her pulse-point. “that was so good, ellie.”

“yeah?” ellie responds, her hand coming down to spank your ass again, smirk widening at the little yelp you make into her neck. “you learned your lesson? gonna continue fucking with me or you gonna be a good girl from now on?”

you shake your head, though a small smile tugs at your lips. “gonna be a good girl for you, els. no more teasing, promise.”

“that’s what i thought.”

let’s just say — you’ve never been one to keep your promises. it’s not your fault ellie is so fun to mess with.

please do not steal, copy, translate or repost anywhere else ♡

[romanovthinkver]

What about Nat taking you for the first time, being soft and careful but losing control for a bit and filling you up to the brim 🥴

sorry for the wait anon, i needed to get rid of my uni things, but here we go! it came out longer than i imagined, hope you enjoy either way!

warnings: sex scenes, dom/sub dynamic, g!p nat, daddy!nat, p in v, gxg, breeding, blowjob, fingering, orgasm, age gap, dirty talks.

daddy! nat was a completely a soft bear during your first time. you weren’t nothing but an inexperienced little virgin thing and natasha was this older woman who clearly had lots of sex in the past.

she took so much care of everything. the bed had towels for the eventuality of blood loss, bottles of water were lined up on the bedside table, the room was in the right temperature, a hand towel ready to wipe you off and she already set items ready for the aftercare. everything was under her control and ready to assure every of your comfort.

wet, needy and ready you were on her big bed being eaten and stretched out for the first time, at every whimper of discomfort natasha would softly hush you and press a kiss on your thighs. she was slow, lovely, giving you time to process and let her taste you in the most delicate ways.

natasha could’ve swear she would have been happy to die between your milky thighs with her mouth and fingers deep inside you, the sweet taste of your juices tempting and the most sinful sounds rolling off your tongue were driving the older woman drunk and lustful.

she was there with you, living the moment, living the passion, living the love flowing between you. starting to memorise your body that eventually became her favourite place to be, to mark, to own.

her knee sunk into the bed and while you were worshipping her plump breasts, she was jerking herself off with grunts and moans. your pussy was soaked thanks to the two orgasms she already gave you.

she shifted both of you on the bed, her back propped up against a mountain of pillows on the bed. fully naked, skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. her breath came in shallow gasps as natasha watched you, who was positioned between her legs.

natasha’s cock was standing erect and ready as you leaned closer, breath hot against the warm flesh. you kissed the tip hesitating, lips soft and teasing. your daddy eyes fluttered closed momentarily, a low groan escaping her lips.

“oh, bunny,” she breathed, her voice thick with desire.

your tongue darted out, feeling bolder to giving the tip a series of playful kitty licks looking up at the redhead for guidance which was immediately given as big veiny hands found their way into your curls, gently tugging to guiding your movements.

“look at me, baby girl,” natasha commanded, her voice firm yet tender. you obeyed, gaze locking with her and slowly taking the cock in your mouth starting with just the tip, tongue swirling around it before starting to take more, inch by inch like a drug.

the woman’s hips bucked involuntarily, desperate to thrust deeper into your wet and welcoming mouth, hands tightened in your hairs, trying to maintain control. “take it all, bunny. I want you to take every inch.”

your eyes filled eventually with tears as the cock reached the back of the throat, but you didn’t pull away because you wanted to make your daddy proud, so you relished the sensation of pleasing her, the power and submission blending into a heady mix that made your own body tingle with arousal. bobbing head, cheeks hollowing as you sucked, tongue working the length of the massive venous cock.

natasha’s breathing grew ragged, her moans louder and more desperate. “fuck–you’re amazing, baby girl. just like that.” her fingers twisted in your hairs holding you in place firmly.

you could feel the twitching of the prick as the heavy balls of the woman prepared to release its contents, you redoubled efforts, mouth moving faster, eyes never leaving natasha’s. the connection between you was electric, the intensity almost overwhelming.

“daddy needs you to swallow, bunny,” natasha growled, her hips trembling with the effort to stay still, she was so close and only god knows how she wanted to pin you down and fuck your mouth with mercy. “can you do that for me?”

you nodded as best you could, eyes filled with determination and devotion. with one final, deep thrust, natasha released her load, filling your mouth with the warm, sticky cum. you gagged slightly but quickly composed yourself, swallowing every drop as your daddy had commanded.

the redhead whole body shuddered with pleasure as she watched you. “that’s my good girl. you took it so well, baby.” pulling you up for a kiss, your mouths meeting in a passionate, messy collision. the taste of the cum was still on your lips, and natasha licked it off, savoring the flavor.

"you're so beautiful, baby," natasha murmured against your lips. she kissed her way down to your body again and her thumb found your clit, teasing your folds. you moaned softly, body arching towards the woman.

natasha made sure you was wet enough, she was so worried to hurt you like you were made of glass. patting the tip of her cock against her pussy and brushing the tip gently over her entrance, she breathed softly "are you ready, my little one?.”

you nodded with eyes filled with trust and need. "yes, daddy. please."

the redhead positioned herself and slowly pushed the tip inside you, inch by inch, ensuring you didn't feel too much pain, her lips found yours in a slow, sweet kiss, muffling your mutual groans of pleasure and then finally she bottomed fully inside you.

"you're doing so well, princess," she praised, her voice tender and head resting on your neck, you were so warm and tight and natasha was already on the brick of blowing. she kissed you softly while you gripped at her back with nails digging in slightly.

natasha, once sure the pain went away, began to thrust gently, setting a slow and intimate pace. each movement was filled with love and adoration, her hips moving rhythmically against yours. "you feel so good, bunny. so perfect.”

you whimpered, body trembling with pleasure and need for more. "daddy! oh–more, more. please!”

natasha increased her pace gradually, her thrusts becoming more intense. "fuck–baby, i need to cum inside of you. i need to fill you up, sweet girl. daddy needs to claim you." she continued to move, her body pressed intimately against yours until she felt the climax building.

with a final thrust, the redhead released the cum inside your warm pussy, humping softly to ensure it stayed within you. "take it all, princess. you're so good for me," natasha praised, her voice full of pride and affection.

foreheads touching, breath ragged and sweet smiles painted your lips and bodies locked close, natasha caressed your hair, kissed you gently, and whispered sweet nothings. "you're my everything, bunny. you did so well," her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

she kissed you deeply again and again. your connection building stronger than ever, as you held each other close, the world outside fading away in the warmth of your shared love.

[vanteguccir]

i can’t stop thinking about when matt has been gone for a while and ur too tight and he gets frustrated because he keeps slipping out 😣

── ୨୧ !　a small blurb where Matt's cock keeps slipping out of you after he was away for too long

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

Matt had been gone for three long weeks, traveling with his brothers, and every day without him had felt like an eternity for Y/N. The moment he walked through the bedroom door, the air between them was charged with unspoken desire. They barely managed to exchange a few words before they were all over each other, lips crashing together with full force.

Matt's hands roamed over Y/N's body, relearning every curve, every dip that he had missed so much. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if she could never get enough of him. They stumbled towards the bed, shedding clothes along the way.

By the time they reached it, Y/N was breathless, her body trembling with anticipation. Matt's eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at her, his chest heaving. He took a moment to just drink her in, the sight of her lying there, waiting for him, driving him wild. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, possessive kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth with a hunger that mirrored her own.

Matt's hands were everywhere, caressing, squeezing, and teasing, eliciting soft moans from Y/N's lips. He kissed his way down her neck, over her collarbone, and to her tits, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking gently before giving the same attention to the other. Y/N arched her back, pressing herself against him, desperate for more.

When Matt finally positioned himself between her legs, Y/N was already wet and ready for him, her body aching with need. He took his time, teasing her folds with the head of his cock, spreading her arousal over himself.

She whimpered, her hips bucking, wanting more. But as he began to push inside her, he found it difficult. She was so tight, her body not having had him for so long that he could barely get the head in.

"God, babe." He groaned, his voice rough with need. "You're so tight... I can't..." He tried again, pushing slowly, savoring the way her body enveloped him, but just as he felt the head slip inside, it popped back out.

The sensation was maddening for both of them. The brief moment of penetration sent jolts of pleasure through Matt, making his breath hitch, and his grip on her thighs tighten. For Y/N, the feeling of being stretched, even momentarily, was electrifying. But each time he slipped out, it left them both on the edge, the pleasure cut short.

"Fucking hell, angel. How could you even become this tight? Never been like this since I fucked y' for the first time."

Matt's jaw clenched in frustration. He adjusted his angle, trying to find a way to ease himself in without losing control. He pressed forward again, feeling the delicious resistance as her tightness gave way, the head of his cock slipping just inside her entrance. The sensation was exquisite, her heat and tightness making his whole body shiver. But as he tried to push further, he slipped out again, the sudden loss of contact leaving him groaning in frustration.

Y/N could see the tension in his eyes, the way his muscles strained as he tried to control himself, a moan scaping her lips with the vision, moving her hips.

But Matt's patience was wearing thin. The weeks apart, the constant longing, and now the barrier between them, it was all too much. With a growl of frustration, he tried again, the head slipping in and out, each time sending a shock of pleasure through them both. The sensation was intoxicating, the constant edging driving them both wild with need.

"Look at you." Matt growled, his voice low and harsh. "So tight, can't even take me properly." He pushed in again, only to slip out, and Y/N whimpered at the loss. "Pathetic, huh, angel? Desperate for it, and yet your body can't handle it. Can't handle my cock."

Y/N's breaths came in quick, shallow gasps as she felt him tease her entrance again and again. The brief moments of penetration were enough to send sparks of pleasure through her, making her body tremble. But each time he slipped out, the pleasure was abruptly cut off, leaving her whimpering for more.

Matt's frustration reached its peak. The need to be inside her overwhelmed him. With a growl, he gripped her hips tightly, knowing for sure her skin would be bruised by morning, and thrust forward with force, burying himself inside her in one swift, deep stroke.

Y/N cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure as he filled her completely, her body stretching to accommodate him. The initial pain of his forceful entry sent a shockwave through her, but it was quickly overtaken by a flood of intense pleasure. Her body trembled uncontrollably, her eyes rolling back in her head as she struggled to breathe. The sensation of being so utterly filled, so completely taken, made her stomach flutter wildly.

"Fuck, angel." Matt groaned, his voice thick with desire. "You're so tight, squeezing me so good... It's like you were made for me."

"Oh, Matt..." She moaned, her voice trembling. "So good... so full..."

Matt's eyes locked onto hers, his own breath ragged.

"You okay?" He asked, his voice low and strained, a drop of concern despite his overwhelming need.

Y/N nodded, her body still quivering.

"Yes... don't stop... please..."

Matt didn't need any further encouragement. He began to move, pulling out almost completely before slamming back inside her with a force that made her gasp. Each thrust was hard and deep, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room.

The combination of pain and pleasure was intoxicating for Y/N. Every time he slammed into her, it sent a jolt of sensation through her entire body, making her toes curl and her fingers dig into his back. Her eyes rolled back in her head again, her vision going white with the intensity of it all. The fluttering in her stomach grew more intense, spreading warmth through her entire core.

Matt's pace was relentless, each thrust harder and more powerful than the last. The pleasure built within Y/N, a tidal wave of sensation that grew stronger with every moment. She could feel her orgasm building, the pressure mounting with every thrust.

"Matt... I'm so close... Fuck." She gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yeah, angel?" He groaned, his own voice filled with strain. "Hold on... just a little longer..."

Y/N held on as best she could, her body writhing beneath him, every nerve ending on fire. When her orgasm finally crashed over her, it was like nothing she had ever experienced. Her entire body convulsed, her muscles tightening around him, her cry of ecstasy filling the room.

Matt let out a guttural growl as he felt her clench around him, squeezing him completely, his own release crashing over him with a force that left him shaking. He buried himself deep inside her, spilling into her with a final, powerful thrust.

For a moment, they were both still, their bodies pressed together, the only sound their heavy breathing. Then Matt collapsed beside her, pulling her close, their sweaty bodies still tangled together.

"Missed you. So much." He murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

[randomshyperson]

Wanda holding hands 13 bc Ur smut is the best :D

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: linking hands together during sex | warnings: (+18) smut.

“Are you sure this is safe?”

Wanda lets out a giggle at your nervousness, sitting on your thighs, her hands resting on your stomach, she stares at you, her head slightly tilted.

"Are you questioning my magical abilities?" she counters your question with another one, receiving an offended snort in return.

"Of course not!" You mutter. You were looking at her before, but ended up looking down, where the toy conjured by the witch attached to your waist vibrates softly as if it were as desperate to feel her as you were half an hour ago when you both stumbled inside the rented room at the Harkness Mansion, where Wanda has been learning all sorts of magic for the past few months. Clearly, she has learned other interesting things, outside of the mandatory curriculum.

Your hands caress her thighs, but Wanda still notices the tension in your shoulders. She softens her gaze in your direction.

"It feels good, doesn't it? No need to worry." She rations, pleased to see you bite your lip as she tentatively caresses the plastic member. When you gasp at the stimulation, she feels a twinge of pride at her successful spell, too. "You can trust me."

"I trust you, darling." You assure her, a little out of breath and sweaty. It's round two already, and Wanda just proved her point by groping your new magical member, a squeeze that almost makes you lose your train of thought. "It's me I don't trust. What are we going to do about my strength? Are you sure-"

"That's exactly why I'm on top, silly." She cuts you off, adjusting herself on your lap in a way that brings her heat right where you want her. Your grip on her thighs tightens just enough to bruise. It's her time to bite her lip. With a deep breath, she stares at your eyes. "You just need to relax, and let me take charge. I bet you'll love it."

It's your turn to look at her adoringly. "Of course I will, it's you." You comment romantically, earning a shy smile from her. But then, there's a shift in her gaze. Wanda is still looking in your eyes as she adjusts the toy into her own entrance, teasing gently before slowly sinking down. She's able to feel every inch, filling her up to the bottom.

Your hands leave her thighs to grip the sheets, and she smiles breathlessly at your visible difficulty in keeping still, your jaw tensing as your stomach muscles tighten.

"See? I told you I'd like it." She teases, still getting used to the sensation of being full. She's pleased to know she got the size right, even though she can't help but imagine trying a bigger one in the future. "I'm going to start moving now, okay baby?"

But her body was betraying her. She was still quite sensitive, coming twice before for your fingers and tongue, she didn't imagine she'd be so affected so quickly when she switched to the toy. But the sensation was truly overwhelming. It was really different to feel you filling her like that, and in the attempt to grind against your lap, her body protested, as ready for climax as she had been when she started.

You came to her rescue immediately. Sitting, one of your hands brushed her hair away from her face, to get a better look at her before kissing her. Your other hand went down, wrapping around her waist and taking control of her movements. Wanda rewarded you with an affected moan against your lips, her thighs trembling on either side of your body as you forced her hips to move against yours. She didn't want to come so fast, but she couldn't help it. Being held like this, she felt so safe and loved that the knot in her lower belly exploded almost at the same moment you whispered "I got you, lovely". 

In the ecstasy of her own climax, she didn't notice your determination to hold back, unable to surrender without worries. It was only when she calmed down, breathless and still trying to get back into orbit, that she realized. Hugging you by the neck, she kissed your skin before speaking again. "I told you to trust me."

You sigh, caressing her back with open palms. "I do, but I don't want to hurt you." You murmur. Despite being bigger than Wanda, you suddenly seem very small. "Every muscle is amplified by the serum, Wands, you know that. I'm afraid I might-"

She cuts you off with a determined kiss. Wet and rough, it makes you gasp and grab her cheeks, pulling away for air. Wanda arches her back, teasing and baiting you, the image of her naked figure making you gasp. You stare at where your bodies connect, but don't move.

She grinds, and you groan. "Jesus, Wanda."

"You won't hurt me, I promise." She assures you, equally affected, having trouble keeping her eyes on you, her brow furrowed due to the roughness of her own hips' movements. Doing this, you kept hitting a sensitive spot inside her, and it was a hard feeling to ignore in order to speak. "It's part of the magic. Can you, for all that is holy, trust what I'm saying?"

You don't contradict, mainly because you're unable to hold back when Wanda is riding you so eagerly. You tense up then, panicking once you feel your climax reaching you, but to no avail, it's your attempt at holding it. An animalistic moan rips its way through your throat, and you grab Wanda's waist, holding her in place as you empty yourself inside her. She whines affectly, grabbing your shoulders as she feels the hot shot inside her. 

For a second, not only the toy soften but your body too, going heavy on her. She holds both of you to the bed with her thighs around your waist, a hand caressing your hair as she tries to ignore the way your cock is still pulsing and leaking inside her.

“Need a break, baby?” She asks softly but you groan deeply, hands suddenly firming around her to flip both of you in bed. She gasps when her back hits the mattress, but her surprise is turned into something else when you pound into her with strength. “Fuck.”

Her hands fell into the bed with the shifting in the position, and Wanda's eyes widened a little when you reached for them, holding them together above her head.

This was new and Wanda was definitely not complaining.

“We should have tried this ages ago.” You say, your voice husky due to the efforts and the previous orgasms. Wanda thinks you look beautiful like this, out of breath while you fuck her. “I could be gentle but… something tells me you don't want me to.”

Your free hand moves down to flick her swollen clit between your fingers and Wanda cries out, her back arching on the bed. You smirk, adjusting just so you could move the toy that slipped out back inside her.

There's a quick teasing from your part, pushing just the tip of the toy into her overstimulated dripping pussy, but sooner than later, you push all the way inside. Cursing under your breath as Wanda fights against the hold on her hands. She wants to hold you so badly that it physically consumes her and you end up pitying her pleasing eyes and needy moans. 

But you don't free her hands, instead, you entrelaces your fingers together in a deep grip that anchors her when your movements resume.

The pounding is rough, it cracks the bed and takes Wanda to a state of colorful eyes and magic emanation. The only noises in the room are the shared moaning and the obscene sounds of your cock pushing into her aching heat, the moisture of your last climax leaking into the bed. When she comes, all the lights in the bedroom flash. You follow her this time, groaning into her neck as you come. 

For a second, none of you are able to say anything, all but breathless gasps leaving your lips. Then, there's a shared giggle, and your fingers, still interlaced, squeeze before letting go, only for you to remove the sweaty hair away from her face.

“Hey, you.” She smiles at your words, tired eyes threatening to close as she looks at you. “Enjoying yourself aren't you?”

“Don't tease me, when you're just whining three seconds ago.” She retorts, getting a chuckle from you. Wanda let her hands cross behind your neck. “Wanna join me in the shower?”

“Honey, if I ever say no to that, you can bet I lost my mind for good.” You joke, muffling her and giggling with your mouth.

[consciouschunkofmoss]

additional theory

[moonlinos]

Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff

♡ CW: Implied smut, alcohol consumption. Twenty solid seconds of angst, but it doesn’t even really count. It’s just tooth-rotting fluff.

♡ Word count: 5.5k

♡ Synopsis: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.

♡ A/N: This was going to be just word-vomit fluff to make me cry, but I couldn’t control myself and before I knew it there were… so many words.

You were four years old when you met Minho. It was the first day of kindergarten, and you were assigned seats together. The entire day was spent with you chatting to every kid you could reach from your seat while Minho quietly sat painting and doodling by your side. You vaguely remember thinking he was odd and whining to your mom about how your seatmate was boring, and that was why he was the only kid in class you didn’t talk to. She smiled and told you maybe you should make an effort to talk to him. That same day, you racked your little brain for a reason why your seatmate might be so quiet and promptly decided that he was too shy to start a conversation himself. You then asked your mom if the fact that you didn’t talk to him might have made him sad, to which she hesitated, and that was enough to have your bottom lip wobbling.

You remember tears streaming down your cheeks as you frantically sobbed, inconsolable at the fact that your seatmate was sad and that it was partially because of you.

The next day, you asked if Minho would like to use your special glitter pens — you even told him you wouldn’t mind if he used your favorite colors. That was really all that was needed to plant the bud of friendship between you two.

Ever since that day, you two slowly became inseparable.

You attended the same elementary school after begging your parents, writing a very concise list of reasons why you two could not possibly be separated. Reasons such as the fact that Minho still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces, so it would be dangerous for him to be alone in a new school. Or the fact that you were always losing your gloves, and Minho always carried an extra pair in his backpack just for you, so you would surely catch a cold if you didn’t have him beside you during winter.

All extremely valid reasons.

Minho began walking you home from school when you were both nine years old. He was often left alone due to his parents’ work schedules, which made him become the most street-smart kid in your class. You had to beg your mom for a week, but she ultimately caved in.

Your favorite thing to do on your way home was to stop randomly and doodle on the sidewalk with chalk, with Minho joining you in no time. You even had your favorite little sketching spot — right in front of a nice old lady’s flower shop, where you two would spend far too much time decorating her entrance pavement with flowers, rainbows, and smiley faces. She would later introduce herself to you, Ms. Kim, and would always thank you both with a flower of your choice. You always picked tulips, and Minho always picked daisies.

On one hazy winter day, you and Minho were eager to adorn the flower shop’s entrance with a new set of doodles since the ones you had done just yesterday got covered in snow. As you two did your best to dig through the piled-up snow with your gloved hands, you suddenly felt something hard slide down your throat. Your hands stilled, and you turned to look at Minho with wide eyes.

“What happened?” He asked. “Did you lose your glove in the snow this time?”

You shook your head frantically, careful not to swallow. “Teeth,” you simply said.

Minho looked at you like you were crazy, squinting his eyes as he studied your face. “What?”

You felt tears well up, and he immediately abandoned his mission of shuffling through the snow before pulling you into a big hug.

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, I feel weird when you cry,” He said, but no tears left his worried eyes. Minho never cried, that was something you had learned a while back. 

You, however, cried until Ms. Kim noticed you two from the window, cooing as she approached you two with a gentle smile. You tried your best to explain your predicament. Minho sat with you behind the wooden counter, holding your hand in his, the smell of flowers making everything feel less catastrophic than it did ten minutes earlier.

Ms. Kim explained that you had no reason to cry, as it was normal for kids to swallow their baby teeth. And you remember harshly shaking your head and explaining with a trembling voice that you hadn’t cried because of that. You had cried because that was your last baby tooth, which meant you were officially a grown-up. You didn’t want to be a grown-up. Minho wasn’t a grown-up yet, with his last baby tooth still holding on proudly in his gums. You didn’t want to be a grown-up all alone; it would be terrible and sad.

That afternoon, you two went home together in silence, your respective flowers clutched in your hands. Minho was never good with words. Sadness engulfed him because he couldn’t do enough to make his best friend smile again. What was the point of a best friend if they didn’t make you laugh when you were crying?

Minho walked into school the next day with a proud smile on his face before placing his last baby tooth on your desk. You eyed it curiously, brows furrowed.

“There, I took it off last night,” He simply said. “Now we’re gonna be grown-ups together.”

At eleven years old, your daily after-school video game appointments began.

You had just cut your hair short; a bob you thought looked cute on your favorite singer turned out to be cataclysmically unflattering on you. And, at eleven years old, it was earth-shattering and definitely the end of your life (despite what your mother told you).

You spent every second out in public with your hair hidden by a beanie, hoping it would distract people from your disastrous haircut.

Except it had the opposite effect.

One particular day at school, a boy came up to you simply to inform you that your head looked like a mushroom before running away, laughing with his friends. They were foolish words spoken by a foolish boy, but you were eleven. Once again, earth-shattering and the end of your life.

You avoided everyone the entire day — including Minho, whom you always talked to no matter your mood. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him for much longer, seeing as he walked you home every day, so you simply prayed he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes or that he at least hadn’t heard any of the other kids making unfunny jokes about your haircut.

After school, Minho sighed in feigned annoyance when you told him you had lost your gloves again before retrieving a pair from his backpack. Like a habit, you asked if he wanted to hang out at your house, although the answer was always unchanging.

“My mom’s baking a cake,” you told him. “We can play video games and then eat it together.”

Minho hummed in agreement, adjusting his backpack before grabbing your hand as you two began your daily walk to your house. It was something you always did, never walking anywhere without your hands clasped together. These past few months, however, this once ordinary gesture had begun making your heart beat faster. You didn’t understand why, and you would rather not think about it because every time you did, the words from your other friends would echo inside your head. Their stories about how they felt their hearts racing when their crush had hugged them or even looked their way, making you question if maybe…

But it couldn’t be. Minho was your best friend. How could he be your crush?

It was another one of those afternoons, your mom busily making you two sandwiches as you and Minho played New Super Mario Bros on your Wii under the blanket fort you always meticulously built. Minho had been acting weird all day — even weirder than you, who had to endure all the asinine jokes and hurtful words from your peers. As you completed the last level for the umpteenth time, saving Princess Peach, Minho all but threw his controller to the side. You turned to shoot him a questioning look, which went ignored as he rummaged through his backpack.

He retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper, which he promptly gave to you.

You cocked your head, awaiting some sort of explanation, but Minho simply picked up his controller once more and hit play on the game.

Unfolding the paper, words greeted you in Minho’s messy handwriting.

YOUR HAIR LOOKS CUTE. STOP HIDING IT.

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything to him, Minho reached out and snatched your beanie from your head. Your short hair and bangs cascaded onto your face, partially obscuring your view. But you could still make out his side profile, where a faint smile appeared on his lips.

After that, you two were silent for the rest of the day, eventually dozing off under the tent lulled by the sound of your mother’s hand mixer and Mario’s theme song. The sun eventually set outside the window, and you woke up to two plates of your mother’s cake waiting for you on the coffee table.

From that point on, your beanie was left forgotten inside your drawer.

You were fifteen when you realized that perhaps your feelings for Minho weren’t all that platonic after all.

It all started with a letter on Minho’s desk on a rainy Friday. October 25th, Minho’s birthday.

Minho’s quiet nature hadn’t changed one bit since you first sat beside him at four years old. He would rather die than start a conversation, rarely went out to the movies with your friend group and, most importantly, hated being the center of attention. That was why he told no one about his birthday since you two began high school this year. It was the subject of much debate among your little group of friends, with some bribing Minho with his favorite snacks or promising to do his assignments until college just for some sort of clue; a day, month, even the day of the week he was born.

But Minho never budged.

So, seeing a letter on his desk on the day of his birthday was odd, to say the least.

You arrived back to the classroom late after chatting to your friend from another class in the hallway, catching as Minho sat down with a puzzled look on his face and an open letter in his hands.

“What’s up?” You asked, sitting on the desk in front of him.

He looked up, thick glasses crooked from a dodgeball incident earlier that week. “Yumi found out it’s my birthday today,” He informed you, a bit too nonchalantly. “She organized a birthday party at her house tomorrow with our friends.”

You immediately took the letter, reading it and blanching at the words written in the girl’s pretty handwriting. She had found out Minho’s birthday by snooping around Facebook until she found his mother, who had a plethora of pictures of Minho on his previous birthdays. Not only that, the letter ended with a paragraph where she confessed her feelings to him — with all the clichés and dramatics only an adolescent crush could provide.

You still remember your first thoughts upon learning that information: Oh, Yumi. Of course a girl like her would do something like this.

You cringe at your words now, but at fifteen, you deemed no girl worthy of your best friend. Especially ‘girls like Yumi,’ who in your eyes all but threw herself at him. At the time, you thought you were looking out for the boy who was practically your brother. Now, you understand you were simply an insecure fifteen-year-old who allowed ugly, misogynistic thoughts to brew inside your mind out of fear of losing Minho. For your immature brain, every girl interested in Minho was an enemy because they could easily take him away from you.

And Minho had never reciprocated any girl’s feelings, always politely turning down the few confessions he had gotten during middle school. You were ready to berate Yumi, your brows immediately furrowing as your face contorted, but Minho beat you to it, speaking before you could utter a word.

“I know I should be mad, but isn’t it a little… cute?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips like a burst of disbelief. You also couldn’t help how your hands began to tremble as your heart shot up to your throat.

“Cute?” You asked with the strongest voice you could muster. “You think her invading your privacy is cute?”

And Minho simply shrugged, tapping his fingers on his desk. “A little bit. I know you don’t really like her, but she’s part of our friend group,” He said, taking the letter from your shaky hands. “Plus, she’s always been nice to me, and she is cute.”

That was all you could physically bear to hear, excusing yourself from the conversation with the lie that your friend had called you from the classroom window before sprinting out into the hallway. As you continued walking, your palms grew clammy and your heart weighed heavily in your chest.

You felt tears well up in your eyes once you reached the stairs. Sitting on the steps, you cried into the cardigan of your ugly school uniform. You didn’t care that you would be scolded for skipping class; all you cared about was that your best friend was going to be taken from you.

After school, as you and Minho were about to exit the school gates — your hands tightly clasped together as they always were — Yumi appeared carrying a cake, the rest of your friends behind her as they all sang happy birthday. 

Minho blew out the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered as his best friend, Chan, shoved his face into the cake. Minho yelled at him, grumbling with glasses covered in white frosting, but ultimately laughing along. Yumi was quick to clean his face with a napkin, earning her a smile from Minho before he released your hand to gently squeeze her rosy cheeks.

You remained quiet, forcing out a smile and looking up at the sky every now and then so your tears wouldn’t fall.

All because Minho had let go of your hand.

Minho’s fifteenth birthday — that was the day you learned you could fool everyone else, but never yourself.

Your seventeenth summer was a drag.

Minho had just been broken up with a couple of months before, Yumi crying as she explained her parents wanted her to focus on her studies, and having a boyfriend was simply a distraction she couldn’t afford if she wanted to be a doctor someday. An unwilling participant in the entire situation, you sat awkwardly at the bus stop as she spoke.

You were ready to witness Minho cry for the first time in your life, maybe yell about how unfair her parents were being, but he simply pressed a kiss to her forehead just as your bus arrived.

Not much had changed when he began dating Yumi, with you learning that suppressing how you truly felt was worryingly easy. You still hung out with them, battling through their cuddles and kisses like a soldier on the front lines of a war. Never unscathed, but always strong. Nobody needed to know about how you cried into your mother’s arms almost every night before falling asleep.

The only change had been you and Minho’s daily gaming appointments. You two had since outgrown your video game phase, both now interested in diverging things that made it impossible for you to enjoy them together. You discovered your love for flowers went beyond doodling on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop, but Minho complained that growing flowers was too time-consuming, and he loved dancing, which you were far too uncoordinated and lazy to even try doing.

And so, you two settled for simply hanging out together at your house. Your room had easy access to the roof, which you two took full advantage of, setting up a permanent blanket fort where you would snuggle up with pillows and talk for hours after school.

That summer was no different, with Minho stretched out across the old mattress, watching the light pink sky slowly fade away as night set in while you two busied yourselves talking.

That was the day you finally gathered the courage to ask Minho about his breakup, desperate to understand why he had appeared so unfazed. After the one-year milestone of their relationship in February, you had begun to make peace with the fact that she would probably be around for a while.

Minho shrugged at your question, hands resting on his stomach while he gnawed on his bottom lip. He explained he was sure that he liked her, but it turned out he valued her as a friend much more than as a girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the answer. You knew Minho better than you knew yourself at times, which was why you knew he was lying through his teeth.

“Why did you stay so long with her, then?” You questioned, the resentful lilt in your voice a bit too obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I mean, you surely didn’t act as just friends.”

“I guess I felt lonely before,” He explained. “I was selfish for staying with her, but I enjoyed having someone. Was especially nice after…” Minho trailed off, dismissively shaking his head, and you remember being close to throwing him off that roof as he kept being so damn enigmatic.

“After what?” You prodded, “Minho, I’m your best friend. What’s the point of us talking if you’re not gonna tell me the truth?”

He turned his head to look up at you, the darkening sky making his eyes gleam as if they held an entire galaxy of stars. You felt that familiar nervousness return.

“It was nice to not be so alone after so many years of pining after someone.”

You cocked your head to the side, and Minho had the gall to chuckle at your puzzled expression. You shook your head, mumbling to yourself that your conversation was pointless if he wouldn’t tell you the whole truth.

Lying next to him on the mattress with a sigh, you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

You remember the moon was already high in the sky by the time one of you finally moved — Minho, who slowly inched his hand closer to yours before clasping it tightly in his. Despite your racing heart, you thought nothing of it. He was now single, so it wouldn’t be ludicrous to assume a habit you two had cultivated for many years would naturally return.

However, after some beats from your erratically racing heart, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours. You had never done that before, always holding hands in a way that all but screamed platonic.

That night, with his thumb caressing your skin and his hand squeezing yours, Minho finally spoke the truth after so long.

“It’s you,” He said, tone nonchalant but voice audibly shaky. “Think I’ve been pining after you since I was nine and ripped my tooth out ‘cause I thought that’d make you stop being sad.”

You remember gasping quietly and his hand tightening around yours as the clock ticked and your silence remained. You remember finally mustering up the courage to turn to look at him and being met by an expression you had rarely seen on Minho’s face in the thirteen years you had known him — he was scared, wide eyes dancing around your face as if he looked for an answer in your features, his chapped lips parted slightly as if he was ready to backtrack the moment he saw any hint of doubt in your eyes.

You remember smiling at him and how his expression shifted into pure confusion. All it took was for him to finally have the nerve to hold your hand in the way he’d always wanted to, and for you to use his courage as a catalyst for your own. You remember how you closed the distance between you two and pressed your lips to his. You remember it feeling weird because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

But you also remember it feeling right because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

Your transition from being best friends to being in a relationship was easier than you had ever thought it would be — it was also slower than you could have ever imagined.

Minho never asked you out or confessed his feelings beyond what was said on the roof, and neither did you. It was a shared knowledge between you, a silent agreement that didn’t need words — at least for now. The little gestures and subtle changes left no doubt in your minds that you two were, in fact, no longer just friends — like how you began to always intertwine your fingers while holding hands, or how Minho would pull you onto his lap when you hung out with your friends, or how you would rest your head on his shoulder as he played with your hair during lunch break.

Your friends certainly had questions, the confusion written all over their faces easy to read like a book, but you both knew they also understood your relationship without you needing to make a big deal out of it.

You picked him up from dance class every weekend, sometimes arriving earlier just to catch a glimpse of him through the glass door, as Minho insisted he was too embarrassed to dance in front of you.

One day, thoroughly unprompted, he reached into his backpack as you two exited his dance academy and pulled out a yellow tulip. You had furrowed your brows at the sudden gesture, and Minho nonchalantly told you that planting your favorite flower was surprisingly easy. Since becoming teenagers, you had stopped going to Ms. Kim’s flower shop, and you had long forgotten about how you two used to have your own respective flowers back in the day.

It seemed Minho hadn’t forgotten.

That was one thing you had come to know about him only after you began dating. Although he seemed cold and distant on the outside — rarely communicating his feelings through words — Minho secretly kept a mental note of every little detail about the people he cared about, and he unfailingly found a way to communicate his feelings through actions. Such as promptly handing you a brand-new flower he had picked before you even had the chance to mourn your tulip as it began to wilt.

You, on the other hand, had always been the type of person to communicate through words; spoken, written, or read, which is how you began saving your best daisies from the small garden you created in your backyard and practicing your flower arrangement skills exclusively by making pretty bouquets you could gift to Minho (always with little notes hidden among the flowers).

Your once explicitly platonic roof dates also left no room for doubt, as making out under your usual tent became a hard-to-break habit. In fact, that was how your family found out about your relationship. You were eighteen, with graduation just around the corner, when your mother caught Minho kissing you as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to be apart from him during college (although you both knew that would never be the case, as you always moved mountains simply to stay together).

Everything was slow-paced, and neither of you had any desire to rush anything. Once, Minho told you he had waited eight years to finally kiss you, and somehow, that anticipation was what had made it all the more special.

And so, your first proper date only happened six months after your first kiss, and your first fight only happened a year and a half into your relationship. Not to mention your first I love you, which had been a slip-up that happened only in your first year of college after a drunken night with Chan and Minho. Your head on his lap, your tulip nestled among his daisies in a pretty vase on the coffee table as Chan hummed along to some song that came from his phone. You felt as if your entire being was filled with pure gratitude at that moment, and the liquid courage that flowed through your veins only helped you mutter out how much you loved Minho.

He looked down at you, hands cupping your cheeks with a silly smile adorning his face, and simply answered, “Well, I love you more.”

Your carefree attitude toward your relationship was almost a contrast to the one you had with your friendship. You and Minho had met so young that you could never truly pinpoint when you had become such close friends. You always wondered if that was what led you two to be so easygoing with what most people rush into. Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

You remember one of Minho’s new friends, Changbin, asking something about your sex life at some party during freshman year, and you two nonchalantly answering that you didn’t really have one. Your friends’ shock was understandable, but you and Minho only laughed.

Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

It was Minho’s 21st birthday, when your flowers were no longer in bloom, but your love remained blossoming like it was mid-spring. He had, as always, vetoed any and every plan of a celebration suggested by your friends. He opted to stay in with you, cuddling under a blanket fort like you had been doing for so many years. Chan graciously offered to sleep at a friend’s dorm, leaving your small shared apartment just for you and Minho.

He hadn’t planned for anything to happen, and neither had you. You were simply lying together, watching the flickering of the candles you had set up around the coffee table, recounting the innumerable memories you shared when you suddenly felt the earnest, all-consuming need to have Minho as close as possible.

It was clumsy, both of you inexperienced and nervous. Your teeth crashed together and your hands gripped each other tightly, the realization of the intensity of your yearning becoming undeniable. At some point, the entire tent collapsed on top of you, and laughter filled the room for a brief moment before being replaced by your sighs and whispered moans.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was you and Minho.

Graduation day was a blur in your mind.

It had all started with Minho and Chan drunk at eleven a.m., offering you the awful-tasting omelet they had cooked in your cramped kitchen. They then went on to zone out for most of the ceremony after stumbling out of your apartment.

You approached Minho after he was done taking pictures and getting scolded by his family for being drunk on his graduation day, his mother giving you an apologetic look as you whisked him away.

“You’re stressed,” you pointed out.

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” you replied with a sigh, resting against a large tree far enough away from the hustle and bustle of recently graduated students and crying families. “So is Chan. Don’t think I’ve seen him this drunk since Jisung’s birthday party last year.”

Minho chuckled, shifting on his feet and toying with the fabric of his gown. You furrowed your brows; he only ever got fidgety when hiding something. You learned that for the first time when you were thirteen and he had to wait until your birthday to tell you he’d gotten you two tickets to see your favorite band, and again when he had to keep Chan’s then-girlfriend’s plans of asking him to move in together a secret.

“You’re not nervous ‘cause of graduation, are you?”

You remember the way he stilled almost immediately.

“We always tell each other the truth, right?” He asked.

You remember the way your whole world spun as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and how everything seemed to fade into a white mist that surrounded Minho like a spotlight as he proposed to you.

Your wedding was small — both because that was how you had wanted it to be and because of your lack of money for a proper party.

After graduating, Minho became a dance teacher at the academy he attended as a teen, teaching little kids who he said always reminded him of you two. You used the money your parents had saved for you to travel after college to buy the old flower shop that held so many memories from your childhood. Neither of you used your degrees, and neither of you made a lot of money, but you were overflowing with an infatuation for life and a love for each other so great that it made up for any silly inconvenience that dared to come up.

The ceremony was held at a local church — although neither of you was particularly religious, that was the cheapest place available. You opted to walk down the aisle together; hands clasped the way you used to do for many years while walking home from school. Minho held onto a daisy bouquet you made, while you held the single tulip he had picked out for you that day.

“I’m not good with words,” was how Minho began his vows, the glow of the fairy lights and candles adorning the church rendering his attempt at hiding his tears futile. That was the first time you had ever seen him cry in the twenty-one years you’d known him. “But I think that never mattered with you. You know me better than I know myself. Most times, I don’t even have to say a word, and you’ll still understand me. It’s been this way since we were four, and you understood why I was so quiet, and you still chose to be my friend. Thank you for understanding me, and thank you for allowing me to love you. Loving you is what I do best and look how lucky I am; I’ve been able to do it for my whole life.” He then shot you a grin, the back of his hand wiping away your tears. He ended his speech with a line that was so very Minho, thought up with sincerity but spoken primarily to make you smile. “You’ve always felt like home, and I can’t wait to feel that way until we’re both food for the worms to eat.”

You had never cried so much as you did on the day of your wedding — which was remarkable, seeing as you’d been a crier your whole life. You remember the irony of it all; Minho, who had never been good with words, telling you about his love with words that came from his heart and spilled from his lips without any rehearsal, while you were rendered speechless and too emotional to even attempt to form a coherent sentence.

Your wedding vow was a simple, choked-up, “Thank you for being my best friend, Minho.”

Minho carried you home from the church, with your cheeks flushing pink and his smile beaming as your friends made rice cascade around the two of you like snow. It turned out the boy who hated attention didn’t mind the spotlight so long as it meant showing off his love for you.

Your honeymoon was spent in your small house above your flower shop — which you named Daisy’s Tulips — where you cuddled under a blanket fort the entire day, only leaving the comfort of the pillows and fluffy covers well after midnight to adorn the sidewalk in front of your house in a brand new chalk drawing.

“Can you imagine if we never said anything?” Minho suddenly wondered aloud, his chuckle echoing through the quiet street. “We were both pretty good at hiding our feelings for so long.”

And you simply shook your head, painting a daisy with white chalk on the sidewalk. “Minho, I know you. You wouldn’t have let me keep pretending after finding out I liked you too.”

“Who says I would have found out?”

“You said it yourself,” you explained, “I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s reciprocal. You would’ve found out ‘cause I can never hide anything from you.”

And Minho smiled, taking your hand in his just as you were done with your drawing. Your gaze shifted toward him, and you admired the man he had become. From the shy little boy who sat beside you to the quiet teenager with thick glasses to the man he had grown into; you loved every version of Minho you had the privilege to meet throughout your life, and you were certain you would love every new version of him you came to know in the future as well.

“Of course you can’t,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. He then added, “Thank you for being my best friend.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist

[satellite-slickers]

I like how the twist in Slay the Princess isn't that the princess is some kind of ever shifting reality bending eldritch horror. That much was obvious to everyone and their mother even before the game came out. so the game doesn't even try to play its cards close to its chest.

the twist that the game slowly builds to is that you are also an ever shifting reality bending eldritch horror. That all of of your presumed limits are self imposed, and have been the entire time.

The princess changes and becomes as powerful as you believe her to be, but the same thing is true for you as well. the game is about the princess finding the pieces of herself, to learn who she is. meanwhile you are slowly learning WHAT you are, and once both of you fully know who and what you are you become fully fledged gods

You only die because you believe the narrator when he says you do, and as soon as you decide to not be dead, you suddenly cannot die because you've stopped believing in that limit.

You can only starve if you believe you need to eat.

As soon as you decide to stop playing around with the razor you summon the long quiet and easily trounce her.

As soon as you have the thought that the narrator isnt as strong as he pretends to be. that maybe he doesnt have final say in things. he loses any and all ability to control you or the construct.

[authorhjk1]

Is it just me or is taeyeon just getting more slutty the older she gets. Her clothing, her style, expressions, etc. Like she’s so horny and just can’t wait to get fucked once she gets back home.

Sunbae #2

As Taeyeon ages, her body changes. She never really cared for sex that much. At least not more than other women her age. But her body knows that she isn't having kids. And it's longing for that. Her womb is in need of sperm and her pussy is begging for cock. For cum.

Taeyeon does her best to suppress all of that. She's scared that, once she actually has sex with a guy, she would lose control. And she can't give up her career right now. She's worked too hard for that. So Taeyeon helps herself with toys. Her entire bedroom drawer is filled with them. She even has those that use a similar liquid to cum, just so she can satisfy her desire to be bred just a little bit.

But her body can tell that she is trying to trick it. By now, Taeyeon can't leave the house for too long, without constantly daydreaming of the guys she walks past. And she is desperate for their attention.

Almost every night, Taeyeon lies in her bed. The wet spot underneath her, the bed full with toys. All evidence of the battle she is slowly starting to lose. And every night, she stares up at the ceiling. Eyes out of focus, but still wide open. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she recalls her actions of the day. Why did she dress so slutty? Why did she move like this? Why does she wink and smirk so much in the direction of her male fans?

After her dance practice and a shower, Taeyeon used the wardrobe of SM to get herself a new outfit. She is now standing in front of the mirror, visibly in shock. Her eyes trail along the long, revealing slit on the front of her top.

How could she even think about wearing this? Anyone who's slightly taller than her, would have a great view of her tits. But then again....

"No, no, no. Get yourself together, Taeyeon."

She mumbles to herself, knowing she really is losing control of herself. But she can't go home now. She has a vocal lesson in ten minutes. With herself as the teacher. Taeyeon catches herself drooling a little as she thinks about her junior. If she could just....

She shakes her head to clear her thoughts.

Eight minutes later, she stands in front of the mirror once again. Taeyeon's jaw drops as she looks at herself.

Why is she only realizing now how slutty this makes her look? It looked cute, when she picked it out. She groans in annoyance, disappointed by herself. But there isn't time to change now.

"H-Hello, sunbae."

You start to stutter from the moment she turns around. You came in after her, still sweaty and heavily breathing from your dance practice.

"You're on time. I'm happy you didn't forget your favorite sunbae."

Taeyeon winks at you and your heart skips a beat. This never happened to you before with girls your age. The last person who made you feel this way...

Sooyoung. Taeyeon's bandmate.

"O-Of course not. But would you mind if I changed my shirt? It's completely wet after practice."

You pull at it a little to demonstrate how it sticks to your skin, while holding a new one.

"I don't mind at all. Go right ahead."

Her reassuring smile doesn't falter and she doesn't look away when you're about to pull your shirt over your head. You hesitate. Taeyeon is now just staring at you.

Taeyeon licks her lips as you lift your shirt. She watches how you reveal your abs. A product of countless of hours spent in the practice room. A too familiar tingle arises inside of Taeyeon. The older woman can feel it in her core. Almost like a predator, her eyes follow your every move.

In the back of her mind, her consciousness screams at her. That you're her junior. That this could ruin her career. That you're way too young for her.

But Taeyeon's primal desire to be bred has taken over by now. Her arousal is hightened even more, when she remembers what Sooyoung told her. She never thought of this before, because before, she had herself under control. She had morals.

You don't witness anything of her internal war with herself. But once you can see again, you realize that Taeyeon isn't standing in front of you anymore. You look down. And there she is. Staring at your crotch, licking her lips.

"S-Sunbae?"

"Hmm?"

Her eyes are glued to your clothed cock.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"I don't think this-"

"I guess I will just help myself."

Taeyeon murmurs more to herself than you.

A moment later, your pants are around your ankles. And your underwear quickly follows.

"Oh, yes."

Taeyeon coos, her eyes closed as your cock lands on her face.

"It's so heavy."

She sighs, her lips forming a slight smile.

You are surprised that Taeyeon would ever do something like this. Never in a million years you would've thought that your vocal lesson today would start with your cock lying on Kim Taeyeon's face.

The older woman doesn't move for a while. You feel her breathing against your cock, until you realize, she is taking in your scent. Your smell makes Taeyeon's pussy tingle. She knows that this is how she will satisfy her unquenchable lust. At least for a small while.

You shudder as her tongue darts out. It touches your cock. You let out a shakey breath as Taeyeon opens her eyes again.

"It's so big and tasty."

She goes cross-eyed as she looks up at it.

"Sunbae..."

Your voice is weak as you're unable to fully comprehend what's going on. Is she drugged or something?

"I've waited so long..."

She takes another deep breath, inhaling your scent even more.

Almost painfully slow, Taeyeon starts to actually lick your cock. Her tongue glides along your shaft. It flicks against your tip, it reaches your base, it covers every inch of your cock. The whole time, your dick rests on Taeyeon's face. Her smooth skin makes this experience even more pleasurable. The feeling of her, breathing against your cock, makes you hold onto the wall next to you.

"What a yummy cock."

She whispers as she finally backs away a little. With a disappointed groan from you, your cock slides off her face. It's now pointing at her lips as she stares down at it. Taeyeon's eyes slowly wander towards your balls and you can see her eyes glisten with lust and need.

"They look so full. Do girls your age not drain you properly?"

Taeyeon sounds genuinely concerned.

She let's a finger trace over the skin of your sack, while she looks up at you.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of that. I'll need all the cum you have in there."

Her lips reach your cock and Taeyeon starts to properly suck you off now.

Your legs buckle at her skillful blowjob. She isn't using her hands, like a lot of other idols would. She lets her lips glide straight down to your base, before she backs up again and repeats the process. Her tongue doesn't stay idle, roaming around underneath your shaft.

"T-T-Sunbae..."

You almost slipped up, almost calling her by her name. It seems like you can't say anything else anyway.

"Noona is enough, baby."

Taeyeon keeps blowing you, her eyes now focused on yours. Her slow, sensual work reminds you a little of Sooyoung. But this is different. Taeyeon seems to know every spot she has to touch. She seems to enjoy worshipping your cock. How it feels in her mouth, when she takes it all without gagging. How it rests on her face, when she lets it fall out of her mouth and leans forward, just so she can feel it on her skin as she licks at it.

"Oh, god."

You've never felt this good before. Taeyeon does everything right. She does more than you could eve except of someone. She seems to know your cock better than even yourself.

But you can tell that Taeyeon's lust and thirst for more increases by the second. And eventually, she does stop. Despite losing that wonderful feeling, you don't complain. You almost came right there.

"I need you to eat me real good, baby. Can you do that for noona?"

You quickly nod and Taeyeon gets off the ground, while you lie on the couch. Your view looks incredible.

Taeyeon's pants are quickly gone and you find her sitting on your face. Only a pair of white push buttons hold her top in place, right above her core. You quickly pull them apart, revealing Taeyeon's dripping wet pussy.

A lustful, almost dangerous moan escapes her lips.

You get the hint and quickly dive into her pussy. It tastes delicious. Her slick juices coat your taste buds with peach like flavor. Her weight presses down on you, forcing you take all of her pussy at once.

"That's a good, hobae."

Taeyeon sighs as she feels your tongue inside her cunt. She slowly grinds her hips against your face. Although she likes the feeling of getting eaten out quite a lot, this isn't what she is here for. It's not pleasure shee seeks. Taeyeon needs to be bred.

"Baby, can you do something for me, huh?"

You nod into her pussy, making her squirm.

"C-Can you fill up your noona? Can you do that for her?"

She sounds like she is talking to a toddler.

"Can you please nock up your noona?"

You gulp as she finally reveals what she really wants. You expect it to just be a kink of hers. That she just wants to pretend to get nocked up.

When you finally say yes, Taeyeon has already moved from your face to your cock. Just as you agree, she drops herself on your hard cock.

"Oh, god!"

Taeyeon's eyelids flutter, her eyes roll back, her mouth hangs open. It has been so long since she last had a real cock inside of her. Her toys just can't compare.

Within a matter of minutes, Taeyeon rides you, like there is no tomorrow. Her pussy threatens to strangle your cock as it clamps down around it, whenever she drops herself onto you. Her pace is too quick for your taste. You want to enjoy this moment. You want to enjoy the fact that you are actually having sex with Kim Taeyeon.

But Taeyeon's old self has already been lost from the moment she first laid eyes on your cock.

"I can feel your hard cock throbbing, baby. Don't waste a drop. Fill my slutty pussy with your cum."

Her riding and her words drive you closer towards your orgasm. You won't be ale to hold it in for much longer.

"Put a baby in me. My body needs it."

Taeyeon whines and you start to realize that she isn't joking. That this isn't a kink. But you can't believe this. That would be way too risky. Or is Taeyeon already too far gone to care? And what would you do, if you actually impregnated Kim Taeyeon?

"Noona, I don't think we should-"

Her tight walls shut you up. You can feel how they try to milk you dry.

"No, baby. No, baby. No, baby. I-I need it. I need it so bad."

Taeyeon strokes your hair with one hand, as if she is trying to calm you down, while the other still rests on your chest, supporting her weight.

"I need to feel it in my womb. I need that seed of yours. Make a mommy out of your noona."

Eventually, you can't hold yourself back anymore. It wasn't a matter of if you cum anyway. It was only a matter of when you would cum. And that moment is now.

As Taeyeon keeps riding you, your hips buck upwards.

"Yes, baby. I know you want to put a baby in me. Do it. Fill your noona with all of your seed."

As Taeyeon moans her lewd words, you finally cum inside of her. Rope after rope of your cum paints her pussy. Her insides are white within seconds. The warmth makes her shudder on top of you.

"God, baby. I can feel it flow into my womb."

Taeyeon holds her tummy, her eyes closed. She can feel how her body does everything in its power to get her pregnant.

"What a good hoobae I have."

She sighs, her mind only focused on one thing.

---------

Hi guys!

Couldn't hold myself back after I got those asks and thought about the idea a little too long. I'm gonna do my best to write some more, so you guys will hopefully get a couple of longer fics soon.

I'll also post a small masterlist post, similar to the ones I did for other series, for a new series with SNSD. You guys will have to wait for the first chapter though, since I'm focusing on the other fics first. Just doing this, so you guys know what's coming, because I want to involve you guys with the plot a little bit more, probably through polls.

Stay healthy!

[krossan]

A Brief AU Explanation

I noticed that there are a lot of new followers that do know Danny Phantom, and others that the know very little. I am also aware that I haven't fully explained - maybe NOT in too much detail - the "story" and plots of my AU. You only have the ideas that I've been telling of this story through illustrations.

This AU is all about reconnecting with one self, with Jazz and Dan as the main two of this particular game.

Jazz remains as the same character that is portrayed through the OG show. She has always been the psychology enthusiast of the group, the one that cares for others and help with whatever she can. For her, others come first. First being her family.

On the other hand, we have Dan, an alternate entity of Danny’s ghost half and Vlad’s. A new form of entity that lost his humanity. For him to show any form of emotion is null.

Jazz involvement in this has to do with her putting everyone else first and then herself, and being keen to the study of the human-psyche, and now ghost-psyche, she secretly partakes to the role of Dan’s therapist. This was kept in secret from the rest of her friends and Danny until she can gain more control over Dan.

This, of course, prove to be a VERY difficult task. With her having to hide her constant fears when facing that “particular someone”: he could go on a rampage, have uncontrollable outbursts, cause havoc, and that he could turn against her any day/time without any remorse. She knows this, but she also knows that deep down, her little brother is still there. She’s looking to rekindle that part of him again. Of course, never knowing at what extent this could go.

And this, apparently started to bear fruit, although at a slow pace. As Jazz stood closer and closer to him, she understood that he stayed alone his entire life, and after losing everyone he cared, his violent actions were his significance of showing the world "hurting". The hurt he have been caring so many years. Now he has that second chance. To “live” a new life and Jazz wants to help him out.

With this new information, each time Jazz got close to him, Dan, instead of seeing her as an obnoxious-human-parasite, he slowly starts bonding with her. His interest increasing each day he is with her and grows more comfortable being around her (something Dan originally despised).

***

Part of this AU, enrolls on a particular context that the ghost of a halfa is sentient. The original show as proven this*. When Danny’s ghost has been separated, his ghost has a mind of his own, but when staying together, human-ghost, the consciousness of the halfa acts as one. *Episodes in question: What You Want, Identity Crisis, The Ultimate Enemy

This part that the ghost plays on the known halfas is a mayor plot point from this AU. Let me explain my concept briefly:

This roll that the ghost is part of the halfa is the one that caries the power of the wielder (human). The human can transform into the ghost and vice versa. The ghost powers remain within the ghost half. The human half acts as a vessel/host to the ghost half.

All living things have the instinct of survival. And on this case, the ghosts would do ANYTHING to keep their host safe as they are the means of a linked connection human-ghost. Not unlike the rest of non-halfa- ghosts that their link/host relies on the Ghost Zone -since they no longer have a corporeal body, the vessel for their survival is ectoplasmic energy, the one that emanates from the GZ.

***

Since Dan is no longer connected to a human, he became a full-ghost. An entity that merged from two ghost halfas. He can sustain himself alone, but strangely enough, he building a bond with Jazz, it rekindled what Jazz intended, but in an unusual way. Jazz intention was to try and reconnect Dan with his long-lost humanity. Even if he didn’t have a human half, both his ghosts may have some little information stored deep within of what that used to feel like. And even though that started to give results, the ghost also retained that of his original purpose: Protect the host.

And as the bond Dan and Jazz grew more and more, unknown to them, it caused a physical manifestation: a white streak formed in Jazz’s hair. And even if this came up as a surprise to Jazz, she later discovered that this manifestation was much more than just physical.

Dan rekindled his humanity but he, unknowingly, intertwined Jasmine’s humanity to his. Her humanity is part of him. Jasmine’s emotions have an impact on him. Whatever she feels, he can sense it, let them be good or bad ones.

They both are this new form of halfa, both human and ghost are separate life forms, but from the ghost side -Dan’s perspective- Jazz is acting as his human half. His host. That’s is why his instincts respond to protect her at all costs.

No. This new form of a halfa representation doesn't mean Jazz has ghost powers. The one with that power is Dan. This bond is more of a psychic link.

 (i.e. In European folklore, you “could” say Dan is Jasmine’s "familiar", although Jazz is not considered to be a witch, but imagine the possibilities of this small plot causing people or ghosts to think Jazz is a witch… idk… random ideas)

This is why Dan is more sympathetic towards Jazz and why their bond is very important.

______________

It's worth pointing out that I don't have a specific name for this AU, like many people do when they create these stories. And NO. Please refrain from saying this is a romantic relationship. It is a sibling/platonic relationship.

[abcdbleh]

there's something about big scary brute simon Riley who likes when his dove wears lingerie that's pink or white

someone ordinary would think how it's a red flag that your man only prefers white and pink lingerie but not Simon's pretty dove

shes a broken thing from her young age so as fate goes she and Simon cross paths and that's destiny to you

they're just two people who match each others freaks :(( so one day she gets to know Simon behaves differently when she surprises him while wearing a pink babydoll.

Simon goes still eerily still, his gears in his brain stop working and all he wants to do is to ruin and break an innocent and Fragile angel who's dressed in pink all for him

but she tells him you can't break or ruin something that's already broken and ruined in so many ways but he doesn't care doesn't listen to the pretty words coming out of her mouth right now all she's good for is bending her over spine arching sluttily and creaming all over his fat cock

she puts on a show for him like a good little dove the babydoll flawlessly covering her body with the low v-neck that makes her plush soft cleavage peak out, she slowly walks to Simon who's sitting at the edge of their king sized bed and with no care in the world she plops herself on his lap already feeling his cock chub up even more underneath her

she continues to trace his scars underneath the mask her wears while grinding on him like a slut in heat Simon immediately loses control hastily grabbing her soft hips and the lace and keeps it in his trouser pocket as a souvenir when he's on deployment he's ruined ruined by her soft touches her manicured nails leaving indents on his neck and he lives for it he lives for the pain the blood that pours down because of her he's a ruined man who needs to stuff his fat cock in her before he embarrasses himself while cumming in his pants like a hormonal teenage boy whispering sweet nothings to each other and kissing each other passionately,his gear all thrown across the room shes riding him until he Blacks out his ears ringing his cock hurts from overstimulation but he doesn't tell her this all he wants is for her to use him because he thinks that's all a broken man is good for it works both ways right? if you want to ruin one you must let the other ruin you too

[muffinpink02]

please share your unholy thoughts about that Alexia white top picture pls. don’t hold back. pls. pls.

Smut 18

My thoughts? 

Like how it would feel to run your thumbs over her perky nipples, while you straddle her lap? 

Smiling to yourself as she tries to hold back a throaty moan, but it still easily escapes her mouth. You know her nipples are sensitive, you know she loses her mind just by the simplest touch on the small, but very sensitive buds. 

Alexia's nipples are her kryptonite. 

The blonde can barely speak when you're touching them. You know she gets embarrassingly wet, when you’re anywhere near them. 

Biting them.

Sucking them.

Pinching them.

Flicking them.

Kissing them.

Clamping them.

You know she’s trying not to let it get to her as you gently pinch her flesh through the thin fabric, but her large hands squeezing your hips tell a different story. 

“Fuck!” She gasps into your mouth as you feel her nipples strain against the fabric, under the tips of your nimble fingers.

It was a blur really, she was only showing you what she was going to wear in the tunnel before the game. 

You took one look at her, then you were on her. 

Alexia’s nipples were also your kryptonite. 

You slipped your hands under the tiny vest, gliding your short nails against her hard stomach as you always did. Loving the way her hips rocked up into your core. 

Her moaning became loud. 

You trailed your kisses down to her neck, kissing the vein that lived on the left side of her throat. You didn’t know what it was about the body part that turned you on so much, maybe because it came out when she was nervous, or excited or angry, or the way it stained against her skin when she was above you, fucking you from an inch of your life.

Or they way it pulsated when you were your three fingers deep inside her, your lips wrapped around her clit, watching her head fling back as she came undone under your touch. But whatever it was, you had to have your mouth on it. 

You pussy throbbed as you felt the artery pump against your tongue, you couldn’t stop yourself as you sucked roughly on her flesh. You smiled wickedly at the way her breath quickened as she felt your tongue glide up her long vein, kissing her skin as you felt her pulse quicken against your lips. 

You push the fabric up, exposing the rose coloured buds. You slowly move your kisses down from her throat to her chest. You don’t wait around, you suck the left bud into your mouth, you can't help the groan that escapes your mouth as you feel the flesh against your tongue.

“Hmmm, please!” She begs as her eyes shut, a small cute frown creases between her brows. 

You’re not sure what she’s begging for, but you don’t stop, you swirl your tongue around the tight bud. You can feel the small bumps of her areole as you tease your tongue against her, it makes your mouth water. Your taste buds dribble like you have your favourite meal in your mouth. 

Your hand cups her other breast, squeezing it as you suckle the strained nipple in your warm mouth.Her hips are moving harder against you, it’s almost hard to keep yourself on her. Her moans become louder, she’s completely losing herself to you as her body thrusts below you. 

Alexia’s losing her wits. It’s so fucking cute and so fucking hot they way she whimpers, the way her hips are grinding hard into you, but you ignore the heat between your own legs. You just want to feel her, you want her just like this, at your complete mercy, it was the only time the girl lost all control.

You pull back, biting the flesh just hard enough to make her cry out. 

“Amor!” She squeaks, her hips never stop moving, one of her hands moves from your waist and into your hair, wanting to have some control, but it's pitiful really, she doesn't have any control right now. The normally composed, calm and collected blonde is an utter mess beneath you. Her small gasps and whimpers are flooding your brain, she almost sounds like she's going to come as her chest rises 

“You’re so desperate baby.” You whisper, blowing cold air to her wet swollen nipple.

She's withering under you, she can’t even think straight let alone compose a snarky reply to your comment. She is desperate, her body can't help but surrender to your touches. She tries to reply but it just comes out to a low grunt. She can feel her arousal ruining her underwear, becoming so uncomfortably wet as you break her apart.

You move to her other breast, you slowly glide your tongue over the perk, she tries to push you closer, but you don’t move. Instead you give the sensitive bud a gentle kiss, then spit on it. 

“Fuck, si, si. M'encanta, quan fas això, amor.” She gasps as her hips pick up a relentless pace. 

You chuckle against her spit covered nipple, taking it into your mouth, lathering and suckling on it like she was your lifeline. You're losing your own composure, Alexia’s hips are thrusting so hard, it makes you bite a little harder than you meant to, making the girl tug at your hair, but she only moans louder. 

You groan at the pain, but it only makes you suck harder. You're grinding your own hips into her now, you're like two excited teenages dry humping for the first time, both lost in the other's touch. The loud pleasured moans that drip from her mouth, the filthy sounds of you sucking and slurping at her flesh bounce off the walls.

“Bebé.” She groans as you graze your teeth against her, her bottom lip comes between her teeth as her breathing starts to pick up. You watched as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She looks so fucking good but surely she can’t be close?

No? She can't be? Not just from this? Those are the tell-tell signs that you know all too well. She's going to come. 

“You going to come for me baby?” You mumble with her nipple still in your mouth.

She nods, her hazel eyes finally catching yours. You take the opportunity to spit on her chest again, letting her see the way you clean her back up. 

“Merda!” Her head falls back, her vein pulsates against her skin as her hips brutally thrash against you. 

You suck and bite the rosy bud into your mouth, never taking your eyes off of the girl above you, your free hand rolling the other nipple between your fingers, just the way you know she likes, not too hard, not too soft. 

And she's coming undone.

“Fuck!” The girl lets out a deep moan as you keep her in your mouth, the hand in your hair pushes you against her chest, not wanting you to leave her and of course you don’t dare move. 

Alexia’s cunt throbs against nothing, it's almost painful the way her clit cries out for stimulation but still manages to let her body orgasm at the touch of her nipples being played with. 

“Oh déu meu, oh déu meu!” She breathes out as her climax rushes over her body. 

You keep suckling, gently letting your tongue sweep over her. The hand in your hair loosens as her hips come to a slow stop. You gently pull back, releasing her nipple with a loud wet pop of your swollen lips.

You smile proudly, watching as Alexia catches her breath. You can't believe you just made her come, you hadn't even slipped your hand between her legs. 

Her hazel eyes finally lock with yours, the moment of bliss finally starts to mix with a realisation of her very quick, very easy orgasm.

“I’m that good hmm?” You tease as you bring your lips to hers.

“Don’t tease me!” She whines between kisses.

There was no way you would ever let her live this down.

[yanwonnies]

Can you do something viagra pill related with either jungwon or sunoo ?

Only if ur comfortable !! Tysm <3

ꜜ : 𝑯𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝑷𝒊𝒍𝒍 ﹙ 양정원! ﹚

↝ Jungwon mistakenly takes the wrong pill, and his cute member finds herself helping him deal with the effects.

⠇↴ Pairings: poly!ot7 x added member!reader ﹙ y.jw centric. ﹚ ⠇↴ Words: 5,3K

Warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ smut, dom!Jungwon x sub!Reader, neck kisses, biting, nipple play (a lot actually), lots of teasing, a bit mean! Jungwon, marking, dry humping, desperate!Jungwon as well as needy!Jungwon, Noona kink, fingering, use of viagra, orgasm denial, reader slowly falling into a subspace, hints of shower sex, overstimulation…. I think that's all, tell me if I miss something.

Wonnie’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ okayyyy when I read it the first thing I thought was… it could be interesting 🤭. I think the most likely to be in that situation is jungwon…. (not because he's my bias and he's got me all bad lately😁). The ending to me is so cute and sweet . Without further ado, I hope it lives up to your expectations (it's my first time writing smut 🫣) and sorry for the delay, university wants to kill me. I'm a bit obsessed with the AU!8th member so… yeah. I'm also sorry if it's too long, but I was writing and my head was adding more things 🙃.

Again, English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if I lose the sense in some parts. thank you very much for taking the time to read my work. ᵔᴗᵔ

𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘴 2024 © 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥.

The video game on the screen emitted a constant sound: the click of the controller, the sound effects and the melodies of the game created a kind of murmur that intertwined with the quiet atmosphere. The light from the screen projected sparkles on the floor and walls, creating patterns that danced softly with each change in the game. Ni-Ki, had settled himself on my legs, his body resting with obvious comfort on my thighs. Each time he adjusted his position, his movements were careful, as if he was trying not to disturb me as he concentrated again on the screen.

Suddenly, the stillness of the room was broken by the sound of a door. My attention was instantly diverted to the noise. There stood Jungwon. The first thing I noticed was how he was walking with one hand on his forehead, as if he was trying to push away a pain he could not relieve. His hair, falling over his eyes, partially hid his expression.

He moved slowly toward the couch, each step seeming like a small struggle against the discomfort that plagued him. When he reached our side, he leaned gently, resting his weight on my shoulder.

-What's wrong? -I asked, my voice soft and concerned. My fingers slid through the soft, somewhat messy texture of his hair, feeling each strand between my fingers. The sigh of satisfaction he let out was almost inaudible, but his relief was evident in the way he relaxed a little against me.

-Do you have something for a headache? -His voice, though softened by discomfort, carried an almost pleading tone. His closeness allowed me to feel how his muscles were tense, how his body was in a state of exhaustion.

Without thinking too much, I quickly replied -The pills are in my bag.

Jungwon nodded slowly. His head tilted slightly to one side, and his lips murmured a barely audible thanks. The expression on his face, though partially hidden, clearly conveyed the relief he felt knowing that there was a near solution to his pain.

He slowly sat up, his muscles tense and his body in a hunched posture that reflected his discomfort. His legs, as he moved, seemed tired, as if each step he took required great effort. I watched him carefully as he made his way down the hall.

He left the room, his figure fading into the doorway, which closed behind him with a barely perceptible click, which marked the end of his brief appearance. I turned my attention back to Ni-Ki, who was still immersed in the video game, though my concern for Jungwon remained latent in my mind.

I hope that this pill can alleviate it…

The hours passed slowly. The afternoon, which had initially been vibrant and full of light, began to fade into a warm orange glow.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by the insistent buzzing of my phone. I glanced at the screen and saw that it was a call from Jungwon. The view of his name on the identifier made me frown.

His tone was different from usual, harsher -Can you come to my room? -he asked, and the tone in his voice was imbued with a silent plea.

A wave of worry swept over me, and without much thought, I left Ni-Ki in the living room. I heard a small whimper from him as I stood up, a small protest at my departure. I leaned over to him and gave him a soft kiss on the head, feeling the warmth of his skin under my lips.

-I'm gonna be quick, okay? -I said, trying to give him a sense of security. Ni-Ki looked up for a moment, his eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and slight disappointment, but he nodded slowly.

I quickly made my way toward Jungwon's room, feeling a growing uneasiness urging me forward in a hurry. As I reached the door to his room, I paused for a moment to take a deep breath. The wood felt cool under my hand as I turned the knob with a gentle motion, almost afraid to interrupt the fragile silence that reigned within. The door opened with a slight creak, and what I saw made me pause for a moment.

Jungwon was huddled under the sheets, his body looking small and frail compared to the room around him. His breathing was ragged, choppy, as if each inhalation was a painful effort. Movement under the sheets was minimal, but I noticed how his body tensed and relaxed in a rhythm that seemed unnatural.

I approached slowly, avoiding any sudden movements that might alarm him, trying to arrange the blankets around him with slow, delicate movements.

When I was close enough, I felt a sudden tug on my wrist. His hand closed around it with unexpected strength, a firm pressure that made me stop in my tracks. The grip was hot, almost feverish, and before I could react, he pulled me to him with a gentleness that contrasted with the strength of his hold.

I found myself being pulled under the sheets, the contact with his skin was immediate, and the first sensation that overcame me was the overwhelming heat emanating from him. His skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, the dampness was palpable and mingled with the cool air in the room.

Jungwon sank into my neck urgently. His lips, soft and warm, found my skin with a mixture of desperation and desire. His mouth, slightly moist, left a warm, sticky trail along my skin. I could feel his lips move in a slow, deliberate rhythm, as if seeking deep comfort in every little brush.

His lips slid down the side of my neck, finding a particularly sensitive spot. There, the brush of his lips became more insistent. His hand began to move under my shirt, brushing my abdomen with a gentleness that contrasted with the intensity of his kisses.

I tried to articulate a few words, but a particularly strong bite on my skin made me let out a choked moan, my body arching into him in response to the sensation. The stabbing pain mixed with the sharp pleasure made my breathing become ragged.

-You… can't leave marks, wonie… -my voice trembling with desire. I was trying to maintain some control, but the urgency in his touch made my words fall apart, drowned out by the moans escaping my throat.

He simply murmured in a voice laden with need -I don't give a shit.

His hands continued their journey with increasing determination.

They pulled up my shirt with firm, purposeful movements, until, with a quick gesture, he pulled it over my head. The feel of the fabric sliding across my skin and the cool air caressing my naked torso made every inch of me bristle.

With precise movements, he undid the clasp of my bra. The subtle sound of the clasp releasing was followed by the feel of the fabric giving way. He tossed the bra aside, unconcerned with where it fell, as his eyes roamed my chest with an almost palpable intensity.

One of his hands went to one of my nipples. He touched it with a mixture of firmness and eagerness, his fingers moving in small circles, squeezing and caressing. His movements were relentless, alternating between grazing the skin and tugging it gently, creating constant stimulation. Each touch and tug made my chest heave, increasing the burning and pleasure.

Jungwon, with a teasing smile, asked -Does it feel good?

Before I could answer, his hand applied a particularly strong tug on my nipple, making me let out a choked moan.

Without wasting a second, he leaned forward and grabbed the other nipple with his mouth. His teeth clamped down on it, biting it hard. The heat of his breath and the brush of his tongue intensified each sensation. Meanwhile, the other remained still in his hand, which after a few moments, he released, leaving it pink and noticeably sensitive.

He peeled off the other with a slow drag of his mouth and, seeing the result of his work, he smiled a satisfied smile. The skin was swollen and red, clearly affected by the intensity of his attention. Without warning, he blew gently on it, letting the cool air contrast with the warmth he had left. A shiver ran through my body in response, wrenching an involuntary moan from me that echoed through the room.

Without hesitation, he lowered his mouth to the other nipple, trapping it between his lips with the same intensity he had shown before. His tongue played with the tip, licking and sucking before his teeth caught it with a precise bite. He stretched it with a firmness that made me gasp, pulling on it with a mixture of gentleness and roughness that ignited my skin.

As his mouth worked on my chest, his hands began to slide down my naked torso, each movement sending a shiver down my spine. His fingers were firm, almost possessive, as they traced the outline of my ribs, slowly moving down to my hips. His fingers followed their path to my thighs, and there, his hands closed tightly, squeezing the flesh as he lifted me up to wrap my legs around his hips. I felt the pressure of his erection against my center, rubbing against the uncomfortable wetness between my legs. A choked moan escaped my lips and my hands clung to his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as my body was reduced to a mess of small moans.

The sensation of his mouth on my chest, combined with the delicious press of his erection against my pussy, had me dizzy, lost in a haze of pleasure. My hands clutched at his hair, tugging lightly as I tried to maintain some sort of control over my body, but it was no use. Every stimulation was too much, but at the same time, it wasn't enough.

Even in my state, Jungwon seemed to be even more anxious. I could feel the lack of patience in his every movement, his body was clearly agitated and needy. His breathing was becoming increasingly ragged, punctuated by grunts and groans of frustration and desire.

With a sudden movement, he peeled himself off my chest, producing a slight "pop" that echoed through the room. With a quick, desperate urgency, he pulled his shirt over his head, the movement revealing his incredible torso. My eyes couldn't tear themselves away from the sight of his perfectly defined abs, every muscle hard and marked in the dim light of the room. His skin tone was slightly golden, and the beads of sweat that still lingered on him glistened like tiny pearls in the light.

My hand moved almost of its own accord, eager to touch him, and brushed his stomach with the softness of a feather, an almost ethereal contact. My fingers traced the contours of his abs, feeling the hardness of his skin beneath my fingertips.

I looked up into his eyes. They were completely dark and dilated. His gaze was so intense, so charged with an almost primal need, that it made me aware of how intimidating he looked at this moment.

His hands moved again, but with a more determined focus. The pressure of his fingers became more intense, moving to the inside of my thighs with a firmness that made me let out a choked gasp.

He slid decisively toward the edge of my shorts. With determination, he slowly pulled them down my legs. Without breaking eye contact, his head slowly descended toward my abdomen, his lips leaving a series of soft kisses that turned into playful nibbles on my skin. Each brush of his lips and light nibble increased the tingling on my skin, making me moan under his touch.

My shorts were discarded completely, leaving me in just my lacy panties. Jungwon, with his mischievous gaze, rested his head on my thigh. His eyes fixed on the obvious stain of my arousal. He looked up slowly, feigning innocence with a playful smile that belied the intensity of his gaze.

-How pretty you sound, noona…"-his fingers, as soft as a whisper, brushed the edge of my panties, sending a shiver down my spine. He slid the fabric down and let out a sigh as he sensed the thin trace of arousal left clinging to the garment.

Sensing the intensity of his gaze, I tried to close my legs in embarrassment. However, he grabbed my knees and pulled them apart with a firm grip. His expression became somewhat hard, and with a threatening tone, he whispered -Don't do that, noona.

Jungwon lowered his head again until he was level with my belly, his burning gaze fixed on my exposed skin. His lips moved kissing and nibbling at my skin with an intensity that bordered on torture.

An unexpected gasp escaped my lips as I felt his rough fingers trailing along my folds, avoiding my clit completely. I tried to move my hips to guide his touch to where I wanted it most, sensing my movement, Jungwon pressed his teeth harder, a clear message for me to stop.

-Wonie…Please… -I pleaded, my voice quivering with pleasure.

A desperate moan escaped my lips as his middle finger began to rub my clit. His movements were deliberately slow and cruel, drawing little circles that made me gasp and writhe in pleasure. Jungwon laughed with a mischievous tone, his laughter laden with a satisfaction that echoed in the air. I felt his fingers slide inside my pussy, and the wetness they found was palpable. The warmth and softness of my insides seemed to greet them eagerly.

His fingers found that spongy spot inside me. The precise pressure on that exact spot caused me to shudder, a wave of intense sensations that almost made me scream. I was so sensitive that every touch seemed to push me over the edge. With a mischievous smile, in a whisper laden with provocation, he said -I found it, noona…

Jungwon leaned toward me, his warm breath caressing my skin. With a mixture of amusement and cruelty in his eyes, he moved to my cheek and left a chaste kiss there. A gesture that seemed to mock the desperation I felt. I could only let out a moan of frustration and desire.

His breath was warm and vibrant brushing against my skin as his lips descended from my cheek to my jaw, and from there, back to my neck. Every kiss and caress was full of provocation. His touch seemed to know exactly how to keep me on the edge of pleasure.

Finally, his lips moved back to my nipples, which were already fully alert from his earlier attention. His kisses were both gentle and demanding, nibbling and licking with almost cruel attention. My hands, in a desperate impulse, pulled her hair tightly.

Meanwhile, his fingers kept moving inside me with lethal mastery. I felt his fingers curling and sliding inside me with devastating precision. Every movement was calculated to stimulate every inch of my insides. My legs began to tremble uncontrollably, the shudder rising from my loins, causing my body to jerk in response to his touch.

My walls contracted around his fingers, adjusting to his every thrust. The pressure and steady rhythm caused my breathing to become erratic, my chest rising and falling rapidly. The moans that were soft before were now becoming higher pitched and desperate, reflective of the intensity of the pleasure I was feeling.

Suddenly, Jungwon stopped.

His face lit up with a sneer as he pulled his mouth away from my chest, leaving one last bite that made me let out a high-pitched moan -J-Jungwon, please -I pleaded, my voice cracking and shaking. He looked at me with an expression that mixed amusement with cruelty -Not yet, noona… -he told me, his voice laden with a commanding but soft tone.

I felt his thumbs press lightly into my muscles, as if he was gauging my reaction, enjoying the way my body responded to his touch. His fingers moved to my inner thighs, slowly moving up, approaching my center, before moving away again, leaving me in a state of torturous anticipation. It was as if he was playing with my boundaries, bringing me to the edge and then pulling away, causing my skin to bristle under his touch.

My head was spinning at the denial of my release. The intensity of the moment had reached a point where my entire being was focused solely on desire and desperation. Jungwon, however, simply leaned over me, his lips brushing my skin with unexpected sweetness, leaving gentle kisses all over my face but my lips. Each kiss was a mixture of softness and control, giving me the time I needed to steady my breathing, though desperation still bubbled beneath the surface.

He watched my chest heave as I tried to catch my breath, my body feeling like jelly, completely surrendered to the sensation of his caresses. Jungwon grasped my chin with a firm but gentle hand. I felt his wet fingers, infused with my own arousal, gliding over my skin.

-Look at me, noona -His authority-laden voice burrowed into every corner of my mind, forcing me to focus on him.

Every blink was an effort as I tried to focus on his face. When I finally looked up at him, I saw his satisfied expression, a gleam in his eyes that made me feel an even deeper mix of submission and desire -There's my pretty noona -he said, his voice vibrating with a mixture of pride and affection.

Before I could react, his lips were on mine. His tongue slid between my lips with a mastery that made me let out a small, almost involuntary moan that vibrated in his mouth. My body responded instinctively, my hands clinging to his neck and shoulders, trying to keep myself anchored as he mastered the kiss.

The kiss began to slow, the separation so slow and deliberate that it left me in a state of euphoria, my body trembling and my senses saturated by the contact.

I was still so disoriented, trying to clear my mind, when I felt his hand disappear from my cheek. A whimper of protest escaped my lips in search of his touch, feeling an immediate emptiness in its absence. The sound of clothes falling to the floor was all I could hear as my mind tried to process what was happening.

A shiver ran through me as I imagined the scene, but before my mind could wander too far, I felt his hand on my cheek again, bringing me back to reality. Jungwon leaned into me, leaving a small kiss on my jaw, and that simple touch sent a wave of relief through me. His soft lips and the way he looked at me seemed to be a mixture of affection and power -You've been so good to me, noona…letting me use you like this -he whispered, his voice was low and filled with an overwhelming confidence that made me shiver with desire.

I was overcome with a mixture of emotions: the submission, desire and satisfaction that filled me were almost too much to take.

-Jungwon… -My voice was barely a whisper, a call drowned out by the intensity of what I was feeling.

Jungwon leaned toward me, and in an unexpectedly tender gesture, placed a small kiss on my nose. His voice became a low murmur, laden with an authority that seemed to know exactly how to manipulate my emotions -Can you still hold out a little longer? -he asked, his tone soft but charged with expectation. I nodded, unable to form coherent words as my mind was in a state of pleasurable confusion.

-Words, noona -he demanded, looking me straight in the eye, waiting for me to tell him what I needed. With a tremor in my voice, I stammered -Y-yes… I can… please…

Slowly, he sank into me, each little piece of him filling me, stretching me as he went deeper. His name came out of my mouth in a choked gasp as my body grew accustomed to him. I could feel every pulse of his body inside mine, the heat and pressure a perfect mix of pleasure and pain that made me arch my back and cling to him.

Jungwon knew exactly what he was doing, he knew his size was pushing me over the edge. He stood still for a moment, letting my body adjust to the intrusion. His hands moved slowly, stroking my sides, his fingers tracing soft lines up and down my skin -So beautiful like this…so full and ready for me

I knew he was controlling his every move so as not to hurt me. Every time his hips moved, I felt my walls tighten around him, trying to settle around him. Jungwon hissed as he felt that tight fit, the sound of his ragged breathing demonstrating how intensely I was affecting him.

With each thrust, my body tensed, the familiar, sought-after knot forming deep in my stomach, tightening and contracting my walls around it. My breathing became erratic, each exhalation a ragged sigh of pleasure. I pressed against him, trying to maximize the sensation, and in response, he let out a guttural -Oh, shit… -between gritted teeth. His hands remained firm on my waist.

-Don't do that, noona… -His voice was a low, authoritative growl, a warning and a plea at the same time. His rhythm became more insistent, each thrust deeper and more demanding. My hands sought his back, clinging to him, digging my nails into his skin. I felt my breathing become ragged, panting as he continued his brutal rhythm.

-Wonie… -I moaned, the pressure in my belly building up more and more.

Despite the intensity of his onslaught, the soft kiss he left on my neck was an almost cruel contrast. Each stroke against my g-spot made me feel like I was on the verge of collapse.

The whispered words in my ear, laden with a mixture of malice and satisfaction, were the final trigger -So good for me… Get off me, noona. I've got you

As his words penetrated my mind, the knot of pleasure erupted with overwhelming force. I felt my pussy clench around him, my body yielding to the surge of pleasure that engulfed me. My juices began to flow spilling all over his pelvis, soaking the base of his cock and dripping onto the sheets.

The sensation of Jungwon moving inside me is overwhelming, a pleasure so intense that I struggle to maintain coherence. His every movement is a deep, meticulous back-and-forth, making sure every inch of his cock slides inside me.

My walls contract frantically around his cock, squeezing tighter and tighter as his onslaught becomes more intense. My breathing becomes erratic, panting deeply as I try to adjust to his relentless rhythm.

-It's too much… please… -I stammered, my voice shaking. The overstimulation was pounding me mercilessly, and my body strained against him.

Jungwon, however, did not slow down. Instead, his voice became a low whisper -Just a bit more, noona…

His lips met mine in an intoxicating kiss. The contact was wild and fervent; I felt his tongue slide in a wild rhythm, thrusting and playing with mine.

His movements were deep and methodical, as if he wanted to ensure that every part of me felt completely filled. I felt my walls tighten around him, a perfect, squeezing fit that made him grunt under his breath. Finally, he spilled inside me with a series of firm, decisive thrusts, his body quivering with release, and the warmth of his semen filling me completely.

The kiss broke abruptly, and he buried his face in my neck, seeking refuge and comfort as his breathing calmed. I felt his warm, moist lips leaving small kisses on my skin. The intensity of his movements faded, and with each breath, I felt his body relax against mine. The room was filled with the echo of our gasps.

As my breathing also began to regulate, I brought my hands to his hair. My fingers slid gently through his locks, caressing his scalp tenderly. I caressed each strand with care, dragging my nails gently across his skin, feeling his muscles relax under my caresses. His skin was warm and moist, and with each movement of my fingers, he let out a murmur of satisfaction, a low, throaty sound that echoed against my neck and confirmed the pleasure my touch was giving him.

His hands began to explore my stomach with gentle, careful movements. I was enveloped in a mixture of tranquility and euphoria, enjoying the feel of his body against mine. The warmth of his hands on my abdomen and the way he held me in a protective, loving way helped me calm down as I caught my breath.

After a few minutes in this position, feeling his comforting weight on me, he slowly lifted his face from my neck and looked at me with those sparkling eyes. With a soft smile, he leaned in and gave me a soft kiss, his lips meeting mine with a sweetness that made me sigh.

When he moved to give me that kiss, I couldn't help but respond to the caress of his mouth. My body, still sensitive and trembling, reacted to the slight movement with a low moan. Despite his softness, the fact that he was still inside me kept me in a state of subtle excitement.

Jungwon broke the kiss with a whisper -Let's clean you up -He gave me one last peak, before placing his hands on either side of my body and towering over me.

I felt a small moan escape my lips as his cock slowly withdrew from inside me. The sensation of emptiness was immediate and sharp, intensified by the warm flow of his semen sliding out of me. I felt the mixture of fluids run down my thighs and mingle with my own fluids.

I watched him as he moved out of bed, his powerful, masculine figure moving with a natural grace toward the bathroom. I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing exhaustion to take over. It wasn't long before I felt his strong arms slide under my knees and around my waist.

I opened my eyes slowly and found Jungwon's chest, broad and firm. I leaned forward to give him a small kiss as a sign of appreciation. I watched as a shy smile formed on his lips, and his ears flushed an adorable shade of pink. The sight of him, with that adorable blush, made me laugh softly. It seemed incredible to me how, minutes before, I could barely articulate words and now he was there, blushing.

Jungwon, with his gentleness, set me down in the bathtub in his room, then slid in behind me, settling against my back in a way that seemed so natural. The silence that settled between us was comfortable, and allowed me to sink into my thoughts.

I found myself thinking about the source of all this sudden need. The last thing I remembered was seeing Jungwon take a headache pill…

Oh

A few days ago, Heeseung and Sunghoon had gone to a slightly racy program, and as part of the prize, they had received some "happy pills" as they had called them, which turned out to be Viagra. The anecdote had been amusing and somewhat embarrassing, and when they returned to the company, they told us the story with a mixture of laughter and embarrassment. Heeseung, put the pills in my bag because we were going to have another recording later and, of course, I completely forgot about them.

I stood there in the bathtub with my mind running at full speed, imagining how Jungwon could have taken the wrong pill. His sudden behavior made much more sense now.

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when I felt Jungwon's fingers close to my chest. His touch was light, almost tantalizing, and provoked a mixture of sensations on my still sensitive skin. His fingers gently explored the area around my nipples, playing with the texture of my skin.

-Jungwon… -I murmured, my voice trembling slightly. As soon as he finished saying his name, his fingers latched onto one of my nipples, pinching it gently, but firmly enough to make me gasp and arch my body towards him. The pinch was so unexpected and stimulating that I couldn't help but let out a low moan, the sensation running from my chest to my core.

-Just one more round, noona.

And so, what started out as "one more round" turned into five.

The pill, as expected, had prolonged Jungwon's endurance beyond reason. I knew he already had remarkable stamina, but with the help of that pill, everything had reached an almost absurd level.

Finally, when we both left the room, the night had already progressed considerably. My body felt heavy and tired, every movement a conscious effort as I tried to stay awake. Exhaustion settled into every fiber of my being, and my muscles, still trembling and aching, resisted moving with the agility they used to.

Arriving in the kitchen, we found Heeseung, who was preparing a late-night snack. The kitchen was illuminated by a soft light that contrasted with the gloom of the night. Heeseung turned as he heard us enter, and his eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

-Aigooo! -he remarked in an almost fatherly tone, as if he were watching a child who had grown up too fast -Our Jungwonie is all grown up… -His words, sprinkled with a kind of playful condescension, were enough for me to understand that he knew exactly what had been going on. It made me smile despite the exhaustion I felt.

Despite the exhaustion that enveloped me, that joke and the knowing look in Heeseung's eyes made me feel a little lighter. Instead of responding with words, I decided to approach him. I moved slowly, feeling each step as an effort, and leaned toward him with a smile that reflected both exhaustion and gratitude.

When I was close enough, I dropped a soft kiss on his lips. I felt the warmth of his lips against mine and the light touch of his arm around my waist. Heeseung reciprocated the kiss with a smile that grew immediately, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and complicity.

When I broke away from the kiss, a sleepy smile crept across my face. The sensation of his warm lips against mine still lingered. I laughed softly before telling Heeseung what had happened.

Heeseung's laughter burst out, full of amusement and derision. His eyes sparkled with a spark of mischief and amusement as he listened to me, and he couldn't contain the laughter that followed my explanation. Heeseung's laughter was infectious, and despite my exhaustion, I couldn't help but laugh too.

Suddenly, I felt Jungwon's arms wrap around me from behind, his body against mine. He entwined his arms around my waist and buried his face in my neck with a mixture of embarrassment and regret. His breath was warm against my skin, and his moan, carried with it a note of pleading -Noona…

I turned slightly to look at Heeseung, who was still watching us with an amused smile on his face. I patted him gently on the arm, a gesture that was both an affectionate touch and a small warning.

Then, I walked over to him, and with a determined gesture, cupped his cheeks between my hands. I felt the smooth texture of his skin under my fingers, and the warmth of his face radiated into my palms. I looked into his eyes, trying to convey the seriousness of what I was about to say, despite the laughter still bubbling in my tone.

-Please don't win any 'happy pill' again

[lecsainz]

could you talk abt riding charles for the first time? 🤠

just ride

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) smut, reader riding, dirty talk and unprotected sex, minors dni!

authors note: I'm not sure if this is how you meant it, but I hope you like it. and the playlist this time was a mix of songs from ariana and lana (the title says a lot...)

word count: 2.6K

Y/N entered the apartment's balcony, the warm breeze of the summer night caressing her skin as she admired the breathtaking view of Monaco's skyline. She knew Charles was on an important call with his engineer, discussing technical details of the upcoming race, but she couldn't resist the urge to tease him.

Dressed in a sheer, lacy nightgown that left little to the imagination, she walked up behind him, running her fingers lightly over his shoulder. Charles glanced at her, his eyes widening in surprise and desire as he tried to maintain his composure on the call.

Y/N whispered in his ear, her voice husky and filled with seduction, "You look so focused, my love. I thought you might need a little distraction."

Charles cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady as he responded to his engineer. "Uh, yes, we'll discuss that later… Sorry, I got…distracted for a moment." He shot Y/N a playful yet pleading look, silently begging her to continue.

She moved closer, her body pressing against his back as she gently slid herself onto his lap. Charles's breathing hitched, and his grip on the phone tightened. Y/N could feel his growing arousal beneath her, making her smile with satisfaction.

With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, Y/N began to sway her hips slowly, grinding against him in a tantalizing rhythm. She trailed her fingers along his jawline, her lips brushing against his earlobe as she whispered, "I want to feel you, Charles. Right here, right now."

Charles's voice wavered slightly as he tried to maintain his professional tone. "Yes, we'll…we'll make the necessary adjustments… I understand… Just give me a moment." He struggled to concentrate on the call, his attention completely captured by the sensation of Y/N's body against his.

Y/N continued to move, her movements growing more insistent as she felt Charles's control slipping away. She nipped at his earlobe, her hot breath fanning across his neck, and whispered, "I want you, Charles. I want you to lose yourself in me."

He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "I… I'll call you back.” Unable to resist any longer, Charles ended the call abruptly, tossing his phone aside. He turned his full attention to Y/N, his eyes filled with raw desire. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N." he growled, his voice laced with need.

His eyes locked with Y/N's, widening in surprise and desire as he took in her appearance.

As his hand moved to caress her cheek, he felt the delicate fabric of her nightgown and realized there was nothing beneath it. His breath hitched, and his heart raced with anticipation. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with need, "You're not wearing anything underneath."

Y/N's lips curled into a playful smile as she leaned closer, her voice low and seductive. "I wanted to surprise you, Charles. I want you to see just how much you excite me."

Charles's eyes darken with desire as he tightens his grip on Y/N's buttocks, drawing her even closer to him. The realization that she's not wearing anything beneath the nightgown sends a surge of excitement through his veins. He can't resist the temptation to tease her, to play with her desires. With a mischievous grin, he slides a finger along her slick folds, feeling her wetness coating his touch.

Y/N's desperate moan only fuels his desire further. "You're so wet, mon amour." he growls, his voice thick with arousal. Y/N's breath hitches at his words, her eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and need.

"Charles," she whispers, her voice laced with desire. "I want to ride you right here on the balcony. I want to take control and show you how much I want you."

"Oh God, Y/N." A low, guttural groan escapes Charles's lips as he nods, his eyes locked with hers. "The idea of you riding me, taking charge… To feel you riding me, your body moving against mine." he urges, his voice husky with desire.

Y/N's eyes burned with desire as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Charles's ear. Her voice was laced with a seductive plea. "Take off your boxers, Charles. I want to feel all of you."

A low groan escaped Charles's lips as he eagerly obliged, sliding his boxers down his legs, his arousal fully exposed. The cool breeze of the Monaco sea caressed their heated bodies, heightening their sensations.

They were both aware of the potential risk of being seen by visitors to the Monaco seaside, but the thrill of being exposed only heightened their arousal. They were lost in their own world, fueled by passion and the breathtaking view before them.

She positioned herself on his lap, her legs straddling him, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace. Her eyes never left his as she slowly sank down, feeling him fill her completely. A gasp escaped her lips as she adjusted to his size.

Y/N began to move, a rhythm of urgency and desire taking over. Her hips rocked back and forth, riding him with increasing speed. Charles's grip on her tightened, his hands gripping her hips as he matched her movements.

The intensity grew, their bodies moving in perfect synchronization. Each thrust brought them closer to the edge, their moans mingling in the air. Y/N could feel the tension building within her, the coil of pleasure tightening with each passing second.

Charles's eyes bore into hers, a mix of ecstasy and astonishment evident in his gaze. "Oh God." he gasped, his voice strained. "You're driving me insane. Don't stop."

With every upward motion, she quickened her pace riding him harder and faster, lost in the throes of passion.

Charles's hands traced a fiery path over her skin, his touch leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. His voice, husky and filled with desire, whispered dirty words of encouragement in her ear, igniting her passion even further.

"You're so fucking hot, Y/N." he growled, his voice dripping with lust. "I love how wet and tight you are for me. Ride me, ma belle. Show me how much you want it."

His words sent shivers down her spine, fueling her primal instincts. With renewed determination, she quickened her pace, her body moving in perfect harmony with his. Their moans mingled together, filling the room with their raw desire.

Charles's hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements, his grip firm and demanding. "That's it, baby," he encouraged. "Grind on me. Fuck me like you mean it. I can't get enough of you."

The intensity grew with each passing moment, their bodies consumed by a maddening frenzy of pleasure. The sound of their skin slapping together mixed with their breathless moans, creating a symphony of passion.

As they rode the waves of ecstasy, Y/N could feel the familiar tightening in her core, the telltale sign of her impending release. Charles sensed her nearing climax and intensified his efforts, his touch becoming more urgent and his words more fervent.

Charles's hands roamed over her body, his touch igniting her further. He whispered dirty words of encouragement, fueling her desire even more.

As Y/N straddled Charles, she could feel his hardness beneath her, pulsating with desire. She began to move, her hips grinding against him, seeking a deeper connection. With each thrust, he moaned, his voice filled with unbridled pleasure.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his voice husky. "You feel so good. Ride me harder, mon amour. Show me how much you want it."

His words fueled her desire, and she rocked her hips with more intensity, their bodies creating a rhythm that echoed through the room. As their passion intensified, Charles leaned forward, capturing one of her breasts in his mouth. His tongue swirled around her hardened nipple, and she couldn't help but let out a loud, uninhibited moan.

The sound of her pleasure only spurred him on, and he continued to lavish attention on her breasts, alternating between gentle nips and lingering sucks. As Y/N's moans grew louder, her nails instinctively dug into Charles's back, leaving a trail of marks as a testament to her ecstasy.

"Shh, mon amour," Charles whispered, his voice filled with a mix of desire and urgency. "We have to be quiet, remember? We're out here on the balcony where anyone could hear us."

Y/N bit her lip, trying to stifle her moans as she continued to ride him. Her voice came out in breathless whispers. "I'll be good, Charles." Y/N's eyes widened with anticipation, her voice hushed but filled with passion. "I'll be as quiet as I can, but I can't promise to hold back when you feel this good inside me."

Charles's grip tightened on her hips, his thrusts growing more urgent. "Hold on tight, cherie, and ride me harder. Show me how much you want it, how much you crave my cock."

Y/N bit her lip, her voice barely a whisper. "I can't hold back anymore, Charles. I need you to fuck me harder and deeper."

Charles reveled in the sensation of her nails raking across his skin, the mixture of pleasure and pain heightening their connection. He couldn't help but growl in response, his own pleasure reaching new heights.

"You're so fucking sexy, mon amour." he rasped, his voice dripping with desire. "I want to feel you come undone beneath me."

As the intensity of their lovemaking reached its peak, Charles felt himself on the edge of release. With each thrust, he could sense Y/N's mounting pleasure, her moans becoming more desperate and her body trembling beneath him.

"You're so tight. I'm close, mon amour. I want to come with you." he growled, his voice filled with raw desire.

Charles could feel her walls pulsating around him, signaling her imminent climax. His hand slipped between their bodies, finding her sensitive bundle of nerves. He began to rub it in firm, circular motions, matching the rhythm of their bodies.

Y/N's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as the dual sensations overwhelmed her. She gripped Charles tightly, her nails digging into his back as she teetered on the edge.

"Oh God, Charles," she gasped, her voice strained with pleasure. "Don't stop. I'm so close."

With an intensity fueled by their shared desire, Charles adjusted his angle, hitting a spot deep within her that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. His pace quickened, his grip on her waist tightening as he chased their release.

Charles's voice dripped with wickedness as he encouraged her further. "That's it, baby. Let go for me. Come all over my cock. Show me how much you want it."

Y/N's body tensed as the pleasure coiled tightly within her, her inner walls pulsating around him. She threw her head back, her moans growing louder and more urgent. And at that moment, as Charles's own release washed over him, he watched with satisfaction as Y/N surrendered to the throes of ecstasy.

As Y/N reached the peak of her pleasure, her body convulsed with waves of ecstasy. She cried out his name, her voice filled with unbridled desire. "Charles, oh God! I'm… I'm coming!"

He watched in awe as she unraveled in his arms, her body trembling with bliss. In one swift motion, Charles lifted Y/N off his lap and guided her to lie back on the sofa. He positioned himself between her legs, his gaze locked with hers as he entered her once again. The familiar heat and tightness surrounded him, and he began to move with a relentless rhythm.

Y/N moaned and clung to him, her nails digging into his back as their bodies collided in a delicious frenzy. She reveled in the feeling of being taken by him, her pleasure building rapidly once more. "Don't hold back, Charles. I want to feel every inch of you." she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of desperation and need.

He obliged, his thrusts becoming harder and more urgent, his control slipping away as the intensity consumed him. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a symphony of passion and desire. The sounds of their gasps and moans mingled with the gentle breeze of the balcony, a testament to the raw intensity of their connection.

With each thrust, they inched closer to the edge, teetering on the precipice of their release. And when it finally came, it was a torrential wave crashing over them. Y/N cried out his name, her body quaking in ecstasy, while Charles groaned in satisfaction, his body pulsating with pleasure.

Y/N's body trembled with aftershocks as she slowly caught her breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Charles held her close, their bodies still intertwined, as they both basked in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. He leaned in, pressing soft kisses along Y/N's neck and collarbone.

He chuckled softly, his voice filled with disbelief and delight. "I can't believe we just did that on the balcony," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. "You have to ride me more often, mon amour. Seeing you on top of me like that… it's an image I'll never forget."

Y/N blushed, a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction washing over her. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with affection and a hint of mischief. "Well, maybe we can find some more adventurous places to explore, Charles." she teased, her voice laced with newfound confidence.

He grinned, his fingers tracing circles on her bare back. "Oh, I'm all for that, ma belle."

As they sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, they knew that their love was a flame that burned fiercely, igniting not only their bodies but also their souls. In the midst of their passion and vulnerability, they had discovered a deeper connection, an unbreakable bond that would carry them through any obstacle.

And as they gazed out at the breathtaking view of Monaco's sparkling coastline from their balcony, the sound of Charles's ringing phone interrupted the moment of bliss. He reluctantly pulled away from Y/N, reaching for his phone with a slightly exasperated sigh.

"It's Xavi." he explained, a hint of frustration in his voice.

Y/N nodded understandingly, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. "Go ahead and take the call, Charles. I'll wait for you."

He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before answering the call. As he listened to his engineer's urgent voice on the other end, Y/N took the opportunity to appreciate the sight before her—Charles, half-naked and still flushed from their passionate encounter, his focus shifting between her and the conversation.

Charles's expression changed from annoyance to intrigue as he engaged in the conversation. He was visibly engrossed in the discussion, occasionally nodding or asking questions. Y/N couldn't help but admire his dedication and talent, even in the midst of their intimate moments.

After a few minutes, Charles concluded the call, a satisfied smile gracing his lips. He set his phone aside and turned his attention back to Y/N, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and admiration.

"Sorry about that, mon amour," he said, his voice husky with lingering lust. "But where were we?"

Y/N smirked, pulling him closer and trailing her fingertips along his bare chest. "I believe we were in the middle of something quite pleasurable."

Charles's eyes sparkled mischievously as he scooped Y/N up in his arms, effortlessly carrying her to their bedroom. She let out a playful squeal, her legs wrapping around his waist.

"Are you ready for round two, mon amour?" he whispered, his voice filled with anticipation.

Y/N grinned, her fingers running through his tousled hair. "Oh, I'm more than ready." she replied, her voice brimming with excitement.

And as the door closed behind them, their laughter and passionate whispers filled the air, leaving the rest of their passionate escapades to be explored and savored in the privacy of their bedroom.