#spitting some hot takes if i do say so myself

[kaseyskat]

Okay so related to my post from last night, I wanted to elaborate on my thoughts very specifically regarding Sparrow and Hero and the messy messy nuance surrounding their relationship that often goes overlooked in the name of simply attaching the "bad parent" label to Sparrow and calling it a day. I've talked about this before, but I'm feeling it again lmao.

Sparrow's relationship with Hero is nuanced. It was destined to be nuanced the moment it was revealed that a prophecy would deem her the Chosen One. Now, I know we still don't know exactly when the prophecy was given to the twins or even what the full prophecy entails, but we do know it shaped Hero's life in an irreparable way. I don't need to tell y'all that much though, because everyone in this fandom knows that, they know what the prophecy did to Hero but I've been surprised time and time again that nobody thinks to dig deeper into their motivations: aka, why did the twins feel it was necessary to raise Hero the way they did? The easy way out is to say they are both horrible parents and call it a day (if anything is said of Lark at all- it's kind of appalling that most people absolve Lark of all blame and solely pin everything on Sparrow when they've always done everything together).

So let me explore one of the what-ifs. Say you are a kid raised as a normal kid having a normal life. One day, though, when you're a teenager, you suddenly inherit the legacy of your parents- their monsters, the end of the world, everything. Pretty akin to how s2 starts, in fact! Except while this is so sudden for you... turns out they knew the entire time that you would inherit this mantle, and they did nothing, said nothing, and now you're completely unprepared to face an eldritch monster that even your father and uncle couldn't defeat on their own. That would be pretty bad, right? Bad parenting on their part, knowing that this would happen and doing nothing?

"But that didn't happen!" you tell me, arguing in my tags and in comments under my posts. "Hero didn't have to face the Doodler!" Sparrow and Lark don't know this. As far as we know, they received a prophecy either right before or right after Hero was born saying she would be the one to face the Doodler. Normal wasn't in the picture, it isn't a question of if that would happen, it was when. What if Hero was a toddler? A child? A teenager? What if the two of them died and she was all alone in this fight? This prophecy was the only tell of the future they have, and it said that their firstborn would be the one to face the Doodler and finish the battle Lark started.

And speaking of Lark; I've said this before, but one of the more underrepresented aspects of Lark's character in the fandom is him feeling helpless as a weakness of his. He doesn't like being put in a position where he can do nothing- this being very apparent in recent episodes, when Sparrow was taken and Lark was left alone panicking. This is how the rogue card took affect on him in the first place, because he hated feeling helpless when Walter was injured and it invoked his rage at Henry for putting him in that position in the first place.

And the twins are no stranger to being dropped into a situation unprepared. They were only kids in s1, thirteen years old at the oldest, younger than the s2 teens and yeah they did their best and rose to the top but that doesn't mean they weren't kids in a world they knew nothing about. They have both been in Hero's shoes, with one caveat: they were the ones who could prepare her in a way that they were not, to ensure that no matter when she faced the Doodler, she would be ready, she would never feel as helpless as they had when they were also just kids.

And yeah, maybe they took it too far, pushed her too hard. But that's never the argument I see online- that the twins should've been more in tune with Hero's mental state and adjusted her training accordingly. Instead, all I ever see is people bashing them for training her in the first place, comparing them to the other kiddads... except even then, the other kiddads didn't have nearly as big of a stake in this as the twins did, nearly as much of the pressure. The world at the time when the kiddads inherited DADDIES didn't need Taylor or Link to be ready to face the Doodler, but the twins knew for sure that it would need Hero, and they had to raise her accordingly. What if it had happened when Hero was six? Or ten? Or thirteen? Would it have been fair to her then to go into that fight untrained? The twins could never have known that it would be Normal and his friends to actually step in and help the Doodler, at the time they couldn't have known that Normal would need to be involved at all!

And, in the end, Hero's training did stop. Again, we don't know exactly how it happened, but we do know Lark and Sparrow, and I can imagine we all agree that it would've been Sparrow's call, not Lark's, to prioritize Hero's mental health and let her finish her teenage years as a normal kid. And accepting that they shouldn't involve Hero meant they had to find an alternative solution. That solution, what we see in canon, was genocide.

It's very fun to me personally to see Sparrow's arc come full circle in that way. He gets the love wolf talk from Henry because the twins were going to kill a lot of people in their own quest, he agrees that would be wrong, and then he gets a full arc of realizing that he can't force himself to care about the rest of the world but he does care about his family. He cares about his family enough that he enacts Code Purple to send the Doodler to Faerun and save the lives of Henry, Lark, Hero, and Normal. And, later... well, we know what the kiddads plan was for reentering Faerun and collecting magic items. We know their plan was to blow up the Doodler using the Sun and inevitably wiping out an entire realm in the process. That's not an easy choice to make, and it goes against everything Henry taught Sparrow in s1... but Sparrow was willing to do it because it would mean that Hero wouldn't have to be involved. Sparrow loved Hero so much that he was going to go against his own morals to protect her and stop the Doodler himself.

And like to me. To me? That makes Sparrow a far better parent than anyone else on this app ever gives him credit for. He pushed her too hard, realized he did so, and was willing to commit genocide to ensure she never had to be the Chosen One, to prove the prophecy wrong. Like I said; it is nuanced and there's no telling how different things would've gone if the s2 teens hadn't gotten involved, if Hero had faced the Doodler in combat before she was ready, if the twins had tried the genocide plan sooner. But it does prove my point from my earlier post: everyone wants a morally grey character who is willing to commit atrocities in the name of protecting their family, and here we are with Sparrow Oak Garcia, who fits that bill to the letter, and yet he is villainized, portrayed as a horrible person and a horrible father, and more! And it's really frustrating cause I know if Lark had been the one to make these decisions it would be accepted under the guise of Lark just being "like that" as a character, or people would find it attractive because everyone agrees that Lark is morally grey in an acceptable, attractive way. Lark is nuanced, but Sparrow is nuanced too- but we know, we know that Sparrow loves his kids more than he loves himself, that he'd burn the world down for BOTH of them, and I think it's about time we stop sleeping on him as a character and stop portraying him as a villain in Hero and Normal's story when I truly believe Sparrow stands the biggest chance of all three of Hero's parental figures to reconcile with her and when he's expressed countless times that he wants to make things right with Normal if only Normal gave him the chance.

[seiwas]

IRIS I AM LITERALLYABSJXNID XOMF 😭😭😭😭 i love him . thank u . i love him . i loooooooooove him . i ran out of tags iris but him asking for ur socials if numbery is uncomfy? the cherry on top he is literally the dream . the respectful boy to ever . and i need him . want him . NEOOOOOOOOOOOWWW

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

summary: a creep walks up to the shake stand window. your favorite customer scares him off. (college au!iwaizumi x you)

wc: 1.9k

cw/tags: college!au iwaizumi, creepy dude but he gets scared off don't worry, buff iwa gets nervous around you

note: so there's a protein shake stand like right outside my school's gym and that's where the inspiration for this little brain fart came from. also this is wholeheartedly dedicated to @shotorus my favorite iwa simp. i really hope you like this, it's my first time writing for your man but it most definitely will not be the last :D

likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated <3

You didn’t anticipate finding a gym crush outside of the student rec center. Yet, there he was, every day at 5:00 passing the stand and every day at 6:30 ordering his usual, strawberries and bananas with chocolate protein powder. It’s a wonder how strictly he stuck to his schedule and you made it a point to have his order queued up in the system by the time he got to the window. To your detriment, it seemed that your infatuation had become obvious enough to your usually-oblivious coworkers. 

“At this point, I think you took this job just to ogle him,” one of your friends points out as she runs a colander of fruit under the faucet. You give her a lighthearted glare and she flicks a few water droplets at you. “I’d guess you like seeing him more than the tips that other guys put in the jar. You really do so much for this company,” she says patronizingly and you roll your eyes. She had a point; you tended not to notice the phone numbers written on dirty napkins or social media handles hastily drawn on dollar bills. None of them interested you. None of them, except for the dude with a body like a Greek hero that made you want to get kidnapped by some mythological being. 

“I just think he has a nice physique; is that such a bad thing?” She shoots you a skeptical look and you turn away sheepishly to check the clock. Thirty seconds to 6:30. “He should be here in a little bit,” you say quietly to yourself, hoping she doesn’t hear. It’s a nice sentiment, but ultimately futile. 

“You’re counting down the seconds? Man, you’re worse than I thought.” She pats your shoulder sympathetically as she passes behind you and you lean your hands on the register counter. 

“As if you’ve never had a gym crush before,” you fire back. 

“You’re supposed to actually be inside the gym to have a gym crush,” she reminds you and you groan. “Why don’t you just switch your shift so you can see him while you workout?”

“I tutor before this, remember? Plus, I need to be able to charm the evening regulars so I can keep paying rent,” you admit. She nods in understanding and a glance at the clock shows ten seconds until 6:30. Your other usuals had come and gone for the day: the guy in the blue tank top that only seemed to work his forearms and biceps, the girl with the silly socks that had the most muscular calves you’d ever seen, the two frat bros with their backwards caps and arrogant voices. It hits 6:30, however, and your favorite regular isn’t behind the glass. He isn’t anywhere around, you realize. You can’t help the frown that draws the corner of your mouth down and, when you look to your coworker for support, she merely shrugs before grabbing a tub of powder from the top shelf. “It’s odd that he isn’t here yet.”

“Only you would think that,” she teases and you refocus on pulling up his usual order on the payment screen. “Maybe he got sick. There’s that frat flu going around right now.”

“Why would he be in a frat, though? And also, he’s definitely the type to wipe the hell out of every machine he uses.”

“If he uses machines; personally, he strikes me as a free weights-only kind of guy.” Before you can reply, a knock on the glass startles you back into customer-service mode. The man in front of you looked relatively normal, but the way his eyes looked you up and down several times made your stomach queasy. It wasn’t the first time creeps had checked you out through the window, but maybe you were feeling a little extra vulnerable waiting around for a regular who didn’t even know your name. Avoiding the man’s intrusive gaze, you shakily pull up his order, swipe his card for payment, and let him know that his shake would be ready soon. 

“I have a question,” he says slowly before you can run and hide in the back. “What time are you out of here?”

“I’m not done for a while,” you state vaguely, praying that he wouldn’t ask about the remaining two and a half hours of your shift. “I work until closing.”

“I can come back and get you when you close.” His voice makes your skin crawl and his eyes feel like knives on your body.

“Excuse me?”

“Let me take you out to dinner. A nice looking person like you shouldn’t be alone at night.” Your heart drops into your stomach and your feet remain rooted to the floor, terrified in place. Was he gonna try to do something after you were off?

“Look, I’m not interested in any–”

“Hey, man. Are you done ordering yet? You’re holding up the line,” intrudes a voice that feels like a warm blanket wrapping around your shoulders. Somewhere between his usual order time and the creep asking you out, your favorite little crush came to stand in line to pay. His shoulders seemed extra broad today and the muscle of his biceps flexed under his compression shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring daggers down at the guy who was freaking you out. He’d never looked so handsome, all sharp jawline and flexed muscles and piercing eyes. The creep recoils and scurries away, allowing you to take a deep breath that helps relieve some of the tension in your forehead. By pure muscle memory and running on adrenaline, your fingers swipe over the tablet and pull up his usual order before he can even say hello. 

“Strawberry and banana with chocolate protein powder, right?”

“Yeah, that…that’s mine,” he says, slightly taken aback by the lingering expression of panic on your face. While he eyes you warily, you swipe his card and hand him his receipt, suddenly desperate to just disappear into the back for the rest of your shift. “Hey, are you okay?”

“What? No, yeah. I’m fine, totally fine,” you lie and give him a weak smile. His eyebrows furrow slightly and you can feel him try to analyze you, but not in the dehumanizing way as your previous customer. His eyes searched your expression worriedly and you caught him biting skin from his lip in concern. “It’s just that the guy before you was being a little weird.” Calling him “weird” was an understatement, but you didn’t want to inconvenience him more than you already have. “I’m fine, really.” He watches you for a moment more and then nods, murmuring a thank you under his breath and finding a spot to wait for his shake. 

“This fell on the floor by the trash can,” he says plainly when he walks up to the pickup window after you call out his drink. The creepy guy hadn’t left the area yet, so your fight or flight instincts were still going haywire. Your gym crush, however, momentarily takes your attention by subtly sliding a dirty piece of paper across the counter to you as he picks up his cup with the other hand. “Thanks; I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before you can blink, he’s gone, leaving you with a cryptic folded message that makes your head spin. You sputter out an awkward farewell and hastily unfold the piece of paper. 

I’ll be studying in the computer lab until the stand closes. If he’s still bothering you, come find me and I’ll walk you to your car or your dorm or wherever. -Iwaizumi Hajime 

A sturdy rectangle of plastic falls from the paper and you stare at it in disbelief. It was an ID card for the university’s after-hours patrol division with his picture, full name, and student number printed on it. Iwaizumi, you echo mentally, you’re too good to be true. And, true to his promise, he’s a respectful distance away and stands with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants at 9:00 when you lock up the shake stand. You’d lost sight of the creep an hour after Iwaizumi picked up his drink, but the paranoia didn’t leave your body and you’re only able to relax when he approaches you. 

“This is yours,” you say, handing him his ID card with a small smile. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you had to deal with him,” he replies regretfully, uncomfortably adjusting his water bottle tucked into the crook of his elbow. “None of the guys at the gym like him. He’s always hitting on girls and giving them weird looks.” 

“Looks like he was forced to look outside the gym, then,” you laugh lightly, feeling the tension release from your shoulders as you walk next to Iwaizumi in the direction of the parking lot. “Did your drink still taste okay? Or did my nervousness make it taste funny?” When he chuckles, it sounds like sunshine. 

“It was just as tasty as it always is, thank you. You’ve really figured out how to make me the perfect drink every time.”

“Anything for my favorite customer,” you say without hesitation and your face feels like it’s been lit on fire. To your surprise, however, it seemed that Iwaizumi was just as flustered by your words. His eyes widen and his pretty mouth gapes a little bit, blinking rapidly to fix the short circuit in his brain. “I just hope he doesn’t come around here again. He makes my stomach churn.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he forces out and he’s silent for a while until your car is in sight. “Hey, sorry if this is super off-base, but do you wanna workout with me sometime? I can change the time I go but, if it means you don’t feel scared by that guy anymore, I’ll gladly rearrange my schedule.” 

“You want me to workout with you?”

“I’d like to meet you for lunch sometime, too, but I figured I’d start with baby steps,” he admits, running a hand nervously through his hair while you fish your keys from your bag. “If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine–”

“No, no, I’d love to,” you reassure him and he looks visibly relieved. “I’ll change up my shift so you can still go around the same time you usually do, and I can just meet you outside. I’ve been needing a new spotter since mine picked up extra shifts in the library.” 

“Great, yeah, awesome,” he says, a little dumbfounded by how eagerly you would give him a chance. If he was being honest, he’d wanted to ask you your name for months since you memorized his order, but he didn’t want to come off as pushy and ruin his chance with you. “Do you, uh, mind if I give you my number? Or I can give you a social media handle too if you’re not comfortable sharing your number.” God, he’s so good. He is so, so good. “Can you let me know you get home safe?”

“I will,” you promise. “Thank you for everything, Iwaizumi.”

“You can call me Hajime, if you want,” he offers softly and the fondness in his voice makes your heart flip. “Iwaizumi is fine too. Anything is fine.” 

“Right,” you smile. “Well, goodnight, Hajime. Get home safe.”

“You too. Talk soon, okay?”

“I can’t wait.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[selfcarecap]

Halloween [L.H.]

Logan Howlett x neighbour!reader

summary: You dress up as Wolverine for Wade’s Halloween party and it unleashes something in Logan. Him wearing a Ghostface mask also unleashes something in you. Or: Logan fucks you wearing a Ghostface mask.

warnings: smut 18+ (oral, unprotected (but inconsequential) p in v, creampie, doggy in front of a mirror, missionary, cum eating and also Logan spitting it into reader’s mouth, brief chasing kink, (Ghostface) mask kink obv, pet names: bub, baby, good girl), worst!Logan I guess but I couldn’t find a pic to use, Wade being Wade 

word count: 3.8k

note: I didn’t have that much time to write this but I wanted to post something for Logan before Halloween so <3, inspired by that I want to be fucked for Halloween sound on tt lol you'll see what I mean, and some ideas me and @ethanhoewke talked about 🤭, also I’ve never watched Scream so all I can do is mention the mask lol | gorgeous dividers by @dollywons & @anitalenia <3

You meet your neighbours Logan and Wade in the laundry room of your building on Thursday night. They’re fighting over whether they’re going to do a couple’s costume for Wade’s Halloween party next week. 

“We’re not a couple, Wade. We’re not doing a couple’s costume.”

Wade sighs as he stuffs his blood splattered clothes into the washing machine – you’ve learnt not to ask anymore. 

“Hey,” Logan says when he sees you, and those three letters are enough to make your cheeks heat up. You wave at them both, busying yourself with your own washing. 

Wade puts his hand on his hip, “Can you believe Logie won’t do a couple’s costume with me after I adopted him and put a roof over his head? He’s such an ungrateful brat.”

You giggle, meeting Logan’s gaze as he rolls his eyes at his roommate. He turns away to let you do your laundry in peace but Wade walks over to you, sitting down on the bench behind you. 

“What do you want to be for Halloween? Sexy nurse? Sexy doctor? Sexy cop?”

You laugh, “Why do they all have to be sexy?”

“Because it’s you, so it’s impossible for the costume to not be sexy,” Wade raises his eyebrows and you smile at the compliment, sitting down next to him. 

You sigh as you think about his question. 

“Fucked, Wade. I want to be fucked for Halloween.”

You hear a chuckle from Logan a few feet away. You were hoping he wasn’t listening, but he does you the favour of keeping his head turnt in the other direction as he sorts through laundry. You’re closer with Wade – you didn’t necessarily want Logan knowing how badly you need to get laid. 

Wade points to his own chest, “Wait, by moi?”

“I love you but I’d prefer someone who doesn’t look like a burnt chicken nugget.”

“You know what? Even though I look like a burnt chicken nugget, I still love myself. Learned that from the OG.”

You smile, “And anyway, I thought you and Vanessa were back together?”

“That we are,” Wade says, rising to his feet and twirling out of the room like a ballerina, calling out, “I’ll see you later for movie night!” 

“He’s fucking crazy,” Logan says, chuckling, and you smile as you finish doing your laundry. 

-

You’re late to Wade’s Halloween party the following week. You rush two floors up to their shared apartment, but your knocks go unnoticed through the loud music coming from inside and the door won’t open. 

You’re about to get your phone out to call Wade but you realise you can’t. Your fake claws are in the way. 

You’re dressed up as Logan. You recently saw some pictures of when he was younger, effortlessly hot in a tanktop and jeans, hair styled charmingly, almost like kitty ears. 

Accordingly, you’ve got yourself a fitted tanktop, jeans that make you stop in front of every mirror to admire your backside, and a belt with a big buckle like the ones he used to wear. You’ve paired your outfit with kitty ears the colour of your hair and, of course, fake claws protruding between your fingers. 

You hope Logan doesn’t take offence. In your rush to get ready for the party, you didn’t even consider that. 

What if he doesn’t like your costume? What if he thinks it’s disrespectful? You know he’s struggled with his mutation, after all, hurt people he loved because of it. Wade told you the costume was a good idea when you showed him your outfit the other day, but Wade isn’t Logan. 

Plus, it’s Halloween. Halloween is supposed to be scary, even if most people’s costumes aren’t scary nowadays. What if Logan thinks you’re calling him a scary monster? Oh god. You’re considering going downstairs and changing – into what, you don’t know, but the last thing you want is to offend Logan, and if there’s even just a small chance of it then you don’t want to do it after all. Suddenly, you see Logan.  

He’s walking down the hallway where you’ve zoned out, arms folded awkwardly because of your claws. He stops in his tracks, a plastic shopping bag hanging from his hand, and he’s squinting at you; you wouldn’t say he looks mad but you’re not sure. 

Logan comes closer, folding his arms. “Are you supposed to be me?” 

A smile creeps on his face as you tentatively answer with a “…yeah?”

He looks you up and down and it makes your skin heat up as he takes a step forward, “Not sure if I should be offended, bub.”

Oh no–

He continues with a smirk, “Going around stealin’ a man’s look and doing it better than him? Can’t say that outfit used to look that good on me.” You sigh a breath of relief. He likes it. You smile at his compliment, and then he’s reaching out to give a light tug on the cat ears in your hair. 

“I don’t get what these are supposed to be though.”

You push the plastic hair band back in place as you smile up at him, “You know exactly what they are.”

Logan shrugs. “You got something wrong though.”

He stands next to you with the side of his arm pressed against yours, and you gulp at the sudden contact with his warm, beefy arm. Logan makes a fist and unsheathes his claws, holding them next to yours, and they’re at least three times the length of your fake ones, metal sparkling even in the shitty light of the corridor. 

“Should be much bigger,” he smirks, pulling them back in and unlocking the door for you. You don’t miss the implication behind his words, and you swallow as you step into the loud party in their apartment that is decorated to the nines for Halloween. 

Wade runs over to you to hug you, wearing a sexy maid costume over his Deadpool suit. 

“I love it,” you tell him while he simultaneously compliments your outfit. You look around for Logan and only just catch him closing the door to his bedroom, and he disappears behind it. You were too distracted just now to realise that he wasn’t even wearing a costume. 

Your shoulders deflate as you realise he’s probably not coming back out. He was half of the reason you even came to the party. You were looking forward to spending some time with him, but now that you think about it, you wouldn’t expect him to be interested in a Halloween party, crafting an elaborate costume and hanging up corny decorations the way Wade did. 

You try to shake off your disappointment and enjoy yourself nevertheless. 

-

You’re stumbling back to the kitchen after dancing with Wade and Vanessa, getting yourself a drink. You’re softly humming to the music coming from the other room when you feel a presence behind you. 

Your heart speeds up for a moment when you see someone in a Ghostface mask standing right beside you. He’s wearing the mask with a black, tight tanktop stretched over his broad chest. You smell Logan’s cologne as the scent swirls in the air around you, but you could have recognised him by the veins on his arms alone.  

You try to keep your hopes at bay but you can’t help but wonder if he’s wearing the mask because of you. When you watched Scream with him and Wade the other night, Wade kept teasing you about your crush on the killer. 

At the time you felt like disappearing, hoping that Logan was as disinterested as he claimed, that he wasn’t listening to anything you two were saying, but now you’re glad he heard. If he’s wearing the costume for your sake. Which he probably isn’t. You’ve tried to convince yourself that your crush is unrequited, just to protect yourself. It’s a common Halloween costume, nothing to do with you… probably. 

“Hi,” Logan says. You can’t see his face but you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Hey…,” you reply, almost shakily, “didn’t think you were coming.”

“I wasn’t going to, couldn’t be bothered to think of a costume. But then I found this so I thought I’ll join you.”

You nod along as he tells you about going out to buy the mask only today, but you’re not paying attention. All you can focus on is how hot it is that you can’t see Logan’s face through the mask, but you still know it’s him. The way his voice is slightly muffled yet strong makes you shudder. 

“So, has your wish for Halloween come true yet?”

You give him a confused smile, only just realising that he’s asking you something.

“You told Wade you wanted to get fucked for Halloween.”

Not able to stop a shy grin from spreading over your face, you say, “Oh. No, hasn’t happened yet. Not counting on it.” 

“No one you like here?” Logan asks, and you look up at him, at the Ghostface mask, trying to think of a flirty reply when Wade’s voice cuts through the tension in the room. 

Wade runs over to Logan, leaning his head to the side flirtily, “I told you it’d look hot, peanut. Are you gonna hunt me later, Mr. Ghostface?” Wade brings a finger to his lip, and, for once, Logan doesn’t get annoyed by his jokes.

“Ghostface only hunts good girls,” Logan says, and your heart starts to beat faster yet again when you realise Logan is looking down at you.

“Am I not a good girl?” Wade asks, and Logan just huffs, ignoring him. You can’t see his eyes, but you can still feel them on you. You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning out loud.

It’s not much later that Logan is chasing you through the hallways of your building, with you giggling and squealing only a few feet ahead of him as the adrenaline pumps through you. 

He gave you a headstart but you know he’ll catch you. You want him to catch you. You’re fumbling with the keys to your apartment when he reaches you, your heart hammering in your chest at the thrill of being chased. 

Logan’s hands go to your waist as he pushes you against your front door. 

“I got you.”

You reach up to gently tug the mask off but he stops you when only his lips are exposed, and he grins. You smile and lean up to kiss him, and you somehow manage to fit your key into the lock while you’re making out and push the door open. 

Logan lifts you and throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing as he carries you to your bedroom. 

With your claws and the rest of your clothes discarded on the floor minutes later, Logan is fucking you in front of the mirror by your bed. He’s taking you from behind, mask still on as he pulls and pushes at your hips with you fucking back against him as the mattress dips beneath you. 

But as hot as it is to see the Ghostface mask looking down at you through the mirror, it’s also your first time having sex with Logan and you want to see him.

“Can I take the mask off?” you ask, looking back at him and Logan lifts you so that your back is flush with his chest. You turn around and pull the mask off over his head with a smile.

His hair is messy and a little bit sweaty, and as good as Logan usually looks you don’t think you’ve ever been quite this attracted to him. He holds your face to press a few sloppy kisses to your lips, and then he turns you back around to face the mirror.

Logan doesn’t push you back on all fours, but takes your arms and clasps them behind your back, holding them together with one big hand. He slides his cock back into your wet pussy and begins to rub your clit with his other hand.

“Look at you,” he nods towards the mirror, and you meet his eyes in it, watching as his gaze trails down your body, to where his hand disappears between your soft thighs, “So fucking pretty.”

You lean your head back against his shoulder as he continues to play with your pussy, but he can’t properly fuck you at this angle, so you buck back against him until he manoeuvres you onto your back.

His lips find yours again and your arm sneaks around the back of his neck, holding him close as you kiss him desperately. You whine when his lips leave yours. He kisses down your neck and over your collarbones, down over your tits and over your belly. He arrives between your legs with a smirk and licks through the wetness of your pussy.

He moans when he first makes contact, “tastes even better than I fucking imagined, baby.”

You smile down at Logan as he pulls your socked feet onto his shoulders, fingers grabbing your ankles. “You’ve imagined this?”

Logan looks up at you, “Every single fucking day. You haven’t?”

You smile bashfully despite his own admission, but he doesn’t let you answer anyway, moving his head back between your legs to make out with your pussy. He pushes two fingers inside you, the tips of his fingers rubbing up against your g-spot.

You begin to squirm as the heat builds up in your lower stomach, but Logan holds your hips down with his muscular forearm over your waist, “Stay still for me, baby, okay?”

Logan starts sucking on your clit, and you cum immediately, back arching as you grab onto his hair. Your pussy pulses and throbs around his fingers as pleasure floods your body. You grind up to meet his mouth and he lets you use him until you’re breathless.

He places a last, rough kiss on your pussy, getting back on his knees to fuck you, but you breathe out, “Give me a second.” You smile shyly, your pussy still squeezing around nothing every few seconds.

“Of course, bub.” He leans down to kiss you and you mumble a question against his lips.

“Can I go down on you?”

Logan smiles and sits up, “Me or…?” he nods over to the mask. 

You shrug shyly, “Well, if you’re offering.”

“Why do you think I wore it?” Logan smirks, pulling the mask back on. You briefly pull it up to his forehead again to give him a small kiss of appreciation.

He holds your hand as you get off the bed, sinking down onto the carpeted floor. You smile as his hard cock bobs in front of your face, glistening with precum and your wetness.

You place your hands on his knees and softly trace a path down his cock with your tongue, gently sucking his balls as you look up. A thrill shoots through you when you only see the mask looking back at you, and you move to suck Logan’s dick into your mouth as deep as you can, tasting your own arousal on him.

He throbs hotly against your tongue as you let spit run down his length, slapping his cock against your tongue.

“Such a good girl,” Logan’s voice sounds from above you, and you look up at him, at the Ghostface mask, as you take his cock in your mouth again, your hands back on his knees for support.

You make out with the head of his cock, gently sucking on the skin down the side of him, licking your way up, playing with him.

“I’m close, baby,” he moans.

You mumble against his skin, telling him to take off the mask, and even though it comes out muffled he hears. Logan tugs off the mask in one quick movement, looking down at you with his eyebrows drawn together in pleasure and his lips bitten raw. His face glows with desire and a hint of sweat, and he hums when you suck him into your mouth.

You use your hand to jerk off the rest of him, moving your mouth down on him as far as you can, and your eyes flutter shut when you hear Logan moan, and he’s spilling the first ropes of his load down your throat. You keep sucking until you’ve swallowed all of his cum, and only then do you take your mouth off him.

Sitting back, suddenly shy, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand but Logan’s already tugging you up to the bed to kiss you.

“You got another orgasm in you?” he asks against your lips. You straddle him and feel his hard cock smack against your thigh as you tell him yes. He tips you onto your back, leaning down to press a wet kiss to your pussy.

When he gets between your legs and pushes his cock into you again it somehow feels even better than the first time as you gasp in pleasure.

“You’re so warm, bub. So perfect. Wanna stay here forever,” Logan says mindlessly as he bottoms out, and you whine into his mouth.

“Want you inside me forever too,” you babble, already fucked out. You wrap your legs around his waist as he fucks you. It feels like your wet pussy is sucking him in with the way you clech around him, and you both know you won’t take long for your next orgasms.

He slips a hand between your bodies to rub your clit as he begins to fucks you deeper. “You gonna cum for me again, bub? You make such a cute face when you cum. Let me see it again, baby.”

You’re nodding dumbly and letting the feeling of him take over, not just his big cock in your pussy and his slicked fingers on your clit, but the way his body feels on top of yours, warm skin against warm skin as he sloppily kisses your jaw and neck, and you cream around his cock as you cum, moaning his name.

“That’s it, baby, doin’ so well. Taking my big cock like a good girl, hm?” Logan’s voice is strained, and then he’s cumming too, filling you up with his warm release until your pussy is stuffed full with his cock and his cum. He pulls out slowly and rubs your sensitive clit a little more.

“So pretty,” he mumbles, fucking two fingers into you and when he pulls them out they’re coated in his sticky load.

You reach out to pull him down by his wrist and take his fingers into your mouth, sucking his cum off them as he smirks down at you, rubbing a hand over his face to calm himself for now.

You both come down from your highs with laboured breaths, and he pulls you to lie your head on the pillow. Logan wraps his arms around you, just cuddling you for a bit, when you realise something and smile up at him.

“So, are you that narcissistic that seeing me dressed up as you made you want to fuck me?” 

Logan smirks. “Nah, wanted to fuck you way before that. And I’m just honoured you like me enough to dress up as me.”

You open your mouth for a rebuttal but he instead takes that opportunity to push his tongue back into your mouth as he holds the side of your face. You make out lazily for another few moments, slinging your leg over his hip, but then you drag his hand away from your face.

“Well, I’m honoured you like me enough to dress up for me.” 

“Baby, there’s a lot more I’d do for you than just dress up in a horror mask.”

“Really?” you smile. Logan nods earnestly. He holds you in his arms for a few minutes as you relax into the comfortable silence.

He pulls your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles, “Will you go out with me?”

You giggle then, “Don’t think you have to ask me anymore.”

“What? I wanna be a gentleman.”

“Yeah, very gentlemanly what you just did to me.”

You feel some of Logan’s cum drip out of your pussy and onto his thigh in that moment.

Logan looks at you and gives you a silly smile, lifting your leg off him to sit up, “Yeah, baby, I am a gentleman, and a gentleman cleans up after himself.”

He spreads your thighs as he gets between them, and licks up your pussy, coating his tongue in his own cum. You smile at his words but soon you begin to pout in pleasure as he starts going down on you again.

You sigh when he stops and moves up to your face, but you smile when you realise what he’s doing, happily parting your lips for him. Logan leans over you and spits his cum into your mouth, “We taste good together, hm?” he asks.

You swallow your combined arousals eagerly, closing your eyes as you savour the taste, but a gentle pat on your clit makes you open them again.

“You got another one in you, right, baby? Just one.” You nod quickly, unable to form words with you needily spread open for Logan like this. 

Lying back, you let Logan eat your pussy until you’re cumming again, your thighs pressing against his temples as he grabs at the flesh of your legs, licking your clit until you’re satisfied.

Logan lies back down next to you with his lips still shiny with your wetness, and you lean in for another kiss. He takes you in his arms to cuddle, when he asks you again.

“So, will you go on a date with me?”

“Only if it ends with you doing that thing with your mouth again,” you tease.

“Oh, trust me, I’m not going a day without it anymore.”

You giggle into his neck, relaxing against his muscular body.

Logan turns around when he gets a text, showing you his phone. It’s a message from Wade:

Everyone left and I’m about to give Vanessa a happy Halloweener if you know what I’m saying! So don’t come home tonight but I have a feeling you weren’t going to anyway ;)

Logan cringes while you laugh, ready to put his phone back when another message comes through.

And if you don’t treat her right I’ll cut off your Halloweener

Logan groans, switching off his phone. You laugh against his skin and let him hold you until you both sink into a warm, cozy sleep.

P.S. Logan thinks good girls reblog and comment on the fics they enjoy 🤭🙂‍↕️

[f1amour]

✧˚ · . make me juno

pairing | max verstappen x popstar!reader

word count | 2.3k

content warnings | some social media au, established relationship, smitten max, light dom!max, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fingering, brief choking kink, praise kink, squirting, HEAVY BREEDING KINK, cock warming, teasing, unprotected sex — 18+ only, minors do not interact

authors note | happy belated birthday to max #1 certified cat lover <3

navigation. | requests — open | main masterlist.

yourusername juno out now available to download and stream! happy birthday baby 💋🤍

tagged — maxverstappen

comments below…

user1 MAX MUSIC VIDEO DEBUT

user2 begged for a cameo from max and we got a whole ass film 🧎‍♀️

yourusername my man is too hot for only a small cameo. made sure to showcase his actor side>>>

landonorris i did NOT have to watch an 8 minute film of you and max being horny. disgusting.

yourusername the first minute of the video was horny you could have exited but you watched the whole thing. our biggest fan 🥹🫶🏼

landonorris fuck off

maxverstappen1 wanna say that again?

landonorris 🏃‍♂️💨

user3 max trying to be serious through the video but breaks into a smile anytime y/n would sing to him 😭

user4 they just broke the internet with this video

user5 never thought i would see max and y/n horny on main in 2024

user6 did you guys not listen to her latest album? girl gave us a whole ass ovulation album. GIVE HER A BABY MAX!

maxverstappen1 i’m trying

─────────────────────────

being with max for five years now you’d grown used to knowing his likes and dislikes; both in & out of bed.

especially in bed.

“have you always been this keen on having kids? even before me?” you manage to spit out while sitting on max’s lap, his lips prepping kisses all over your neck and chest.

you had just spent the day celebrating his birthday on a yacht with all of yours and max’s close friends and family so he had been extra needy arriving home since he couldn’t have his way with you all day with everyone surrounding both of you.

his lips detach from your neck looking you in the eyes full of love, “i’ll remind you any chance i get when it comes to that, you are the reason i want a family. the reason i see myself being your husband and father of our children before you i never saw that with anyone else.” max would take any chance to remind you how ready he was to be your husband and have kids with you.

“i don’t want to wait anymore. not for the wedding or the babies…i want it now.” you whisper desperately clinging onto max. his eyes widen at your statement, “now?”

“we’ll have the wedding after the baby is born. we can go to to the courthouse this week and make it official just us two. don’t you want that, maxie?” sitting on his lap grinding against his hardened cock make it even more difficult for him to say the words.

“yes…fuck yes of course, baby. i don’t want to wait any longer to have you as my wife. gonna fuck you so full of my cum tonight and make you a mommy. god i can’t wait any longer.” his hands cupping your face and pulling you into a hungry and messy kiss. both of you quickly removing your clothes off each other desperately needing to feel as close as possible.

you start getting on your knees but max pulls you back up, “as much as i want you on your knees stuffed with my cock in your mouth, i need to taste you.” his words immediately taking affect on your core.

“b-but it’s your birthday…w-w-wanna gi—.” your words stutter out, after placing you on the bed hovering over you his lips meet your neck down to your stomach before he situates himself between your thighs.

“getting to taste you is the best gift i could ever get.” your legs squeeze his head, thighs keeping him close to your pussy as he licks, laps, and sucks until you're close to the edge.

"’m so close, max, so close," you feel like you're in a trance as his fingers hook inside of you brushing your g-spot. he presses his palm into your lower tummy, applying gentle pressure as you nearly thrash under him from how intense the buildup is.

"cum for me, baby. make a mess all over my face," he growls before you feel yourself snapping as your orgasm flows through you. max rides you through the orgasm, tongue lapping at your core as your legs are left shaking.

“max…” you gasp out of breath as cleans you with his tongue, your fingers slowly caressing his hair. he

"you are so perfect, baby." he cooes, thumb resting on your lip as you part your mouth and bite down on it. you feel him stiffen under you, "ik hou van je. (i fucking love you)" he groans under his breath as you wrap your lips around his thumb.

"my fingers look so good shoved in your mouth," he purrs, hearing you whimper as he massages your pelvis. you can feel yourself growing wetter, the heaviness in your mouth feels comfortable before his lips are on yours.

"shit," he hisses, "i’m done waiting…i’ll take my time with you later.”

he doesn't give you a chance to speak before he's fisting his cock, lining up with your entrance, and pushing in "fuck, fuck," his voice is low and raspy, the feeling of him sinking into you, whispering out a various dutch words as he sinks deeper and deeper into you.

"this," he thrusts, slamming the headboard against the wall,"is what l've been fuckin' cravin. can’t wait to see you round and full." his thrusts are deep and slow before he can't hold back and he's fucking you into the mattress, loud moans and skin slapping are the only sounds filling the room.

your walls flutter around his cock and you're coming for the second time that night, "gonna have you cum a few more times, baby. keeping us up all night and make sure i get you pregnant." he snaps, bed in shambles as it creaks and squeaks before his own thrusts are growing sloppy.

"gonna fill you up," he moans, "fuck, you're gonna be so fuckin' stuffed. looking so perfect carrying our babies." his breathing is laboured, chasing his release before it hits him and he’s spilling inside you.

you stay close together for a brief moment before you both are desperate for another round, trying to rock your hips because he's still hard inside of you, "max…," you plead. "need more. please, please, please.”

he chuckles deeply at your desperation, "yeah?" he switches your positions, flipping over, lying on his back as you're straddling him and you fall into his chest because he’s impossibly deep, you were sure you’d come right there once again just from that position

you rock your hips, steadying yourself over his chest as he groans, "that's my good girl, you feel so fucking good like this. my soon to be wife. mother of our babies. i love you.” he’s lost himself in you, unable to form a coherent sentence as you lose yourself in the feeling of riding him like never before.

his sweet words and whines coming from his mouth have you quicken your movements, "you feel so good, max," you mumble, "all yours, baby. i’m all yours," he groans, digging his fingers into your skin as he meets your thrusts.

“how you doing, baby? you okay?” despite being deep inside you he slows down checking on you. he was starting to feel the exhaustion catch up to him but he was still hard as a fucking rock with your cunt clenching around him.

you nod giving him a smile, “m’ okay…getting sleepy,” you mumble out before pulling him closer to you (if that was even possible), “fill me up one more time, maxie. then we take a nap…and go again.”

despite being completely exhausted from the hours of fucking you wanted max to ensure you were pregnant by the end of the break. you were ready to become his wife and now have his babies as soon as possible.

his thrusts are deep and slow while you two conversed until your last sentence he can't hold back and he is fucking you senselessly now giving deep and rough thrusts, your moans filling the room chanting his name.

"come on, baby. cum 'round my cock, yeah…fuck," he hisses when you wrap your legs around his waist, locking him inside of you as he comes inside you once again.

catching your breaths you lay on top of him now, his cock buried inside you, “can’t believe we’ve been awake all night.” you chuckle against his chest while his hand plays with your hair.

“i have a month of uninterrupted free time with you and i’m gonna take advantage of that.” max kisses your head and you close your eyes getting comfortable in his arms.

“remember when we first met?” you ask him, knowing he’d go on a yap session about it. he would talk about it to anyone who asked and you loved him so much for knowing the small things just from the first moment you met.

“do i remember? how could i forget when you assumed i was a mechanic instead of the driver? oh and your perfect smile—.”

2018

meeting at the united states gp in austin the year of 2018 you were just 19 years old on your first world tour of your singing career. you had a concert on the first day of the race weekend so you met a few of the drivers and you tried your best to remember their names but there was so many.

max had been watching your performance with a huge smile on his face, he was in a meeting causing him to miss the introductions most of the drivers had with you. but here he was waiting for you at the side of the stage to introduce himself. he had grown to be a fan the last few months and when he found out you’d be performing at the austin gp he was counting down the days.

“hi i’m max…i’m with redbull—.”

you had gotten off stage ecstatic with the crowd cheering you on to be meet with a slightly taller guy dressed in some jeans and a white jacket paired with a redbull hat. the redbull hat made you assume he was a mechanic for the team so you cut him off, “oh nice to meet you! i’m y/n, how is it like working on the cars for redbull? you’re a mechanic right?”

max was confused at the question many things did not make sense when you asked but he assumed you didn’t know much of the sport (which was very true). he decided to go alone with it appreciating the chance to speak with you just for a few minutes before you were pulled away again for some interviews.

few weeks later he got your number from lewis who had been a mentor in your life for awhile now being in the limelight at a young age he took you under his wing. after checking with you first he gave max your number sending you a text and getting his full name you search him up on instagram realizing he wasn’t a mechanic but a goddamn driver for redbull racing.

lewis couldn’t help but laugh at your cluelessness when it came to the sport only sending him messages if he won not caring for any other drivers; until now.

after many apologies through the phone and max waving it off as something to laugh about. you grew a close friendship with him for the next year waiting patiently for him to ask you out.

PRESENT

“i had to wait a year before i got the balls to ask you out and then—oh.” he chuckles stopping mid sentence looking down at you realizing you had fallen asleep. he gives your head a kiss and falls into some much needed sleep alongside you.

you had woken up a few minutes ago with your back against max’s chest settling between his thighs. he had been playing with you hair until his hands started wandering down your body, “max…” you sigh contently feeling his finger play with your clit.

when two fingers slip through your folds, an obscene moan runs through you before they're filling you up. "that's my good girl, look at how well you're taking my fingers," he cooes, fingers curled deep inside you.

"that feels good, doesn't it, baby?" he taunts, you nodded your head, eager to feel his fingers moving some more as you rocked your hips in sync.

the pressure building up made you squirm, max was edging you and now you were nearly in tears, “oh…oh god,” whispering as you beg him to let you cum.

"that's it, my pretty girl," he hummed, “love hearing your moans, love feeling you cum, baby. squeezing my fingers with your tight pussy. gonna have your pussy squeezing my cock after this.”

"fuck," max groans, your orgasm gushes out of you; soaking his hand and bed sheets. you pant trying to catch your breath, "think we need to get ready for the day...we can't stay in bed forever. i wanna take you to a cat cafe--."

"just one more for me, schatje, one more and then we go to all the cat cafes we want," he smiles sweetly, kissing your neck finding your sweet spot and getting a moan out of you. how could you deny him?

pulling you in for a passionate kiss he flips you around and looks you in the eyes filled with lust, "wanna try another position?" he mumbles against your lips and you nod, not having to tell him the one you wanna try because he knows it's your favorite.

with your face pressed into the bedsheets and ass up in the air he gives you a soft slap before sliding his cock deep inside your aching cunt, "fucking christ...shit," he groans with each deep thrust your walls squeeze him.

"not gonna last, max..." you whine, your hands grip the sheets as he gives you a rough slap on your ass, "me neither, baby. you gonna cum with me? come on, schat. gonna fill your tight pussy with my cum and make you mine forever." his thrusts growing faster and sloppier, but his words have you pushing back against him meeting his hips.

"yes, yes, yes...wanna have your baby please fill me up, maxie," he pushes you up against his chest his hand wrapping around your throat squeezing it lightly. it was more than enough for you to ride out yet another orgasm, "that's it, baby. make a mess all over my cock." he groans feeling your walls flutter around him, with a few more thrusts his cum fills you up.

your heavy pants fill the room, feeling him pull out of you after a few minutes making sure each drop of his cum filled you up he flips you over laying you down and grabbing a warm towel to clean you up, "doing okay, my darling?" he smiles down at your loopy grin.

"so good. i love you." you tell him once he finishes cleaning you up and settling in bed for a few minutes before you go and shower. "i love you more. best birthday ever." max tells you, and he meant it being the best birthday especially if you do end up pregnant.

you run your fingers along his jaw, "think you made me juno yet?" you smile sheepishly at him and you both break out into a fit of laughter, "well if that didn't, we'll just have to keep on going until you are."

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

prompt: 1800s price/reader…. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl (part 6) part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

-

And they say if it sways, you have to cut it off at the root.

You repeat that to yourself when you catch the way you glance out the kitchen window again, surreptitiously watching John. It’s hard to pull your eyes away. He walks over to the well to fetch water for you to do the dishes, the chore you’d elected to take when he offered you the choice between that and feeding the horses. It’s a fair compromise since you balk at the thought of getting anywhere near either of those beasts. 

Watching him bend over the well to lower the bucket down, his muscled shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and suspenders drawing tight against his back, makes you bite your lip. Then scowl. Then pull the curtain shut to block out the view.

You have to cut any gentleness off at the root. 

When he comes back, you step to the side without a word to let him pour the water into the wash basin, hot water from the teakettle and lye soap making the water already in the pan sudsy. In a sense, it’s not any different from anything you’ve done back home; the same two pans for washing and scalding, the same cake of soap, and the same dish towel to dry the dishes off at the end. The only difference is the man that pours the cool water into the basin to make it more comfortable for your hands. 

“I’ll be out back,” he tells you, before grabbing you around the waist and pulling you in close to press a close-mouthed kiss to the side of your head. You only scrunch your nose a little. “When you’re done, come get me. Got business in town.”

“Why do you need me to come with you?” you ask, lips cresting into a pout without a thought. You’d never considered yourself a bellyacher, but it’s almost second nature around John. “I can…I can stay and clean the house.”

“You saying I keep a messy home?” John asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.

You look pointedly down at the dirt he tracked into the kitchen after fetching the bucket of water from the well. “It could do with a spit shine.” 

That gets a laugh out of him, a bellow from deep in his belly. It shakes you to your bones. 

“Darling, I’ll be honest with you,” he says, turning you to face him before folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t trust you not to bolt like a runaway horse, and you’ll only wind up putting yourself in danger if you try to make a run for it out here.”

That expression makes your stomach twist. “Good to know you think of your wife as some scared filly.” 

“You talk a whole lot for a woman who’s been over my knee. Do we need to repeat that?”

When his tone goes stern, you lose the wedging piece of candor keeping you upright. Eyes widen and then narrow. He’s been patient despite your loose tongue, but when that patience slips, you can see the steel underneath his gentle exterior. It’s the true root of him. 

You clam up under his stare, sullen and begrudging. Smooth your dress down to have something to do with your hands. You’ve forgotten your place again. Side-stepped it out of intimacy or misplaced trust or naivety or forgetting, again, for the umpteenth time, that the world is not a place for women that open their mouths. So you keep it shut, trap every festering word behind your teeth. 

He must not like something he sees painted on your face because his brows draw closer together, frustration brewing anew in his eyes. The longer you stay quiet, the more irritated he grows, his nostrils flaring wide. 

“See that you come get me as soon as everything’s squared away in here,” John bites out, pointing a single, blunt finger at you. “Else I’ll come get you myself.”

And we wouldn’t want that, you think, surly. You hope it swims across your eyes. Blooms on your face. Perhaps it does. 

The lines around his mouth and eyes grow more defined when he smiles. His whole mustache moves with his smile, every part of his face expressing his satisfaction. It’s beyond infuriating. He taps you on the nose with his knuckle before leaving out the backdoor, not sparing you a backward glance. You nearly shake with indignation. 

It’s hard not to watch him out in the paddock while drying the dishes though, not with him set against the gilded sun. You inch the curtain slightly open, just enough of a gap to peer through. The Stetson shadows his face when he tilts his head up towards the sky, the hard edge of his jaw the only thing that meets your gaze. It’s not the first time you’ve seen a man out in the fields or pastures, but most of those have been at a distance, removed. Glimpsed briefly through the window while your train barreled on past acres of farmland. 

John cycles through the morning tasks of guiding the horses into the paddock by a lead fixed to their halter, replenishing the food trough, and fetching more water from the well to fill the water trough. His horses are striking in the sheer size of them; muscled shoulders and legs, and well-padded flanks. Most of the horses you’ve seen out west haven’t seemed nearly as well-fed, many whittled down to rib and hip bone. 

It says something about him, but you’re not ready to confront exactly what. You turn your attention back to the dishes, scrubbing the last of the dried butter and eggs at the bottom of the pan. It takes a little extra grit, but cleaning is a familiar chore—it’s one you’ve done all your life, what got you into this mess in the first place. 

You don’t like what you find when you finally venture out of the house to track him down. 

“I’m not getting on that thing.” 

You put your veritable foot down with that, arms straight and stiff by your sides, more out of worry than annoyance. You do also give a little stomp for good measure, but you’ll chalk that up to reflexes should John inquire. 

He doesn’t. Just stares down at you with unimpressed green eyes that haunt your days and nights now. Tells you without telling you that you’ll get on that horse, willing or not. 

It’s not for a lack of beauty that you can’t quite shake the nervousness they elicit in you. Buttercup, the one that John saddled up and now waits patiently to be mounted, keeps her head low as if sensing your disquiet, curiosity glimmering in her coal black eyes. Not even the animal curiosity of is this a friend or foe, but the curiosity that comes with pure trust, almost intelligible that way. 

John runs his hand down her smooth, buttery flank. “Did you enjoy yesterday’s walk?”

“I didn’t hate it.” Truth be told, you’d hardly been of a mind to notice it at all. Though your legs still ache from the walk back to John’s house, the walk itself had not seemed especially grueling in the moment. The mind can put aside quite a bit when it has something else to focus on. 

“Well, I’m not too keen to repeat it.” He leaves it at that, tightening a strap on Buttercup’s saddle in such a purposeful way that your shoulders tense. 

“I could meet you there,” you say, a touch desperately. Your stomach turns when you think about hoisting yourself up onto Buttercup’s saddle. It doesn’t seem possible. It’s not something you’ve ever done or ever considered doing. You remember horror stories of stableboys back home trampled under their hooves and stomped to death, kicks so powerful that they could break a fully grown man’s ribs or cave in his face. 

“My wife isn’t gonna wander into town by her lonesome like some vagrant,” John says disdainfully, almost scoffing. Insulted by the whole idea. “And you’re sure as hell not staying here alone, darlin’.”

“Well, figure something else out because I am not getting up on that thin—” You cut off on a yelp when he circles around you and abruptly lifts you up. Your head rushes at the sudden motion, legs flailing beneath you. 

“Quit squirmin’ like a damn barn cat. Little hellion,” John grits out, guiding your heel into the stirrup. “C’mon, you’re just side saddling, so you only need your butt on the saddle.” When he sets you down lightly onto the saddle, you stop wiggling around, acutely aware of the thousand pound horse beneath you. “There we go—that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” 

“I hate this,” you hiss, fingers clamped tight over the pommel. 

“Aw, darlin’, don’t go insulting Buttercup like that,” John chuckles, replacing your foot in the stirrup with his own.

You sit there stiff as a board, perched precariously on the saddle as he hoists himself up behind you. His sheer proximity doesn’t register right away. You’re too concerned with the moving beast under you, its ribs expanding and contracting with each breath. Unlike you, John is more than comfortable sitting astride the horse, not a smidgeon of tension in his body. You suck in a horrified breath when you feel him readjust himself before settling down more comfortably. 

He reaches around you to grab the reins, a sharp whistle signaling the horse to take her first stride forward, looping around the side of the house. Even the slow trot threatens to buck you off at first. You lurch forward with each step, certain that you’ll slip right off the saddle and onto the dusty ground below until John loops an arm around your waist and pulls you to his chest.

You grow stiffer in his arms somehow. Despite sleeping in the same bed the night before and sharing far too many kisses for your comfort or virtue, being pressed up tight against a man never gets easier. Perhaps if you’d been married for longer than a single day you’d be more at ease with the notion, but as of yet, it comes as a shock to the senses every time. 

You carefully avoid the thought that other married women wouldn’t be still in possession of their maidenhead so many hours after their wedding night. That’s none of your business.

The two of you navigate into town at a slow canter, allowing you to gradually acclimatize to the gait of a horse. Part of you remembers riding horses when you were younger, but that was a lifetime ago, long enough to shake the memory from your muscles. These days, you can barely remember the hands holding you steady, the ones that would’ve lifted you up onto the horse and helped you back down. Those people are faceless in your memories. 

John stays silent at your back, only tightening his hand around your hip when you slip the slightest bit when Buttercup picks up the pace, heading towards the familiar sight of the sheriff’s office. It draws a quick squawk out of you, neatly masked by a fake cough. His chuckle at that rumbles through you, clearly not buying it. Another lesson in humiliation. 

You manage not to flail as much when he gets off the horse and helps you down, even though you’re still not used to being manhandled so, particularly not in front of the townsfolk milling about and glancing over with undisguised interest. 

“Are you working today?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you while John ties Buttercup’s lead to the post outside the sheriff’s office. 

“Don’t exactly get many days off when you’re the only sheriff in the county,” John replies. “We’ve got a few deputies in every town, and a couple here, but it ain’t an easy gig.”

“How many deputies have you got here?” 

“Just the three. Simon, John, and Kyle. You met Simon the other day.” 

His name draws up the faint memory of the masked deputy from your wedding ceremony. “I remember,” you say flatly. There’s no lost love between you and anyone involved with that sham of a wedding. 

“Don’t hold that against him,” John smiles. “He’s a good ole boy. Can’t fault a man for following the boss’ orders.”

Watch me. You glance away lest he see that thought etched across your face. 

The town is bustling with activity this late in the morning. Steps and floorboards creak under the weight of boots coming and going. A man going by in a horse-and-buggy whistles sharply when he cracks the reins, his horse puffing out a low, frustrated grunt. 

Men hustle past you decked out in leather chaps and waistcoats, spats covering the half-boots of those not decked out in tall, spurred cowboy boots. There are far less women scampering about town than men, particularly not so close to the sheriff’s office, but you keep finding your eyes drawn to them. 

John grips you under the arm and swiftly pulls you back when you narrowly sidestep a mound of horse droppings left uncovered in the middle of the road. The smell only hits you a second later. 

“Well, that’s lovely,” you remark, deadpanned, putting your foot down deliberately a good distance away. 

“Wouldn’t need to complain about it if you just watched your step.”

“You know, this really would’ve been a nice day to just stay home,” you mutter, chastised enough not to say something sharp in return. 

While the smell makes your nose wrinkle, you have to admit that the air here is far less pungent than back home. In general, this bucolic town is far more pleasant in certain respects than the city you’d left behind in a haste. 

“Where do you want me to wait for you?” you ask, turning to face him now at the front steps of the sheriff’s office.

He frowns. “Wait for me?”

“While you work, I mean. Surely you don’t mean for me to sit inside all day twiddling my thumbs while you work.”

His mustache twitches with a smile. “Thought I’d show you around first—get you acquainted with the locals.”

The idea of mingling with the townsfolk doesn’t appeal to you, but you also can’t think of a good enough reason to refuse. Especially with the curious glances already being sent your way. You duck your head to stare down at your boots when you spot a group of other women clustered together and whispering to each other, their eyes trained on you. Somehow you’ve gone from being furniture in a room to being a source of local gossip, and it’s almost hard to believe that you miss being ignored. 

When you look back up at John, you find him still staring down at you, waiting patiently. Up close, the sunlight almost turns patches of his beard gold; he has a smattering of moles across his face, not the blush of freckles but rather a few dark spots by his nose. Aside from the tuft of hair under his bottom lip, his chin is mostly bare, and when he smiles, his whole face moves with it. You have to blink to snap yourself out of it. 

Your upper lip curls involuntarily when you say, “So you want to help me make friends?” 

“Well, seeing as I know most of ‘em, figured I’d be a help.”

“The job’s really not all that busy then, huh?” You really wish you could learn to shut your mouth, since it keeps getting you in trouble, but the barbs roll off your tongue so naturally. Luckily, it seems to amuse him now more than it did early this morning. 

“Guess life isn’t as exciting ‘round here as it is back in the city, but it has its days,” John chuckles. “Now come on; I’ll give you the tour.”

For some reason, you hadn’t pictured the town being quite so big, but during your walk, you realize you’ve vastly underestimated the true size of it. Though not anywhere near as ostentatious as the cities back east, the sheer breadth of it eclipses anything from back home. It’s spread out on an incomparable scale, the mountains in the background stretching out along the horizon like the skeletal remains of a giant long since dead and decayed.  

It’s not the ramshackle town you envisioned when you stepped off the train the other day, despite the wooden facades and their brightly painted signs. You almost wish you had more time just to admire the craftsmanship, but John leads you from store to store like he’s on a mission.

He seems most interested in towing you around like some prized mare, all trussed up and clean from your bath the night before. You meet so many people that their names and faces all begin to blur together. The worst offense of all is that it makes you lean on John for support, looking up at him again and again for reassurance whenever you can’t answer a question or your answer triggers a moment of awkward silence. 

Those moments come aplenty too. The few people nosey enough to ask you about your life back in the city find themselves on the butt end of a cheerfully delivered lie from John. It unnerves you at first, seeing how comfortable he is with lying. He doesn’t even hesitate for a second when recounting your previous life as a schoolteacher in Connecticut prior to your engagement.

Perhaps it’s not a lie though. You don’t know the extent to which he and his original betrothed corresponded. Certainly not enough for him to suspect you of not being her, but maybe she’d spun him that story. Or maybe it had been the truth. All this time you’d thought that John had been swindled by some con artist using desperate men to fund her lifestyle, but maybe somewhere between here and Connecticut, there’s an unmarked grave with the corpse of the woman that John had intended to marry. 

That makes you feel guilty somehow, like you’ve taken something not meant for you. Even if you hadn’t wanted it—in fact, been forced into taking it. 

You swallow that thought when John leads you into the general store. Your eyes bug at the sight of a blonde haired woman in khaki cloth knickerbockers stocking the shelves, who turns at the sound of the door creaking open, the sharp look on her face melting away at the sight of John.

The warmth in her face infuriates you more than it should. You have no right to feel this way—or, some right, but you resent the fact that you do as well. 

“Hi John,” she greets. Her voice is deeper than you anticipated, springtime crisp like a babbling brook. 

“Laswell,” John greets, scooping his arm around your side until he can palm the side of your hip, dragging you in close. You stumble into him, catching yourself with a hand on his chest. Your neck and face go hot when Laswell’s eyes turn on you, curiosity glinting in them. 

“Your lady finally showed up then,” she surmises. “I’ll be honest, I was starting to think you made her up. Told the boys to think about forcing you into an early retirement.”

John huffs at that. His fingers tighten at your waist when Laswell says your lady, as if the words alone make it fact. Speak it into being. The metal burns against your ring finger. In a sense, it is fact, despite the subterfuge. You wonder if it would hold up in court, but out here, it’s real enough. 

“Well, she’s very real, as you can tell.” He gives you a little shake with the hand on your waist. “Say hi, darlin’.”

If looks could kill, yours would be pit-viper venom. You’d leave behind a festering puncture mark and a body in the throes of envenomation. “Excuse me?”

Your attitude might come at a cost this time because he looks unamused at your back talk in front of an audience. “Darlin’.” It’s said like a warning. 

You bite your tongue instead of lashing out. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Kate Laswell; I own this little shop,” she says, introducing herself and stepping forward to hold out her hand. You have to step forward to take it, pulling you out of John’s arms. It feels familiar being on your own, certainly more natural than being constantly at John’s side the way you have for almost two days now. It’s also a bit cold after having John’s warmth at your back or side at all times. 

There’s a moment when you realize that Kate is the first person you’ve had to introduce yourself to, John having introduced you to everyone else you’d come across. It hovers on the tip of your tongue when you realize that you could just say your real name, and you find yourself torn between setting it free and the odd fear of John’s reaction. 

You chicken out at the last second, giving Kate the same name as the one John introduced you by to everyone else in town. 

“He might growl like a bear, but you’ll get used to that,” she says, winking.

You frown. Awfully familiar talk for someone who isn’t his wife. Why should she know that? 

You make yourself push that thought away, reminding yourself again that it doesn’t matter. It’s none of your concern. 

“He’s been a gentleman,” you croak instead, smile so thin that it might as well be a grimace. 

A shout from the bar across the street startles you, drawing your attention away from the conversation. John stills too. A series of raised voices puts him on alert, and then someone inside the bar must fire a gun because the violent crack of one makes you scream, the noise pulled involuntarily from your chest. 

“Stay here,” John growls, his pistol already drawn. He’s out the door before you can respond, darting across the street towards the bar and shouldering the door open so hard that it rattles in its frame. You watch everything happen through the window of the general store with your heart in your throat. 

“Good Lord,” you whisper, hand over your mouth. Kate stands beside you in a similar manner, her eyebrows pinched in concern. 

The thought doesn’t even occur to you that now would be the perfect time to make a break for it, with John busy across the street. Your feet are rooted in place; you doubt you’d be able to take so much as a single step towards the door. 

There’s precious little that you can see through the grit-lined bar windows, not as dusty and dirty as they are, but you can hear the commotion from inside. Raised voices and the sound of breaking glass. It makes you flinch, heart galloping at an even faster pace. Like harness horses on the Freehold Raceway. It’s not long before you see a large, masked man hightailing it down the road towards the bar, dust clouding around his boots with each heavy step. 

You recognize him almost instantly as the man from your wedding, the one that signed your marriage license. John’s man—Simon. He nearly takes the bar door off its hinges when he throws it open, barely in there a second before he and John come out each with a man in hand, both already handcuffed and looking roughed up They drag them stumbling down the dirt road towards the sheriff’s office, Simon half-dragging another man whose white button-down is slowly saturating with red blood oozing out of a gunshot wound in his belly.

“Shouldn’t they call a doctor for that man?” you ask Kate in a frantic voice, whipping around to face her. 

She nods. “They probably will once they’ve got the four of them locked up. Doctor probably heard that anyway—he’ll be on his way, I bet.”

“On his way already?”

“There’s only one doctor around here. And not much else sounds like a gunshot.”

“Does that happen a lot around here?” You don’t know why the thought makes you nervous, but there’s a cramp in your belly and a sweat building up on the back of your neck and your hands itch to grab something. When you swallow, it almost doesn’t go down. 

“It’s not uncommon. I reckon it’s not something you’re used to?”

You purse your lips. “I’ve seen a dead body before.” You don’t know why that comes out so defensively, like a slight that’s been levied against you. There’s no easy way to dispel the myth in everyone’s mind that you come from a life of comfort and ease, with delicate hands fit for delicate work. You curl your hands into fists at the thought, conscious of the old scars and calluses built up over years of scrubbing and cleaning. If she were to look down, she wouldn’t see the well-kept hands of a lady. 

When Kate quirks an eyebrow, you realize that your response had nothing to do with her question. “Well, look at you.”

When John and Simon disappear into the jailhouse, the door swinging shut behind them, you sway on your feet for a second, feeling oddly unbalanced. Something about the sight of the man’s blood leaves you feeling woozy, taking the chair that Kate offers you when she sees the way you rock back on your heels. 

“Let me get you something to drink,” Kate offers, brows now furrowed sympathetically at the pathetic sight you must be. “I’m sure you got a little fright thinking of your husband facing down a man with a gun, but I’m afraid that comes with marrying a sheriff. There’s danger everywhere, you know.”

What you don’t say is that your lightheadedness came not just from the sight of the man with the blood leaking from a wound in his stomach, but the grim look on your husband’s face as he carted away the man responsible, eyes hard as steel. No sympathy for the man in his hands. Only another criminal to be tossed away in a jail cell. The punishment for making another man bleed.

Your hands shake in your lap, but you don’t say that. Instead, you smile weakly and take the glass of water from her hands when she comes back from filling it at the sink. “You’re right. Just a little fright.”

[domjaehyun]

there's a stranger in my house (l.jn)

PAIRING. lee jeno x fem!reader 

GENRE. thriller, smut

CONTENTS. major character death, seriously dubious consent that turns noncon (please believe me when i say this), spitting, unprotected sex, fear play, oral (fem receiving), anal play, degradation, praise, biting, marking, ass smacking, mirror sex, non-consensual filming, choking, hair pulling (receiving), manhandling/strength kink, some role play 

WORD COUNT. 3.8k

SUMMARY. something’s not quite right about jeno, and you’re not sure what it is.

PLAYLIST. stranger in my house - tamia

NOTES.  hiii well. i can’t explain myself. important context is the movie “us” by jordan peele but if you haven’t seen it, i try to explain without explaining. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. happy birthday to my dear dear dear friend @renjunfocus!! i hope you all like it and don’t come tell me if you didn’t 💖 but if you enjoyed it, by all means let me know! 

“Jeno, please be safe tonight.” you say worriedly as he adjusts his costume in the mirror. “Halloween is scary; people are always doing something fucked up.”

“I’ll be as safe as possible, baby.” Jeno assures you, turning to face you with that crescent-eyed smile you love. “Plus, I’m literally dressed as a cop; they might think it’s real.” 

“True,” you hum, nibbling your bottom lip worriedly as you take in his appearance. “You look really… really good, Jeno.”

“Oh, yeah? Can I get a kiss for looking this good?” he asks hopefully, and you smile, leaning in to kiss him sweetly on the lips, Jeno chasing after you as you pull back.

“There’s more where that came from when you get back home.” you promise, and he gives you a cute frown before straightening back up and smoothing out his costume one last time.

He pulls you into a hug as he always does before he leaves and when he comes back, and you breathe in deeply, his comforting scent of peppermint body wash, a soft musk, and baby powder enveloping you.

He presses a kiss to the side of your head and slowly retracts from you, a hint of reluctance in his movements.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” he bids you goodbye, blowing you a kiss before exiting your bedroom and, you deduce when the front door shuts, your apartment.

You decide to get cozy in bed and wait for him to come home while you read a book you’ve been neglecting recently, but it’s only about thirty pages in before your eyelids start to droop and you find yourself curling up under your covers and drifting off to sleep.

When you wake up, it’s with a start, sitting straight up in bed when you hear the front door shut roughly. You wait for Jeno to make his way into your room, surprise and confusion filling you when he appears and—

“You changed your costume.” you point out, and he looks down at it as if he’s forgotten.

“Some girl spilled her drink on me at the party, so Jaemin loaned me his spare costume.” Jeno answers with a shrug, and you nod.

“It’s hot,” you admit with a grin. 

He chuckles as he draws closer to you. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod encouragingly. “The robber thing is kind of a 180 from the police officer, but it’s really hot… kinda makes me a little flustered.”

“Oh, really?” he teases, and you nod again, slower this time. 

“The ski mask is a good touch; kinda scary, too.” you compliment, and his gaze darkens as he looks down at you.

“Are you scared, then, baby?” he questions, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Hm? The big, scary robber’s making you nervous?”

“Oh, yes, mister robber, sir, please! You can take all my money, just please don’t hurt me!” you plead, clasping your hands together and blinking up at him through your lashes.

“It’s not money I want, sweet girl,” Jeno growls through his ski mask, his voice muffled but still so convincing and deeply unsettling that you feel apprehension creeping up on the back of your neck. “Sit on the windowsill,” he grunts, jerking his chin towards the bay window beside your bed, and you climb to your feet, obediently moving to sit at the edge of the windowsill. The seat is cold on the backs of your thighs, making you wince slightly, and you find yourself drawing back in fear as Jeno stalks towards you and stands before you, practically looming menacingly over you.

He slams his hands down on either side of you loudly and suddenly, making you yelp in panic. “Relax,” he purrs, lowering himself so he’s eye level with you. “So pretty,” he rasps, tilting his head to the side as he watches you, but the compliment fails to warm your cheeks the way it usually does, because this time, it sounds… foreign and unfamiliar to you. It’s a type of observation Jeno’s never demonstrated before, your loving boyfriend usually eyeing you with adoration, love, or fondness in his eyes. Tonight, it’s different. It’s almost… sadistic in its fascination, as if the flashes of fear behind your eyes are fueling him somewhat.

You’re so focused on decoding the entirely unsettling look Jeno’s giving you that you don’t notice one of his hands sneaking up behind your back until his fingers are looping in the locks at the base of your neck and tugging your head back roughly. His eyes darken at the flash of panic and pain across your face before he’s ripping the ski mask off and practically smashing his mouth against yours, kissing you more ferociously than he ever has before. He’s all sharp teeth and forceful tongue, the wet, thick muscle bullying its way into your mouth as you whimper for mercy. His tongue swirls around the inside of your mouth possessively, coating every last bit of it with his saliva like he’s marking his territory.

He pulls back slightly before spitting directly into your mouth just as you go to gasp for air. You promptly choke on his saliva, coughing and spluttering pathetically as tears spring to your eyes. You’ve barely recovered before Jeno stuffs two fingers into your mouth, parting them in a V so your lips are stretched horizontally, and he wags his tongue lewdly in the open space of your parted lips, licking against your tongue with long strokes punctuated by guttural grunts of delight. 

He spits once more, a long drop of saliva landing on your tongue, and you whimper in protest, shaking your head in refusal.

He cups your chin in his hand with a firm, almost too tight grip, staring you down challengingly. “Swallow it. Take my spit in your mouth like the good little slut you are.” 

You blink back tears of confusion and hurt as you do just that, swallowing his spit, and he smiles, pleased as he pats your cheek roughly.

“Good.” he grunts, releasing you and knocking your legs apart with two quick slaps to your inner thighs. He drops to his knees between your thighs and yanks the straps of your satin nightie off your shoulders, tugging the fabric down to reveal your bare breasts. He pinches at one nipple, twisting until you squirm away from his touch. He latches onto your neck, biting roughly and sucking harshly and working his way downward until marks are blooming all over your sensitive, buzzing skin.

When he gets to your breast, he looks up at you, studying your reaction when he sucks as much of your breast into his mouth as he can fit. You hiss in surprise and move to push him back slightly, finding yourself overwhelmed by the intense sensations, but he snatches your hands out of the way, linking them together in his larger one before trapping your hands between your legs. He sucks on your nipples roughly, rapidly flicking his tongue over the buds and even nipping at them every once in a while, and you can’t tell if you want to moan or cry.

After what feels like ages of inner turmoil, he releases your breasts from his greedy clutches, your nipple slipping from his lips with a loud, wet, pop sound. He leaves a trail of bite marks down from the underside of your breast to your stomach, where he sinks his teeth into your flesh so roughly that you fear he’s aiming to draw blood. He pulls back when there’s a clear indentation of his teeth on you, marks that are sure to bruise, and spreads your legs as wide as they’ll go. 

“Been dying to taste this pussy,” he grunts under his breath, and you swallow thickly, watching him warily as he drags his tongue up your folds forcefully. Spreading your folds apart with two fingers, he prods the thick tip of his tongue against your entrance. You gasp in surprise when he slithers his tongue into you, the muscle fat and long as he moves it around along your inner walls. “Delicious,” he groans, dragging his tongue over your hole and relishing the way your hips jolt.

When two thick fingers push into you without warning, a weak moan falls from your lips at the surprise of the stretch. Jeno grins cockily, and it hits you what’s different: there’s a hollowness to his every emotion, like there’s a lack of… humanity to it.

Something about him is off; he's not acting like the man that loves you. He's touching you with the desperation of a man that's never had you before. He even smells different; like smoke, ash even, and something metallic and dark. What clues you in the most that this is not your boyfriend is that his signature scent, his personal blend of musk, is nowhere to be found. This man smells tangy, sharp, and strong, a heady blend but most importantly enough, not your boyfriend's blend.

This man is not Jeno.

“Um,” you pipe up tentatively, and he takes a minor break from licking at your core to look up at you with a raised eyebrow. “Who are you?”

With your question, the energy in the room shifts completely; a smile nothing short of sinister appears on his lips, and there’s a wicked glint in his eye that has you clutching at the windowsill.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, and there’s an attempt at tenderness, but it all feels so deceptive, like he’s pantomiming an emotion he’s never experienced. “You don’t recognize me?”

“No,” you say breathlessly. “You’re not Jeno.”

“Smart girl,” he replies before lowering his head to return to eating you out. When you start to close your legs from fear and panic, he growls threateningly, the sound guttural and unnatural, and moves faster than you could’ve thought possible. He pushes the bay window open behind you, the bottom of the window swinging out, and forces you back and down until your torso dangles precariously from your tenth floor apartment unit.

“If you make any wrong moves, I will drop you.” he threatens, and you whimper in terror, the wind chilling your cheeks and rushing through your hair as you dangle, contorted partially upside down, at the mercy of this man who looks just like your boyfriend yet behaves like anything but. “Unless you’ve always wanted to paint the concrete with brain matter, I’d stay still.”

You nod vigorously in understanding, letting your trembling thighs fall apart once more, and he hums appreciatively.

“Like I said,” he remarks as he attaches his lips to your clit, “smart girl.” He sucks roughly at your sensitive bud with lewd moans and wet smacking noises and if he can hear your sniffles and whimpers of fear, he doesn’t comment.

The hand not keeping you in your life-threatening position strokes against your folds, parting them and pushing two fingers back into you, starting to pump them in and out.

“I’ve been waiting for this for too long.” he mumbles against your folds before proceeding to sloppily make out with your core, tongue slurping and licking at every drop of arousal that drips out of your poor hole. “Waited in the shadows, listening to that bastard fuck you every night—”

“Every night?” you gasp, and he chuckles darkly.

“I’ve been watching you both for some time now.” he informs you, fingers moving in and out of you while he speaks as if it’s the most casual conversation in the world. “He was a real fucking soft guy, huh?” 

“Was?!” you squeak in alarm, and he laughs loudly, fingers speeding up cruelly and hooking into your g-spot, making it abundantly clear to you that you’re about to cum, whether you like it or not.

“Oh, he’s not coming back, baby,” he says with an audible grin, malice laced in the pet name he so evilly threw back in your face. “Unless anyone at that Halloween party can perform open heart surgery.”

“Oh, my God,” you whimper, and you’re not sure if it’s from abject horror or your rapidly approaching climax. The unmistakable sounds of his fingers squelching in your arousal fills the inside of the room, loud enough for you to hear it from your precarious pose halfway outside. “Please, you have to stop, I don’t want to cum—”

“Do you think I give a fuck what you want?” he spits back at you, and you flinch at the venom in his voice. “All my life, we’ve been forced to mimic you all up here like puppets while you get to do whatever the fuck you want. Now it’s time to do what I want, and I? I want you to cum all over my fingers and my tongue.”

“Please—” you whisper, and he shushes you, the sound adjacent to something close to loving, but lacking any real sympathy; he must have heard Jeno soothing you at some point and mimicked the sound to the best of his abilities. 

“Cum, baby,” he urges, fingers pistoning in and out of you rapidly before he curls and fucks them directly into your g-spot and brings you to a powerful climax that you wish you could explain away to your guilty conscience. His lips wrapped around your clit, he sucks hard and flicks his tongue over the sensitive bud as you ride out your high against his face. 

When you’ve recovered somewhat, he looks up at you with a wicked grin, lips still glistening with your arousal. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he taunts with a sly grin, and you just sniffle forlornly in response. “Get up, baby—wanna feel that pussy around my cock next.” He pulls you up unceremoniously, shutting the window behind you and guiding you to the bed. He plops you down on the mattress and hovers over you, encroaching on your space bit by bit until you’re lying with your back on the bed and your legs are reluctantly spread to welcome him in. “You scared?”

“Yes,” you whimper, and he pouts at you, not a hint of sympathy in his expression. 

“Good.” he chuckles darkly before lining his thick tip—thicker than Jeno’s—up with your entrance and pushing into you with one fluid motion. You grab roughly at the sheets at the intrusion, gasping out loudly, and he seals his mouth over yours to silence your cry of surprise, tongue pushing into your mouth and licking into it filthily. “Relax, you’re never gonna take it well if you don’t relax.”

How the hell am I meant to relax when you killed my boyfriend and are in my home about to do Lord knows what to me? You think, but you refrain from mouthing off just yet.

He pushes down on your lower abdomen, groaning in delight as he feels the bulge of his length dragging along your inner walls, and you let out a choked-off squeak as he stretches you to your limits and fills you impossibly deep. 

“That’s it, pretty little thing, feel me nice and deep right here,” he growls, starting to move his hips faster to fuck into you at a gradually building pace. His hand slides up your stomach to twist your nipple before continuing up to cup your chin and turn your face towards the mirror by the door. You shake your head vigorously, not wanting to see yourself like this, but he holds fast, practically smushing your cheek into the comforter. “I want you to watch as I ruin you.” he urges, and you whimper in protest. 

Your face looks nothing short of fucked out, and he’s just gotten started; your eyes glassy with unshed tears, a few tear streaks sliding down your cheeks, and your jaw feels permanently dropped open as he fucks into you at a brutal pace. His sinewy arms hold you in place as he bullies his cock into your tight hole and his abdomen tenses with every thrust, tight muscle tensing and flexing in a regrettably attractive way.

He reaches in his pocket and takes out his phone, holding it up and aiming it at you. “Smile, baby; you’re on camera.” You reach to cover your face and chest immediately, crying out in protest when he snatches your hands away. “Don’t tell me you’re camera-shy,” he taunts cruelly. “That loser never filmed you two fucking?” 

“No,” you say pleadingly, and he tuts in disapproval.

“Sight as pretty as this can’t go to waste.” he decides, moving the phone closer to your face. Fresh tears spill forth, and he licks his lips slowly, watching one tear in particular drip down your cheek before leaning down and licking a fat, wet stripe up your cheek where the tear track was. “God, and now you’re crying—it’s like you’re trying to make me cum.”

“No, I’m not, please, I’m not—” you beg, and he shushes you impatiently, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Yes, baby, you’re gonna make me cum nice and deep in this tight little pussy—gonna fuck you full of my cum—” he grunts, and you squirm under his hold desperately, fighting to get free. “That’s it, struggle a little bit for me—so fucking hot,” he mutters before bringing his forearm to your throat to press down harshly, constricting your airway. “Not too much, now—don’t want you getting away from me.”

“Please—” you croak out, struggling to breathe. “Can’t—breathe—”

His smile only widens and two things dawn on you: one, he could very well kill you right now, and two, there’s no way in hell you’re going down without a fight.

You reach up and claw at his forearm, scratching as hard and as deep as you can, and to your alarm, he grins widely, even among the wince in his expression.

“Love that little fighter in you.” he growls, pressing down harder, so hard you fear it might bruise. “Can’t wait to break it.”

Your vision starts to cloud, black spots forming in your line of sight, and you can feel your consciousness slipping away from you even as you try desperately to remain awake and free yourself. It all proves to be in vain as you slip away from this world, barely able to hear his faint murmur of “That’s it,” before you pass out completely.

When you come to, your throat is sore and you can’t move your body. Your vision spins as you take in the sight of your bedroom, eyes squinting reflexively as the glare of the television hits your retinas.

You turn your head this way and that only to see, to your horror, that your hands and feet are tied to each bedpost with thick, coarse rope. No matter how hard you tug, there seems to be no breaking free, and panic creeps up your still hoarse throat, hot and thick and dully aching. 

The television catches your attention once more, your mind focusing on it in an attempt to calm yourself down, and you watch whatever’s on, your brain catching up quickly.

“...in what reporters everywhere are calling the ‘Doppelgäng​er Takeover,’ recent news has shown that people are being viciously attacked and some even killed by someone that looks exactly like them. If you see someone behaving not quite right, stay back and do not approach; they are known to be violent and highly dangerous.”

Your breathing hitches and starts to shallow rapidly as you start to hyperventilate, tugging harder and harder on your restraints. 

“They won’t budge,” Jeno’s voice calls out, and you flinch, whipping your head around to find the source of the sound. Jeno emerges from the hallway, now clad in a short sleeved black tank top and dark gray sweats. “You can thank Jeno’s mom for that; she signed him—and therefore me—up for Boy Scout training when we were eight.” He steps further into the room, dark piercing eyes scanning your frame trembling with fear. “Her precious Jeno never quite got the hang of the knots, but me? I mastered them.”

A terrified whimper slips from you before you can stop it, and his lips quirk up into a wickedly delighted smile.

“What should I, um…” you swallow thickly before continuing, “call you?”

“Jeno.” he replies easily, and his keen eyes catch the almost imperceptible grimace that takes to your lips at his answer. 

“What are you going to do with me?” you ask worriedly, and he raises an eyebrow.

“I’m going to keep you.” he states plainly, and your body stills entirely, fear igniting in your bloodstream and leaving you close to paralyzed. 

“What about my doppelgänger?” you question, not knowing what answer could possibly make you feel better at this point.

“I got rid of her.” His answer is simple again, and you suck in a breath of surprise. “She’s not as fun as you.”

“Fun?” you croak, and he nods, a gleeful smile on his lips as he nears the bed slowly.

“Doppelgängers are essentially a ‘crude’ copy of the ‘original’ person,” Jeno explains, making one-handed air quotes around the words he spits with disdain, “and only the ‘original’ person has a soul.” 

“So… so that means—”

“I don’t have a soul.” Jeno confirms with a hollow laugh made all the more terrifying now that you know he’s literally hollow spiritually, devoid of humanity. “None of my people do.”

“And you want my soul?” you ask fearfully, and he snorts in amusement, shaking his head.

“You really are cute, you know that?” he chuckles. “I’m not going to take it from you,” he says, waiting until your body slackens with relief to add, “I’m going to break it.”

“What does that mean?” you whimper, fresh tears spilling from your eyes. “Jeno, what do you mean?”

“I want you to understand that this is your reality now. I don’t want there to be any fight left in you at all. But you people are like that… hopeful,” he spits the word with disgust. “Your spirits are like a fire that won’t go out. Every once in a while, there’s a little,” he pauses to scan your face, eyes brightening with excitement when he catches sight of your eyes, no doubt reading the fear, fury, and desperation you have to save yourself— “ember… that sparks up, and I’m going to be here to snuff yours out every… single… time.” He’s close enough to bring his mouth to your ear, lips grazing the lobe and making you shudder with revulsion. “You’re not going anywhere unless I say so.”

You don’t say anything, setting your jaw firmly and staring straight ahead to ignore him. Maybe he’ll get angry enough and kill you, putting you out of your misery.

“There’s that little fighter,” he remarks with fascination. “I saw a hint of it earlier when I was choking you; that fight to survive, to live—you fucked my arm up pretty badly, I was impressed.” he remarks, extending his arm to show you the deep, angry, red cuts clawed into his forearm he’d wrapped around your throat just hours ago. His other arm emerges from behind his back, and your eyes widen when you see a Hitachi wand in his hand, his thumb already resting on the “on” button. “I am going to have so much fun breaking you.” he rasps with unrestrained excitement as he turns the vibrator up to the highest setting.

well.........congrats for making it to the end!! *insert obligatory "i definitely don't think jeno's like this" part that technically doesn't need to be there considering that wasn't jeno* i hope you liked it and if you didn't.... well sorry ig tune in next time for a lovey dovey fic 💖

[lovelivision]

can you write something about brat tamer toji punishing reader for a day full of brattiness by manhandling and overstimulating them? this isnt in your will write or wont write but can you add daddy kink in there?

₊⁺ જ⁀➴💌 i sure can and did ! >:3 it's short but longer than my other drabbles ! i personally don't love daddy kink and don't have it in myself to write it fully but i did a little bit of what i can bear 💗 thank you sm for your ask and i hope you like it ! have a beautiful day/night 💗

꒰꒰mdni // masterlist꒱꒱

Toji punishing you in a deliciously cruel kind of way, his voice dark and gruff when he speaks to you, tone agitated, “Never behave do you? Can’t fucking help yourself.”

His hand harsh on the back of your neck, holding you down, your back arched meanly while he fucks into you from behind. Toji can’t help but bite his lip at the way you grip him, your cunt creaming around him, your past orgasms making his cock so slick and shiny. Trying to suppress his noises so you can’t tell just how much he’s enjoying himself.

You’re out of your mind, words slurred and coming slow between moans, “Mm sorry! Ah!– I– hnn– I didn’t mean to upset you– hah–”

“See,” he’s leaning down, mouth right next to your ear as he spits, “I think you did; I think you annoyed me all day just so you’d end up right here.”

He clocked you so easily, knowing what you were doing as soon as you started pissing him off all those hours ago. He can’t say he’s overly disappointed in you though, he loves taking you like this as much as you do.

“Noo, I wouldn’t–”

“–We both know you would,” he cuts you off.

His hammering pace suddenly stops, stuffing you full to the hilt of him, shallowly grinding into you but not much more. He’s able to feel the way you pulse around him, groaning at the snug fit of your pussy.

You whinge and wiggle your hips back into him, trying and failing to fuck yourself onto his cock. You need him to keep going, to do anything, but he only bites into your shoulder, a light punishment for your complaints.

“You need it that bad, baby?” his voice holds a kind of mirth that makes your skin prick, “Fine.”

He has two fingers on your clit before you can even register his threatening compliance, circling it insistently. You twitch and jolt under him, halted by his hand pressing into your upper back. So sensitive, everything feels hot, your toes curling and feet kicking into the mattress as you gasp out whines.

His cock throbs desperately inside you at the way your cunt pulses and leaks all over him, loving how you struggle against the pleasure. Already so overstimulated and he knows that, he likes pushing you to your limits.

Prying an orgasm out of you without moving his hips, only letting his fingers slip all over your clit until you’re trying to milk his cock. Muscles pulling taut as you cum all over him, Toji moans at it before chuckling breathlessly.

“Fuuuck– look at that,” he clicks his tongue, “Sometimes I think I’m too nice to you.”

Not really registering anything of what he’s saying, not when his fingers are tapping on your clit just to make you jerk under him at every touch.

Pouting out at him, “You’re so mean to me…”

“What do you mean?” you can practically hear the smile you know he’s wearing, “Daddy’s always so nice to you.”

You groan at him, “Ugh, shuddup.”

He laughs at your reaction but doesn’t miss the way your cunt jumps at his words, “Think you liked that a little more than you’re willing to admit.”

Shaking your head back at him in response, going to say something bratty in reply only to gasp and claw at the sheets when he starts fucking into you again. Fast and hard, almost driving you up the bed with how frenzied his thrusts are.

His hands are moving to your hips, using his new grip to fuck you like some kind of toy built for his pleasure. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, he always knows just how to fuck you into insanity, or stupidity.

“Close again? So soon?” He’s teasing you, though he’s breathless as he does, “That’s a little pathetic.”

So many orgasms forced out of you over the course of the night with him that you think he could look at you and you’d cum. “Toji– Ah! Ah! It’s too much–”

“–Should’ve thought about that before you acted the way you did,” he muses, not even a little bit mad anymore. And how could he be? You’re always so pliant when he’s fucking you, it’s something he delights in greatly.

The slick slapping sounds reverberating in the room are obscene, your moans just as loud, no doubt you’re going to wake up to a noise complaint from an angry neighbour again. Your nails dig into the sheets, bracing yourself against your next orgasm.

Fresh tears slipping from your eyes and down your cheeks at the force of it, whines pulled from your chest as your pussy spasms around Toji’s cock for the umpteenth time tonight.

“Such a good little thing,” he fucks you through it, “Only time you’re so well behaved is when I’m balls deep in you, I fuck you that good?”

You’re too busy trying to stay conscious to really be aware of what he’s saying, settling for dumbly nodding at him and mumbling out, “Mhm.”

The state he’s fucked you into is the last straw for him, cock twitching pitifully before he’s cumming inside your tight, little cunt. Painting your walls white and continuing his thrusts even if he’s overstimulating himself to do it.

He’s sounding fucked out himself when he asks, “Are you sorry for today, or do we need to do this all again from the beginning?”

[astrolynnworld]

aftercare

pairing: matt x reader

summary: matt takes care of you after rough sex

warnings: aftercare, comfort, kink talk, sweet, romantic, love

a/n: something short and sweet cause all my matt fics are smut

word count: 714

“fuck i’m so proud of you baby. you did so well tonight” matt says after pulling out of me

i don’t respond.

“baby? are you okay?” matt asks

i try to speak but nothing is coming out my mouth.

“you’re shaking princess-“ he pulls me up and holds me against his chest, “can you tell me what’s wrong baby? please?”

“i’m sorry. tonight was just a lot.. i’m not used to you being so rough” i say in a soft tone

“baby i’m so sorry. i didn’t realize that you weren’t enjoy-“

i cut him off

“no no no i did enjoy myself, i just don’t think my body was ready for all this-” i imply

“i mean .. i came three times, i can’t say i didn’t enjoy myself. it was just a lot” i continue in a lighthearted joking tone

he continues to hold me and lightly trace his fingers through my hair

“so.. i didn’t do too much?” he asks anxiously

“no baby, i’m just a bit overstimulated” i say as i lean back and look in his eyes

i could tell he really felt bad. which only made me feel worse

matt would never intentionally hurt me or do anything i don’t enjoy

we do have safeword, if i ever felt uncomfortable im not afraid to use it.

im just so used to a soft dom matt.. not a matthew who’s slamming into me at full speed while pushing my head into the bed so i can’t breathe.

i mean i was done after the second orgasm but he kept going, and i couldn’t stop him. it felt so good

i couldn’t even think anymore. he had his hands around my throat squeezing softly while lightly slapping my cheeks. it was all a lot

don’t even get my started on the hair pulling. i never knew matt even had it in him to be aggressive.

i think what set me over the edge was when he told me to stick my tongue out so he can spit in my mouth. he’s not even into that?

but regardless, it was all very overwhelming so i’m not surprised that i froze up after our final round

“baby?” matt calls out

“hm?” i respond

“did you hear what i said?” he asks

“no..”

“do you want me to run us a bath, would that help you relax”

i simply nod my head and he gets up to run the bath water

no less than a few minutes later he comes back and carries me to our bathroom and sits me in the tub loaded with bubbles

“aww you put bubbles in it? matt that’s so cute” i snicker

he smiles, “i thought you would enjoy more than the regular clear water”

he hops in the tub and sits across from me.

a comfortable silence fills the room for a minute before matt begins to speak

“are you sure you liked the sex tonight? i kinda just wanted to try something new, im sorry i didnt bring it up to you”

“matthew, i promise i enjoyed tonight! i just wasnt expecting it whatsoever.” i reply back

“okay oka-“

“it was really hot actually. i didn’t even know you were into some of these things” i interrupt

“like what?” he asks

“the spit..”

“honestly. i kinda always wanted to try it but i never did in fear that you would hate it” he exclaims

“what? no! that shit is such a turn on.”

“glad to know..” he smiles

i laugh, “boy! stop”

more silence fills the air for a few more minutes until i start to feel the drowsiness take over me

i yawn, “im getting sleepy..”

“wanna head to bed?” matt asks

i nod in response

he gets out the tub and guides me out, matt drains the tub as i dry myself off then we head back to our room

“where are you going?” matt asks

“to find a top?” i reply

“you don’t wanna sleep body to body?..” he questions acting offended

“you’re such a girl” i laugh

we hop in bed and i get comfortable in matt’s chest

“i love you so much y/n”

“i love you more matt”

our last words before the silence is filled in by comfortable snores

————————————————————————

a/n- the end 🫠

[readngandweepng]

afab!leon s. kennedy x top male reader

note: no pronouns for reader but written with a male in mind. not proofread whatsoever i couldnt bring myself to reread this lmfao. reader is kind of both a sub and dom, same with leon. i had no idea where i was going with this so strap in. also sorry to the anon that asked me to tag afab characters i didnt see the ask till now oops :(

leon’s hovering over you, your cock halfway inside him. his hands are on either side of you, alongside his legs that lay on each side of your thighs, keeping you firmly in place. slowly rocking his hips, the tip of your cock brushes gently against his walls. he lets out a shivery breath with every twitch of his hips. your eyes are locked into his deep stare, his blue eyes are hazy with lust. you can tell he’s fighting to keep them open—his eyes glossing over every time your hips jerk into his was indication enough. he could handle this. this is nothing, he can keep his composure perfectly fine. one jerk in particular, however, suddenly lands your cock inside of him completely and he chokes on a moan in an attempt to quiet himself, his eyes shutting momentarily before snapping back open to look into yours once more.

he swallows thickly before speaking, the tension in his voice evident. “that was dirty.” leon’s voice is somewhat crackly, but a welcome change in contrast to the stark silence of your bedroom. the smile he receives from you is irritating. though never explicitly stated, he knows what you’re trying to do. your fingers graze his skin, dancing around his waist, making his stomach cave and his pussy flutter. he internally curses at himself for letting weak touches get such a rise out of him, and before he can spit at you with a snide remark you lift your hips off the bed with purpose, a quick but deep thrust directly against his sweet spot. he almost buckles, a low moan slips from his lips as he grips onto the sheets under his hands. you chuckle, brushing his hair away that was sticking to the sweat of his forehead, revealing eyes that burn with ire. 

“stop it.” he says curtly. his body is completely still, almost afraid to move in fear of what his body would do in response. this kind of unpredictability was foreign, and leon wasn’t about to let you win this nascent fight. 

“why should i?” you say, not even bothering to hold back the same facetious smile. “afraid you’ll crack?” 

courageously, leon moves so that you have to raise your head up to look at him. you can tell the minor adjustment gives leon back some of his lost confidence when he takes your hands off of him and presses them down against the bed by the wrist, using the leverage to lift himself off and back onto your cock at a steady pace. leon is stone-faced, taking you with newfound resolve. breaking eye-contact, you admire his glistening body and the way he ungracefully bounces on your dick. the sight makes you groan, your face hot with reverence for leon and the sight he beholds. you can’t quite pinpoint his goal; does he want to break you? or better yet does he want to break you before you can break him? 

“holding me down is cheating,” you laugh breathlessly and it sends a shiver down leon’s spine, causing him to twitch around you (much to his chagrin). you don’t mean it, but your words make him speed up, your hips clashing together with fervor.

you can see now leon’s attempt to keep himself composed. his breath occasionally hitching, his grip on your wrists tightening when he feels like he’s about to lose it. he sighs deeply, barely able to keep his moans under wraps. his head lolls forward, his eyes shut tight. he’s so wrecked right now you could probably push him onto his back and fuck him until he can’t take it anymore, but you let him have this control, regardless of how fast it’s unraveling with every thrust of your cock inside him. 

“come on, leon.” you coo at him, his head raising momentarily to glare at you before falling forward back into place with a shaky breath. “look at yourself, you can barely keep yourself steady.” he shakes his head, a hand releasing one of your wrists and going over your mouth. with what you can, you lift yourself up to kiss his neck and caress his hip with your free hand. whether he realized it or not, he rests his body against yours and lets his arms wrap around you. his nails immediately dig into your skin as you move him up and down your cock. his face is tucked into your neck, muffling the moans that are pulled out of him when he’s slammed down onto your dick. 

with one last thrust leon convulses around your cock. you follow suit, cumming inside of him. you open your mouth to speak but leon once again slaps a hand onto your mouth, his words sharp but concise, “don’t say a word.” your smile grows beneath his palm and he rolls his eyes, planting an indirect kiss atop his clasped hand. 

[rotthepoet]

Wait let me correct myself enz and theo threesome but she's really shy 🫠🫠

POOKIE IM SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER I WANTED TO MAKE SURE IT WAS GOOD! MWAH, LOVE YOU!!!

Notes: I don’t think i’ve ever written a threesome before, and its been a long long time since I’ve written downright smut so bear with me🙏

Content: Hogwarts University AU, All characters are 18+, Drinking, drug use, threesome, porn without plot, piv, oral(both m and f), degradation and praising, leaving bruises, hair pulling, kinda choking?? , FEM READER, lmk if i missed anything my loves<3

It was all a blur really. One minute Slytherin was winning their last Quidditch match of the season, the next you were sitting in the corner of the common room deep below the castle as LED’s casted a layer of green over the clouds of smoke and vapor. You weren’t fond of parties. Not in the slightest. You liked keeping to yourself and your select group of friends. Alas, your select group of friends tended to be extroverts who simply… decided… they liked you, and these extroverts tended to like parties. They like you too. So why not combine the both?

So you sit quietly in the corner, laughing and smiling when one of your friends came to check on you, just so they didn’t worry. It’s not like you were completely bored, maybe a few drinks in you started taking candid pictures of your dancing friends, and as you became comfortable with the noise level and crowd, you joined in with them much to their excitement.

The night was a dream, really. Hands all over you, maybe your friends, maybe some strangers. It didn’t matter anymore. You felt good, distracted enough by the alcohol and second hand smoke in your system to let loose.

Theodore Nott and Lorenzo Berkshire were good acquaintances of yours. Maybe even friends if you squinted hard enough. Regardless, it wasn’t too much of a shock whenever you found their hands on yours.

“Never thought we’d see you at a party,” Enzo would say, his breath hot on your ear as he moved slowly behind you, his hands resting on your hips.

Theo would laugh and run his hands up to your waist, looking into your eyes with his bloodshot ones, “It’s a nice change… and you do look good.”

It’s really a blur after that. A drunken blur of groping and soft kisses along your shoulders. The heat just kept building in your lower stomach, and you didn’t argue whenever Theo asked you if you wanted to go to his room.

The idea didn’t even fully click in your head until you were topless on Theodore’s bed, letting Enzo graze his fingers over your perky tits. Stuck between the two men, feeling that pleasant buzz from the liquor and arousal, how could you ever say no?

They’re so gentle with you at first, letting you set the pace and curiously explore their bodies. Enzo’s between your legs long enough to have you seeing stars. His tongue swirls over your clit, his strong hands pressing your legs to your chest. He’s wet and messy, letting your combined slick and spit soak the sheets below you. He’s holding you so tight that it leaves bruises in the morning, and only grips tighter the more you squirm. During all this, Theo is leaving hickies all over your body. Your shoulders, your chest, your sides, hips, thighs, everywhere. He’s stroking his length slowly, teasingly, letting your watch as you whine and squirm as you’re marked. As he makes his way down your body, his deft fingers find your neglected and overly sensitive hole.

Theo is slow. Agonizingly slow. It feels like forever as he’s rubbing his fingers across your cunt, spreading you out for Enzo, laughing softly as you cry for him to finally fuck you. When he pushes his middle finger in, you let out the most delectable sound, and he barely pushes another into you before you cream all over him and Enzo. He fingers you through your orgasm, grinning at Enzo as your whines and cries quicken from the overstimulation.

Unfortunately for your well loved pussy, they’re not done. They’ve been so generous and helpful, the least you could do is take a little but more. Just for them, right sweetheart? And of course, like the little slut you are, you take it like a good girl.

It’s like a switch really. As soon as you nod your pretty little head, your breathing almost steady when they finally release you, you’re gripped by the hair and pulled up.

Enzo’s lips find yours in a messy, searing hot kiss as Theo manhandles you onto your knees. Whoever is gripping your hair doesn’t let up, even as Enzo finally leaves your bruised lips be.

It’s not for long though, not for long at all. As soon as Enzo pulls away, the tip of his cock kisses your lips, smearing his pre along the already wet skin. It’s daunting really, his size looking too big to fit in your tight cunt let alone your mouth. Your head is lifted, forced by a tug of your hair, and Lorenzo can only grin at the worried expression on your cute, fucked out face.

“Our girls a little worried, hm?”

And Theodore laughs behind you, a condescending sound that sends shivers up your spine. “She’ll be fine. Hasn’t broken yet, has she?”

It’s Theo’s tip pushing into you that makes you finally gasp, leaving Enzo to sheathe himself in your wet mouth. Count the seconds, because you only get a few before they’re using you like a fleshlight.

Theodore is ruthless, gripping your hips as he bucks into you like a man in heat, his heavy balls slapping against your clit in a frenzy while he grunts. Each thrust forces you deeper onto Enzo, his own hands gripping your hair to keep you steady.

“Such a pretty thing, isn’t she?”

“Oh yeah, especially like this. You’re having fun, aren’t you, pet?”

And you are having fun. So much fun as Theo reaches new depths inside of you, and Enzo’s cock hits the back of your throat. Tears stream down your cheeks and drool down your chin, dripping to the already drenched mattress. Their thrusts are synched, filling you up at the same time, making you see stars, or maybe it’s Enzo’s freckles. You aren’t sure at this point.

You finish without warning, your walls clenching and spasming around Theodore whose pace stutters at the sudden wave of pleasure, and his hand grips your bulging throat to steady himself.

You sob tears of pure pleasure as Enzo groans, releasing his seed deep down your throat, holding you down at his base while you choke and whine around him.

Theo doesn’t last much longer after that, his grip tightening as much as he could without hurting you, before he pulled out and let his tip spurt onto your back, coating you in sticky, warm release.

Coated in cum, and throughly fucked, you let the remainder of Enzo spill from your lips when he finally pulls away. Slender fingers collect the remnants from your chin, and push themselves into your sore mouth.

“Deep breath, darling. You can do it again, can’t you?”

Tags: @helendeath @lilyravennablack

[faeriehighfemme]

oh nothing just imagining me spread out lazily on our couch, legs wide, robe spilling open to reveal my nipples peaked, glistening with spit and sensitive. my fingers move nonchalantly, circling my sticky swollen clit, long nails over-stimulating the tender nerves there. i stare at the door with glazed eyes, hazy head playing out scene after scene of my big bad butch coming home to have their way with me.

maybe i’d hear the lock turn while edging, desperately trying to hold back from cumming just from the sight of you. the strain is nearly headache inducing, a pulsing sensation only intensified as my hungry gaze meets yours. you’d drop your bag, unclip your carabiner and toss your keys. i’d whimper at the sound of your belt unbuckling, hot tears welling in my eyes. “started without me?” you’d say breathlessly. “you know better.” my heart would pound as i watch your rings slide off and hit the table. belt in your free hand, you kneel to inspect me, knuckles roughly pushing my pussy lips apart. your breath on my labia makes me gasp. “oh,” you’d whisper. for a moment you’d simply stare, smiling, then suddenly, smack smack smack. three sharp slaps right on my clit. i wouldn’t be able to stop myself from crying out. “shh, shh, hush baby. it’ll be over soon. just hold still.” that wasn’t true though. it was only beginning. when you were ready, when you saw that i just couldn’t take anymore, the belt you so hastily removed earlier would come in handy…

or maybe you’d walk in while i was drooling, fingers down my throat, desperately wishing they were yours. you’d look me over slowly, shaking your head. “silly thing,” you’d tease. “you’re doing it all wrong.” i’d clench tight around nothing as you cracked your knuckles. you’d come to move my hand away, so softly, taking a moment to swipe your thumb over my puffy bottom lip. “missed me that much huh?” i’d nod eagerly. before giving me what i needed you’d run two fingers up my slit, collecting as much of my nectar as you could. you’d grip my jaw firmly and make my hazy eyes meet yours. my lips would part instinctively, tongue lolling towards your familiar touch. “go on princess,” you’d murmur. with your permission i’d take the fingers of your free hand in my mouth, greedily. “there, there, i’m here now baby,” you’d coo, almost condescendingly. “i’ll remind you how to fingerfuck your pretty mouth properly.”

you might get home to find i wasn’t so patient. you’d see me draped on the sofa drenched in sweat squirt and slobber, grinning tiredly at you as if i won some secret game. the dark look on your face would only cause my smile to grow. “bunny…” you’d growl. “that was a mistake.” soon you’d be between my legs, base deep and thrusting steady, slow as you please. in and out, in and out, almost torturously languid. i’d try to buck my hips, desperate to speed things up, but your arm would keep them pinned down. “no, no. you don’t get to set the pace, bunny.” you’d keep your rhythm, now the one smirking. “you lost that privilege.”

so much to think about… is that the door i hear?

[delimeats-000]

Hot and Bothered

matt sturniolo x reader

warning: rough car sex

note: idk man i hope u like it ☠️

─────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

“ooouu you look hot!!” nick says to me as i walk into the living room.

i do a little spin before facing him again, “thaaanks”

“of course-” he starts talking but matt cuts him off.

“who are you trying to dress up for?”

“no one matthew, we’re going to a party.” i give him attitude knowing that it will only rile him up more.

rolling his eyes he gets up from the couch and goes to his room. minutes later chris is ready to leave and im told to go get matt.

walking into his room i see him sitting at his desk, legs spread as he scrolls through tiktoks. i can’t lie he looks good dressed in all black, but i can’t give in. i have to tease him a little.

“like what you see?” he cuts off my thoughts smiling.

“you wish, we’re ready to leave.”

“you’re really gonna go out looking like that?”

he walks closer to me, now inches away “like what?”

“like a slut.” he whispers.

i grab him by the shirt pulling him in, his jaw drops open and he looks down at me with a growing smirk.

“watch your mouth matthew.” i let go and walk out of the room, leaving him there in shock.

we all pile into the car and head to the party, after being there for a little we all split up into our own groups. out on the floor dancing with some random guy i lock eyes with matt across the room. can of root beer in his hand slightly getting crushed by his tightening grip on it.

i wink at him before turning to the guy i’m dancing with. i grab his hand and turn around, ass pressed against his dick. i begin slowly grinding on him and he grabs my waist with his free hand still dancing along.

i look over to where matt just was and he’s gone now. just then i feel a hand grab mine pulling me out of the crowd.

“MATT” i try getting him to let go.

“we’re leaving.” he almost growls in response.

“no i’m not, get off.”

“fine.” he turns to me, “go ahead and continue dancing on other guys like a whore all night.” he lets go but this time i grab ahold of him.

"are you jelous"

i watch as his adams apple bobs up and down "no" ignoring his blatant lie i drag him to the car, now i can feel myself pooling between my legs.

“open it.” he unlocks the door climbing in the back seat. i follow behind him slamming the door shut before jumping top of him immediately attaching my lips to his.

the kiss is sloppy and wet, the sounds of our lips lapping together only turn me on more. i feel his bulge growing under me, prompting me to grind my hips down onto him.

he lets out soft groan reaching his hands from my waist to my ass, trying to move me faster. i let go of the kiss and he whines. “you’ve been so mean matthew, calling me names.”

“not my fault you dressed like a little slut.”

i slap him across the face, “say it again.”

he looks me dead in the eyes and smiles, “slut.”

i try to grab him by the face, but he grabs my wrist holding tightly. he begins pulling off my dress and i allow him to pull it over my head.

“such a little whore, pretending you don’t want me.” he says free hand rubbing my clit through my underwear, “but you’re so wet for me. why dont you make up for all the teasing?”

i immediately pull his boxers down and his dick springs up, he whines out and the air touching his sensitive length. i grip him spitting right on the tip and rub it in with my thumb “fuck more- i need more”

i slowly stroke him up and down before speeding up, precum drips onto my hand and he cries out. “so close baby, makin me feel so good.”

with that i take him all in my mouth at once bobbing my head rapidly. i gag on him which only causes him to push me down further.

then without warning he grabs me by my hair and pulls me off. “ride me like the slut you are, lemme fill you up.”

“yes matt please” he smiles at the name.

"being such a good girl now." he holds my face gently by my chin only to kiss me just as rough as before.

he holds me by the waist guiding me to hover over his erection. slowly, he slides it. it hurt, but not for long.

"fuck baby like heaven"

"matt fuck- let me move" stil holding my waist he lifts me up and down with ease.

"so wet pretty girl i knew you liked me"

"matt shut up-"

he drops me onto his dick quickly and i let out a scream, "watch yourself baby."

he continues bouncing me on his cock, running his tongue down my neck at the same time drives shivers down my spine and into my leaking cunt.

i pulse around him gaining groans from matt in return, he fuck into me harder and sloppier. my back arched i can feel myself about to cum.

"matt please- fuck dont stop" he carries the same speed hitting all the right places.

"gonna cum inside you baby, gonna fill you up so good"

"yes matt please please cum with me"

i feel his release his hot sticky liquid into me, it drips down my leg and im still in his lap.

he lifts my head from his chest to look at him, with a peck on the lips he says "you get me too hot and bothered"

─────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

alr, love ya to bits 🫀

[occamstfs]

To The Ground Floor

Heyo- Saw this next picture and just had to use it so here’s a businessman to dumb sub twunk TF! 

If anyone wants to suggest a prompt for my 1K follower post here’s the link- https://forms.gle/NE66kaH4KJxkhgPk9

Probably be wrapping it up/posting a poll soon! -Occam

I don’t know what my company was thinking when they scheduled our conference in Tenerife. It would be one thing if it was a retreat or team vacation, but it is nearly impossible to get any real work done with all these tourists stomping around and getting in my way. I was set to make it early to our morning meeting, as I always do, before this twat forced his way in before I could get to the close door button. He surely noticed since he glared at me before returning to focus on the only thing that seems to matter to him, his vanity.

In retrospect I should have kept my mouth shut, but I couldn’t help but scoff as he started to take a picture of his reflection in the door. It was immature, but when dealing with this crowd of influencers or whatever these childish twits has put me off my usually stoic demeanor. He immediately responded with aggression, “You laughin’ mate? You lot all think you’re so much better than us eh?” He scowls once more at me and to his credit, I do think myself superior to him. Not afraid to say it either.

I open my mouth to shoot some clever insult at him but before I can the delinquent fully spits at me! Where does he get off! The elevator chimes as it stops at the sixth floor. I grab my handkerchief to wipe the spit off my dress shoes as I hear him run off, shouting “you’ll get yours ya git!” I look up to see the small of his back showing beneath his trailing coat and mesh top. I can’t help but stare as he runs, asshole he may be but, god, he is hot isn’t he?

I cough as I can’t believe I thought that! He’s absolute filth! Parading himself around dressed like that on a work day, my word! I don’t notice that there is no longer a handkerchief in my hand as I reach to wipe the spit off my shoes with my now empty hand. As I finally wrest my eyes from his pert body I notice that the villain pushed every button in the elevator. So help me god if I’m late to my meeting I will find him and- well, there’s not much I can do. I’m not exactly the peak specimen, unlike, uh him I suppose.

The doors click closed and begin to take me to the fifth floor. I consider hopping off to take the stairs but I’m sure he’ll be there waiting for me. I go to check my rolex when I notice I’m not wearing it? I would never go to a meeting without it though? My mind grows foggy as I thoughtlessly wipe the spit still on my hand on my suit. God it’s a little warm in this elevator isn’t it. I sniff the air and find that it still smells of that jerk. His cologne must’ve been something intense.

I continue to whiff the air before realizing that it is clearly not perfume but his natural body odor, blushing as I grow slightly jealous at his scent. I find my mind drifting as I think what a man he must be to smell so, mm. The only word I can think is, virile? Ugh, I need to get to work, this is going to set me back. The doors clink open to the fifth floor as the heat only continues to grow. Why am I wearing such a thick suit jacket anyway? It is so fucking hot on this island. I absolutely hate it here. I’ll just take it off for the rest of the elevator ride. Yeah, that couldn’t hurt right? My eyes glaze over as I think of his coat trailing off his head as he ran down the hallway and I bite my lip.

God that hot fucker. My jacket falls to the floor and before I can catch it it’s as if it was never there. I grunt as I think once more of my upcoming meeting. Surely they won’t judge right? My mind shuffles as I don’t even try to understand what has happened to my jacket. The fogginess in my head swiftly finds a form though as I see his smug smirk in my mind. Fuck I- I need to fuck him, or be fucked or? I grunt once more, my voice noticeably more dull. I try to fan my shirt open as the heat grows worse and I find myself growing hornier by the second. The elevator is already on the way to the fourth floor without my notice. I give up fanning my shirt and instead just open the buttons when I am suddenly met with something I cannot reconcile. When the fuck did I get, such, fuckable pecs? I press a finger into my own chest and start to drool as I see the depth of my muscle. I see my brown nipples grow and try to wipe the pooling drool from my mouth as I think how much my body looks like that uh, that twit? No that uh, that hot fucker?  I feel like I’m losing my mind. Or, losing myself? Uh..

The doors open and close on floor four as I struggle to think of absolutely anything but that, uh, stud. My own chest jutting out forces me to think of his own hearty pecs. The powerful curves of his body stretching his fishnet top, ugh. I see the biceps now on my own arms and struggle to not flex them thinking of that staring at himself in the elevator’s reflective wall and posing. I stare at the abs pushing out of my torso and think of his cinched waist peeking out from those sagging pants. God why didn’t I just try to fuck him then oohh.. Or no, Why didn’t I give myself to him..I moan as I loosen my belt, trying to allow my growing erection some air, instead giving my cock and ass more space to expand.

God his fuckable ass was impossible to miss even through those jeans. I bite my lip once more trying to stop myself from moaning as the doors open to the third floor. No one is there to see or hear me as my pants drop to the floor and disappear as if they were never there. As if I would wear pleated pants ever I think blushing. My cock begins to grow to fill my boxers. Or no hee hee- Surely I’m not wearing boxers right haha, giggling as I look down and see the clear imprint of my erection in my tight spandex. Mikey would never let me wear something so unattractive as boxers~

I feel an itch in my crotch as I think of Mikey once more, not hesitating to wonder how I could possibly know his name. Nor why he brings me such intense, feelings. It’s just, I’m so lucky to have him! Ah- I might lose control if I keep thinking about him, I need to keep it together for my uh, meeting? I shove my hand into my crotch to deal with whatever that itch is when I find it’s not my still growing cock, but a jungle of pubes that have begun to grow down there. I feel my fingers drag through them, now covered in sweat as the pubes begin to push themselves above my waistline. 

I giggle to myself as I see the thick black hair inch its way to create a perfect treasure trail up my stomach. I’ve gotta keep it looking good for Mikey after all! I play with the lengthening hair in my crotch, giggling to myself, as the elevator makes its landing on the second floor. I raise my sweaty hand to smell it as some prude stares in disbelief in the elevator lobby. I smile coily at him as he narrows his eyes in shock. He almost looks a little familiar but I’d certainly not waste any of my time on him haha!

He decides not to get on for some reason, not that I care as I look at my sharpening reflection. I play with my chest feeling the ebb and flow of my strength as I start to smell my own scent fill the elevator. I notice my feet are now bare on the dirty elevator’s floor. Ah, I hope Mikey won’t be upset if my feet are gross, smiling to myself as I think of him chewing me out. I feel a similar forest begin to grow in my pits as the elevator stops unceremoniously on the first floor before making its way to the ground floor.

I rub my hands all over on my now almost completely unclothed body as I feel my spandex shrink and tighten into a yellow speedo. My hands glide smoothly around the muscular curves, only ever getting caught on my tangled pubes as I giggle to myself. Wasn’t there something I had to do when I got to the ground floor? I raise my arm to bask in my scent as the elevator finally delivers me to my destination, and who could be standing there but Mikey!

“Mikey!” I shout at him! He looks so happy to see me, before responding, “well you’re looking great aren’t ya love.” He pushes and prods me as if he’s inspecting me as I proudly stand there giving him the doe eyes he demands. He smirks as he pulls me out of the elevator and plants his lips on mine. I can barely help but come right there as I feel my cock stretch at my speedo. I moan but keep it together, feeling his pursed lips grow into a smirk before he pulls away and laughs. 

I tilt my head at him before he speaks once more, “you remember what you’re supposed to be doing right now right, pet?” My face grows warm with blush, surely betraying my cluelessness as I struggle to remember. I had a meeting or? No, Haha As if! I, I could never work a stupid office job~ I try to look as coy as possible, inviting him to jog my memory. His eyes grow dark, not from aggression, but a hunger welling within him as he answers, “I need ya to get those posh wankers and bring them to me eh, doll? Need to them to submit yeh?”

My smile grows wide as my mind fills with excitement for this task. I’m gonna be so good and Mikey will be so proud of me! None of those boring businessmen will be able to resist me hehe! I begin to make my way out to the beach looking for any salarymen looking especially susceptible to my charms. I strut around, my body on display to everyone, monkeysuit suckers and other horny tourists alike. As if any of them have something more important going on hee hee! Soon they’ll all realize there is nothing more important than pleasuring Mikey!

[number1mingyustan]

Ahhh I love your mingyu fics can you do a smut with jealous bf mingyu? (Also your writing is amazing)

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, cursing, kissing, explicit smut, shower sex, marking, arguing, resolved angst, jealousy, praise, oral(f.), fingering (f.), squirting, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, toxic on the dl

_______________________________________________

You slam the door behind you abruptly and stomp through the bedroom.

"You're acting crazy Mingyu," You huff.

The door swings back open and he walks through. "You're not even listening to me."

You turn facing him with your arms crossed. There's not even a hint of amusement on your face. "You're not listening to me."

You plop down on the bed, butt sinking into the mattress. YOu lean over and start pulling at the strings of your shoes. You're already frustrated and frankly, you're struggling to get your heels off.

"Let me help," Mingyu offers with a sigh.

"No," You spit out quickly. "I can do it myself."

It's a lie.

Your nails are too long for you to properly grip and undo the fastener on the shoe. You couldn't even get them on yourself earlier in the night. Mingyu did it for you. But that was before he started acting like a jealous prick and pissed you off at the club. And the only person more stubborn than Mingyu is you.

He watches you struggle, but ultimately gives in and kneels down to help you anyway. You huff out in annoyance and his face tightens. Neither of you says anything, although the tension in the room seems to thicken.

He helps you out of your shoes, and the moment the second heel is off, you're back on your feet. You don't look at him or thank him, simply standing to your feet and turning your back to him.

His jaw tightens and he takes a deep breath. "Could've at least said thank you."

"I didn't need your help," You snap back quickly.

"What the fuck Y/n? Why are you acting so crazy?!"

"I'm not acting crazy, you are. You're the one treating me like I did something wrong! If some guy comes up to me and starts flirting, I can't do anything to stop him. It's not like I was entertaining it either. I made it clear I wasn't interested and that I had a boyfriend, you're acting like I fucked every guy that looked at me tonight!" You scoff.

"You don't get it."

"I understand it perfectly Gyu." You grit your teeth.

"I know you didn't entertain it but fuck–Y/n. Did you see how many guys were staring at you like a piece of meat? Practically drooling and snickering to their friends and the second they laid eyes on you. And then the amount of them that actually had the audacity to go up to you? It's disrespectful as fuck and you can't blame me for not wanting to stay any longer."

"You dragged me out like I was your property! Just because you were miserable the whole time we were there, doesn't mean I was too. You might not have wanted to see the flirting, but you're taking it out on me like I was actually doing something wrong. Don't have a hot girlfriend if you can't handle it."

You storm off before he can respond with a slam of the bathroom door. You turn on the shower, giving it time to warm up as you slip out of the admittedly very short and very tight dress hugging your body.

Once hot, you step into the shower and allow the water to cover your body. It helps to put you at ease and release the tension and anger weighing on your heart.

You tilt your head back, allowing the water to trickle down your skin. You're so relieved by the water you fail to hear the door opening. Mingyu slips into the bathroom quietly, stripping himself bare without your knowledge.

He steps into the shower, sudden presence startling you. Your heart drops and begins racing and you visually flinch. "Mingyu-"

"Shh" He hushes you calmly, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. He holds you gently, pulling you in so your back meets his chest.

His chin rests on your shoulder and you can feel his soft breaths on your neck. "I'm sorry," he says quietly.

He plants small kisses on your shoulder, mumbling more apologies in your ear. You try to hold your poker face, but your body relaxes on its own. You melt against his touch. "I was an asshole..." he admits. " 'M sorry."

He lifts his head and turns you around so you're facing him. He cups your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes meet. "I fucked up."

You nod lightly. "You did."

"Let me make it up to you?" He offers.

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Gyu..."

"Please?" He practically begs. "I only acted like a dick because I love you. It's fucked up, I know... but shit. You have any idea how beautiful you are?"

He pulls your body flush against his. Your chests press against one another and he looks down at you. You can feel the length of his hard cock poking against your inner thigh. Neither of you acknowledge it.

"You're so fucking perfect..." He whispers.

He starts trailing kisses along your neck. His lips are soft against your skin, but he sucks harshly. He's sure to leave hickeys, allowing his territorial side to come through. You don't stop him though, can't say you mind all that much when it feels this good.

A moan slips past your lips and you can feel the way Mingyu smirks against your skin. He knows you've already folded and you've given him all the confirmation he needs to keep going.

His hand travels up your stomach, lightly cupping one of your tits. His head dips down between the valley of your breasts and he continues kissing you. "Didn't want anyone else staring at these perfect tits..."

He continues trailing kisses along your skin, opening his mouth wider once he reaches your nipple. He sucks on the bud, causing you to arch your back and press your thighs together. "Everything about you is so beautiful baby," he mumbles.

His head moves, traveling to your other breast and giving it the same attention before continuing to kiss down your stomach. He reaches your navel before kneeling down on the shower floor.

The view has you nearly salivating. He's below you on his knees, hair dripping wet from the shower with his eyes fixated on you. They're clouded with love and lust and you can sense how eager he is to love on you.

"Can I?" He asks softly.

You breathe out shakily, giving him a small nod. He's quick to spread your legs and push his head in between. He starts off slowly, kissing between your thighs and licking a long stripe through your folds.

"Fuckkkkk," You breathe out.

"Didn't want anyone thinking about this pussy either.... 's all mine."

You lean your head back against the wet wall of the shower. He begins sucking on your clit softly, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. "Taste so good ma."

He lifts one of your legs, resting it on the rim of the bathtub. You tug at his wet hair for support, but it doesn't do much once he starts devouring you. He's sloppy with it, french kissing your clit and pushing his warm tongue in your folds. His nose nudges against your clit and you're squirming above him nonstop.

You cry out, hands slipping against the wet wall as you try to hold yourself up. Your legs are shaky with pleasure and your balance is unsteady.

He adjusts your body slightly, holding you up by your ass cheeks and encourages you to grind down on his face. He moves your hand down on his shoulder. You push your hips against his lips sloppily, crying out as the pleasure overwhelms you.

"S-Shiiiiit," You moan. "Gyu 'm gonna cum."

Your nails dig into his shoulder as your juices coat his face. He moans against you, sending vibrations coursing through your body enough to have you cumming in moments.

He focuses his lips back on your clit, sucking harshly on the sensitive bud. He slips two fingers into your hole, pumping them into you. Your orgasm courses through you before you have time to warn him. You cry out, legs shaking as you cum on his face. Your pussy tightens around his fingers and your clit throbs on his tongue.

A rush of liquid coats his face as you grind against him. He kneels there, moaning against you as he relishes in your taste. He gives you a moment to come down, watching as your chest rises and falls from the harsh breaths you take. He pulls his fingers out slowly and helps you balance yourself on your feet.

He presses one last kiss on your clit before standing to his feet again.

"Better?" He asks.

You nod lightly.

"You forgive me yet mamas?" He asks fondly.

You lick your lips slowly and shrug. "Don't think so."

He sucks his teeth. "Baby."

You give him the cold shoulder, turning around so you're no longer facing him. YOu allow the water to drip down your body again.

He's not amused.

He grabs your waist, pressing your back against his chest.

"Gyu-"

He pushes your body flush against the glass of the shower. Your wet tits flatten against the transparent metal and his cock presses against your folds.

"Since you wanna be difficult, 'M gonna fuck it out of you," He groans against the shell of your ear.

You whimper.

Without warning, he enters you roughly. His cock pounds into you from behind, pushing your body up against the wet glass with each thrust.

You cry out, moaning his name as he fucks you. He continues to tell you how perfect you are, words reflecting differently than the way he thrusts his cock into you mercilessly.

Your palms lay flat against the wet wall as you try to hold yourself steady. His cock stretches you open, pleasure hitting you in all the right places. His cock reaches deep into you, pounding against your g-spot with each roll of his hips.

He grunts, tightening his grip on your waist as he feels you stretch around his cock. You're still tight, warmth enveloping his cock and making it hard for him to stop. He would fuck you all day if he could.

You're always wet for him and you feel so fucking good. It's why all those guys were pissing him off so much today. He just thinks everything about you is so fucking perfect. You're his to kiss, to love, to fuck, and only his.

He knows he needs to control his possessive side more, but when you're arching your back and pushing your ass against him like this, he can't help but feel defensive. He'd never share you.

It doesn't take long before you're cumming again. You cry out his name, catering to everything he wants to hear right now. He continues to compliment you, voice breaking as he cums inside of you moments later.

He groans as he fills you up, pumping his load into you and painting your inner walls white. He kisses your shoulder before pulling out and holding you up. Your legs are shaky, but he supports you.

"Was that too much?" He asks softly.

"No, I'm okay," You look back at him.

Your eyes are soft and he can sense you're getting sleepy. He nods in acknowledgment. "I'm sorry for acting like an asshole, seriously. You don't deserve that and I wanna do better."

"It's okay Gyu, I get it. But I've never given you any reason to doubt me, right?"

"Never."

You plant a kiss on his cheek. "Doesn't matter how many guys try to get at me, the only one I want is you. I mean it."

He licks his lips. "I know."

You pull him in an hug him. Your wet bodies press against one another warmly, it's so comforting.

"Alright baby, let's get you properly cleaned up and go to bed, okay?"

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

sending him a naughty pic

(cw: age gap 25/41, naughty pics, sexting, masturbating in a bathroom, mdni)

part before: listening to music in his car

In the morning, when I wake up, the first thing I do is send König a message. And a naughty one at that. I lift my phone over my body and my shirt over my boobs, trying to get a good shot. After a few clicks of my camera, I choose one of the pictures, tits on full display, a slight smile on my face, and send it to him with the caption “early morning thinking about you”.

Then I get up and get myself ready to go to work. While I drink my coffee, my phone dings. Twice in quick succession.

👑 thinking about you as well

And a picture of his morning wood poking out of his black boxers which has me on the floor.

God damn it, this man is going to be the end of me.

I hop into the car and shoot him a message before I drive to work.

me: you not gonna do anything about that?

The little ding of my phone while I’m still driving sends a shiver of excitement. I pull myself together and wait to look at the message when I pull into a parking space at work.

👑 about what?

Oh, he’s acting coy now. A stupid little smile forms on my lips as I make my way to my desk. Wrecking my brain what to say next.

me: well, you’re clearly happy to see me… if i was there i’d already have my hand wrapped around you

I press send, feeling very cheeky right now, but I try to shake the blush from my face. I check my emails, answering the most pressing ones, waiting impatiently for his answer. Ding. Ding.

👑 you mean like that?

His boxers are pulled down now, his hand wrapped around his girth. My breath hitches in my throat, my eyes fixed on the picture, taking in every little detail. The black sheets underneath him, the happy trail on his lower stomach, the little vein popping out. The piercing on his tip that has me wondering how it would feel to lick over it.

me: yes just like that although… i couldn’t resist running my tongue all over it taking you in my mouth

Oh fuck, I’m fully sexting at work right now.

👑 yeah? you sure it would even fit? texting with one hand is hard

The last message makes me chuckle.

me: we won’t know until i try… or maybe my hands will need to do all the work while i lick just the tip

I’m feeling hot all over while I send the message, putting the device away like it’s burning me and trying to calm down while I stare at computer screen in front of me.

Just one Ding. I look at my phone and it’s a fucking video. I groan inwardly, looking around. There’s almost nobody here, but I can’t risk being seen watching this on my phone. I quickly grab my headphones and head to the toilet for some more privacy, locking myself in one of the stalls, lowering the lid, using it as a seat.

He sent another message in the meantime.

👑 i can’t stop thinking about yesterday

Yesterday when we fucked in the back of his car. Needy and quick, almost fully clothed. So hard, the whole car was shaking.

His words make me tingle all over, while I hurriedly put my earbuds in, intently staring at the screen as I press play, anticipation halting my breath.

The black boxershorts are gone now, but I can’t help notice them lying beside him on the also black sheets, before my attention gets pulled in by the - uhm - matter at hand.

His strong big hand is moving up and down his length, softer than I would have imagined. Pulling back his foreskin, lazily pumping up his dick. His thumb grazes over the exposed tip, playing with his piercing for a little bit. I want to do that as well, is the thought that floods my mind. Preferably with my tongue. A little bead of precum forms at the top, running down his length, before his fingers stroke over it.

He pulls his hand away for a moment, and I can hear him spit. I groan. Fuck. His fingers grip his cock again, coating it in his own saliva, jerking himself faster now. The grunts and heavy breaths… he isn’t holding back at all. “Fuck.”, he sighs, and hearing him, so close, makes all of this even hotter.

And it feels dirty, but I can’t help it, my hand wanders down to my pants, hastily opening the button, lowering my zipper, my fingers disappearing into my panties, until they find my pussy. Fuck, I’m so wet, holy hell. I bite my lip to stifle any moans as I push into myself, the memories of him doing that heightening the sensations… while I wish it was him again, touching me like this.

Knowing that he is touching himself thinking about me, thinking about what we did yesterday… is turning me on. His little video, with the soft moans and the grunts, isn’t helping either. I press play again, his sounds right in my ear are spurring me on, my fingers frantically strumming over my clit now.

The visuals of him fucking his fist, the memories of him fucking me from the back, his hands digging into my hips, the slaps of skin against skin, our panting breaths...

And when I hear the little “Fuck” again, his voice deep and husky, I cum, pressing my lips together not to make a noise, while my fingertips still stroke over my wet folds. When it subsides, I finally dare to breathe again. This… was definitely something I didn’t anticipate when I came to work today, but I can’t keep the little dirty smile from my lips.

I snap a picture, with my fingers still buried deep inside me, so he knows I touched myself as well. Then I type out the message that has been circling my mind those last few minutes.

me: wish those were your fingers inside me instead

His answer comes quickly.

👑 fucking perfect

A slight smile on my face and a little tingle down my spine I’m still sitting on the put-down toilet lid, feeling the cold tiles against my shoulderblades. I just try to breathe calmly and get rid of the blush that’s surely staining my cheeks, so I can go back to work.

Ding. Ding. I straighten back up in an instant, unlocking my phone, looking at the chat.

👑 you made a total mess of me

A photo attached of his hand and dick, sticky with his cum, little pools of the white liquid on his abs and tummy.

me: and i would clean it all up 👅 👑 you’re killing me me: the french don’t call it la petite mort for nothing 👑 don’t bring the french into this

I have to cover my mouth to not fully burst out into laughter, but our little back and forth pulls me from the naughty little situation and I get out of the stall. I make my way back to my desk, my ears still burning, my cheeks bright red, and sit down on my chair, because those emails won’t answer themselves. I send him another picture of me in this state, obvious that I’m at work and still very flustered.

me: you got me like this at work so don’t ever doubt my interest in you again, big guy

👑 i’m not doubting anything anymore, promise

And he has the nerve to also send me a picture of him, lying there in his bed, against his cushions. One arm holding up the phone, the other one tangled in his hair, deliciously showing off his tattooed biceps. His strong pecs peppered with dark hair. His lips are curled into a satisfied smirk and there is just the lightest blush on his cheeks, that I’ve been noticing on him after he’s just cum. And the lids are hooded a bit, his bedroom eyes gazing into the camera, the familiar mischievous spark in them. Fuck, can he stop being this dreamy?

👑 so, speaking about my fingers inside you… can i kidnap you to my humble abode this evening?

I chuckle a little, but the message only intensifies the blush on my face, while it simultaneously makes me also type faster.

me: yes pls, i would very much like that

next part or more stuff in the Masterlist ~

thanks to @notknickers who i told about my ideas for this little chapter and they gave me even more ideas <3 to our blorbos!

[myfamilycrestisthedemonofdeath]

Eh, fuck it, here's my first actual shit written

~~

Gimme a reader who is normally taciturn snapping and becoming spitfire.

Imagine you and 141 out for drinks at a dive bar, drinking enough liquor to drown your memories of harrowing situations away. Price and Ghost just chilling in the corner of the bar, drinking while keeping their eyes on the surroundings; Price keeping an eye on Johnny and Kyle who are becoming rowdy by the billiards table, and Simon is just quietly nursing a drink while watching everything else. You're a few stools away, wanting to drink alone, until some younger slob sits next to you, ignoring the irritated glance you threw his way and the prickly atmosphere you exude. Tries the usual schtick of getting you to go with him, promising good times and such. The 141 men immediately notice and are casually on standby to help, until you finally snap at the fucker who is trying to give you his number and address.

"If you're gonna give me an address, I'd rather take your dad's so that way I can go fuck him and give him a son who he will actually love, enough to teach little boys like you what the fuck manners are. And if you have a mom, I'll fuck her too", you say bluntly but loudly.

If you were paying attention on anything else but the guy, you'd hear Johnny and Kyle immediately cackling in surprised delight. Price, on the other hand, actually snorts his drink and sputter, spitting some of it out. Simon's face is of course hidden, hiding his grin but his eyes crease to show it, eyebrows raised to high heavens.

"If you're looking to just get your dick wet, I suggest you go cry on it, or fuck off and bother someone else", you continue, not allowing the guy to talk. "I'm not in the mood to babysit you asshole, so get off my face before I make you eat this bar", you growl out.

The poor fool is turning red, mouth opening and closing to get a word in, but before he could, you hear Kyle speak up, now beside you with a shit-eating grin, putting his hand by your shoulder and facing the guy.

"Listen, mate, she's not interested. You better scramble off before she grabs your balls and rips it off", he says, joy evident in his voice.

"Aye, Ah've see 'er do it, honest ta' God", Johnny follows up, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, still somewhat cackling.

The appearance of the two big, burly men to your side seems to finally scare the guy off, profusely apologizing to them before running off. You get irritated, as it seems the boy really didn't respect you and only backed off because of the presence of other men.

"The both of you, fuck off too. I can handle myself", you tell them testily.

Kyle lets go of your shoulder, backing away while shaking his head with his hands up. "You handled it perfectly, but was just a bit worried he'd keep harrassing you regardless".

"Tha' was hot, bonnie. Never thought ya got the fire in ya'", Johnny quips. "Ah know ya ken handle yourself, so we'll leave ya to it", he adds, dragging Kyle with him back to the billiards table, both laughing.

You threw the both of them a withering look, and notice Simon helping John by giving him more napkins, John wiping his beard while coughing slightly. Both of them look at you and nod, traces of laughter and surprise on their face as you glower back at them before going back to your drink.

All four of them are very surprised at your outburst, knowing how you normally ignore passes like that to you. You don't know it yet, but you've now incited Johnny and Kyle into riling you up. John and Simon chuckle to themselves, enjoying your display of temper. All four are wondering how it is like to be with you, anticipating when they will get to see more of you out of your shell. If this is just one shard that came out, they can't wait to see more.

~~~

I feel kinda embarrassed because I've actually never written a fic or drabble before