#talk about breath work 😮‍💨

[tobbesdiscordkitten]

Pretty Tied Up - Live in Tokyo (1992)

[alexispunkkk]

the giver

- pairing: joel x reader x tommy

- summary: the ‘sweetheart’ of jackson has both the miller brothers wrapped around her finger—and they’re ready to take what she’s willing to give

- warnings: sex, threesome (m/m/f), rough sex, oral (m receiving), hair pulling, light spanking, cum eating/swallowing, sort of cucking, alcohol consumption, manhandling, creampie, light fingering, joel lovessss ass, kissing, neck kissing, thigh riding, orgasms

- word count: 10.3k 😮‍💨😮‍💨

very roughly inspired by the song ‘the giver’ by chappell roan…. writing that as i forgot about it being the inspo a third of the way through

on ao3

masterlist

Being the sweetheart of Jackson comes with its perks. 

You’re not one to join patrol shifts. Not one to dig perimeter trenches or be on the lookout for infected or raiders in the distance. Hell, you barely raise your voice in town, and folks just seem to gravitate to you.

Not once have you had any real work to do like everyone else–you sit and look pretty while the world is practically in flames around you. The comfortable town of Jackson keeps you safe from the apocalyptic world outside, and it’s virtually all you know now. Just sunsets dusted over the sky like gold, wooden porches, horses, movies every Friday night. 

It’s never too serious with you, and that’s how you like to keep it. You have the freedom to head out to bars and drink your heart away, sing alone and spend your time however you like it.

Nobody expects much out of you. You’re always in your pretty cowboy boots and tiny tanks, glossed lips, baking for your neighbors and planting flowers.

Maybe it’s your baking. Sugar-dusted pies and muffins that everyone swears are to die for. Or maybe the wildflowers you insist on planting on wooden walkways to bring pops of color to the town saddened by the reality of the outbreak. Or, it could be your smile–looking stitched by sunlight, a certain sweetness that can only come with a warning. 

The rumors say you came from a QZ in Colorado, wearing boots too clean for the end of the world. Some women are skeptical, but many of the men in town are stunned. Two, in particular. They’re wrapped around your pretty finger.

And you, on the other hand, don’t care. You wear that sneaky smile proudly and walk around Jackson calling everyone ‘darling.’ Handing out cookies to children, making friends with the community’s animals alongside Ellie, and sending an occasional wink to the many older and married men of the little ‘commie’ town. Cowboys are a favorite of yours.

You don’t normally need a map to find trouble–or to find men. They find you, and you hear it in the boots clacking on porches and smell it in the sweat and whiskey of Saturday night bonfires. 

You’ve learned how to read a glance. To read pauses, sense held breaths. Quite familiarized with stares.

It’s in your nature. 

So, you sit and look pretty on a daily basis, humming along to old country songs with the warmest voice and making your rounds. While you don’t have your own job, you seem to always help everyone else. You’re a giver. 

When a job needs to be done, they know they can call you. 

And that’s why everyone seems so devout to you–Jackson’s angel and heartbreaker all at once. 

Tommy Miller, though, is a flirt. The man could sweet talk a bloater if he thought it’d wink back. The kind that talks to anything that breathes–but in an effective manner. 

He’s attractive. A smile that belongs on a billboard and the warmest laugh ever that makes women peek over their shoulders. Lucky for Jackson, there weren’t many billboards left–so Tommy’s handsome face is kept safe in the borders of the town. 

And unlucky for you, the man knows how to work that charm a little too well. Often in your direction.

A walking distraction dressed in boots and a perfect Southern twang, he carries himself well despite going through hell–still comes out the other side with a wink and the occasional joke. Where his brother, Joel, is more silence and tension, Tommy is easy laughter and a lazy arm slung around your waist. Before you can even realize he’s too close. 

He always seems to be smiling, even if his mouth physically isn’t.

And it’s unfair. It makes you forget what you’re doing. What day it is. Your own name.

Tommy’s hair is always a little tousled by the wind, messy like he’d just taken off a hat or came in from a horse ride. His tan and freckled face seems to season him, and he wears it proudly. Comfortably. He’s gorgeous.

Strong, sure, after years of patrol and learning to fend and survive after the outbreak. But he doesn’t wear it. He’s laid back, like he’s not trying to intimidate, like he’s so casual and comfortable in his own skin that he doesn’t feel the need to flaunt. He’s the embodiment of warmth wrapped into a gorgeous body of a man–steady hands and touches.

An occasional shoulder bump, knee grazing yours under the table. Even his arm slung around your shoulders while he plants a wet kiss on your rosy cheek during a bonfire. Each touch lingers just enough to make you wonder whether or not he meant it, or if he’s just that friendly.

Joel, on the other hand, is a harder read. 

Tommy is all sunshine stirred into sawdust, and Joel is dusk. Slower movements, eyes that see more than he lets on–he doesn’t say as much as his brother. He’s older, and you can tell. You sometimes see him holding the small of his back when he stands up or hear the crack of his knees when he leans down.

And when he does talk, it’s usually gruffer and quieter. About something pragmatic, not flirtatious in the slightest.

He fixes fences, carries crates by, drops things off you don’t ask for with a small “figured you could use it.”

Not much for compliments.

But he watches, and you enjoy that. The quiet is nice sometimes in contrast to Tommy’s outward flirtation and neverending sweet talk. From across the town square, behind his guitar, over the rim of his coffee mug at his favorite diner in Jackson–he’s always just there. Watching.

Noticing you. The feeling of his dark eyes burning into you makes the rest of the world go quiet, even managing to mute a drunk Tommy on saturday nights. 

Joel has the raw and rough kind of beauty that also doesn’t flaunt itself, but creeps up on you. Broad hands, calloused and rough and capable from years of both contracting and fighting infected. His forearms are tanned from work, sleeves always pushed up to keep out of the way. A salt-and-pepper scruff covering his jaw that doesn’t behave very well, and his hair always sloppily pushed back with his hand.

Compared to Tommy, it’s like he doesn’t own a mirror. Rugged and hardened and messy but so, so gorgeous. Carries himself like a man. The most masculine you’ve ever seen. Big frame, thick and warm like a large space heater. Makes you wonder if all of him is that big. 

He’s older, but not in a way that makes him seem out of place. More like he’s earned the scars and little creaks and marks dug into the crevices of his handsome face. He looks like a fighter and still doesn’t deserve to rest, like he’s carrying something you can’t figure out.

And his voice–god–his voice. Gravelly, but smooth and bourbon-like, hiding something a little dangerous beneath it’s drawl. Everything about him gets to you. The way he keeps greater distance, doesn’t flirt. He doesn’t let himself get close like his brother does, but it ruins you even more. 

So you flirt a little more with Tommy when Joel’s around. Maybe you like watching him try not to look. 

Yes, ma’am. No, darlin.’ 

Their matching Texan accents ring in your head, drawing you to them while you head out in Jackson with an unsurprising batch of cookies–baked to perfection and nestled in tupperware–in your arms. 

The sun today is high, but not cruel, casting a warmth over the town that makes it look as golden and sugary as the pies you normally whip up. Kids are running barefoot down the road while their fathers work on splitting wood. Someone is playing their radio out of an open window. 

You can hear the faint and tinny country music over the hum of townspeople going about their normal afternoon routines. Taking your time for a nice stroll, you have an apron tied around your waist and maybe a hint of flour streaked across your denim-clad thigh. Like your badge of honor.

And, like always, you’re not in a rush. What’s the rush when there's a dozen voices calling out to you when you pass by the men working? 

“Smells like cinnamon again.” One calls out, giving you a charming smirk while obnoxiously chewing on his gum. Hot.

You laughed, but waved them off. Okay, maybe you gave him a wink.

But it’s just a batch of cookies, nothing too fancy. Chocolate chip with a sprinkle of coarse sea salt on top for the added flavor: your signature. You’re not trying to cause a stir, it just comes to you. People happen to notice when you walk by, smelling of baked goods and looking like the sweetest girl Wyoming has ever seen. 

And then, like an answer to a distant prayer, there he is. Your favorite of Jackson’s men. 

Tommy Miller, shirt half unbuttoned and clinging to his broad chest and shoulder blades with streaks of sweat. He’s standing in the gravel yard beside a pile of fresh cut logs. An axe in one hand and a rag in the other.

He’s mid-wiping the sweat off his forehead when he catches sight of you, dragging it along the back of his neck right after while he presents his usual ever-charming smile. Cheeky, but slow. And so, so handsome. 

Normally, you just shoot him a smile and offer a small glance up and down–occasionally narrowing in on his crotch. So you do the same–smile, wave, move on with your day. 

“Hey, hold on.” This time, his voice pulls you back. Easy, like he doesn’t want the moment to end quite yet. Needs a good look at you, a taste of the cookies you’re holding. Maybe of something else. 

He seems to take interest in the outfit under your apron when you stop: a pretty little white tank made of cotton and decorated with innocent lace. Big jeans held up by a dark cherry-colored red belt, matching maroon cowgirl boots thrown on your feet. And maybe he wants to know if what you’re wearing underneath would match the so-perfectly planned boots and belt technique. 

He doesn’t move, not really. One hand is still resting on the axe handle, the other now supporting his weight against the chopping block. Leaned over and propped up on his hand, shamelessly checking you out. Sweaty. Gorgeous. 

“You in a rush? He smiles, tilting his head just slightly to the left.

“Uh-uh. Not unless there’s a line somewhere waiting on these cookies.” 

You giggle and lift the tupperware, showing off the newest batch of everyone’s favorite sweets. Better than the bakery’s, that’s for sure. Your smile distracts him for a second, the pretty gloss pasted over your lips luring him in like a siren.

Tommy chuckles, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek. Kind of makes him look like an asshole. But you like it. 

“As far as I know, I’m the only one who should be getting a fresh one.” He raises his eyebrows, letting go of the chopping block of wood and setting his trusty axe down. He steps closer, resting his thick fingers on the lid of the container.

“Please?” 

He looks down at you, a manipulative smirk crossing his face. His gaze is switching between your face–your lips, eyes, freckled skin–to the batch of cookies you’re supporting. Almost begging.

When he moves closer, you catch a whiff of his scent. Most people wouldn’t exactly enjoy the smell of a man’s sweat after chopping wood for an hour in the summer, wearing a long sleeve shirt, but something about it is alluring to you. Anything that relates to masculinity is alluring to you, really. Musk and the faint scent of cedar from his cologne that was barely holding on but also accentuated by the aroma of the wood surrounding you.

“Fine. One.” You give in to that smile, any woman would. Stepping back, you set the container down on a nearby block of wood, crouching down next to it. You flick your hair back and Tommy is soon gazing at your profile now, the way you bite your lip in focus to get a cookie out for him. Also, the way your ass looks when you crouch down in the dust like that.

You grab one with a napkin, shutting the lid and standing back up to return to him.

“Here. Guess you’re special today. These are actually meant for the preschool.” 

Tommy looks at you for a moment, and this time, his flirting is a little quieter. Muted. Softer. “Special? Not sure I’ve heard that one before.”

You roll your eyes, handing him the warm treat carefully before crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Then nobody’s been looking close enough.” You snort, motioning for him to try the cookie. Your words shut him up for a second, eyes flicking up and down as if deciding something. Looking for the right kind of words.

But he ignores the feeling, taking a big bite of the cookie. You watch his lips as his teeth sink down into the dessert, the way his tongue darts out to clean the crumbs off his bottom lip while he chews. 

And, as usual, his face displays his reaction to the taste shamelessly. He leans his head back, the cookie eliciting a small groan of pleasure from the back of his throat. His head bobs up and down with a nod of approval, of complete satisfaction at the taste of a single bite.

Upon swallowing, he looks down at the treat in his hand and grumbles in delight. “Mmhm. Sweetheart, that’s it. You’ve mastered it this time.”

His reaction is a little dramatic, but it makes you laugh. Makes you proud. Draws out that sweet giggle of yours that he loves so much, which makes him proud in return. 

“It’s the same recipe as always. I did not master it, sweetheart.” You answer, playfully mocking the nickname he likes to use on you. Something about the way that Tommy is an expert flirt changes the way you flirt back. You don’t go easy on him, you’re a little ruder with it–sassy. 

“Yeah, sweetheart. You did.” He rolls his eyes dramatically and mocks back, expression quickly changing back to an amused grin. He finishes the cookie in two short bites, stuffing his face and rubbing the crumbs off on his thighs. 

You go back to the block of wood to pick up your cookies so you can carry on with your day, but Tommy follows. He steps right behind you, wrapping a warm and rough hand around your wrist before you can pick up the container. 

“Hey–hey.” He stops you with a laugh, making your head turn to look up at him. 

You try your best to seem annoyed, but it’s all performative. Really, you’d stay here as long as he wanted. Stay and watch him chop wood, feed him cookies to his heart’s desire. 

“One more. C’mon.” Tommy grins, holding a hand out so you bless him with another. 

“No, Tommy.” You groan, keeping your hands on the container to ensure it stays shut and he doesn’t cheat you for more treats. “They’re for the kids. I’m not gonna keep giving away my cookies to a grown ass man. You had one.”

He grumbles like a petulant child, pouting down at you. It’s annoying, but a little funny. Makes you want to give in and give him all the desserts in the world.

“It’s not for me,” he starts explaining, shaking his head in protest. “For Joel. He’s on patrol, I’m sure he’d appreciate a little snack when he returns.”

The fact that it’s for Joel makes you a little more receptive to the idea. You’re a sucker for that man, for whatever reason. And, unluckily for you, Tommy knows that. Joel Miller is your weakness.

You sigh, shaking your head and slowly opening the container back up. Tommy grins at the sight of the lid coming up and your hand reaching in for a second.

“Atta’girl.” His hand lands on the small of your back while you’re leaned over to get Joel’s treat, a warm presence that brings a flush up your neck and ears. Tommy’s always been a touchy one, especially in comparison to his brother. He loves to swing an arm around your shoulder and ruffle your hair whenever he can. Loves to say things like ‘atta’girl’ and ‘good job’ to watch how you get as red as a tomato.

Once the cookie is wrapped up in a napkin and kept safe in his pocket for Joel, he straightens his back and lets you stand back up, removing his hand from your spine. He rubs the back of his neck, something that would seem sheepish if it was anyone else. But on Tommy, it seems practiced. Like he knows just how to make you wanna lean in even more. 

“Speaking of him,” he starts, pointedly. “There’s a bonfire tonight. Out past the paddock fence.” 

You nod, knowing of it–you’re planning on going already, actually, but you listen anyway.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Couple folks are bringin’ instruments. Drinks and whatnot. I might even get Joel to bring out his old guitar.” 

You lift an eyebrow in intrigue, especially by the sound of Joel bringing out his guitar. You’d love to hear him play–love to see his big fingers work the chords and strings under the light of a fire. 

“You’re working real hard to make it sound casual, Tommy.” You giggle and tilt your head, finally picking up the container of cookies once and for all. 

He snorts and shakes his head, wiping the sweat dripping down the back of his neck again. It catches your attention, distracting you, drawing you to the sight of little beads against his hot, tanned skin. 

He gives you a crooked, stupid grin. “Yeah, well. I ain’t askin’ the whole town if they’re going. Just you.”

Your heart does the little thing–not jumping, not exactly skipping. But warming up. By the idea of Tommy only asking you about the bonfire. Like he wants you there. It felt like settling into a chair that feels just right.

You let your gaze drift down to the sweat-streaked white shirt clinging to his shoulders and the way the sun is catching on his temples. The crumb of the cookie still left on the corner of his mouth. Hell, he could be selling sins door-to-door and you’d still buy it. Of course you wanna go.

“I was already planning on going. But since you’re asking so sweetly…” You start, drawing out the words teasingly. 

“That a yes?” He perks up, the grin on his handsome face growing exponentially. 

“I guess so. Depends. Will you save me a seat with you and your brother?” You grin and lean back, fingers drumming against the tupperware in your arms. 

Tommy nods obediently, crossing his arms over his chest. They look big that way, especially when the sweat seeps through the white shirt he’s wearing and makes it a little see-through. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

Fuck, that always gets you weak. Being called ma’am–by none other than Tommy Miller, in particular, has you aching. The things you would do to hear that in a not-so-innocent context invade your mind. 

“M’kay. As long as you two behave–and don’t talk through all the music–I’ll be there. See you tonight, Miller.”

You lift the tupperware in a little sort of a wave, sauntered off before he can even say anything else. Left with the little cookie in his pocket saved for Joel. Oh, it’s gonna be a long night. He’s in trouble. 

Later that night, the sun starts to dip low and spill gold light into your kitchen window. That sweet, syrupy light that makes your skin glow. Makes you wanna dance in the kitchen and mess around.

You spent the day baking and then handing out cookies to the kids at Jackson’s preschool–it was adorable. But now, you’re getting ready for a night of drinking by a fire. A self-proclaimed “date” with both of the Miller brothers at once. With the town’s two hottest and beaten up men. 

You’re standing barefoot in front of the mirror, one boot on while you weigh the options. Black, brown, or red? The outfit you settled for was a tiny old denim skirt held low on your hips and supported with the same belt as earlier. Paired with a little red gingham top you’d stitched yourself from scraps.

It was only the right option because it hugs your waist perfectly and clings to your chest, enough to surely make Tommy lose his train of thought mid conversation. 

As hard as you tried to tell yourself this should just be another normal night, another bonfire, another excuse to laugh and drink with friends–it isn’t. You know why you’re going. You’re going to get drunk and mess with two brothers to the best of your ability. Fuck it. 

Tugging a brush through your hair and letting it fall around your shoulder in lazy curls, not too fussy, you stared in the mirror. A dull red lipstick painted over your lips, highlighted by a smooth cherry-flavored gloss. Vanilla perfume on your wrists, lotioned legs–you smell as sweet as the cookies from earlier. Maybe Joel and Tommy would want a bite of you instead.

Sure, the world is over outside of Jackson. But tucked safely in the town, your biggest worry is how good you look tonight. And which brother you’d choose. Or if you’re even going to settle for one.

Your mind drifted as you put on all your jewelry.

Tommy. Sweet-talking and warmed from years in the sun. The biggest flirt you know. He makes you feel like the only woman in the room, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. There’s something so easy about him, which makes you feel comfortable. 

He’s never boring, just familiar. Worn-in and all feel-good. 

The only issue with Tommy is his flirtatious nature. Sure, it works on you, and makes you feel seen. But if he’s that good with his words, touch, and eyes, he must have too much experience. You’re sure he sweet talks every single woman in this town the same way he does with you, which makes you uneasy. 

He flirts and doesn’t try to hide it. Makes it clear as day that he wants you. But might also want other women, so you’re not sure if he’s the perfect choice. 

Then there's Joel. 

Quieter, broader, and stiller. Doesn’t flirt or talk you up the way his brother does, but hovers. Makes you feel pretty with his eyes rather than his words. 

He looks for too long, staring at you, whether you’re paying attention or not. His rougher voice settles low in your stomach when he speaks, smoke curling around your ribs and heating up your insides–all the way into your cervix, actually. 

He’s much harder to pin down and slower to trust, but Lord, he’s worth the chase. You just know it. 

Something about the fact that he makes it so much harder to tell if he wants you than Tommy arouses you. The slow burn of it all, confusion at each of his lingering glances. It gets you wondering, which eventually leaves you more hot and bothered than Tommy can get you. If Joel’d ever let himself get closer, he’d hold on tighter than his brother can. 

Tommy is more a sunrise and Joel is a storm on the horizon. But they’re both fucking beautiful and dangerous, all at the same time. 

You tap on your bottom lip in the mirror’s reflection, weighing the options. Most days, you don’t let the thought linger for two long. Jackson is small and gossip gets around quick, and you don’t want to ruin the existing flirtatious friendship with one brother and the stolen glances you exchange with the other.

Truth be told, most men wouldn’t be able to handle it very well if they were to find out that one woman was sharing attention with both him and his brother. 

But, fuck, the idea of it?

Two men, both strong and stubborn and so big. So much bigger than you. Older, beaten by years of working. They’re burdened, and it makes them hotter to you in some sick way. 

One with charm and one with intense heat, both circling you as if wanting to worship you and warn you off at the same time. What would it feel like to be in the middle of that want–to have Tommy’s hot breath and mouth on your neck and Joel’s big hands holding your hips down?

You exhale, slow and deliberate. Your thighs squeeze together and you allow yourself a single quiet smirk in the mirror. 

No harm in thinking of it, right? After all, tonight’s just a bonfire. A little whiskey and music and possibly a seat between the Miller brothers on a bench. Not so bad.

So, you settle on the red boots. They match your belt and lipstick, after all. Lacing them up and giving yourself a last look, you head out. 

The supposed ‘sweetheart’ of Jackson, ready to stir up trouble and, hopefully, have her way with at least one brother. 

Later that night, you arrive just past nine. The bonfire is crackling tall and bright, its flames licking up at the starry sky. The scent of smoke curls through the air, sweetened by sap and pine of the surrounding forest. The low hum of voices–and a guitar being tuned–fills the space.

Tommy catches your eye first, sitting on a hay bale near the fire with one boot planted in the dirt and the other propped up on a small stump. He smiles, not flashy this time, but warm. Warmer than the fire, warmer than the heat beginning to return to your belly.

He knows exactly who you’re here to see. 

Joel’s nearby, hiding more out in the corner, further from the fire. He’s tuning his guitar held across his lap, catching sight of you. 

The signature look. He doesn’t smile or wave yet, just lips tightening in a greeting as he holds your gaze. Enough to make your breath catch in your chest. He looks back down like it’s nothing, deciding the strings of his old guitar need more attention than you do. 

Fair enough, you’re already getting enough in that little outfit. From the men around the fire–Tommy, obviously.

You make your way over with a friendly smile, the firelight catching on your smooth bare legs. The glint of your lip gloss and shine of your hair not going unnoticed by the first brother. 

“C’mere. Finally made it!” Tommy pats the spot next to him, thigh brushing yours while you sit. His gaze is quickly drawn to your lap, how short the skirt is–low on your waist but still only mere inches away from exposing your panties. 

The warmth of the fire pressing on the two of you and making his skin glow more than it already does feels good, settling the moment into something comfortable. The familiar hum of the forest at night around you, all of your friends and neighbors gathered around the fire. 

“I did make it. Can’t deny an invite from you.” You flash a smile back at Tommy, already entirely turned toward his body. With a little bit of whiskey on his breath and a more relaxed outfit now, he seems even more genial to see you tonight. 

“Yeah? He chuckles, lifting the hand that isn’t occupied with a bottle to settle it on your thigh. Your smooth, shaven, and moisturized patch of skin that’s all free for him to touch. The bonfire is heating your skin up, and so is Tommy’s touch, making you feel like you’re truly on fire.

“You look good, though. I’m likin’ the gingham on you.” He nods casually, moving the hand up to toy with the bow on the straps of the top. “Lookin’ like a little cowgirl. Would never guess you’re not from the South.”

His voice is so sweet and lazy, more laid back than normally, most likely due to the bottle of whiskey in his other hand. 

“Made this top myself,” you answer, stealing the bottle from his hand and taking a long swig. The feeling of it burns your throat, makes you almost sputter. You’re still so young compared to Tommy, and the intolerance to the strong alcohol reminds him of the fact.

He raises his eyebrows, shifting to face you more, forgetting entirely about the fire and his brother thirty feet away, tuning away at a guitar. 

“Looks real good. I like it.” He takes the bottle back and drinks, slowly, before setting it down on the ground in front of the hay bale. “Almost didn’t recognize you without the apron and all the flour on your jeans.”

That makes you giggle. Of course you’re known to everyone in Jackson as the sweet girl who bakes, constantly lost in a cloud of flour and never seen without an apron. Valid comment.

“Is that a compliment or an insult, Miller? 

“Both,” he chuckles and leans his head back to gaze down your body again, eyes narrowing down on your chest–the way the homemade shirt squeezes your breasts together perfectly. With the way you’re sitting, he’s got a great view down your chest. And you certainly notice–but, obviously, don’t mind. You’re not one to dislike attention.

The whiskey is rough but sweet, lighting your stomach up, and it slowly brings everything around you into a softer blur. The music presses pause on the rest of the world when Joel starts playing his guitar. Low and easy, something old and slow that sinks into your skin.

Everyone quiets down a tiny bit and limits their conversation as Joel gets up and moves closer. Inevitably, he comes right over, plopping down and sandwiching you between you and his brother. 

The weight of the two men on your sides is two very different kinds of attention. Tommy’s is neverending, letting you know how he feels. His hand gravitated back to your thigh possessively when Joel sat down, silently pulling your leg against his.

And Joel’s was muted. Barely looking, focused on his guitar. But every chance he got to look away, it drifted toward your lap with his brother’s hand resting on it. If the guitar wasn’t strewn across his body and covering him, it’d be hard to miss the tent forming over his crotch. 

The conversations around you died down to a low whisper, leaving you able to soak up Tommy’s touch and Joel’s music. His fingers stretched out on your thigh while he let out a satisfied sigh, lazy and confident and familiar on the skin. 

He’d occasionally lean in, whispering all up close in your ear–on purpose, obviously. His breath is warm and smells of the whiskey and faintly of a cigarette he must’ve smoked before you showed up. His touch is unmoving, keeping you grounded by his side like you’re his. 

His whispers are a random assortment, making you laugh and quiver all at once. He’d mention something stupid, like making fun of someone across the fire, or he’d lean in and remind you how good your tits look in that little top. 

Joel’s playing slowed after a while, then stopped altogether. When he sets his guitar aside without ceremony the conversations pick up around you again.

You can finally take a breath as Tommy backs up and it isn’t as quiet anymore. But within seconds, it all gets more intense. Joel finally lets himself lean in and speak, smelling dangerously of cedar and something darker. 

His thigh brushes yours, jaw clenching when he gives you a polite nod. 

“Cookie was good earlier. Tommy gave it to me when I got back.”

You don’t even register what he’s talking about for a moment, awfully distracted by the feel of both their thighs pressing into the sides of yours, especially when accompanied by Tommy’s hand that seems to keep moving higher and higher. 

“Oh, right. Thanks.” For a girl who’s normally confident, you choke up a little. Tommy laughs to himself, covering his mouth and letting his thumb rub the inside skin of your thigh. 

Fuck, they’re actually getting you nervous. This isn’t what you planned for. You turn to look at Joel upon sensing he’s gonna speak again, the slow pull of attraction tightening in your belly. 

But he whispers, glancing at Tommy leaning back with his hand splayed so intimately on your leg.

“You’re lettin’ my brother get real close tonight, huh?”

He questions, finally letting on a small smirk. He’s fucking into this. They planned this. And you’re only just now realizing.

It overwhelms you, but it makes the wetness build in your panties more than it may ever have before. The idea that the two brothers actually discussed this beforehand–sharing you–gets you weak. 

“Pretty dangerous sittin’ between us like this.” Tommy interrupts before you can respond to Joel, making your head snap back around to him. You almost let out a nervous whimper, you can’t even register what’s happening. But somehow, you’re into it. You let it happen.

“Okay? I like it here.” You manage out with a gulp, eyes trained on Tommy before his brother’s hand lands on your other thigh. Still sassy. Both of them tighten their grips, squeezing at the supple flesh shamelessly as if you’re not all in public right now.

Too gone to care.

Joel snorts, shaking his head, and you look over at him now. He’s smiling, which isn’t too common of a sight. Must really be satisfied with their work right now.

“Careful what you ask for, baby.” He whispers and strokes your skin, hand moving up and down tantalizingly. You don’t know who to look at. Hell, you don’t actually know what you just asked for. 

The moment goes entirely silent, the three of you exchanging glances. You–confused, but into it. The two men–seemingly have practiced this scenario millions of times before actually illustrating it. 

Tommy’s watching you with a little half-smile, like he’s been waiting for this moment for longer than either of them would like to admit. His gaze zeroes in on your chest yet again, almost predatorily. Then, to Joel–his gaze is unreadable but filled with more desire than you’d like to imagine.

It hits you. Not fear or nerves, but want. This isn’t something to be scared of. Fuck, you were hoping for it in your bedroom while you were getting ready. You wore this outfit just for the hopes of this happening. Said ‘fuck it,’ so why would you be afraid?

In return, you let your hands rest on both of theirs, fingers trailing lightly over their knuckles. Your thumbs brush their skin, and nobody moves. The fire crackles and everyone nearby is laughing, drinking, and–most importantly–distracted. 

As if reading your mind, Tommy leans in. 

“We could get outta here,” he whispers, almost too casual. “Back to mine. Joel’s. Yours. Wherever you want.”

Your eyes flicker up to his, licking your lips and letting the overwhelming desire shine through once he essentially confirms what’s about to happen. 

“Only if you want to.” Joel adds, ever the gentleman compared to his brother.

Their hands slide a little higher on your thigh, wanting and ready, and nothing else is exchanged but a quiet nod of approval from you.

Yet again, you’re the one left breathless. 

The next thing you know, you’re at Joel’s, laid out on his bed like prey. 

His place wasn’t far from the bonfire, a quiet little house on the edge of Jackson, tucked behind fencing and lots of trees. Quiet in the same way he is. You’ve been here before, dropping off food or supplies, but never like this. Never with your heart thumping this hard, two sets of heavy footsteps made by boots following behind you, two sets of warm hands ready to explore you and converge the different flavors of need in one space. 

Joel opened the door without second-guessing anything, no more ‘are you sure?’ The two men gave you a look for confirmation when you reached the bedroom, and that’s all they needed. You, on the other hand, didn’t even have to answer.

Inside his house is warm, very lived-in. Very Joel. An old lamp in the corner and a woodworking table in the living room where he carves little animals and whatnot. He walks ahead, dropping his guitar in its case by the couch while Tommy peels off his jacket and throws it mindlessly on the floor. 

You stood quietly for a second to process, and they both just looked at you. The air shifts, thick. So, so heated.

And this time, the older brother moves first–stepping close once you’re in his bedroom. You don’t stop him. His hand comes to your waist, rough and solid, checking one last time that you’re still good with a raise of his eyebrows.

You nod wordlessly, and Joel lifts you up by the waist.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear before tossing you gently onto the bed. Neither of them took the time to get their boots off–or yours. Nothing stopping the three of you.

He climbs over you while Tommy stands back for a bit to watch. In seconds, you feel the first pair of lips on yours–firm and grounding. One big hand on the back of your neck, the other slipping underneath you to the small of your back, pulling you up against him as if he needs it. 

Joel tastes amazing. Darker than you imagine Tommy will. More tobacco, stronger liquor. 

Tommy steps forward finally, climbing onto the bed next to the two of you and smoothing a hand over your hip. While his brother is on top of you, kissing you, he waits his turn and instead lets his lips brush your shoulder. 

Their energy is different, obviously, but they move together in harmony. Joel is slower, more intense, seemingly controlling the moment. Tommy is more free and tactical, his touch lighter but never giving up. 

And you let yourself be used. 

Growing up as brothers, they had to learn to share. And, naturally, they carried that ability into adulthood. So Joel gets off, freeing your body to his brother.

Tommy laughs, diving right in and attaching his lips to yours. It’s softer but more playful, like you don’t have to take him seriously in the way you just had to with Joel. He encourages you with his hands on your waist, squeezing and tickling at your sides teasingly.

“Tommy,” you gasp and giggle, leaning your head back and breaking the kiss. 

“What?” He chuckles in return, peppering the kisses down your chin and to your neck, focusing on the soft area just beneath your ear. That way, when he whispers, it feels even better.

You don’t respond, laughing and laying back while he works at your neck so perfectly. Everything is revolving around you right now. They just want to give you everything. 

In minutes, you’re forgetting where you are, overwhelmed by the feeling of not one, but two sets of hands exploring you and worshipping you in every way possible. 

“Pretty little thing,” Tommy would laugh, sitting up and tangling his hand in your hair to give it a tug.

Joel was more quiet, but still whispered little instructions. He was more of a guidance while his brother was the fun part: both necessary in the moment. 

“C’mere,” Joel whispered, moving back on the bed after you all actually took the moment to remove your shoes. He sits back against the headboard and pillows, spreading his meaty thighs and patting the right one. He pulls you into his lap, wrapping a hand around your waist to get you nice and close. 

You comply, climbing right up and settling yourself on his thigh–legs spread and straddling his denim-clad leg. You’re surely leaking and making a mess on it, your skirt pushed up to your waist. 

Joel’s head dips down, nose brushing your jaw while he murmurs and begins to guide your hips. 

“Good girl. C’mon, you can move, sweet girl.” He manages out, hoarsely, with a bite at your sensitive earlobe. It makes you shudder, following his orders and shifting your hips.

The feeling of his jeans pressed against your clothed pussy elicit quiet gasps from your lips, leaning in and resting your head on his shoulder. He keeps an arm wrapped around you, grounding you against him and ensuring you feel safe while getting off on his thigh like this.

By the foot of the bed, Tommy is forgotten now while Joel’s scent and touch invades your brain. He’s fine with waiting his turn, though. He undoes the buckle of his belt, the clank of metal not disturbing you and his brother.

Discarding his jeans, Tommy pulls himself out of his boxers shamelessly, unable to help himself. He’s been hard since you sat down with him at the bonfire in that pretty outfit. Hell, since he saw you earlier today and you gave him a cookie. 

He begins to stroke himself–one hand moving up and down the shaft, stretching himself, while the other rests under his balls and gently tugs at them to heighten the pleasure. His eyes are trained on the way your hips move back and forth on Joel’s leg, the small wet patch he can see forming on the denim fabric, even through your panties.

“She looks so good on you like that, doesn’t she?” Tommy groans, thumb brushing over the tip of his own cock while his brother nods. 

“Mm–real pretty.” Joel grumbles, leaning back and letting his head hit the wall when you let out a particularly pretty little moan. His big hands come back to your waist, squeezing it and holding you tight to guide you in a slower rhythm.

You whine, opening your eyes back up to look into his. Eyebrows furrowing, you pout and try to speed up again.

“Baby,” Joel chuckles, squeezing you harder to keep you in place, to keep you going the speed he wants you to. “Gotta slow down for me, yeah? Be good. Take it slow, relax.”

His words are meant to be soothing and encouraging, but the low tone of his voice that gets you so wet only makes it all worse.

“Want–wanna go faster. Please, Joel.” You whimper, trying to rut your hips and speed up the agonizingly slow pace he’s got you going at. “Feels good.”

“I know, I know it feels good.” He sighs, giving up for now and letting you do it how you want to. Tommy laughs from across the bed, amusement and arousal all wrapped into one while he jerks himself off to the sight of you and his brother. 

Joel only lets you get off on his thigh for maybe a generous twenty seconds before lifting you up, patting your ass in the process. The pressure was building in your belly, tiring you out, making you feel so good. You were approaching an orgasm in a short time, motivated by the arousal the scene itself produced in your brain, but soon were stopped by his big hands. 

“Joel.” You frown, writhing on the bed and reaching down to touch yourself instead when he sets you down. 

Tommy sits up, abandoning his achingly hard cock, crawling up to you and grabbing at your wrist. 

“Uh-uh. Don’t gotta do that, angel.” He laughs, collecting both of your wrists in one hand and pushing them back. You’re pinned down and whining under him, but eventually give up protesting when you remember it's you versus two–very, very large–men. 

He passes your wrists to Joel, who holds them with even more ease due to the size of his hands. 

“Let’s make sure Tommy gets some lovin’ too, sweet girl.” Joel kisses you once, a soft peck, holding you down for a moment to let his brother get settled. Both of you watch as Tommy fully discards his boxers, stripping off his shirt and socks in the process until he’s entirely bare.

The man is a work of art. Tanned skin, some sun damage from always working outside–little spots all over his body, and freckles. He’s covered in hair, which you’d always expected due to the thick head of it he carries. 

His lower stomach, especially. It’s got the most gorgeous spread of tiny hairs leading to something even more beautiful–thick and wiry. Not graying just yet. His cock is long but thin, already red and twitching from jerking himself off to the sight of you just a couple minutes ago. The fat tip of it is leaking desperately, just begging to be treated.

Tommy lays back, seated against the headboard like Joel was, his legs spread out wide. His head tips back lazily, sinking into the bed and patting his thighs. 

Joel lets your wrists go, and you’re lunging forward like an animal in seconds. His thick, hairy thighs open to accommodate you while you kneel between them on the bed. 

“Nice n’ big.” You whisper and giggle, hands on his thighs while you sort of nestle your head down for now. Nuzzling into his crotch, you worship Tommy’s cock–nose exploring every crevice, tongue darting out under his heavy balls. 

He moans out quietly, hand finding your hair before you even begin and wrapping it up into a tight makeshift ponytail. 

“Look at you, baby.” Tommy praises, lifting his hips up to encourage you to take him. You were resting your head on his thigh and taking a moment, but the sight of him literally aching for you has you moving quickly. 

You grab the base of his cock, giving it a slight squeeze to draw more noises out of the man. Satisfied by a little grunt, you snicker and open your mouth, taking his tip into it eagerly.

“Fuck.” He jolts, head tipping back and eyes shutting happily. You focus on only the tip for a moment, swirling your tongue around the head and collecting the embarrassing amount of precum before sinking your head down and taking as much of his length as you can.

You sputter for a moment, just as you did earlier on the whiskey, but regain your bearings and start to move. His tip is hitting the back of your throat as if urging you to take more, but you physically can’t. He’s so big,

Tommy’s hand tightens in your hair, a little rude with the way he’s tugging and forcing your head down. 

“Jesus, Tommy.” Joel interrupts after watching carefully for a few moments. “Careful with ‘er. She’s gonna gag.”

The older brother’s hand comes to your back, gently stroking it to keep you grounded while his brother forces your head down on his cock. Tommy doesn’t mind too much, easing up on the pushing but not entirely stopping. He’s always been much less of a gentleman.

“You’re okay, angel. Go slow if you have to.” Joel whispers to you, patting your back before standing up and discarding his own clothes. You hear the sound of fabric and a belt hitting the floor, and want nothing more than to look.

But you can’t, because his brother is holding your head down on his dick. It’s not all bad, though. You’re still eagerly taking it, hollowing your cheeks and sucking him with near-perfect technique. He’s very vocal, noisily encouraging you to somehow work him even better.

The mattress sinks as Joel returns from undressing, and while you can’t see, you feel where he’s going. While your head is buried between Tommy’s thighs, Joel gently unfolds your body and pulls your skirt off for you, leaving you in pretty panties and that damn gingham top.

He smiles, stretching the elastic of your underwear and letting it snap back against your skin. You gasp.

“Tommy, look at this.” He rubs your ass, giving it a gentle smack, showing off the fabric. It’s little cherries over the same red gingham that your top is made of. Matching, making you look like the prettiest cowgirl they’ve ever seen.

Tommy snorts, opening his eyes and giving your head another push down on his lap at the sight.

“How cute. Bet you wore 'em just for us, ain’t that right?” He smiles and uses his free hand to cup the side of your face, stroking it with a thumb while you suck on him so perfectly. “Fuckin’ slut.” 

Joel shoots him a glance to be nice, because he’s already pushing your head down. He shouldn’t be calling you a slut like that.

“Ignore him.” He advises you, rubbing the skin of your ass that’s now pink from the little slap. He pulls at the fabric, tugging it down gently and working it over your feet before throwing them on the floor. On his way back to your ass, he kisses the back of your feet, ankles, calves, and thighs, leaving a trail of fire all the way to where he really wants to be.

His fingers go straight to the source, not even bothering to spread your legs. He digs two digits into your folds, groaning lewdly at the filthy feeling of how wet you are. Soaking his fingers, soaking the bed underneath you. Genuinely dripping for the two brothers.

“If only you could feel how wet this girl is,” Joel huffs in amusement, slipping his fingers back out and gripping the supple flesh of your ass again. The loss of touch elicits a quiet whine from the lips you have wrapped around Tommy’s cock. 

“I bet.” Tommy answers, groaning and leaning his head back yet again in pleasure when he hits particularly deep in that warm, wet mouth of yours.

Joel grabs at your body with a mix of gentleness and fervor, lifting your hips until your knees are able to support your weight. Your head is down between his brother’s legs, your back arched, and your ass in the air for him to do whatever he desires with.

He leans over you, pressing a trail of kisses down your back–the center of it. Between your shoulder blades and down your spine, while his fingers trail all over your soft skin. Exploring. Taking his time. 

He ends the trail at your back dimples, the spot where your butt and the small of your back meet. One last little kiss before he sits back up, spreading your legs just a bit so he can fit.

Once Joel ensures you’re not overwhelmed with what you’re doing with Tommy, he grabs his own cock and strokes it before gently pressing it against your ass. You moan around the other man’s length, and Joel taps him to let you have a break. 

Tommy releases his grip on your hair, gasping when your mouth comes off of him–a string of spit connects his crotch and your mouth due to the excessive slobbering you’d been doing. Dirty and beautiful.

“Fuck.” The two men say, almost in perfect unison.

You take a moment to catch your breath, glancing back at Joel behind you when you remember he’d gotten undressed.

And, lord, he’s somehow more perfect than Tommy. 

He’s built. Broad, hairy chest and a little tummy coming over his hips. Looks like he works out but certainly doesn’t deny a beer when offered. He’s hairier, even, a thicker and grayer trail leading to his pubic bone that’s pressed against your ass currently.

Older. Seemingly more experienced. He’s scarred and hardened, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. The mere sight of him makes you moan.

Both of them laugh at the little strained moan you let out, Joel’s hand rubbing your hip while Tommy’s strokes your hair. 

“You like him that much?” Tommy chuckles, kissing your forehead.

You nod mindlessly, still searching for the air you’d lost when your head was getting pushed down. 

“Mm–mmhm. Like Joel. A lot. Fuck.” You manage out, dropping your head back on Tommy’s thighs and resting it there.

Joel smirks and lets the hand on your hip travel back to your ass, rubbing it before gripping his cock and giving it a few small strokes. “Yeah, baby?”

You nod again and groan against the fatty flesh of the thigh under you, kissing his warm skin. Your hips naturally move backward when you feel movement behind you, subconsciously begging for Joel. Your back arches as well, giving him quite the sight. 

“You want it? Gonna take me good with my brother’s cock in your mouth?”

He smiles, teasing your dripping hole with his own leaking tip. Of course you want it. You’ve been dreaming of this all day–maybe even weeks before. But back then, it was a fantasy. Never a possibility in your mind. Now, you’re bent over, face down and ass up between the two of them. You couldn’t want it more. 

“Yes, please.” You gasp out, arching more and forcing your ass back against Joel’s cock. You feel him twitch.

He hums in approval, not saying anything else before lining himself up. At the feeling of him against you, you know what you’re supposed to do in return. Tommy is back in your mouth in mere seconds, and you’re sucking and slurping to the best of your ability in hopes that it’ll get you more. More of Joel. More praise. More cock.

Joel slides in once Tommy looks satisfied, slowly stretching your tight pussy out. The noises are filthy, squelching and wet. 

“Fuck–” He groans, panting and bracing himself by gripping your lower back. He isn’t even fully in yet and he’s ready to come all over you. He’s dreamed of painting you in ropes of release, of fucking you senseless and filling you up with his seed. Now it’s happening, and, God, he doesn’t know if he can even handle a minute. 

You whine around Tommy, but he doesn’t push your head down again. He knows it probably hurts a bit, given the Millers are genetically big men. They let you adjust to Joel before resuming, going nice and slow. 

“Pretty. So fuckin’ pretty, taking me this good. Just like that.” Joel becomes more vocal as he moves inside you, picking up the pace slowly, ensuring you’ve adjusted enough to take his size before doing anything you can’t handle.

The praise makes your head spin. Apparently, Tommy’s is too. You feel him twitch more in your mouth, see the way his hips are stuttering with each little bob of your head. 

So you pick up pace. And so does Joel. Everything gets more intense.

Sucking in your cheeks, you take Tommy’s cock so deep that it hits your uvula, resulting in a soft gag. His first instinct is to let you take a break, but you continue despite the tears spilling from your eyes and the urge to vomit increasing.

Your hands fiddle with his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze that draws out the loudest moan of the night from the man. Success.

If you could smile, you’d be doing it. But he’s so deep in your mouth that you can’t move a muscle–not until you feel hot strings of release fill your throat. 

You didn’t realize Tommy was that close, but he fills your mouth up more than it’s ever been stuffed. You’ve never felt a man come so hard. So much. He’s shaking as he finishes, piping it into your mouth and seeing it dribble down your chin as he pulls out.

“Ah-” he whimpers, actually whimpers, when your lips reattach to his tip to give it a final kiss. 

Joel sees his brother’s orgasm, getting a little jealous. He would give anything to be filling your pretty mouth with his come right now, cleaning it off your lips where it spills out. But he remembers he’s the one inside you, and he has a better dumpster than Tommy does right now. 

Once Tommy’s cock is removed from your mouth, he knows he can go a little harder. He wants to go a little harder. He can actually hear your pretty little moans and whimpers now that you’re not occupied. 

When Joel starts hitting your cervix, the lewd noises slipping from your throat are unstoppable. You still haven’t swallowed the come, gurgling while moaning and trying to keep it in your mouth–almost to savor it. 

His hand comes forward to grip your hair, remaking that damn makeshift ponytail his brother was just using. He tugs, forcing your back to arch as your head flies back with a whimper. He’s fucking you harder now, one hand gripping your hair and the other on your hip to press your cunt as close to him as he can possibly get it, pounding into you at a near-painful speed.

“Joel,” you cry out, more tears slipping from your pretty eyes that are quickly cleaned off by Tommy. You gasp and finally swallow his come, groaning in satisfaction and letting your head fall forward until it’s rudely tugged back by the other brother.

“You got it, darlin.’ You can take it. C’mon now, don’t go dumb on me.”

He groans, the hand on your hip giving your ass a solid smack. You cry out again, squealing with the mix of pain and pleasure. Pain, mostly now, as he’s fucking you deep and painfully harsh.

“Hold her still. She’s shakin,’ Tommy.” Joel leans forward with a growl, draping his body over yours and letting his head fall to your shoulder while he fucks you from behind. His teeth bare, nibbling on any exposed skin he can get, licking and sucking and kissing like an animal.

Tommy’s hands come to your shoulders, holding you still and shushing you while you cry under Joel’s hard body. “Almost there, angel. We’ve got you.”

And within the next minute, you and Joel’s orgasms approach at once. You can tell with him because his pace gets sloppy, hips slamming into your ass uncontrollably and inconsistently. He can tell with you because you’re impossibly more vocal, whimpering out and trembling. 

When your thighs start to shake, he snakes a hand down your body and attaches his index and middle finger to your clit. That’s your weakness.

It’s not even eight seconds after he touches your clit that you’re coming, gasping and writhing and falling forward against Tommy. Joel follows suit, finishing deep inside you and smacking your ass as he comes.

The next thirty seconds go silent. You fell forward against Tommy, he pulled you into his arms. Joel’s now-soft cock slipped out, leaving you pumped full of his seed.

Tommy strokes your hair, kissing your forehead in an attempt to get your shaking body down from the intense high his brother had just given you. The other man lays next to the two of you, senseless now and in his own little world. His eyes are pressed shut, sexy pants coming from his mouth and into his pillow. 

The room is quiet and hazy, heavy with sweat and the familiar scent of sex. It’s absolutely filthy. Wrecked.

Your limbs are all tangled up, breath catching. The silence isn’t awkward. It’s earned. 

The sheets are tangled and damp, clinging to your thighs when Joel manages to sit up. He grumbles, moving closer and cuddling into your side that isn’t occupied by his brother.

On the floor are your clothes, laying scattered and forgotten. Tommy is on your other side, hand curled over your hip and quiet breath in your neck where his head is buried. Joel is curling onto your left, kissing your sweaty shoulder and arm, anywhere he can get. 

And you–God. You’re spent, utterly and completely fucked-out. Used. Wrecked.

You’re past satisfied, actually sure that your bones probably aren’t solid anymore. Your limbs are too heavy to move, cheek pressed to Tommy’s chest and an arm slung over his brother’s body. They hold you like they’re afraid you’ll float off somewhere.

“Nothin’ left in me now.” Joel mumbles, lips brushing your skin. His voice is hoarse and dried out, more of an exhale than actual speech. “Not movin’ at all.”

The only part of him that can move is his fingers, trailing so slowly up and down your spine. 

Tommy nods and huffs in agreement, kissing your cheek and pulling you closer. You just smile–lazy and slow and perfectly wrecked. Everything aches in the best kind of way. You feel as if you’ve been pulled apart and put back together with hands that know exactly what they’re doing. 

Your throat is burning, hips stinging from Joel’s grip, your pussy leaking out his seed. And no one said much. They didn’t have to.

The air is thick and sticky, but also soft. Comfortable. Hearts beating in sync and bodies pressed so closely that you can’t tell where one ended and the next began. 

Tommy is the last to speak–“Might have to stay here ‘til winter. Jus’hibernating.”—and you laugh. Blissed out and tangled between the men. Just laughed, warm and slow, like the fire hadn’t gone out yet.

WOO that was a journey to write. I’m going to hell. Love yall though 💋💋

TUMBLR ONLY LETS ME TAG 50 👎👎 I’m so sorry to everyone else ik i got like over 100 asking to be tagged so i tried my best

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[akawifeyy]

cologne | fic (OP81)

description: wanting to prank your boyfriend, oscar piastri, you decide to spritz some cologne on yourself.

tropes: prank, established relationship

face claim: none

trigger warnings: mentions of cheating, suggestive content, swearing

| note: it’s a bit late but i wrote this in honor of oscar’s CHINESE GP WIN 😮‍💨 my icon and legend

It was just half an hour before your boyfriend, Oscar Piastri, would arrive home from yet another grueling day of testing. The papaya McLaren he loved so much was sapping up all his energy, and you wished you could get the old Oscar back. You had the perfect idea — the two of you loved to prank each other, so maybe this would be the way to go?

Standing in front of the mirror in your bathroom, you held the clear glass cologne bottle in your hand. It was your father’s, definitely not familiar enough for instant detection, but distinctly masculine.

You took a deep breath and gently sprayed, letting the smell waft over you. Eyes watering, you set it down, adjusting your shirt and plastering on an innocent expression.

Later, Oscar stumbled through the door, his eyes bleary with exhaustion. His muscles bunched with stress, but he looked at you just as lovingly as he did the first time he met you.

“Hello, darling,” he murmured. “I missed you.”

He pulled you in for a hug, arms cocooning you in his blissful warmth and comfort. A moment passed, and you felt him tense. Oscar pulled back, worry lining his face. “Y/N…What’s that smell?” He sniffed you again, confused. “Baby, I’m so — why do you smell like cologne?”

You cocked your head to the side. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You twirled around, walking into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water. “I think you’re too sleep deprived.”

“No,” Oscar said, following behind you determinedly. “I swear…”

You rolled your eyes.

“Did you go somewhere? Was someone with you in the house?” He furrowed his eyebrows. “If there was, you can tell me. I won’t be mad. I just want the truth.”

You shrugged, taking a sip of the cool liquid and letting it settle in your stomach before responding. “No one was here.”

“Y/N, if you’re seeing someone, I’d like to know.”

You froze. “I’m not seeing anyone, Oscar. Jeez.”

“You smell like another man’s cologne, you’ve been home alone while I’ve been away, and you’re really trying to gaslight me? I’m sorry, but I think I deserve to be a little concerned.” Oscar crossed his arms, staring at you with a cold expression. “I’m working hard to provide us with a life, and you could be sneaking around, with someone else? It hurts, Y/N.”

You scoffed, hackles rising. “So you’re calling me a slut? Saying that I’m lying? Fuck you, Oscar.”

“Woah, Y/N, I never said that,” Oscar shot back, voice edged with tension. You knew he hated arguments. “I’m just worried.”

“I’m not fucking another man.” You stormed away from him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Oscar.”

“Then why do you smell like another man?”

You threw your hands up in the air. “I don’t know.”

“That’s not good enough of an answer.” Oscar rubbed his hand across his face, clearly fed up. “I want to believe you, but…”

Incapable of keeping the prank going, because you knew doing so was the wrong thing to do, you huffed. “It was a prank.”

Oscar’s mouth opened as he processed what you had said. “Pardon me, darling?”

“It’s my father’s cologne.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, baby. I’m sorry for yelling at you, and accusing you of things you didn’t do.” Oscar stepped close to you, kissing you on your forehead. “I just love you, is all, and I thought… I thought maybe you didn’t love me anymore. That I wasn’t enough.”

You pouted. “You’re perfect, Oscar.”

“Sure.” He kissed you again, his hand resting on your jaw. “I really hope you think so.”

“I know so.”

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

[hwallazia]

hi idk if you taking requests but if you are, heres my idea.

nerdy hongjoong chosen to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. imagine making out with him and you get whiny and moaning BUT he’s just the same as you! he’s whining and hands all over you. with his lil glasses and his hair gets messy from you tugging on his hair 😩

i love your writing and i think you’ll do great with this! looking forward to it if you decide to write this byeeeeeeee

7 MINUTES IN HELL HEAVEN �� 김홍중

⋆ synopsis. being dared to do 7 minutes in heaven with the nerd wasn’t as bad as you thought.

pairing. nerdy! hongjoong & fem! reader.

wc. 1,8k

warnings. veeeery suggestive (mdni!), dry humping, making out, desperation at its peak, so much whining, implied virgin! hongjoong, reader calls joong “nerdy”, teasing, reader’s on top of hongjoong but they don’t fuck, getting caught (not fucking but in a compromising position hehe), possessive reader tehee, mention of other ateez’s members, 

nic’s notes ⋆ writing this was a ride 😮‍💨 happy belated vday, lovelies <3 also, hope u like it, dear anonnie !!

how the fuck did you end up here?

a nerd whose name was irrelevant to you, sitting next to you in a king-sized bed, chosen to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 

you could feel the way his eyes peered holes into the back of your head as you covered your face with your palms, still unable to face reality. he fidgeted his fingers against the fabric of his fancy pants, adjusting his black glasses every now and then; heart almost beating out of his poor chest. 

you sighed, fingers holding the bridge of your nose, before turning abruptly to stare at him. his body jolted slightly in reaction. “do you even know how to kiss?”

his eyes opened wide in shock, taken aback by your sudden question. “huh?” was all he could mutter.

you groaned as you rolled your eyes, a mix of boredom and annoyance bubbling deep inside your guts. “oh my god,” you whispered under your breath, closing your eyes in denial. “you know how this game works, right?”

a soft flush of red brightened his cheeks. “i do,” he breathed, “it just seems quite inappropriate to me.”

amusement laced your tone. “inappropriate? ha! you’re a virgin, aren’t ya?” your words sounded more like a sentence than a question. 

the blush on his face grew stronger, heating his face. nervously, he blabbered. “hah?! w—why would i share that kind of information with you?!”

you chuckled at him. “yeah, you are.”

he looked at you as if you had hurt his pride as a man. so, he talked back in a poor attempt to defend himself. “no, i’m not!”

you quickly dismissed his whines, waving your hand at him uninterestedly. “yeah yeah, whatever you say, nerdy.” 

the nickname caught him off guard, confusion written all over his face; head tilted to the side. “nerdy?” 

you ignored him and got up, clapping your hands together. you stood up in front of his figure, who seemed to refuse to move from his place. you could see how his fingers had stopped grasping the fabric of his pants, shifting instead to the softness of the bed’s blankets. “okay! listen, i don’t know about you, but i’m not planning on staying here doing nothing.” you continued. “so, i’ll be your teacher today.”

you leaned forward, closer to him. “teacher?” he muttered, unsure if he could still breathe if he kept holding eye contact with you. 

“that’s right.” you rested your hands on his thighs, using them as support. “so, what’s your name, nerdy?”

“hongjoong.” he stuttered, fluttered by your closeness. he did his best to avoid looking down at your chest, fighting the urge to glance at the curve of your breasts, his focus straining to stay on your face. 

“hongjoong…” you hummed softly, slightly tilting your head. his name rolled off your tongue dangerously, almost as if you were savoring it. “pretty.”

when he said his name, you couldn’t help but analyze his face, dark irises scanning his flustered self with a huge focus. you frowned your brows softly when you realized: “he’s actually not so ugly you know…”

you nodded approvingly as you leaned even closer, your breasts now touching his own chest; lips only a few inches apart. a rush of excitement and nervousness flowed through his limbs, reddening his ears. “i’m yn.”

hongjoong whispered right on your lips. “i know.”

you chuckled, velvety tone laced with tease. “you’ve kept an eye on me for a while, hm?”

he realized he had given himself away too late. he was about to start rambling again. “i—“

his mind was desperately trying to look for an excuse, a way out of the moment of embarrassment he had put himself in; anxiety rushing through his blood. but before he could even utter a word, you smashed your lips against his, a mix of roughness and desperation coursing through you both. you didn’t waste any time before pushing your tongue into his mouth, and he hummed softly, happily accepting it. 

you leaned forward, pushing hongjoong over his back until his back was laid flat against the mattress. you didn’t break in any moment the kiss as you straddled his lap, pressing your clothed sex against his crotch. 

your hair covered his reddened face and his scrunched eyes, he was immersed in that kiss, deeply intoxicated by your aura, scent and taste. your tongue laced with his just felt right, and it awakened something deep within him. something he never experienced before. something he couldn’t quite define. 

you both were caught up in the heat of the moment, in your own world, until a voice was heard from the other side of the door, making you pull away, a string of saliva hanging from your lips and keeping you connected.

“mingi, the timer, man!” you could recognize wooyoung’s voice.

a faint “oh fuck i forgot” barely reached your eardrum. the loud boo of the whole group almost made you laugh. mingi started whining about being human and how humans make mistakes.“poor mingi” you whispered to yourself.

“y’all, mingi forgot to start the timer!” yunho started talking loud enough for the both of you to hear. “so time’s starts running from…” he paused briefly. “now!”

you turned to face hongjoong, locking gazes with him. he looked so helplessly cute under you, such a blushing mess. “lucky us, then. we got plenty of time.”

you leaned closer, grabbing his face and pulling him to you, forcing him to sit up straight whilst joining your lips together again. your fingers stroked his cheeks affectionately, slightly tilting his glasses to the side. you dominated the kiss since he wasn’t quite sure what to do, what to touch, what to feel. his hands stayed by the sides of his body, holding the sheets beneath him in a white-knuckled grip. 

your eyes remained closed as you tried to fully immerse yourself in the kiss. but with no touch from him, the lack of contact was beginning to feel both dull and unbearable. taking matters into your own hands, you broke the kiss for a brief moment just to whisper. “touch me.” you grabbed his wrists and guided them to the sides of your body, slowly trailing them to your lower back, brushing your ass. “wherever and however you want.”

with that, you dived in for another kiss, now feeling hongjoong’s hands caressing the places that your guidance allowed him to go, still a bit shy to go further. you started to get impatient, desperate. you sunk your hips down him and started swaying back and forth, trying to create some friction. the slow, rhythmic roll of your hips effortlessly coaxed moans and whines from hongjoong’s swollen lips. 

your tongues met in a heated clash, pressing, twisting, and tangling in a slow, intoxicating dance. you tried to match hongjoong’s sloppy pace, but it left you breathless, panting for air. “haa.. hongjoong— wait.”

“can’t,” was all he said before pressing his hands against your back and neck and pulling you to him, locking lips again.

but this time was different. this time hongjoong had gained enough confidence and built enough courage to start roaming his hands all over your covered back and trailing them down to your ass, playing and groping your buttocks. this time hongjoong was the one to insert his tongue into your oral cavity first. his kissing was still sloppy and unrefined, but it somehow stirred something deep in you, deep down. 

a familiar fluid started to pool down your panties, euphoric arousal coursing through your limbs, prickling your skin. your hands instinctively glided to his hair and started tugging it, your fingers laced with some locks of his fluffy hair. your panting and desperate state made hongjoong feel things he just wasn’t okay with, things that drove him up a wall. his clothed sex started to wake up, poking his pants and rising its fabric, creating a tent. his now hardened bulge tapped against your wet entrance insistently. you moaned at the feeling whilst hongjoong was doing his best to keep his whines at a low volume. spoiler: he couldn’t.

he’s a panting mess beneath you, eyes almost rolling back to his skull at the sensation, the satisfaction. the lenses of his glasses are now fogged up, the mist clouding his vision as his breath hitched in the heated air.

he exhaled. “fuck you’re too much.”

“am i?” you smirked teasingly, drowned in his expression, his state. his face was flushed from all the situation, his lips were swollen from all the kissing, his hair was messy from your fingers tugging it. and a sudden sensation of possessiveness washed over you.

your mind just couldn’t help but repeat like a mantra the word “mine”.

you were about to dive into a heated kiss again, start the kiss that’d be marked by that thought, the kiss that’d make hongjoong yours.

but just when you were about to do so, to claim the guy, the door bursted open.

wooyoung and jongho chimed in. “time’s uppp!” wooyoung blubbered, completely wasted and drunk. he stared at you and analyzed everything: the position, the ambience, the smell that lingered in the air. “oh my god, you were about to fuck.” he stated the obvious.

jongho sighed, grabbing his friend by his shoulders. “he’s drunk if y’all can’t tell.” he cleared up. “but yeah, time’s up. so get out of here and join us.” he announced before disappearing through the door. 

when the door clicked shut, you and hongjoong sighed loudly in unison and proceeded to laugh at the unintentional match, genuine smiles drawn on your faces. 

“i guess this is it then?” hongjoong spoke.

“what do you mean this is it, idiot.” you deadpanned, pulling yourself off his lap. as you brushed your hair with your fingers, trying to better it up, you continued. “you and i got unfinished business, sir.”

you winked at him before leaning in and pecking his lips. “you ain’t getting rid of me that easily.” you shared one final, brief kiss and pulled away. 

you chuckled softly before making your way towards the door, naturally bringing out your usual self when you met everyone again. “ayooo!” you hollered, being greeted by your euphoric and drunk friends as you closed the door behind you, leaving a poor flustered hongjoong sitting on the edge of the bed with an unbearable hard-on and his smart brain turned into mush.

days later, hongjoong was in the middle of a study session in the university’s library, head almost inside the philosophy book he was reading. 

suddenly, his phone vibrated against the desk, the dull brrr catching him off guard. he picked it and lit up its screen. a message from an unknown number popped up as the latest notification. his fingers swiped the screen and unlocked it, now able to read the text.

come over to my place tonight. there’s still some unfinished business we need to handle, nerdy.

a lustful glint sparkled in his eyes, and a devilish smirk curved up his lips.

everything about tonight promised to be dangerous, and neither of you was going to back down.

| masterlist

[ybklix]

Wearing lose shirt with nothing underneath & sitting on his lap ?? 😵‍💫 Lee know?

minho’s lap😮‍💨

take it off

♡ lee minho

⟡summary: Your boyfriend loves to tease you and make you feel good even after a tiring day at work.

❀ pairing: idol lee know x fem reader

♡ genre - warnings: smut, established relationship, dom! minho, teasing, slight dirty talk, fingering, masturbation, spanking, unprotected sex

word count: 3k

a/n: my first request ig wohoo u little minhoes, is this how it works? lol, i had this in my head since minho is tio by zayn coded

You missed Minho, you haven't seen him for days because he was busy at work, you knew that during these dates it was difficult to see him, and then it became almost impossible once he returned to make his presentations, even staying all night in the place. But tonight he promised to see you, lately he ended up so tired that all he did was go to his dorm to rest, sadly you had to insist that he agreed to see you, he also missed you intensely but when it came to his work he got too serious, after all, he had a reputation and image to maintain.

You had cooked for Minho variety of his favorite dishes, you were a little exhausted but it would be worth it to see his tender face light up when he ate something delicious. You were in the kitchen, setting everything up when you heard the characteristic sound of your door indicating that someone was coming in, you smiled broadly and almost run to your foyer to see who it was. Minho was wearing blue jeans, a simple white shirt and a thin jacket loose to his body, he was completely covered even though it was a hot summer day in the city, he couldn't risk being recognized.

You pounced on him and hugged him by the neck, you had missed him so much you couldn't get enough of saying it, Minho reciprocated the hug right away, holding tightly to your lower back.

“Oh, y/n” Minho said while he could still breathe in the smell of your hair.

“Don't let us stop seeing each other for so long” you warned him in a stern but gentle tone once you parted.

Minho smiled as he watched you tenderly and nodded, removing his jacket and face mask.

“What's that?” you asked him as you noticed he was carrying plastic bags from somewhere he shopped in his hand.

“Ah, a dessert for later, come on let's go” Minho added confidently, walking into your apartment.

Minho walked next to you to the kitchen with his hand gently on your butt and finally saw what you had cooked for him.

“Woah, it looks delicious. Thank you, love” Minho walked over to you giving you a kiss on your head.

You watched his round eyes sparkle as he sat down to eat, you wanted to hear everything from him, even though you texted daily and were updated on every single thing he did, you wanted to hear him talk and talk.

“I'll take a picture and post it” he said before picking up the chopsticks.

You smiled at the horrendous angle he took the pictures and joined him for dinner. You didn't want to ask him about work, his face looked a little dull and tired that you didn't know if it was right to start talking about it, but there was nothing else to say, since he spent more time at the company than with you, you both knew that starting a relationship would be sometimes a lonely dynamic, still it was worth every second when you were with him, as if he rewarded you double and you forgot that you don't see him that often. Still you tried to be gentle and say to him:

“Did you have a long day today?”

Minho looked at you and stopped eating for a second.

“Yes, kind of, it was long because it was a day of waiting and small recordings, there were no rehearsals so I found it tedious.”

You could tell it was one of those days by seeing his perfectly coiffed hair and light makeup a bit already worn on his face.

“Did you pick the best pictures for the album?” you said to him amused.

“Sure, I posed like this” he replied amused making a random pose by putting his hands behind his head.

Minho smiled, adorably raising his high cheekbones and you caught his laughter. He kept telling you more details, you adored listening to him talk, he even shared his upcoming schedule to see which days he could dedicate his day only to you, you sighed watching him, sometimes you wanted to be a clingy girlfriend going everywhere he went but, you had to keep your posture.

“When we go to Busan, you're coming with me, I'm not asking you” he commented seriously looking at you intensely, you knew him well, yes he meant it but his intention of being intense was just him being a bit of a tease.

You nodded, giving him a kiss on the cheek; after a few minutes he wanted to tidy up and wash all the dishes used as he was always helpful no matter what, you begged to help him as he insisted that you should stay seated to rest the food.

You were next to him, helping him to dry the dishes while Minho washed each pot cautiously, you loved the closeness of his body, honestly you were totally willing for tonight to be one of those tender ones where later he takes a shower and you both go to sleep cuddled up, but you lost yourself in the movement of his big soapy hands, the skillful crush of the sponge and his marked arms with notorious veins... that's when you realized that you didn't just need Minho's company, you needed everything from him, and when you least thought about it, you remembered that it had been long days without sex. You decided to blame your random horny thoughts to the heat of the day, despite having your apartment cool, outside it was a total mess, strong sun during the day and dry and hot nights, you wore shorts and a loose button down blouse that Minho bought you on one of his many trips, he always did that, he bought something for you, but definitely his favorite thing to give you as a gift was clothes that matched his.

You were relieved that Minho didn't notice that you suddenly became aroused at the thought of his hands touching your body, nor that he noticed you looking at him shamelessly, he was just there innocently helping you wash your dishes; otherwise if he had noticed he would start with his double meaning comments and his arrogant little smile, you didn't want it now, you felt completely needy that you didn't need any more humiliation by your boyfriend.

You both finished and Minho decided to rest a bit in your living room making himself comfortable on the couch.

“You'll stay here to sleep, right?” you asked standing in front of him.

“Mmhum” gasped Minho as he stretched his body closing his eyes and trying to relax, “Seungmin is in charge of the dorm, I told him not to disturb at all.”

Minho stared at you, you smiled and were ready to sit next to him until you noticed how he patted his thigh indicating you to sit on his lap, you couldn't be happier and fell on his legs hugging his neck, positioning your body sideways on top of him. You loved sitting on his lap, his thighs were strong and worked, you were so comfortable and your ass accommodated perfectly with no problem, Minho also knew how much you loved it too, as well as slapping his thighs with your ass as you jumped on his cock.

For him it was simple, when he wanted to have you, he did, he would get hard in seconds when it came to you, he still loved to tease you and prolong the process, torturing you both.

“How much did you miss me?” he murmured with an arrogant tone in a low, thick voice.

You slowly lost your sanity as you looked into his leering eyes and heard his tone, oh god, you thought, of course he was going to fuck you tonight, you were so excited that your lower part started to react. Minho was holding you tightly by the waist with his left hand while with his right one, he caressed your thighs.

“You know that I missed you so much, Minho” you stared at him.

“I needed you too, princess.”

He said and moved closer to you to give you a slow, fiery kiss, you needed him so much, you wanted to jump on his cock now, you were so wet and ready, you wanted to feel full, you could feel him too, so hard in a short time, but Minho… he liked slow play and it was killing you inside.

You moaned between the kiss and pulled your body back as you felt Minho's heavy, warm hand rub your center on top of your garment, you knew perfectly well that Minho could keep you like this for a long time, kissing you hotly until your lips swelled; his hand on your waist began to slide inside your loose blouse finally feeling his touch of skin on yours, making you feel so good, Minho moved his hand up to notice your exposed tits, cupping them tightly as he moved his kisses down your jaw and neck, he was still surprised by the sudden delight of feeling your breasts in his hand.

“Why aren't you wearing anything underneath, princess?” he gasped between kisses, feeling his heavy, hot breath on your neck.

You hated talking when Minho made you so bad, your breathing was so ragged and ragged, but knowing him, you knew he always wanted an answer; if you didn't he would make a sudden move on you and growl through his teeth 'I'm talking to you'.

“It's a hot day and... I'm in the comfort of my home, Minho…” you tried to sound as poised as possible.

Minho smiled sideways and squeezed your nipples and the grip on your pussy tighter, causing you to reflexively close your legs a little.

“Or is it because you love to tease me and were so ready for me, kitten, wearing clothes with easy access” Minho whispered in your ear, massaging your breasts harder, “Besides, how do I know you weren't out there like a little slut going shopping to make dinner with nothing on underneath.”

You shook softly, when he made those kinds of comments you knew you were in for a bit of physical punishment so you bit your lip at the memory of his heavy hand on your ass.

“Stand up for a moment baby” he ordered you in a rough voice, you almost moaned as you stopped feeling his hands on you, it felt so wrong when he stopped touching you, “Turn around” he said and positioned you with your back to him.

You listened as he sat up a little from the couch and suddenly you felt his hand squeeze your thigh and then both them search for the button of your shorts, deftly removing them, you were so excited by every slow movement your boyfriend made and it was so unexpected, in a second he could kneel you down and make you suck his cock, or bend you over and start penetrating you, curiosity was eating you to know what he was going to do with you, but you just decided to enjoy every second of it.

Minho took the elastics of your panties and pulled them tight leaving your sensitive and wet pussy exposed, he massaged your ass with two of his hands and you felt a soft kiss on your skin, suddenly nothing, you turned around confused and found your boyfriend trying to pull down his tight pants from his thighs, despite being a bit baggy, once he sat down they became tight on his big legs and finally free him of that denim that burdened his cock. You bit your lip internally screaming to feel his stiff penis in you; Minho pulled down his underwear releasing his throbbing sex full of energy.

“Come here” he grabbed your arm tightly, “I want to smack your cute ass a little.”

You frowned confused trying to have an explanation, “But..” you tried to say but Minho was being rough moving you.

You swallowed nervously and put your abdomen on his thighs, leaving your ass at his mercy as you felt his erection rubbing a little on your waist.

“Don't expect me to be gentle” moaned Minho, lifting your big, loose blouse a little and giving you a hard spanking and then squeezing the injured area.

You gasped in pain, and pleasure as you felt his fingers fuck your entrance all of a sudden, Minho gave you another four hard spanks with his right hand, leaving his hand branded on your ass while with his other hand he mercilessly moved his fingers in you, you were so close to cumming from the pain and pleasure that you felt a little guilty that you find something like that so fucking exciting, but that was Minho, if he didn't make you suffer a little in sex then it wasn't him, even when you made love which was supposed to be sweet and romantic, he fucked you so deep that he made you dig your nails into his back.

Minho saw your legs contract waiting for you to unload all your tension, you were about to tell him you were going to cum, but he stepped forward and stopped, pulling you by your hair with his left hand and telling you full of desire, “Come here, I'm not done yet, you can't cum until I tell you.”

He made you sit back on his lap for which you moaned for your newly hurt ass, this time turning your back to him, you moaned as you felt his hard cock press against your back, he grabbed your waist a little to lift you up and position his dick between your wet labia, making you both moan, the firmness of his manhood felt so good pressed against your soaked cunt, enveloping it perfectly that you wanted to start moving, but you were completely in submissive mode, it was obvious that you couldn't do anything because it was one of those times when your boyfriend took total control.

Minho moved your loose hair out of the way and positioned his face on the side of your neck. He was so turned on he wanted to see everything of you, he was so needy for your pussy squeezing his cock but the long wait turned him on more, more with your needy gaze and sizzling gasps.

“Take off your shirt, baby” he commanded in your ear.

You were about to bend over and take it off over your head like any normal garment but Minho stopped you, “No, no, do it button by button.”

You almost whimpered at the feel of his throbbing cock under your dripping pussy and you being able to do nothing about it; with trembling hands you tried to do it as fast as you could while Minho watched with so much amusement.

“Good girl, you're a good girl for me” Minho murmured as he saw you managed to do as he asked, “Let's get it off” he gently slid your blouse off, finally leaving you naked.

“I want you to show me…” he muttered again, taking your dominant hand and bringing it to your cunt, “How much you missed me, I want to see how you played with your pussy pretending it was me, did you do that, princess?” gasped Minho.

“Yes” you moaned as you touched his tip pressing against your pussy.

It wasn't a lie, the nights were long and boring without Minho and your only companion at times was your faithful vibrator, but nothing compared to him.

You settled your body a little, rubbing your wetness against his erection and let yourself lean on his chest as you tried to stimulate your clitoris giving him the show he wanted. Your squirts were falling on his cock, you closed your eyes letting yourself go as he squeezed your thigh and your tit. Minho was getting the best view possible, watching you squirm for him as you rubbed his swollen cock.

You gasped, your entrance was a little hard to reach in that position and more so with your boyfriend's big erect dick between your folds.

“Were you moaning my name while you were doing it alone, you dirty slut?”

“Mmm… Mi-minho” you whimpered as you continued to play with your clit and subtly rubbed yourself on his cock.

Minho was so lubed too, he moaned to feel your little movements, if you kept this up he was about to cum too. You started stimulating yourself slowly but your heart rate was getting higher and higher, speeding up your own movements in your pussy too, you were so ready to cum on your boyfriend's cock that you were frustrated that you didn't want your own fingers to be the ones satisfying you, so you thought you were going to give him what he craved so much.

“Fuck me, Minho, do it now, please” you whined in his ear.

Minho smiled to hear you begging.

“Then sit on my cock now, princess, take it and ride it well” he gasped.

Agitated, trying to get back all your senses as you incorporated feeling the incredible wetness of your pussy and let yourself fall on Minho's cock, sliding so easily and smoothly inside of you, still, you ached. You both sighed in pleasure finally as you were joined and you began to jump up and down non-stop being heard in the room the grotesque sound of your wet cunt, your ass falling hard on Minho's thighs and the gasps of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess, cum all over my cock now” Minho whispered excitedly.

Minho helped you by holding your waist and when you felt a little overwhelmed you let yourself lean on his chest still with his t-shirt on and he began to ram you hard lifting his hips, while he played with your clit. You felt him so close too, you whimpered with bated breath and fell surrendered in orgasm, sitting on his cock and thighs.

“You did it so well, princess and dinner was delicious, thank you” Minho told you agitated but sweetly, stroking your hair.

[stark-ironman]

Breeding kink with Hugh would be wild me thinks he can't resist

Breed Me

18+ No Minors

A/N: I got carried away 😮‍💨. Again, no disrespect to Hugh or anybody. I'm just having fun. If anybody reads this, how do we feel about a lactation kink for Mr. Jackman 🤔 I almost wrote one with this...

Warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it), daddy kink (because I can't help that either), dirty talk

The bedroom door is pushed open as Hugh carries you to your shared bed, laying you down gently as he climbs on top of you and kisses you deeply. Hugh pulls back slightly, holding himself up on his arms so he can stare deeply into your eyes with his dark, lust-filled eyes and his warm breath slightly brushing against your lips. A groan quietly escapes your lips when he moves his head lower, kissing across your jaw and down your neck. You arch slightly, allowing him to remove your shirt and bra.

"You look so sexy, princess." Hugh breathes out, pulling his shirt off quickly before kissing you again. His hands run up your body, caressing both of your breasts as he moves down towards them, his tongue teasing your nipple just before his mouth encloses around it and sucks gently. Your hand runs through his hair, gripping tightly as he moves to the other one and repeating his actions.

"Seeing you take care of your niece and nephew today filled me with so much happiness," His voice is low, a small chuckling breath escapes his lips before he continues, "It also made me realize I want to fill you with my cum until your pregnant for me. Fuck.. I want you to carry my children princess." A groan escapes both of your lips after he says that, his lips pressing just right above your hip bone as his hands work on sliding your pants off.

"Do you want me to breed you, baby? Want to be so round and full of my babies and show off to everyone that I knocked you up?" His voice turns near primal and it causes you to moan out, nodding softly. "I want you to knock me up, daddy." You purposefully said that and Hugh stops his movements, moving back up so he can look you in the eyes.

"Mm, call me that again." He tells you, pressing his clothed erection against your wet core, his hand gliding up your body as if he's tracing your curves. "Breed me until I'm so full of cum that I have no choice but to carry your babies, daddy." You say with a smirk, watching as Hugh gazes at you with intensity.

He slides his pants and briefs off, kicking them off the bed before lining up with your entrance, sliding in gently so you can take all of him. Hugh leans down to the curve of your neck, lightly kissing and running his lips across the sensitive skin while slowly starting to move his hips.

A satisfied hum comes from him, vibrating your skin and sending a shock through your body. His hips move slowly and deliberately, each thrust measured to be just enough to cause a whine to escape your lips. Hugh pushes up on his hands, holding himself up so he can look down at you with a cocky smirk.

"What's wrong, princess? Tell daddy what you need." He says in a teasing manner. "I need you to fuck me.." You whimper, the smirk never leaving his face as he pulls out. Another wine escapes your lips but he quickly turns you over onto your hands and knees and slides back in, gripping your hips tightly as he starts pounding into you.

"Fuck, daddy.." You moan out, trying to hold yourself up with your arms but failing. "Can't wait to see you so round with my baby.. fuck.. I'm going to be constantly hard knowing you're pregnant with my child." He grunts, pushing your face into the mattress from the force of his thrusts.

His hips slap against yours, the sound echoing throughout the bedroom as you moan loudly against the bed. "Fill me with your seed, Hugh. Want to carry as many babies as you will give me." Your voice full of raw need causes Hugh's mind to go blank and only focus on getting you pregnant.

He grabs your hair and pulls you up, gripping it tightly as he thrusts into you with a newfound energy, causing you to gasp and clench around him. Your breath quickens as that familiar feeling builds in your belly, gasping loudly at your orgasm soaring through you with a great intensity and before you can catch your breath, another one unexpectedly hits after your first one.

Hugh moans loudly, grunting as his release spills inside of you. He sets your head down gently, thrusting slowly inside of you to fully emptying inside of you before pulling out.

He quickly lays besides you, pulling you on top of him and rubs your back. "Darling, are you okay?" He asks, worry filling his voice after noticing you haven't moved. You nod softly and he kisses your forehead. "Words, love. I have to make sure you're okay before I go get you a snack." His voice is soft and you know he's worried about you slipping off. "I'm okay, daddy, I promise." You chuckle, feeling his eyes glare at you.

[lesservillain]

congrats on 2k followers! 🥳

can i request a steddie × reader blurb? breeding kink is on the brain 😮‍💨

“have they ever touched you like this?” and “show me you’re mine.” 🥵

thank you so much! i hope this is what you were wanting :)

join the 2k celebration!

cw: established steddie, unprotected piv, threesome, multiplie creampies, breeding

wc: 1.8k (see i told y'all i couldn't make them under 1k lol)

You didn’t know how you’d gotten yourself into this predicament. 

One second you were joking with your best friends about having kids one day, and the next thing you knew you were in their shared bed completely naked. It had to have been the joint the three of you were passing that even made you agree to this. Because what you were doing was going to be a big commitment, but at the moment you didn’t care.

“You’re the best for this,” Eddie says next to your ear. You were laying against his chest, his hard cock pressing against your back as he watched Steve get settled between your legs. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you were nervous in this moment. You’d not had as much experience as Eddie or Steve, which only makes this whole situation even crazier for you. Steve and Eddie know this, considering you’ve told each other everything since you’ve become friends. You just hope they take it into consideration when they handle you.

Steve moves his hands between your legs, touching you in your most sensitive area with such delicacy. His touch is soft as he explores you, his fingers brushing your clit and sending little shocks throughout your body. “Sorry,” he says with a laugh, “been a while since I’ve been around one of these.” You blush, trying not to think about Eddie and Steve having sex in this moment. Even with what was about to happen, it felt like you were betraying them by thinking about them in that way.

Steve suddenly slips a thick finger inside of you and you gasp at the intrusion. He wastes no time curling his finger inside of you, doing his best to hit that spot deep inside of you with quick movements. His thumb finds its way to your clit and you start to writhe in Eddie’s grasp at how intense the feeling is.

“Have they ever touched you like that?” Eddie’s question rings in your ears, but your brain isn’t computing what he’s asking.

“H-huh?” You ask, trying to turn your head to look back at him but struggling with Steve’s hands distracting you.

“Any of the guys you’ve been with before touch you that good? He’s got a way with his hands.” Steve lets out a chuckle at Eddie’s words, but his eyes are locked where he’s working his magic on you.

You shake your head, breath hitching as you feel that coil tightening quickly in your belly. “N-no,” you stutter out, looking back down at where Steve’s hand and your body meet. The pace he was giving you falters for a moment, only to feel another finger joining the first inside of you. You felt so full just from his fingers, and given his size you couldn’t imagine what it was going to feel like with him inside of you.

With the way Steve was working you, it didn’t take much longer before you were cumming on his fingers. “Fuck!” You shouted as your legs started to shake. Steve kept going to let you ride out your high, slowing down once you started to squirm. 

“Open up,” Steve says, and you look at him with confusion. You think he’s talking to you, but when he leans over you, you watch as he pushes his fingers into Eddie’s mouth, all the way down to the knuckle. Eddie’s cock twitches against your back as you watch him taste you on Steve’s fingers. Eddie’s hands grab Steve’s wrist, his eyes closing as he moans around the digits.

“Fuck,” Steve huffs out, eyes lidded as he watches Eddie suck on his fingers. When he finally pulls them out, Eddie’s tongue hanging out like a panting dog, Steve takes his saliva covered fingers and uses the spit to lube his cock, pumping himself a few times before lining himself up to enter you. Your eyes widen in anticipation as you feel his head catch on your hole before slowly pushing inside. Steve let out a low moan as he pushes himself further into your cunt, stretching you out with his size.

”Oh my god,” you breathe out as he fully seats himself inside of you, making you feel more full than you ever have before.

”I’m gonna move now.” He sounds almost pained, the way he bites his lower lip matching his tone. But he follows through on his promise, his hands gripping your thighs as he begins to move in and out of you. It’s a manageable pace for all of 10 seconds before Steve’s hips take up a mind of their own and begin to plow into you. Every thrust felt like it was knocking the wind out of your lungs, and you could feel yourself going cross eyed as the pleasure increased.

”Doing such a good job,” Eddie cooes into your ear, making chill run down your spine. “Taking him so well.”

”Fuck, she feels so good,” Steve says, his head lolling back as he continues to pound into you. You’re at a loss for words, feeling another orgasm starting to creep its way into your abdomen with each hit of that deep spot inside of you.

”C’mere big boy,” Eddie says, catching Steve’s attention. “I know she feels good, but I need you to show me you’re mine.”

Steve then shifts, leaning forward and in the process folding you in half a bit so that your hips are off of the bed. He supports you with one hand, while the other reaches past you and makes it’s way into Eddie’s hair. Steve captures him in a heated kiss leaving you to watch. You feel like nothing in this moment. Nothing more than a fuck toy for their pleasure as they tend to each other over you. It turns you on to no end, that band stretching to its limit within you.

”C’mon,” you hear Eddie chuckle into Steve’s lips, “don’t make her feel left out.”

”I’m sorry, baby,” you hear Steve say, looking down at you softly. He bends down to be at eye level with you, his face inches from yours. You close your eyes and let your mouth part slightly, and you hear Steve chuckle before his lips meet yours. He wastes no time licking into your mouth, and you open up for him without resistance. Your tongues dance in heated passion, barely able to keep up with his hunger. You moan into his mouth as he delivers a particularly sharp thrust, and he can’t help but groan back at your sounds.

”Fuck, fuck, shit!” Steve curses, burying his face into your neck as his hips start to stutter. Just as his hips still, his cock buried as deep inside of you as he can go, you feel the hot ropes of spend filling you up. He grunts and huffs against the skin of your neck as he cums inside you, riding the waves with almost all his body weight on top of you.

After a moment, Steve starts to lift himself up, shaking his head wildly as he gets his bearings back. He blinks, looking at you with wide eyes as if he’s just now seeing you for the first time. “Holy shit,” he says, giving you a smile as he wipes the sweats from his forehead.

”Alright, move. My turn,” Eddie says, pushing your back off of his chest and slipping out from under you, leaving your boneless body to thump back against their mattress. Steve pulls out of you and you immediately whine from the loss. The coil was still still wound up inside of you, and you can barely stand to have that full feeling taken from you.

Eddie and Steve swap places, Steve lifting you up carefully to position himself behind you like Eddie was before while Eddie shuffled himself between your legs. Eddie looked eager as he positioned himself between your thighs. Grabbing his cock, he slapped it a few times against your clit, causing you to jolt out from the intense feeling. 

“Good and ready for me,” he says, giving you a cocky grin. He swiped his cock between your folds a few times before pushing his tip into your aching hole. He wasn’t as big as Steve, but he was still filling you up all the same, reigniting the fire inside of you.

”Fuck,” Eddie laughs, letting himself slip inside you with ease. “That feels fucking amazing.”

”Doesn’t she feel great?” Steve says, pressing his cheek against your head.

”Best pussy I’ve ever been in,” Eddie says, filling you to the hilt. He grabs under your thighs and lifts your legs, pressing them against your stomach as he begins to move. His pace is fast right off the bat, catching you totally off guard with how intense it was. You could barely keep your head still with how much he was rocking your body, fucking you hard into the mattress.

Steve’s hand slips under your chin and turns your head to face him, your eyes doing their best to focus on him as he spoke to you. ”Talk to me, baby. How does it feel? He’s fucking you so good, right?”

”Y-yes, so good,” you say breathily.

”Tell him how good he’s doing. He loves the praise,” Steve says, nodding towards Eddie. He turns your face to look at the man fucking you, and the first thing you notice is how fucked out he looks. He’s open mouth panting as he thrusts into you with reckless abandon. His eyes seem to be focused on something, and when you follow his vision, you realize they’re staring right at your tits, watching the way they bounce in tandem with his thrusts. Steve must have caught on to this, because his hands make their way to your chest and begin fondling you. 

“Fuck, you’re doing so good, Eddie,” you say, looking at him in the eyes. His vision flicks up to your face, a low whine escaping from the caverns of his chest at your praise.

”Don’t her words feel so good, Eddie?” Steve says, a teasing tone to his voice. “I bet her moans would sound even better.” One of Steve’s hands falls from your breast and makes its way down your stomach until his fingers find its way to your clit. Your back arches as he begins to play with you, rubbing calculated circles into the bud that had you seeing stars. Everything became too much very quickly, and you couldn’t stop yourself as you began to come undone on Eddie’s cock. 

“Oh fuck,” Eddie whimpers out, his movements becoming sporadic as he begins to cum. You can feel him filling you, his spend mixing with Steve’s inside of you. It’s such a filling feeling, so much so that you can already feel it starting to drip out of you.

Eddie collapses on top of you, effectively squishing you between him and Steve. It’s surprisingly pleasant feeling, being smushed between them. Something you could get used to.

[runa-falls]

I saw that you think Miguel is a thigh man 😩 can I request him x reader who's thighs clap when they run or so some type of activities. I got that problem sadly 😵‍💫😮‍💨

yes, of course!! i love talking ab our thigh fucker ;^)

cw: body insecurities, thigh chafing (yeouch), fluffy reassurances, small bit of smut (OK IM SORRY 😳 i didn't see that coming [yes i did.]), just oral and uh, a bit of marking, not proof read!!

---

you've never enjoyed prolonged physical activity: running, swimming, biking, etc, because you hated the way your thighs would slide against each other; uncomfortably chafing your skin and making noticeable sounds.

so when miguel proposed a hike for your weekly date, you were hesitant to agree. unfortunately, he's very good at persuading you...

that's how you found yourself on a narrow trial shrouded with trees, taking slow, cautious steps as you attempt to keep your thighs from touching as much as usual.

of course, it only helped so much. your inner thighs were still chafing and getting sore, but you try to conceal your pain as much as possible, too embarrassed to mention anything to miguel.

though your boyfriend is the most loving and accepting man you've ever met, you still haven't told him of your insecurity. you're afraid that once you mention something to him, he'll notice your thighs even more.

miguel is pacing himself, making sure to slow down with you so he doesn't leave you behind (he does this hike all the time). he adjusts his baseball cap, making sure his wild curls are smooshed down as he watches you walk toward him.

you look beautiful today. you always look beautiful. but there's something about see you in this condition that make him twitch in his shorts.

he loves the way your chest heaves as you take deep breaths, your tits pressing desperately against the thin fabric. how droplets of sweat roll over the contours of your cleavage, outlining what he wants to see the most. and how your leggings look like they were painted on, completely revealing the overwhelming softness of your thighs and how they press so sweetly together.

he can barely take his eyes off of you.

but he can't help but notice how odd you're acting too.

he's perplexed as to why you're taking such big steps and moving like you'd rather be anywhere but there, with him. why your face is tense, yet completely blank at the same time.

there's clearly something wrong, but you've been silent this whole hike.

"baby, you doing alright?" you seem to be lost in your thoughts as you stare down at your dirt-scuffed sneakers, you don't even notice he's stopped in front of you. he calls out to you again, "babe?"

"hm?" you look up, pausing your unnatural movements to give your legs a rest, "oh, yeah...i'm fine" you attempt a smile, but even you can tell it looks fake and performative. his eyes bloom with concern as he notices how your legs are shaking under you.

"what's going on, sweetheart? are you hurt?"

"no...it's just," you look away, still apprehensive to mention anything.

he pushes, hand reaching for yours, "just what?"

"i-my thighs are chafing..." you say softly, looking back at him. he's frowning. "b-but i can keep going!" you start walking again, willing yourself to continue even though it hurts.

"baby, wait," he stops you, "don't hurt yourself. i didn't realize you were having trouble this whole time."

you shrug, "it's ok, i'm used to it."

"sweetheart, come here." he has his back turned towards you, coaxing you over to him. "get on."

"get on?"

"i'll carry you back to the car."

"no! you don't have to--"

"i want to." he interrupts, "then when we get home, we'll take a nice bath and get you all patched up."

"what about the rest of the trail?"

"we can just get our work out in at home..."

---

you sigh as warm water washes over the inflamed skin of your inner thighs. it stings sharply, but the pain feels oddly satisfying, especially as miguel thoroughly lathers shampoo in your hair.

"feel better?"

you hum, eyes closing as his fingers attentively massage your scalp.

"why didn't you tell me that you were hurting earlier?"

"i dunno, it just wasn't that big of a deal, mig."

"it was. you were barely able to sit without your hands between your thighs."

you snort, "i thought you liked it when i do that."

you yelp when you feel him tug sharply at your hair. "you know what i meant." he growled, clearly unhappy you're trying to avoid the subject.

"it's embarrassing."

"what's embarrassing?" his hands start to cup water onto your head, washing the suds from your hair until you're squeaky clean.

"my thighs." his movements stop suddenly.

"what about them?"

"they're...too big."

"too big?" he genuinely sounds baffled, almost scoffing in disbelief.

"yeah, they're always touching and they make this...clapping sound when i do certain physical movements..."

"so?"

"so?" you turn your head to look at him, questioning eyes meeting his scarlet stare. his red irises are mere slivers with how blown out his pupils are, heavy with lust.

"yeah, so what?"

"so...i don't like them." you voice is small as you look at him shyly, cheeks blooming with heat under the stringiness of your wet hair.

"well i love them."

---

miguel presses gentle and sweet kisses over your tender skin, relieving all the pain from your chafed inner thighs with just a touch of his lips. your legs are hooked over his shoulders as he makes his way up your body.

the prominent shape of his fangs press against his top lip as his sharp maroon stare fixes right at the apex of your thighs. you can tell he's holding himself back by the way his fingers grip bruises into the tops of your legs.

"baby, you have no idea," he takes a deep breath, eyes closed as his nose nuzzles at your inner thigh, "how fucking perfect you are."

"mig, please!"

he smiles cloyingly, letting you watch his fangs retract before he dips his head closer to your center. he wouldn't want to hurt you...

he locks eyes with you when he experimentally slips his tongue through your soaking lips, only giving you enough attention to keep you buzzing. he's delicately laving against you, feeling you tense and pant under him as he slowly builds up your pleasure.

a haze of lust instantly clouds over his darkened eyes and you watch as he gets lost in the taste of you. he pushes in deeper, tongue fucking you, slurping and sucking, while spilling muffled groans over your pulsing cunt as your thighs begin to tighten around him.

he flicks over your aching clit, drinking in your whimpers, moans, and cries as he teases you, pulling back every so often until you bury your hand into his curls and force him down onto you.

you're nearly suffocating him with your thighs when he start suckling you into his mouth, muscles trembling against him as you grow closer to the edge, and he loves it.

his silky lips and slick tongue push you straight off the edge. you hold on to him as your body writhes with white hot pleasure, hand in his hair and thighs around his head. you can barely hear the muffled groans he makes from how lost in ecstasy you are.

but he groans, and grunts, and then freezes.

"did i just..." he unwraps your legs from around him and sits up, tugging his briefs down in disbelief. your bleary eyes open, eyes glazed and unfocused from the intensity of your orgasm. "shit."

you look down and are graced with a beautiful mess that drips from his cock and the black fabric of his boxers.

you can't help the amused smile that spreads over your lips, "you need some help cleaning that up?"

[anyshowwitharainbow]

i saw you were interested and cool with watersports. that's not something ive ever looked for or actually read but you're writing is so good and you make the weirdest thing hot af so if you're up to do it for either aggie and/or rio + R id definitely would give it a try!

Anonnnn you've got me out here acting UP. Here's a little something...

I was a little shy with going ALL the way...but if anyone wants to know how the rest of this day went for you...let me know. I'm a leo so a little encouragement goes a long way. 😮‍💨

Warnings + Tags: 18+ NSFW MDNI, watersports dirty talk, fingering, mentions of squirting, reader hasn't tried watersports before, sub reader, mommy!Agatha, daddy!Rio, rio!g!p, strap fucking, cg/l themes, no mention of pronouns, pet names This is not edited pls be nice to me.🥺 Words: ~2.2k

You have been watching Rio chug water all day. Whether it was a devil on your shoulder, the bite of an edible, or both- you are in danger.

It started around lunchtime. Rio had been mulching the garden and there was a ring of sweat on her gray, cutoff crop top that was distracting you. You hadn’t intended on your eyes focusing on the wave her drinking made in her throat. Something about the way her head tilted back as she gulped down water made your throat suddenly painfully dry.

“Want some?” She asked, handing the water bottle towards you.

You shook your head ‘no’ dumbly.

“I think it’s empty anyways.” She frowned slightly, peaking into the inside of your favorite water bottle she commandeered.

She sat it on the counter with a clank and came to give you a brief, brisk kiss before returning outside. You were frozen for a moment or two before springing into action and refilling the bottle. You had to see that again.

Making your way outside you hand her the bottle and retreat with her soft ‘Thanks, babe.’

You casually sat on a barstool, lazily spinning left and right before you accidentally land where you have a perfect view of Rio working outside. Watching her work had always done something to you. Anytime sweat sheened off her warm, olive skin you became entranced at the way her body moved, folded, and strained under her tasks. Something was different today, though. Every time she pulled a glove off and held it between her fingers as she reached for her water bottle your breath caught in your chest. You felt anxious, anticipatory…did you really want to see it again that badly?

Then, she’d bring your bottle- your bottle- to her lips and take several gulps. Each time, her head craned back. The movement in her neck was delicious. Your cunt throbbed with each gulp and it made your cheeks burn hot. You thought about touching yourself. You knew it would only take a small shift for your wetness to spread over your thighs. What the fuck is happening to your body?

This cycle rinsed and repeated over the next few hours. A few times, you retrieved her bottle to refill it. Each time, she was more appreciative than the last.

“How’d you know it was empty? Good timing!”

“My savior, once again.”

“So good for me, bunny. Thank you.”

“You always know what Daddy needs. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were watching me.”

You’re certain your face turned as red as some of her potted plants. Had you been caught?

So you tried to be more casual about it. You pulled yourself into various tasks around the house and occasionally glanced out the window to see what Rio was up to. You must have missed her running out of water- because now you look up to find rio clicking the head of the garden hose and turning it on at a low pressure.

Her mouth sits open and she holds the hose above her and to the side. As she drinks from the stream you’re conflicted, unsure of whether you want to be the hose or be Rio while she’s the hose.

Not like that…

You justify to no one in your mind. It just reminds you of Rio drinking up your juices. And the one time you squirted with her lips wrapped around your cunt and you made a mess all over her face. The release had been pure ecstasy…

You wonder if that’s how it feels for Rio when she cums down your throat.

“Boo!” Agatha pinches your sides and you screech in shock.

“Agatha, what the fuck!” You whisper-yell at her trying to keep her quiet.

Her brow raises dangerously at you, a silent question of: ‘Agatha?’

Before she can question your use of her full name, and frankly your tone, she follows your gaze. You see her swallow and the beginnings of a blush color her cheeks.

“Oh…” her understanding meets yours in kind.

You both let your eyes linger on Rio for a moment before Agatha snakes her arms under yours, resting her hands on the counter and pinning you there. She nuzzles your ear before whispering:

“Do you wish it was you making a mess on Daddy’s face, bunny?”

“I—“

“I bet we could make that happen. Hmm? I could make you ride my cock. I’d even let you choose which one. Though…” she chuckles dangerously, “I know you like how thick my purple one is. When I fuck you with it I know you feel it right here.”

Her drawl on the word ‘right’ toys with you and you groan when her cool hand rests at your lower belly, right above your waistline.

“I’d say I’d fuck your ass, but Daddy would be too tempted to breed your cunt. I wouldn’t want to distract her from sucking your needy little clit.” Her coo is shaped through a pitiful pout, “Then how would you be able to make a mess all over her face, bunny?”

Your skin catches fire and you’re certain you are moments away from burning the whole house down.

“Do you remember when you squirted all over her face?” A pause…she wants an answer.

“Yes.” Is all you are capable of mustering and she chides you gently in response.

“Yes what, love?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Good, bunny.” Her praise melts you into her frame. “Did you notice that Daddy never pulled away? In fact, I’m positive I saw her try and get closer.”

You hadn’t noticed… You question the validity of Agatha’s claim, but know she has no reason to lie.

“I think Daddy liked you being our little super soaker. Do you think you’d be able to do it again? If Mommy fucked into you while Daddy ate you out? I bet it’d be easy to make you explode.”

As if on queue, Rio let the water from the hose fall over her forehead and down her chest.

“What if shes imagining that’s you, bunny? Would you give Daddy what she wants?”

Agatha’s hand slips into your shorts, groaning when she finds you aren’t wearing any underwear. She grunts and ruts into you when she’s met with your folds already being slick and white hot. She rubs lazy circles over you and you wish you could see her face.

“I could bottom out in one go. Grab your hips and yank you down til your ass is rubbing against my hips. You’d be whining, but the stretch would feel so, so good. Daddy would be at the end of the bed, stroking her cock. You’d want to taste her precum but I wouldn’t let you. You'd be too busy getting fucked like the good little slut you are for me. So good at taking Mommy’s cock…”

“Are you imagining it, baby? Me grabbing your sweet little throat,” her free hand wraps around the front of your neck for emphasis and you have no control of the harsh buck of your hips. “Can you hear it? Your ass smacking against me? It’s so loud, bunny…”

“Fuck… Yes, Mommy.”

You aren’t entirely sure where your body ends and Agatha’s begins. Perhaps if you’ve merged into one then she knows just how good she’s making you feel. You wiggle in an effort to get her to slip her fingers inside.

“Greedy today, aren’t we?” Her voice teeters on a growl, but her chuckle mists the possessiveness in her tone. “You don’t need my fingers, baby. Remember? Mommy has her cock buried in you.”

You are a fucking mess. You’d give anything for her words to be true.

“How does it feel to have Mommy rail you, hmm?”

“So fucking good.” You pant.

“Yeah? I bet I could make you our little super soaker without even making you squirt.”

She is supporting most of your weight now and the subtle strain in her voice is delicious. You don’t have any time to consider what she means before she is husking at your ear.

“Is that what you want, bunny? For Mommy to fuck the piss out of you?”

Your body freezes, burning so hot that you feel cold.

Fuck the piss—?

Your thought barely forms into confusion when Agatha slams three fingers into you, curling them so purposefully your knees buckle.

“Jesus, fuck—“ you squeeze your eyes shut and you’re certain you open them, but you can’t see a thing.

“Maybe you’ll squirt first…maybe you’ll just think you’re going to. But no, baby. That’s just Mommy’s cock ramming into you.”

She is nearly battering your insides but your body only tries to suck her in deeper than her fingers can reach. The squelching noises coming from your cunt are filthy and only get louder when she drags her teeth against where your shoulder meets your neck.

“Such a naughty little bunny. Your pussy must really like what Mommy is saying.”

You clench at the way she coos in contrast of her harsh ministrations. Coherent thoughts are beyond you and your bones are jelly. If Agatha were to let go you’d fall to the floor.

“It’s okay, baby. I love that you’re this wet just imagining me fucking the piss out of you. And Daddy would be right there…letting you soak her just like she’s soaked right now.”

You groan at the thought of both women’s attention. If Agatha wants it, and if Rio wants it, you certainly aren’t one to deny them. You’ve always said you’d try anything once… Here in Agatha’s arms the thought of letting yourself go sounds like a dream. Even when you’ve squirted before, you always tried to hold back. What would it be like to give yourself to their whims so completely?

“Look at Daddy, bunny.” She removes her hand from your throat and harshly grips your chin, forcing you to lock your gaze onto where Rio is now stripping her soaked cut off and throwing it over her shoulder.

All you can do is whimper pathetically. She’s so fucking sexy and you’ll give her anything she wants. If she wants to lick your pussy while Agatha fucks you so hard your body has no choice but to piss everywhere…

“The next time she’s that wet it’s gonna be because of you. She’ll have her tongue buried in your cunt, licking from your clit to my cock. I’ll be right here whispering to you while you let me fill you up so full that if I hit just the right spot…fuck you at just the right angle…you’ll explode.”

You may as well be her puppet. Of fucking course you’d let them ravage you. They can have all of you. Whatever they want, it’s theirs.

“I know it’s hard to hold it all in. Such a big job…” she coos, “You’ll be a mess…a little rag doll for Mommy and Daddy to use. You’ll have held on for so long… It’ll be so easy to just…let go.”

Agatha bites your ear lobe and you yelp. Your insides are tight, throbbing coils and your body is buzzing in static tingles. She quickly retrieves her hand from your shorts and holds her fingers to your lips. She doesn’t wait for you to grant entry, she just slides them in and out until she’s determined they’re clean.

Your body is screaming for release. You’ve never been so aware of the weight that sits just above your cunt. Does your clit always throb when you have to pee this bad? Through the fog of whiplash you recognize a small gush your body clamps to contain.

Did you just… Was that…?

You try and subtly cross your legs, but the shift in pressure is just a threat to a dam that is moments away from bursting. She chuckles against your back and you know she’s clocked your uncomfortable wiggling. You can feel the smug pride radiating off of her.

“Or who knows,” she shrugs and pulls away, unpinning you from the counter. “Maybe Daddy wants to be the super soaker this time. You’d look so cute getting pissed on by Daddy, bunny.”

Agatha’s smile is sweet as pie and a far cry from the filthy images she is planting in your mind. She leaves you there- a confused, horny mess that really, really has to pee. She’s sauntering away and you let her put some distance between you before you make a beeline for the bathroom. Unfortunately, she quickly cuts you off and slips into the bathroom.

Her smiles oozes kindness, but her eyes remind you who’s really in charge here. Perhaps that’s why your protest dies in your throat as she shuts the door and latches it, leaving you a desperate mess in the most unfamiliar, but certainly most delicious way.

*---*

Psssssst…I continued this…

Looking for more? -> AO3 | My Fics

[jooyeonsvape]

— good morning love

genre; smut

w/c; 0.8k

pairings; husband!beomgyu, female!reader

warnings; morning sex, dry humping, talk of titty fucking, dirty talk, pet names.

[masterlists]

a/n; i was going to do a beomgyu fluff but then i saw that picture and changed my mind reallll quick 😮‍💨 i hope you enjoy! check out my other work!! <3

the sound you hate the most in the world is your alarm clock ringing, but you knew if you turned it off, you’d sleep all day.

with a groan, you reach over and hit snooze, then look down to see your husband beomgyu’s arms wrapped around you.

it was his day off but you completely forgot, you turn over and give his soft cheek a kiss then untangle yourself from his body, even though you wanted to stay there.

since he was off, you take a shower with all of his favorite scents and go downstairs to make a grand breakfast for him. usually you just drink tea and eat at lunchtime but he loves when you make him homemade waffles.

after an hour in the kitchen, you walk up the stairs to see beomgyu sprawled across the bed and you lean down to give his cheek another kiss.

“baaaabbbby.” you sing in a soft tone and you see his face twitching. “wake up, i made you waffles, eggs, and spam.” you say in the same sing-song voice.

beomgyu mumbles something incoherently and you huff, putting your hands on your hips. “come on, i spent like 3 hours on it.” you were being dramatic, but anything to get his eyes open.

he looks at you with one eye and opens his arms wide so you’d lay down with him. “choi beomgyu, i am not going back to bed.” you giggle at his cuteness and see his cheeky smile spread across his face.

with a groan you lay down in his arms, facing away from him so his head was burrowed in your neck. “we can stay like this for 5 minutes.” you mumble but secretly want to stay in his arms forever.

after a good 10 minutes, you were on the verge of falling asleep while you listen to his soft breathing. “okay baby let’s get u-“ your words and movements were cut off by beomgyu tightening his grip around you.

“did you take a shower?” he asks simply in your ear and you nod. beomgyu sighs in your neck and you can hear him sniffing in scents.

“i love the way you smell.” beomgyu’s whispers sent chills down your spine and he presses against your back.

your eyes shoot open when you feel his hard on rubbing against the fabric of your pajama bottoms. “are you?” you try to turn around but he had a strong grip on you still.

although he’s usually playful and sweet during your intimacy sessions, this side of him turns you on just as much.

beomgyu never wore clothes to bed so you can feel his exposed dick running up and down your ass cheeks, growing harder as he goes.

he leans down and kisses your neck weakly then lets out a shaky moan in your ear which made you instantly soaked in your shorts just by his noises.

he pulls your shorts down to your calfs and looks down at your ass as he continues rubbing against your cheeks, “this feels so good.”

beomgyu stuffed his face back in your neck and breathes heavy, knowing him, he was close. “good boy, keep going.” you encouraged and he leaves more tender kisses on the side of your neck.

“keep talking.” he begs and you blush, the two of you never had sex like this before and it was thrilling. “cum on my ass baby boy, i want to feel it drip on my pussy.”

beomgyu lets out a growl and fastens his pace, gripping both ass cheeks in his hands so he could spread them wide. “maybe next time you can do this to my titties and cum on my chest,” you continue and reach your hand down to play with your clit.

“i’m about to-“ he groans then tilts his head back before he shoots a string of cum on your ass and thighs.

beomgyu continued his movements until his high was over and he loosens his grip on you. the two of you sat in silence for a minute while his breathing evens out and you clean yourself with tissue next to the bed. he gives your butt a playful slap. “good morning love.”

you blush and turn around so you’re facing your husband, “good morning.” you smile wide at his silliness and kiss his lips. “were you serious about the titty thing?” he asks, opening one eye to look at you.

you nod and he closes his eyes, “and the waffles?” you giggle at his eye opening again and you continue to nod. “i’ll get them for you, we can eat in bed.” you stand up from the bed and pull up your shorts, “this is why i married you.” beomgyu calls out when you leave the room and you roll your eyes at his silliness.

[girlboypersonthingy]

I NEEED possessive Blitzø after striker was flirting with reader in season 1 episode 5

maybe leading to yknow

can I be 💿 anon?

I’m literally screaming over this request, holy shit! Yes yes yes, been craving some Blitzø writing. I’ve finally made it 😮‍💨 of course you can be 💿 anon. You’re actually the first anon to claim an emoji! So yeah…thanks for requesting, nonnie. Enjoy! 🖤

Notes: gn!reader, established relationship

TW: not really smut but very suggestive, still gender neutral reader, making out, heavy touching, a little dirty talk, teasing, Blitzø using his tail 🤤 possessive Blitzø 18+ only please

Blitzø x reader - Jealousy 🥀

Watching from your spot in the bleachers, sat beside Moxxie and Millie, you let your pride and admiration for Blitzø burst out of you in the form of screaming, cheering and clapping. Of course Blitzø just had to participate in the pain games. You watched as he showed off his skills, stamina and strength all day during the pain games and, to put it simply, you were in awe of him. He and that shady farm hand, Striker, were neck and neck all day. Sure, you’ve seen him at work before, you’ve watched him take the lives of so many living people, you’ve watched him take on unexpected enemies with ease…but this was just a game. Some harvest festival bullshit, that’s what he called it. If that’s all it is, why is he trying so hard to beat some dumb farm hand? Regardless of his reasoning, you supported him through and through, cheering him on from the audience as Stolas announces him and Striker to be tied for first place. “FUCK YEAH, BLITZ!!! WHOOOO!!!”

Hearing his name bellow from your chest in a high pitched yell caught his attention, head turning towards the sound as his eyes lock onto you sitting in the crowd. A smile tugs at his lips as he lifts one of his big hands to give you a wave. Simultaneously, Striker shoots you a devious glare, smirking as he winks at you and waves his hand back at you. The sight of him looking at you with those eyes just…made you shiver. What a creep. Did he really think you were waving at him? As if! But now you notice Blitzø frowning, teeth bared and hands now balled up into tight fists of rage. He was fuming, looking as if he was actively growling and you could see him shaking slightly.

Finally, Blitzø stomps his way off the stage and is on his way to you. This prompts you to jump up and go to him. Carefully shuffling through the crowd, you find Blitzø still looking more pissy than usual. “Hey, you kicked ass, babe! You totally deserved first place. Fuck that other guy.” Your immediate shit talking brings a smirk to Blitzø’s face for just a second before it turns back to a bitter frown. “Blitz… You did your best and I think your best is waaaaay better than that stupid, tacky cowboy and-“

Without letting you get another word in, without even worrying about the fact that you’re in a crowd of wrathians right now, Blitzø grips your wrist and yanks you into him. His lips come smashing into yours, almost painfully at first, but it soon becomes a sloppy, soft, open mouth kiss. And then his other hand falls on your hip for a moment before sliding down to gently fondle your ass. As your lips move messily against his, a surprised ‘hmph!’ comes from your throat when you feel his hand give your butt a squeeze. Quickly pulling back and sucking in a breath, “Blitzø! What’s gotten into you?” You ask with a shy smile, watching as he stumbles further towards you, practically drunk off your lips. “I’m better than him?” He repeats what you had said just a minute ago, his eyes now hungry and darting all over your face and body. “Psh! Of course you are.” Responding with another quick kiss to his lips, you watch as his smile gradually widens, his eyes never leaving your now blushy face.

Then it dawns on you- oh my god he’s jealous. You think back to when you had first met Striker and Millie’s parents, the way Striker was looking you up and down, when he kissed the back of your hand and called you ‘gorgeous’. Yuck. Makes you cringe just thinking about him touching you. What was it he said to you? Something like... ‘You probably have a man, considering how good lookin’ you are…but you should forget about him and come visit me in my room tonight, little one. I’ll show you what a real man is like.’ That’s probably what has Blitzø so annoyed and needy for you…and so pissed that he was tied for first place with that asshole.

Suddenly, Blitzø is dragging you along behind him as you both push through the crowd and make your way back to Millie’s parents’ house. “You okay?” You question softly from behind him. “I will be.” He responds immediately, you can hear the smirk he’s wearing from his tone of voice. In a flash, he’s got you into the guest room he was staying in, flattened out against the bed with him on top of you, his lips unforgiving and desperate against your own.

“Oh~ Jeez, Blitz…Im only yours. You know that right?.” Your lips part finally but he moves back in fast, his lips meeting your neck and slowly kissing down your chest. “Mhm. Tell me more.” He commands between kisses then lets his long, forked tongue drag along your exposed collar bone. “Ah~! I’m all yours. You’re the only one I w-want…fuck.” You lose all focus as Blitzø’s tail slithers up and around your thigh, the pointed end of it gently swiping up and down your crotch. “Blitzzzzz…” Your own moan surprises you a bit but when you look down at Blitzø still enjoying the taste of your collar bone, he’s obviously enjoying this waayyyy too much.

“C’mon…tell me more.” He carefully but firmly grips your face in his hand, his face just inches from yours now and he looks deadly serious, his big eyes searching your face. He’s making you look at him, despite how red your face is and how badly you want to find another spot to rest your gaze. “Who do you belong to?” It comes out of him in a low growl, his mouth back against your skin. “You. You, baby. I’m all yours, Blitz.” You take a moment to enjoy the feeling of his teeth scraping against your neck. “Listen…If this is about when Striker hit on me earlier, you know I-“

“Don’t… don’t say his name. Ever again.” His tone is almost frightening but the expression of pride and satisfaction on his face makes you bite down hard on your lip, your legs quivering as his tail continues to tickle up against your inner thigh. “S-s-sorry…” is all you can mumble out before impulsively reaching up to grab his face and bring it close to yours, continuing the make out session. “Keep saying my name.” He groans into the kiss as your hands begin to travel his body, feeling up his chest and down his sides.

“F-fuuck~ Blitz. Oh! Hmmmm~ Blitz, I love you…I’m all yours, B-Blitzzzzz~.” And now he just can’t control himself, physically or verbally. He completely unravels right before your eyes, huffing as his hands grip your hips, tugging at the waist band of your pants. “Fuuuuuck~ you’re so hot. Yeah, baby. You’re aaaaalllll mine. Only I get to have you like this, only I get to kiss that pretty mouth of yours.” The dirty talk is starting to get to both of you, pulling whines and whimpers from you as Blitzø starts to literally rip your clothes- not fully rip them off of you but his grip on the belt loops of your jeans right now is almost scary. The tighter he grips, the more you hear the seams of the clothing popping.

Just when you thought he would finally yank your pants off and fuck the shit out of you, Blitzø pulls back, checks his phone, then uses the waist band of your pants to pull you up to your feet. He pushes you towards the door, placing a hard smack to your ass before again nudging you forward. “W-what? Where are we-“ You ask, confused and weak at the knees. He holds up his phone, showing a text from Moxxie about Striker and his plan to kill Stolas. “We got a tacky cowboy to get rid of.” You sigh and trudge forward, disappointed and extremely horny now.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you.” Blitzø grabs ahold of your hand and gives you a flirty look as he continues walking. He gestures back at the bed behind you two. “I’ll be sure to pound you into that mattress so hard you won’t even remember that piece of shit’s name.”

[purplecoffee13]

im a sucker for morning sex like, almost half asleep, barely talking, just quiet moans 😋Maybe friends to lovers

Ooh, yes!!! Absolutely love this concept😮‍💨

It’s a bit short, but I wrote this blurb around it just now. It’s currently 2am, but the inspiration struck and I just had to write it down!! (srry not srry😎😋) I hope it meets your expectations!!!

Thank you for requesting!!!💘

************************************************

Your eyelids softly flutter open at the warmth of the sunlight shining on your face. The harsh light makes you squint, and it makes you realize where you are, and with who. The arm wrapped around you confirmed enough, and you smile as you look at the inked arm draping over your frame.

You and Harry had been friends for forever, and you would hold movie nights almost every week. It often got very late, and the two of you would fall asleep in the couch.

Last night was no different. You had had a busy day at work, and was absolutely exhausted. You fell asleep mid movie, and you realize that Harry must’ve carried you to bed. You smile at that revelation, filled with a surge of love for your best friend.

In order to get the sunlight out of your face, you shift around, moving backwards a bit so your eyes aren’t being bothered by the harsh light. Your eyes widen when you feel something brush against your ass. Something that you are 99% sure you should absolutely not be feeling.

There is an increasing heat between your legs that you don’t even know the exact logistics of. It is like your body is telling you something you haven’t dared to consider before.

You try to move your hips forward a bit, attempting to stop the awkwardness. After all, Harry’s asleep, so you can go back to sleep and act like this never happened on a couple of hours.

That’s when you feel Harry’s grip on your waist tightening as he pulls your body back into him, his hardness now firmly pressed between your ass cheeks. You softly gasp at the sudden motion, and your heat begins to ache at the imagination of what could be.

The sole image in your head of him putting that dick inside of you makes you subconsciously grind your hips against him a bit, hoping to relieve some of the frustration that has been starting to build.

You try to be subtle about it, but the pain of being untouched begins to be too unbearable. Your stomach tenses when Harry’s hand suddenly begins to inch lower and lower, going under the waist band of your underwear and shorts, and finding your clit.

Rubbing drawn out circles on your hot wet cunt makes you sigh out in relief. His touch feels far too good to even second guess what the fuck the two of you are doing. The hitched breaths slowly morph into hushed whimpers, the faster Harry’s fingers work your pussy.

When he starts to leave love bites on your neck, you explode. Moaning out his name, you come all over his fingers, letting the pleasure hit you in the waves like it always does.

Without another word, Harry pulls down your shorts and underwear, which you take off completely with the help of your own legs. Arching into him, you wait as Harry takes out his hard cock and rub the tip against your now soaking wet pussy.

“Y’sure?” Harry’s rough morning voice asks, and it is enough to almost have you orgasm again. The low baritone sound is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. You nod furiously.

“Yes, please. I need it.” You plead with him. Harry clearly doesn’t need to be asked twice, because he immediately pushes himself into you. You mewl at his long, deep thrusts. Each one hits just the right spot in a new, unexpected way.

There aren’t many words shared between the two of you, solely the sounds of your bodies intertwining with each other. His hand finds one of your breasts and fondles it as you both keep pushing into each other.

You bring your own fingers to your clit, working yourself closer to the second orgasm that is already brewing. Just the sounds of his heavy breathing and the beating of his heart would give you that wave of your euphoria.

Then a groan escapes Harry’s lips, but not just a groan. No, he groans your name, right in your ear, followed by a whispered profanity, as he drives himself deeper into you.

Forget the breaths and the heartbeat, the sound of your name rolling off his tongue in a situation like this is what brings you over the edge so quickly again. Your walls clench around him repeatedly as you softly cry out his name.

“F- fuck… shit.” Harry sighs after his thrusts come to a halt. With his face buried in your neck, he softly bites into your shoulder as he comes inside of you.

The feeling of his seed coating every bit of your walls drives your mind absolutely insane.

Harry stays inside of you as you both catch your breath. You can quite literally hear the pounding of your heartbeat ringing in your ear, and you can’t help but let out a breathy chuckle. Harry joins you in your soft, short-lived laughter.

You turn your head towards him, and Harry leans up a bit to meet your face as well. With a big smile, he looks you right in the eyes. No hint of regret, only a smug grin and a clear desire to repeat.

“Good morning.” You say in a joking tone. Harry observes the rest of your face, and pushes a strand of hair behind your ears before he responds.

“Very good morning.”

[thef1diary]

adding max to the boss!daniel drabble? GENIUS. am i smelling potential for enemies to fuckbuddies?😮‍💨

think very glamorous event with various ceos there and of course sooner rather than later you run into max 🤭

🩵

— yess that was such a good idea, thank you to the nonnie who sent it in! It’s inevitable to run into Max, but uh oh, you also happen to be seated right between your boss and his biggest corporate rival for dinner. 18+ content below

The gala was opulent—crystal chandeliers, gilded décor, the hum of high-stakes conversations floating through the air. You stayed close to Daniel’s side, his hand a constant presence on the small of your back, subtly guiding you through the crowd as you mingled with the elite. His natural charm was magnetic, drawing people in, but his fingers occasionally flexed against your spine, a private reminder of exactly who you belonged to.

Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you were halfway down the hall when a voice stopped you. Max. Of course. His smirk was as sharp as ever, his eyes raking over you with an intensity that made your breath catch. The memory of him watching you from afar the other day, pressed against the window with Daniel pounding into you, burned in your mind. You could barely focus on what he was saying—some pleasantry about the event, his tone casual, but his gaze said so much more.

Before the conversation could go any further, Daniel appeared out of nowhere, his presence instantly commanding. He didn’t have to say a word. The possessive grip he slid around your waist was enough. Max’s smirk faltered slightly, but he didn’t look away. “Enjoying the party?” Max asked, almost provocatively, but Daniel simply guided you back toward the ballroom without answering, his grip firm.

Seated at dinner, you found yourself sandwiched between them—Max on your left, Daniel on your right. The tension was palpable, a silent battle brewing between the two men. Daniel’s hand found your knee under the table, the weight of it grounding at first. But then it began to slide upward, inch by torturous inch, the fabric of your dress riding up with it.

You tried to keep your composure, but when his fingers brushed against your bare inner thigh, your breath hitched audibly. Max glanced your way, his brows raising slightly as he caught the subtle flush creeping up your neck. His lips parted, as if he wanted to say something, but Daniel’s quiet laugh cut through the moment.

“Everything alright?” Daniel asked smoothly, his voice low enough that only the two of you could hear. His fingers didn’t stop their ascent, slipping higher until they found your slick cunt. “You’re awfully quiet, Max.”

Max’s eyes flicked downward, and you saw the moment he realized what was happening. His jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists on the table as his gaze snapped back to Daniel’s, now blazing with barely concealed fury.

“Just surprised you let her talk to me earlier,” Max said, his tone sharp, his words laced with challenge. “Thought you’d be more careful with your… assets.”

Daniel’s smirk widened, dangerous and smug, as his fingers pushed inside you, curling in just the right way to make your thighs twitch. You barely managed to stifle a gasp, your hand gripping the edge of the table.

“Careful, Max,” Daniel drawled, his voice dripping with mock concern. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.” He added another finger, his movements slow and deliberate, the wet sound of his motions faint but unmistakable.

Max’s gaze flickered back to you, catching the way your chest rose and fell a little too quickly, your lip caught between your teeth as you tried to maintain composure. His nostrils flared, his frustration visible as he leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice.

“Does she always let you do all the work?” Max muttered, his tone scathing, but there was a flicker of heat in his eyes that he couldn’t hide. “Or is she just that desperate to keep her position?”

Daniel chuckled darkly, his free hand resting on your thigh, pressing you down as if to keep you in place. His fingers inside you didn’t falter, pushing deeper, his pace steady and calculated. “You’re awfully bold for someone who wouldn’t be able to handle her,” Daniel shot back, his gaze locking with Max’s. “But I get it. Watching is all you’re good for, isn’t it?”

Max’s knuckles whitened as he gripped his fork, but he didn’t look away. His eyes lingered on the subtle movements under the tablecloth, the faint tremble in your body that betrayed just how close you were.

“She doesn’t seem to mind the attention,” Max countered, his tone sharp but laced with something darker, hungrier. His gaze dropped to your flushed cheeks, then back to Daniel. “Maybe she likes knowing someone else is watching her fall apart.”

Daniel’s grin turned feral, his fingers curling just right to send you over the edge. Your body shuddered, your breath hitching in a way that had Max’s pupils dilating, the tension at the table almost unbearable.

“Keep dreaming, Max,” Daniel said, his tone cold, his hand pulling back as if to punctuate his dominance. He brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving Max’s. “This is as close as you’ll ever get to having her.”

Max’s expression darkened further, the heat in his gaze now edged with frustration, but he stayed silent, his fists clenched at his sides.

“Maybe if you finally get out of my way, I’ll let you have a little taste of her as a reward,” he added, watching Max raise his eyebrows, intrigued.

Daniel leaned into you, his voice low in your ear, but loud enough for Max to catch. “Maybe I should show him what a good cocksleeve you are, just to convince him.”

want more boss!daniel? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[qwordavoider]

🚒🚒🚒

Please

If you can't tell, I am finally making progress and have time to write. So here is another snippet for you today! Following from here

-

Buck hardly notices the door to the roof slamming into the wall as he pushes it open. He’s crying for real now, for the first time since that night. He doesn’t find himself sobbing or gasping, just breathing through the tears streaming down his face. Everyone just watched Eddie yell at him, and he feels shame warm his face as he thinks about everyone hearing what he had to say. Maybe Eddie was right. Buck just made a scene in front of everyone. He was making it all about him.

No.

He forces himself to stop that train of thought. He didn’t force Eddie to start yelling. He told Chim, who needed to know, and had planned to slip out of the station at the end of the shift without telling anyone else. He should’ve known that wouldn’t work, but it wasn’t his fault that Eddie decided to confront him so loudly in front of all of their coworkers. 

Why can’t Eddie just leave him alone?

That thought shocks him. Is that how you're supposed to think about your best friend? Praying that they don’t talk to you, hoping that they won’t notice you running away. Is that any way to live?

He needs to get out of his- Eddie's- that house.

-

Make me write

Finally down to just one ask left for this fic 😮‍💨 @moonydanny

[science-hoes]

WINE NIGHT PART TWOOOOOO 🥳

i’ve been thinking about slowly taking Jack apart on the couch after a rough shift all day, honestly. the early morning sun filtering through the curtains hung in the living room, all the time in the world to be soft & gentle. his quiet little gasps & grunts as he paws at your hips as you ride him until he’s begging for more.

yeah, that’s some damn good stuff right there. 😮‍💨

Ah yes, I can see it now 🤤

You’re not on the same shift as Jack right now. Once a month, you get thrown off night shift with him to make the day shift even with residents. Although you miss working beside your partner in crime, finishing his sentences, anticipating every medical decision, and offering kisses in between cases, you’re grateful to make your shared home welcome to him when he trudges through the door, dropping his army bag like the burden of his shift.

You look up from your mug of coffee and smile, raising your hand to your forehead in a fake salute. “Good morning, Lieutenant Colonel.” You tease.

Jack lets out a weary sigh, but he can’t help but play along with your antics, drawing a smile from the old man. “At ease, soldier.” His voice is too weak to feign authority.

You place the mug behind you on the side table before opening your arms. “Come tell me alllllll about it.” You coax him.

He’s not immune to how cozy and warm you look wrapped in one of the thirty blankets from HomeGoods you’ve convinced him was necessary. He kicks off his boots, paying extra attention to the right one, before collapsing on top of you.

Jack rambles about the night, mostly complaining, while you thread your fingers through his thick curls, twirling your index finger in the overgrown mane of silver. Occasionally, he sits up to meet your gaze when he tells you about a case that would’ve interested you or made your jaw drop. It makes you smile to know that he’s always thinking about you, even when you’re separated by the gods of shift scheduling.

At the end of his rambling, which is a while because Jack loves to talk, you rub his shoulder and neck muscles, eventually crawling out from under him to massage his thighs. Carefully, you remove his prosthetic and kneed your fingertips into the aching, sweaty stump and scar tissue. Disgraceful moans leave his lips as you work your magic.

This is how it always starts. Your ministrations of massaging his right leg always leads to sex. Probably because it’s such an intimate act of service, and now is no different. You see the hard on before you reach up to feel it, his dick pitching a tent in his black scrub pants.

“Oh, I’ll take care of that, doc.” You coo before straddling his lap.

That’s when he realizes you were only glad in his oversized Penguins jersey, not a trace of pajama shorts or panties to be found. Jack immediately groans when he feels your juices seep through the material of his scrubs and boxers, bucking up for more contact.

You unbutton his pants and draw his hardened cock out, rubbing the tip through your slick folds to prepare him. “I think you need a prescription for stress.” You tease before slowly lowering on his length. “Make sure to take this twice daily.”

Jack wants to laugh and respond with his notorious wit, but he’s putty in your hands. Every rock of your hips, every kiss on his neck, every tug of his hair pushes him closer and closer to the edge. He’s completely surrendered to you, begging for release.

“Please, baby doll.” He husks. “Please, let me-“

His voice is cut off with a vicious groan that pulls from deep within his chest as you begin to fully lift off his cock and plunge back down.

“Please what, Jackie?” You breathe, drawling out your intimate nickname for him.

Jack huffs and his face scrunches shut as he feels his release draw closer. “Please, let me come.”

There you have it. Your stoic soldier. Your combat veteran. Your sweet Jackie. Begging for you to let him come.

How can you say no to that?

You lean forward, lips ghosting the shell of his ear. “Let go, baby.” You hum, bouncing impossibly faster on his dick.

It’s only a few more thrusts before Jack is spilling endlessly into your pussy, threatening to break the sound barrier with his moans. He’s mumbling your name like a prayer while he reels from his high, pulling your body flush against his.

“Thank you.” It’s almost a whimper, but there’s still some strength behind it.

You’re in charge of aftercare, you decide. You disappear to the bathroom for a damp washcloth before returning. You clean his slick cock before yourself. His eyes are nearly shut when you drag him to the bedroom, tucking him in with a glass of water by the counter.

Sleep overcomes him quickly, and you snuggle up against his large frame for just a few more minutes before starting your day. Maybe an hour. Maybe a few hours. Sometimes you just fall asleep next to him anyway because you know he’ll sleep better when you’re by his side.

[teapartyprincess4two]

heyyy can u pls do sfw/nsfw matt with tough gf😮‍💨😮‍💨

Tough- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Tough!reader x Boyfriend!Matt

classification: SFW & NSFW head cannons

inspiration: request^^

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship

summary: head cannons of Matt with a tough girlfriend!

—

☆SFW

For your entire life you’ve been classified using one word: tough. You’re extremely resilient, stubborn, and hardworking, and these are all qualities Matt loves about you.

☆ You refuse to ask for help, even when you desperately need it and most times Matt doesn’t even know you needed help to begin with.

☆ A flat tire stares back at you, taunting and challenging you to change it.

☆ You roll up your sleeves and throw your hair up in a pony tail, gathering the tools necessary to swap the tire out.

☆ Sweat is dripping down your face and glistening against your shoulders. “Babe? What are you doing?” Matt asks, watching tentatively from the porch.

☆ “Changing this damn tire,” you grunt, tightening the last bolt before throwing the wrench back into the tool box.

☆ You prefer comfort so your wardrobe is a mix between girly and tomboy, consisting mainly of graphic t-shirts and baggy jeans.

☆ “I’m ready,” you say, hopping off the last step as you enter the living room.

☆ Matt leans against the couch, peering behind him to catch a glimpse of you. “Is that my shirt?” he asks, getting up to examine your outfit better.

☆ “Yup. Let’s go, we’re gonna be late,” you reply, placing a cap over your straightened hair and adjusting your plethora of necklaces.

☆ “She lowkey got that shit on though,” Chris chuckles from beside Matt, earning himself a playful push.

☆ Sometimes you don’t measure your words or your tone, forgetting that you’re talking to your boyfriend and not one of your ‘homies.’

☆ When the conversation is normal, he ignores it. But when your tone meanders into rude territory, he immediately puts an end to it.

☆ “Dude, what the fuck?! I cleaned that shit yesterday! How is it already dirty, bro?” you exclaim, hands pointing accusatorially at Matt.

☆ “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just talk to me like that,” he responds, jaw clenched. “Let’s start over, yeah?”

☆ You take a deep breath, exhaling all your anger before replying, “Babe, what the heck?! I cleaned that thing yesterday! How is it already dirty, baby?”

☆ Matt knows you threw the pet names in there for show, but he appreciates you trying, even if it is laced with sarcasm.

☆ You’re insanely strong and when you’re not at home or at work, you’re at the gym.

☆ “I’ll be back in like an hour, okay? We can order something for dinner when I get back,” you peck Matt’s check, slinging your duffel back over your shoulder.

☆ “Hmm okay,” he murmurs, delivering a quick slap to your ass.

☆ Matt’s grateful that you aren’t overly affectionate in public, mostly because he’s extremely reserved and prefers to keep your relationship private.

☆ The most you’ll do is hold his hand, hug him, or kiss his cheek. Sometimes you’ll be even less affectionate when around his friends and siblings.

☆ That doesn’t mean you don’t mark your territory though, especially when you get jealous.

☆ “Hi baby,” your voice is high-pitched and excited, a very unusual mix coming from you. You cling to Matt’s side as another girl tries chatting him up.

☆ “Hi,” he replies, wrapping an arm around you and resting his hand on your ass. He’s slightly confused, but quickly realizes you’re jealous.

☆ When you start kissing, the girl finally gets the hint and leaves. “Dumb bitch,” you grumble, pulling away from Matt slightly.

☆ He chuckles and pulls you back in, showing you he only has eyes for you.

☆ “Need help?” Matt asks from behind you, watching as you struggle to reach something from the top shelf.

☆ “Nope. Almost got it,” you reply, your tongue poking out in concentration.

☆ Matt pushes against your backside, wrapping a strong arm around your waist as he reaches over you.

☆ “Here,” he hands the item to you, watching the frustration leave your face.

☆ Arguments, although they’re few and far between, can escalate very quickly between you two.

☆ You’re both stubborn, so no matter what you always believe you’re right.

☆ Angry, hurtful words are exchanged and before you know it you’re both storming off in opposite directions.

☆ You’re not one to cry easily, but if the argument is frustrating enough the tears will start flowing.

☆ “Y/n?” Matt asks tentatively, peering into your shared bedroom to find you curled up under the blankets. Your small sniffles fill the room.

☆ A frown forms on his face as he joins you under the covers, immediately you pulling into him. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, pecking your forehead. “Me too,” you hiccup, burying your face in his chest.

☆ You’re not afraid to slap Matt’s ass, especially after he does it to you.

☆ At first he used to hate it, but now he knows to expect it.

☆ Usually you’ll sneak your hand into the back pocket of his pants afterwards, walking around like that no matter where you are.

☆ A long list of to-do’s is constantly forming in your mind, even on your days off, and you’re not afraid to get bossy so it can all get done.

☆ “Matt, you mow the lawn and wash the cars. I’ll clean the house and do the laundry,” you instruct.

☆ “So bossy,” he laughs.

☆ “Or you can just do all of it?” you suggest with a quirked brow and a sassy hand on your hip. “No ma’am, I’m going.”

☆ “Mhm that’s what I thought.”

☆NSFW

Your tough girl attitude can sometimes get you in trouble, earning you punishments that put you in your place.

☆ When you’re together in private, Matt sees a side of you that you never show the world.

☆ You’re sweet and soft, juxtaposing the tough girl demeanor you usually display. If you ever act up in public, though, Matt is quick to remind you of this when you’re in private.

☆ “Wanna act stupid? Yeah?” He grunts, hips rocking against you at an ungodly pace.

☆ You whimper, too fucked out to respond. “That’s what I fucking thought,” his harsh words are followed by a hand wrapping around your throat.

☆ Your smart mouth is usually what gets you in trouble. “You think you look cute talking to me like that? Embarrassing me in front of all our friends?”

☆ He holds a firm grip of your face, forcing you to make eye contact as you reply with a hum.

☆ That’s enough for him to shove you into the bed, face down ass up. He slips into you without hesitation, hips snapping so harshly against your skin that the sound echoes throughout the room.

☆ “Not gonna stop until you learn your lesson,” he growls, pulling your hair into a ponytail and using it as leverage to fuck you harder.

☆ The pleasure is so good that you don’t even want it to stop, you just use your smart remarks to egg him on.

☆ Other times, your attitude travels into the bedroom and you have Matt beneath you completely overstimulated.

☆ “Y/n— fuck! I can’t anymore,” his words are choked, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries to focus on lasting longer.

☆ “Yes you can baby, I know you can” you purr, rocking your hips back and forth on his cock.

☆ Without another warning, his hips are stuttering as his hot cum paints your walls. That was his fourth orgasm and you show no signs of stopping soon.

☆ He loves teasing you because he knows you’ll get riled up enough to dominate him.

☆ He’s leaned against the headboard, eagerly awaiting your next move.

☆ You crawl over to him, situating yourself over his crotch. Instinctively, his hands travel to your hips, a firm grip pushing you down on his erection.

☆ A tsk escapes your lips, “You’re not gonna get what you want that easily, baby. You’re gonna have to work for it.”

☆ Your words put him in a trance and he’s ready to comply to your every command.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: she (me) is not tuff - L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

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