#the amount of r's rolled. man.

[mifithemuffin]

ah shit here we go again

[starkeyisthelastname]

OHHH ANOTHER THOUGHT!!!!!!!

idk how the porn community works HALSJKS but if its a thing to like ….. ship them ig??? … how would rafe react to r’s video with another dude being posted on twitter (maybe the first vid she’s made since her vid with rafe) and everyone’s in the comments being like “omg yas this is so hot!!!” “omg this is so much better than her and rafe!!” BALJEKS IDK

the first time someone’s talked negatively about him and it’s actually effected him 😅 he doesn’t like this ego being bruised

It was rare that Rafe checked social media, he just didn’t care about what people thought. He was pornstar and was used to being judged for his career choice and especially for the brutal way he fucked his costars. It was the Twitter notification he got though, with his name and your name tagged along with someone else’s who he didn’t know that caught his attention.

He opened the video, his blue eyes darkening as soon as he saw what it was. It was some nobody with a dick half the size of his, trying to make you cum. He could tell by the moans you were giving that it was all an act, and it ignited something in him he didn’t like. Watching another man fuck you, even if it was your job wasn’t something he particularly was a fan of. He had always loved pussy and money, and never once thought of ever quitting his rather successful porn career for anyone, until you started occupying his mind all day every day. He just couldn’t bring himself to end it yet, his addiction to sex and money way too deep.

As he went to exit out the app, a comment caught his eye. “Wow. She’s a pro at taking dick.” He scoffed as he read it out loud. What dick were you takin? That clown was the size of a pinky compared to him. It was the next one down that had his head raging in a way he had never experienced. ‘Her and @therafecameron video was weak compared to this. 🤣’ He seethed, these stupid idiots comments getting to him and bruising his extremely high ego. His knee bounced rapidly, thumb at the edge of his mouth as his mind raced wildly.

It was the phone, turned into landscape mode as Rafe’s long arm aimed it down to let it capture you taking dick. His free hand was wrapped in your hair, yanking your head back as he drilled into you at a brutal speed. The makeup you had on was smeared, tears streaming down your sparkly cheeks as he had some point to prove. He didn’t exactly say what, but it was a chance to get fucked by the man you were becoming obsessed with.

“Who’s fucking dick are you takin?” Rafe asked, his voice dripping venom as he yanked your head to make you look at him. His blue eyes, peered down at you in a predatory manner as he forced you to give him an answer.

The answer you gave was incoherent, your words coming out in babbles as an insane amount of pleasure was taking over your body. Your eyes rolled back, his huge dick tearing you apart as he wrapped his fist around your hair even harder. The phone that was recording the raw homemade scene was now shoved in your face, his hand on your head forcing you to look at the lens.

You were still so pretty, completely cock drunk off his monstrous ways as you were being his good personal whore. He leaned down, mustache brushing over your ear as he looked at the camera. It was quite a sexy sight to see his wild hair and striking blue iris’s making eye contact with the phone. “Tell them who’s dick your fuckin takin.” He spoke lowly, eyes watching your face through the screen. “Don’t make me repeat myself, I swear you’ll fucking regret it.” He gritted out, toned hips slapping against yours.

You cried out, his hand removing itself from your head to force your chin to look at the camera. You had no choice but to let out a loud whine, screaming the man’s name that you just wanted as yours. “Rafe Cameron! I’m t-takin Rafe Cameron’s dick!” Your voice cracking as you clamped down onto his cock.

As soon as heard that, a smirk came to his face and his nuts tightened. He tilted your chin towards him, sloppily kissing you with his tongue as the camera caught something Rafe never did with anyone. If the kissing wasn’t enough to make people a little shocked, it was that he posted it to his Twitter account, caption reading ‘The only dick that can get her screaming 😱 remember the fucking name bitches.’

[k4vehrtz]

WHORETICULTURE. various jjk men / sub gn. reader

synopsis. filled with lust for some fucking guy.

who. nanami kento / satoru gojo / toji fushiguro / heian era! sukuna . ✦ . what. one night stand / unprotected sex / mild religious themes/ thigh riding / slut shaming / against a wall / mean dom (or just brat)! satoru / exes with benefits / exhibition / recreational drug use + alcohol consumption ergo dubious consent / oral (r giving) / body betrayal / brat! reader / implied cnc kink + masochism / domination loss / mild degradation + nipple play / double penetration

notes. terms are kept general thus gender neutral reader but it’s entirely up to your interpretation. a mini compilation of thirsts i had while attempting to fight writer’s block and an unforgiving schedule.

⸻ ## I KNEW IT WHEN I. . .

MET HIM !

[ NANAMI KENTO ]

nanami kento was the embodiment of the traditional man in every sense. he was a businessman — clad in a white button–down, black slacks, and a matching tie hanging around his collar. five days a week, monday to friday, nine a.m. to five p.m. a true provider.

that much you can assume from observation alone. he’s not like the usual crowd; the man stands out. so, it’s only natural that you become curious.

“i’m not above sex before marriage,” and when he speaks, he takes his time to carefully enunciate each word with practised precision. something you didn’t know you were attracted to until now, straddling his thighs.

“somethin’ tells me you’re not just a—” he presses a finger to your lips, interjecting, “if you’re suspicious of me we can always stop,” and you quiet down, rocking your hips back and forth as you feel his erection grow beneath your crotch.

the backseat of his car is a tight fit but it makes it all the more intimate. remnants of nicotine on his breath waft across your face, warming your skin.

“the windows are tinted,” he murmurs, tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb, “it’s as private as it’s going to get,” before inserting the aforementioned finger into your mouth.

you smile to the best of your ability, wet muscle swirling around the salty digit as you maintain your grinding. slow and steady, purposeful movements that prompt just the right amount of friction between the two of you.

“isn’t this—” nanami interjects once more (you can barely get a word out), by way of pressing his thumb against your tongue thus causing a copious amount of saliva to cascade down your face. it’s wet and messy and done entirely for his own amusement. “we’re not celibate.”

[ SATORU GOJO ]

“do you—” he pauses mid–sentence, startling blue eyes fixated on his cock sliding in and out of your puffy entrance before continuing, “usually sleep with the stranger that saves you from a creep at the club or am i special?”

if you could’ve, you would’ve rolled your eyes. he’s talkative — too talkative but you find yourself enjoying the sound of his voice anyway. your hole quivers and tightens, gripping him like a vice at the implication that hangs between the two of you.

“i’m not easy ‘toru,” you protest in a weak attempt to sound firm though it leaves your parted lips as a breathy whine instead. and satoru smiles at that, chest rising and falling rapidly as he laughs.

“when did i say you were easy, stupid?” he asks, feigning innocence as he tilts his head to one side, bringing one hand up to your face to pat your cheek.

the action being somewhat degrading in its own sense. but ‘toru — satoru — was just like that. saying one thing and meaning or doing another. you couldn’t wrap your head around him.

and he revels in the fact, his smile continuing to grow; the type that meets his eyes and makes them crinkle ever so slightly.

“you wound me,” he tsks, bringing his lips closer to your ear as your body jolts upwards against the wall in sync with his cock bullying your hole, “all i meant by it was that we just met and look where we are now.”

‘it’s the same thing’ you think, but that’s all it is — a thought. when your lips part, you only vocalize a string of  moans. satoru was a labyrinth and you were lost in him — or rather the pleasure he provides.

“bet you’re already justifying this in your head.”

⸻ ## I LOVED HIM WHEN I. . .

LEFT HIM !

[ TOJI FUSHIGURO ]

“what —” he lifts the shot glass to his parted lips, “are you thinkin’ about?” before swallowing a mouthful of cheap liquor, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he does so.

it’s a good question; one you don’t know the answer to, but a good question all the same. you’re thinking about everything and anything while simultaneously not thinking at all — a blunt dangling haphazardly between your lips.

“you want to know what i’m thinkin’ about?” so you answer his question with a question like a smart ass instead, leaning in until you’re nose–to–nose with the man you swore you’d never see again. and he doesn’t hesitate, a half–smile playing on his lips as they ghost yours. they’re warm, lighting a fire beneath the surface of your skin in its wake.

“no, i don’t want to know,” he sing–songs in response, catching you somewhat off guard. what blindsided you though was him lowering the waistband of both his grey sweatpants and his boxers. his cock, exposed to the cool air of the alleyway, standing at full mast—a vein running from the base to the tip.

suddenly your mouth feels dry and your knees feel the slightest bit weaker. it’s muscle memory — or its evil cousin that encourages your body to betray you.

you’re sinking to your knees, blunt discarded somewhere on the concrete (for god’s sake, you don’t care). your lips part, cheeks hollowed and throat relaxed. quiet anticipation coursing through your veins as you feel the weight of his cock in your palms.

“you know what to do,” he rumbles from above you, picking at the beds of his nails. and he’s right, you do know what to do; how he likes it.

you take him into your mouth, dragging your tongue along the outline of his piercing some ways below the head of his cock. and toji lets out a satisfied groan. once, twice, and then a third time before you focus on taking his full length into your mouth inch by inch until he’s hit the back of your throat.

from there, you move your mouth along his length, tracing every inch of it with your tongue — imprinting its shape in your mind all over again. it’s more like refreshing an old memory rather than creating a new one.

“knew you’d—” he clenches his jaw, cock throbbing in your mouth as saliva mixed with his pre–cum slips past your lips stretched to capacity around him, “come back t’me.”

 [ HEIAN ERA! SUKUNA ]

“i’m—” your breath hitches, catching in your throat in sync with the rise of your shoulders, “many things my lord, but sorry isn’t one of them,” as your hips stutter.

momentarily. one hundred and twenty seconds.

it takes sukuna less than thirty seconds to capitalize on your fault. two hands wrap around your hips, nails pressed into the tender skin forming crescent-shaped indents. you’re forced to move to his rhythm now; cruel and unforgiving.

“should’ve focused on what’s important little one,” he clicks his tongue in feigned disappointment. he’s far from disappointed though, his cocks — both of them — buried to the hilt throb inside of you. and an onslaught of tears blur your vision; your mind is clouded by a myriad of sensations.

you’re somewhere between excruciating pain and unbelievable feats of pleasure.

“this isn’t—” you try, albeit with great difficulty as your words come in between gasps. but sukuna interjects, the corners of his lips curling upwards: “fair? stupid, this game of ours was never meant to be but you know that already.”

two more hands make contact with your skin after that exchange; two fingers on one hand pinching your nipple whereas the other holds your face in place so that you maintain eye contact with him.

and sukuna rolls his eyes as soon as your gazes meet though it’s a somewhat playful gesture. something most would find difficult to picture. but not you — never you.

“stop pretending to be a damsel in distress i’m not a—” he pauses mid–sentence, smile growing as he thrusts his hips, “well, i’m not that kind of monster,” the sound of his skin colliding with yours echoing throughout the room.

you whimper, staring at him through half–lidded eyes and a curtain of lashes wet with unshed tears: “i like what i like.”

 © k4vehrtz — all rights reserved. do not, under any circumstances, plagiarize / repost / translate my work.

[i23kazu]

GENSHIN MEN & FALLING ASLEEP WITH YOU .

characters. xiao zhongli diluc kaeya childe neuvillette x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. they r so eepy... | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

xiao falls asleep on your couch, exhausted with the overload of missions. and his sworn duty. you hastily pull a blanket over him as he snoozes – you notice that even when he's sleeping, he's never truly sleeping. there seems to always be that tinge of worry plastered on his face.

zhongli

zhongli falls asleep in your arms. he rarely takes the role of the small spoon – with his larger frame and taller body, he prefers to cuddle you to sleep instead. he rests peacefully, worry lines fading from his face. it's almost as if he's basking in his privilege of eternal youth again.

diluc

diluc falls asleep on your shoulder as the credits of beauty and the beast roll. his soft snores gently pierce the quietness of the room, as the music from the television fades out and the beast lays on your shoulder. he looks so young, no longer worn out by his work... he needs this kind of rest more often, you think.

kaeya

kaeya falls asleep, his head laying on your lap. the two of you had been winding down after dinner together, him resting against you as you read your book, and used his side as a table. you giggle softly as you take a picture to make the moment last forever. kaeya always insists on cuddling you instead, but when your prince falls asleep cuddling you? that's something to remember.

childe

childe falls asleep with you, lying against your side. the two of you had volunteered to babysit the children today, and all that running about and playing dress up and dolls and trucks and mr cyclops had truly taken it's toll on you. it's exhausting to keep up with teucer, when his big brother just simply didn't have the energy that day. it's adorable, and childe's mom snaps a picture.

neuvillette

neuvillette falls asleep, his head resting on your shoulder. the poor man had been worn out with the amount of work that had to be done recently, and not to mention his recent encounters with navia had left him more emotionally drained than it had in months. the children sing hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry! multiple times a week. you feel sorry for your husband, but he's so cute when he's exhausted.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)

reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-) they all go a long way!

[celiime]

୨ৎ — .ᐟ Him ‘n his stupid infinity! [Pt.3]

—> Part 3 belonging to the series of him ‘n his stupid infinity. Refer to part 1 and part 2 for earlier parts!

╰┈➤ Gojo Satoru is once more struck with the less than ideal dilemma of his cute underclassman hating him! It seems like no matter what he does, he always remains the object of your hatred—and he doesn’t even know why! Will today be the day where he finally has a chance to reduce your hatred? And maybe find out why you hate him?

Or in which, You hate Gojo Satoru! Him and his stupid limitless technique. Why does he only turn it on around you? A mere first year. Will today be the day you get some closure? Just why is his infinity activated at the mere sight of you?

warnings: fluff, literally one line of angst, reader is in denial and gojo is head over heels, they both r very loud students, takes place in 2006, reader is so cute…even gojo thinks so!! reader is a first year, gojo is a second year. ^.^

p.s—> i really enjoyed writing this! gojo n reader r my roman empire, i need them to get together soon ☹️ also— does anybody notice how gojo’s thoughts contain less exclamation marks when he’s not arnd reader? hehe—she just brings out the whiny man in him.

“I hate the rain! I hate umbrellas! Ughhh—“ A sniffle resounded from the classroom of the third years’ classroom, “Everything is working against me! Even her!”

“It’s peaceful.” His best friend, Geto, retaliated, throwing him a questioning look over his shoulder, “Since when do you not like the rain?”

His gaze traveled over to the six full plastic bags on Gojo’s desk, seemingly filled with all kinds of candies and snacks, did his best friend buy the whole convenience store or something?

“And do these…copious amounts of snacks have anything to do with it?” He thinks he could make quite a lucky guess.

For as long as Geto Suguru has known Gojo Satoru, it was always a silent fact acknowledged between them that Gojo has always been a fan of the rain—mainly due to the fact that he can activate his infinity at will whenever the rain pelts on him too hard.

But, who else does his infinity activate at will at?

“She hates me, Suguru.” A whine left Gojo’s mouth as he squished his cheek against the cool surface of the desk, eyes tracing the trail of the rain as it stained the windows. “Even when I’m being chivalrous! She denies all of my help!”

Geto can’t help himself from rolling his eyes, though with a hint of fondness, at how you’re mentioned once more.

He can admit that their underclassman is especially charming in your own way, but Satoru’s comical whining is getting old.

No matter what the conversation is about, Gojo always finds a way to bring up his dismay about the failure of his advances towards their underclassman.

If it wasn’t so consistent, then Geto would’ve thought that it was cute.

“What? Did you push her into the rain or something?” He chuckled, throwing his dismayed friend one last look before looking back towards the window, watching the raging rain.

Gojo’s expression dropped even more at the mention, “Why do all of you say that?! I’m not a monster!” A sigh left Gojo’s lips, his glasses discarded beside him on the desk as his gaze focused on two raindrops; a distance away from eachother, despite being on the same window glass.

A small smile unconsciously perks up the corners of his glossy lips.

If he could estimate the distance between those two drops, then he would say that they’re five feet apart.

Why, though?

Man! Even rain drops hated eachother! There was no hope!

“I just don’t understand why she has to keep her distance all the time! She’s so cozy with Haibara and Nanami, even with you and Shoko—but me?” He groaned, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes, “Bleh! I’m trash apparently, according to her.”

Silence persisted in the classroom for a bit, granting peace and only broken by the sound of the storm outside.

Before his best friend’s laugh rang out in the otherwise empty classroom.

“Are you the reason why she came back to the dorms looking like that?”

The smile on Geto’s face was undeniably teasing, shoulders trembling with the evidence of laughter as he shook his head fondly.

“Suguruuu! Don’t laugh! Just listen—“

“I’ll be right back.” Your voice rang out in the first years’ classroom, tugging your bag off the chair as you approached the door. “And you’re not off the hook, Haibara!”

A whine followed your words, but it was quickly muffled as soon as the door to the classroom closed behind you.

A sigh left your lips, hiking your bag over your shoulder, stretching as soon as the door closed. “Man…”

As far as you knew…it is raining, and you love the rain!

Today has been a bit of a hectic day, so you were glad that you would have the time to walk on your own, peacefully, all the way to the nearby convenience store.

“Oh?”

At the, unfortunately, familiar voice, you snapped your head up, hands tightening around the strap of the bag.

“What.”

Ew. Why is this infinity activating idiot here?! Did he never have class or something? You seriously doubt he even attends his classes—based off of what Geto told you.

Does he have nothing better to do than pick on you everyday?

“And where are you going?” Gojo’s voice rang out in the empty hallway, a smug lilt to his tone as he tilted his head at you.

While he worked hard to maintain the cool and unbothered front on the outside. He was mentally cheering on the inside.

Yay! Score for Gojo Satoru!

Man, fate really liked him. I mean—why else would he be bumping into you every other day like this?

An exasperated look rested on your features, eye twitching in irritation, “I don’t think…that’s any of your business, Gojo-senpai.” You emphasized on the honorific, trying to resist the urge to just walk away and leave.

You dislike him…but, you also have to maintain respect to an upperclassman.

At the honorific, though a common thing to hear from the first years, Gojo couldn’t help but feel his heart race—feeling as if a cupid’s arrow had pierced through it. Not the bad kind this time!

Gojo is willing to hang onto any string of hope, even if your current glare was snapping the thread.

“Aw, come on! I can’t be not suspicious if my cute underclassman is leaving class in the middle of the day with her bag.” A huff left his lips, the signature pout making its way onto his lips.

What a man child!

“Are you sick?”

Your eye twitched.

“Tired?”

Your lips settled into a frown.

“Are you injured? But you had no mission today!”

Your eyes narrowed into a glare.

“Or—!”

“Enough!” A cry leaves your lips as you glare up at him, eyebrows pinched together, “I’m going to the convenience store! There! Happy?”

Silence took over, filling the hallway as they remained standing—five feet apart—with you glaring up at him, hands clutching into the strap of your bag.

Huh—why was this idiot so silent?

For Gojo, it felt like everything else you said had went through one ear and left out the other, the tinted view of you through his glasses was almost intoxicating.

The way that you had to look up at him, okay maybe you were glaring but whatever, your eyes rounded with annoyance—it was a sight that he should’ve gotten used to.

But it still managed to make his heart lurch everytime you even looked at him.

“Can I come with?” An excited exclamation left his lips, eyes sparkling as he shot you a small pleading look, “Pleaseee!”

This was definitely his chance!

“No.” So blunt!

“Why nooot? ‘promise I’ll be good company!” A whine left his lips, “Besides, it’s raining!”

…

Hah? What was this idiot on about?

You shot him a weirded out look, “Okay? Thanks? I sure couldn’t guess from the rain pelting on the classroom window.”

Gah! Now he seemed like a total idiot!

“Wait! I mean—you don’t have an umbrella!” He flailed his hands around, a panicked look setting onto his features, “I have one! Who wants to walk in the rain without an umbrella, right?” A hurried laugh slipped from him.

Was the Gojo Satoru nervous? You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow.

Of course he was nervous! He has one chance to make this work!

“I’ll just borrow an umbrella from Haibar—“

Oh, hell no!

“No! No—he’s like—his umbrella is probably not as functional as mine!” He spouted anything he could, trying to salvage anything that could be saved.

You raised a brow.

Huh? What? That doesn’t even make sense! No way his idiocy could reach those levels.

“That doesn’t even make sense! Your cursed energy is messing with your head or something!” You huffed, “Over my dead body will you accompany me!”

“Woooo!”

The sound of an umbrella opening echoed infront of the entrance of Jujutsu Tech, lost in the noise of the rain hitting the concrete harshly.

“Do you even want anything from the convenience store? Or are you looking for any reason to be anywhere but class?” You scoffed, crossing your arms as you watched him open the umbrella.

“You can’t keep skipping, yknow.” He skipped class way too much.

A nervous look was thrown to the storm outside, biting down on your bottom lip as you looked back at the umbrella in his hands.

How was his umbrella going to cover the both of you if you maintained the five feet rule?

Oh.

And the infinity.

Despite willing yourself to not get your hopes up, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would actually be decent this time and would keep his infinity off. No way he went through all this trouble only to have you stand in the pouring rain, right?

Gojo threw you an offended look, “Eh?— I just want to accompany my underclassman to the convenience store, like a good upperclassman would!” Before his shoulders dropped, a faux look of exasperation crossing his features.

“And I guess I could get something or two for Suguru.”

This was it! His chance to impress you and charm you away!

“It is my duty, as your faithful upperclassman, to make sure you’re safe all the time!” A charming smile perked up on his glossy lips, placing his hand over his heart in a display of chivalry.

Yaaay! He was probably looking cool as hell right now! You must totally be falling in love with him right now!

“Keep me…safe while going to the…convenience store?”

On his precious underclassman’s face was a smile, one so soft and sweet that he was afraid he would melt if he kept staring at it for too long.

your eyes carried a glint of a sparkle in them—a contrast to the gloomy weather—and Gojo always thought he had the prettiest eyes but—

He was seriously starting to doubt that now.

“That’s the dumbest thing, ever. I’m a sorcerer too, no?” You let out a small chuckle, exchanging a small glance with his glasses covered eyes.

The carrier of six eyes could pass down the title of the prettiest eyes to someone else now.

And oh—that chuckle.

His hand tightened around the handle of the umbrella, feeling a small lump form in his throat.

You shook your head, flashing him a weird look at his sudden silence, “Whatever, Gojo-senpai. Let’s just go. I don’t want to stay around you longer than necessary.”

So mean!

Tipping the umbrella forward, Gojo nodded his head towards the school doors, “After you.~”

He was being such a gentleman! Oh—how your heart must be fluttering for him right now!

“Idiot.” You scoffed.

He was such an idiot. Did he think he was in a movie or something?

A sigh left your lips, shaking your head in reply, “Don’t get me wet.” You mumbled in a warning tone, noticing how he held the umbrella at arm’s length.

A suggestive smirk flashed on his features, “Oh?~”

Your cheeks heated up, “Creep!” You huffed, walking beside him as they exited the building, protected from the rain by the shade of the umbrella above both of you.

“What a shameful excuse for an upperclassman. Good thing we have Shoko-senpai and Geto-senpa—“ You paused, noting something.

Huh…no infinity. You are…walking under the same umbrella.

Sure, you weren’t exactly standing close like you should be under an umbrella, there was some distance, but his umbrella was big enough to cover both of you even while there was a small distance between you.

!!

3 feet!

Hwaaah! They were three feet away and he didn’t activate his infinity! This was…a big achievement.

You cleared your throat, directing your gaze down as you focused on the splashes caused by your steps, pressing your lips into a straight line as you fought back the heat on your cheeks.

“Ahem…”

Confused by the sudden silence, Gojo turned his head to the side, tilting his head as he stared down at you, “Hey, yo—“

Ah?—

Gojo’s breath hitched, feeling his chest constricting as soon as he saw the absolutely bashful look on your face.

Gojo is familiar with looks of bashfulness, he’s a witness to these expressions each time a girl bounds up to him with red cheeks and a compliment. He’s not new to these looks—in fact, they’ve gotten quite old to see.

But…

Gojo thinks that a bashful look is absolutely precious on his little underclassman. It’s a sight that he doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of, no matter how much he encounters it.

“What’s with the radio silence, hm? Did I finally charm you? I knew it would happen!” He slipped in a quick remark in order to save face, trying to uphold his cool front.

“What? Cat got your tongue—oh wait, my bad. I forgot you’re like a little kitten, heh.”

It had always been a wish to see you flustered because of him, to see you blush and get embarrassed by him.

He’s starting to take back his words now.

He doesn’t think it will be good for his heart if he sees the sight of you being flustered, it isn’t healthy for it to be tugging at his heart this much.

His hand tightened around the handle of the umbrella, unconsciously tilting it a bit towards you in order to shield you from the rain completely.

His precious little underclassman.

You looked up, swallowing the lump in your throat, before turning your head towards him. This seems like a good time to finally crack the question.

“Gojo-senpai…” Oh, his heart stopped at the honorific, “Why do you always—“

Everything you said went through one ear and left out the other. Fuck. His heart was racing way too much, he couldn’t focus on anything but your bashful expression and that..

Honorfic.

It was dripping with honey whenever you uttered it out.

His eyes rounded behind his glasses, a subtle red flush spreading across his cheeks. His face felt like it was on fire, the heat unbearable. It felt like this is the first time he’s been flustered.

Like the tables have been turned.

“Gojo-senpai?” Fuck. You said it again.

“Are you listening to m— Ah!”

Before either of you knew it, you felt an invisible force repel, no—force you away from Gojo, almost as if a wall had suddenly formed between you.

It quite literally felt like, instead of only forming a barrier between you as usual, it pushed you away.

“Hey—!” A panicked call left Gojo’s lips, eyes widening.

You stumbled over your feet, due to not having time to process the sudden push, a small squeak leaving your lips as you slammed down onto the floor—right on your butt. Ouch.

“Fuck—“ A hurried curse slipped past Gojo’s lips as he looked down at you, “Hey, are you alright? What happened?”

A small hiss left your lips as you felt the cold rain water pelt harshly onto your head, soaking you from head to toe in no time. Your fingers twitched, feeling the hard concrete under them.

So much for not wanting to get wet.

This…despicable man!

You kept your head down, trying to will yourself to calm down, taking a deep breath.

“Hey.” Gojo lowered his voice, brows furrowing in concern at your sudden silence. He kneeled infront of you, keeping the umbrella over him—you were already wet anyways. “What’s up? Did you hurt yourself or something? Let me see.”

At his words, your head snapped up, eyes narrowed into a glare, face contorted into an angered expression, “What’s wrong with you?!” Seriously! Did he find any of this funny?

Huh? What did you mean what was wrong with him? Is it so bad to want to check up on his junior? Arrest him then!

He huffed, tilting his head with a confused hum, “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re the one who tripped. Don’t blame it on me!” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head disapprovingly, “You really ought to stop being so clumsy.”

He internally cooed. Poor underclassman, these strong winds probably pushed you! Worry not, he’ll protect you!

You sneered. “Do you not have a single serious bone in your body?”

Was this idiot being for real? This really was not a funny joke, this was you constantly getting humiliated whenever you were around him.

This time, you would not only be humiliated, but will also get a cold! Ahh! This was so frustrating!

“Shut up! I’m not laughing! Nobody is!” You could feel the tip of your nose freezing, hair sticking to your face as the water seeping into your uniform weighed you down, a shiver running down your spine.

Seriously, why were you always so against him helping you? Your hatred for him really ran a long way, huh?

“You always do this! How hard is it to not do it? Will you die if you hold back from doing it?” You huffed.

“What are you on about? I think the rain water is getting into your brain!” A pout pulled down the corners of his lips as he looked at you, “Why would I go through all the trouble of getting you to walk with me if I was going to deliberately push you or something?”

You really weren’t making sense to him! He was only being chivalrous and helping you. What did you mean by he always does this? Be a gentleman? Duh!

A frown rested on your lips, “I don’t know? You’re so complex! You always end up doing this. What about me is so intimidating?”

Nothing. Gojo thinks that nothing about you is intimidating except for your beauty, that’s the most intimidating thing about you.

Besides, how could he ever find you intimidating when, even though you were on the ground and he was kneeling infront of you, you still had to look up at him? You were so small.

“You? Intimidating? Please. A little kitten is more intimidating than you.” He chuckled, shaking his head, a teasing smile on his lips.

Gojo thinks that’s the most precious sight he would ever grow to see in his life. He finds himself feeling bad for everyone else that never had the opportunity to view such a cute sight like you in the rain—

but, he also finds himself feeling prideful that he’s the one to see it.

He’s such a lucky bastard, no?

“Nevermind! I don’t want to go to the convenience store! What’s the use, anyways?” You retaliated, a hand raising to your head to brush away the strands of hair sticking to your face—

Gojo’s heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t approach me ever again! I’ll tell everyone at school how despicable you really are! Hmph.”

“Wait wait—what?! No! I’m the totally cool and dashing upperclassman that loves all his underclassmen—“ You the most. “And all his underclassmen love him!” Except you. And Nanami.

Bless Haibara’s soul.

You shot him an exasperated look, “Your delusions are stronger than your cursed energy.” You mumbled under your breath, breath coming out in a small cloud of air—a testament to how cold you are.

Internally, Gojo felt horrible, seeing you this cold, fighting to not shiver and your face turning red, but it was also adorable.

“Huh?! That’s so mean! Where do you store all of that hatred, huh?” He pouted, feeling an arrow strike his heart at your direct comment.

“Shut up.” You grumbled, supporting your weight on your hands as you stood up, kneeling down and picking up your drenched bag, “I knew it was wrong to trust you.”

At your words, a lump formed in Gojo’s throat, hand tightening around the handle of that stupid umbrella. He looked up at you from his kneeling position, watching you stand up and adjust your bag over your shoulder.

You always said hurtful things to him, but it resonated a lot more with him this time. Even when you hurt him with your words, you still looked as majestic as ever.

Did you ever think about how alluring you are?

“Hmph. My bad for wanting to help you!” He huffed, standing up and closing the umbrella, tucking it under his arms as he folded them, “Where’s my ‘Oh thank you, Gojo-senpai! You’re the coolest upperclassman ever!’ ?”

Your eye twitched at how he pitched up his voice, a horrible impression of you, “Go die, Gojo-senpai!”

You glared at him, before turning your back to him, walking back to the school, “I don’t want to see your face today.”

What?!— No!

“Wait—! I’m sorry!” He hurriedly followed after. He doesn’t even know what he did!

“I don’t care!” You looked at him over your shoulder, the rain falling harshly on your head, “Don’t—!” In your haste of wanting to berate him once more, you stumbled over your feet—for the second time that day.

Can you really be blamed? The concrete was wet and slippery and your wet shoes and socks weren’t doing you any justice. Plus the soaked clothes!

Gojo’s eyes widened, a panicked curse escaping his lips before—with his fast reflexes, he was the strongest after all—he stepped towards you, acting on instinct.

He hastily slid his arm around your waist, wrapping around it as his palm rested on your clothed stomach, supporting your back against his sturdy frame.

“I got you.” His tone dropped in pitch, holding you close against his chest, “Don’t worry.”

…

A small gasp left your lips, shoulders tensing up as you looked down, gaze falling on his giant palm that rested on your stomach, nearly taking up the whole circumference, your back pressed against his clothed chest, able to feel his sturdy muscles through his wet uniform.

His wet uniform…the rain is falling on him, he’s touching you…his infinity isn’t on!

You swallowed, heart stuttering in your chest, “Huh—“ You looked up at him, eyes round with shock, cheeks heating up despite the cold weather. “You’re…”

This is the first time…they’ve touched—let alone stood this close to eachother.

“You—“ He let out a staggering breath, arm tightening around your midsection, “See? I helped you..”

Gojo’s heart positively felt like it was about to burst, not only at how soft you felt under his touch, but also at the way you looked up at him.

Hair wet, looking up at him with those round eyes, filled with wonder and awe, rain water dripping down your cheeks—and most of all, the rosy tint on your cheeks that strangely matched the color on his cheeks.

Fuck. You were so cute.

His heart picked up the pace, not knowing how to react to this new overwhelming sensation he felt being this close to you.

“…” You pressed your lips together, feeling your clothes weigh you down as your stomach fluttered, “Gojo—senpai, you—!”

And of course, his body acted on his instincts, on what he knew to do best when the adrenaline rushed in.

Infinity.

A yelp left your lips as you stumbled forward, barely having the time to balance yourself and regain your footing—thankfully you managed to do it this time, and didn’t end up on you already sore bum.

You were just getting thrown around today like a damn ball! This is getting ridiculous! Can’t you get a break?!

“Huh? Is this your way of thanking me?” His annoying whine returned, gone his flustered nature and replaced with a pouting one, “Do you not feel soooo safe and protected in my arms..?”

Gah!— He just couldn’t win! Never with you!

“You jerk! You just don’t know when to stop!” You stomped your foot angrily, the water pooled on the ground splashing at your little movement.

You wholly believe he uses his technique to have fun more than he uses it to kill curses. The universe gifted the wroooong person!

“You’re so childish and you lack any type of common sense. You just enjoy getting my hopes up, huh?!” Damn him and his stupid limitless—his infinity, his six eyes!

“What hopes?! You’re the one who flips a switch all the time whenever I do something nice.” He huffs, crossing his arms, a pout on his glossy lips as he looked away.

Was being mean to him your way of denying you’re flustered? Weird. “You don’t know how to say thank you!”

You ignored how downright attractive he looked with his hair sticking to his face, wet with water and not in its usual style, “That’s because you don’t deserve it. Go die!”

You huffed, straightening your posture, before turning your back to him, stomping back to the school. You didn’t even feel hungry anymore.

Was it from the fluttering you felt in your stomach? That was probably just your stomach turning in disgust at the sight of him!

A dismayed hum left Gojo’s lips, rolling his eyes begrudgingly as he watched you walk away, “Talk about a moody underclassman, gee…” He snatched his phone out of his pocket, dialing a number.

“Heh…she looked like a soaked kitty, I should’ve snapped a pic.”

He held his flip phone to his ear, staring at his umbrella on the floor.

Huh? Why wasn’t he getting wet?

Since when did he turn on his infinity? Must be instinct as a response to the rain. He shrugged.

“Ah! Haibara! My favorite guy!” He grinned, pressing the phone to his ear, “Would you do your cool upperclassman a favor? Do you happen to know what a little moody kitty likes to eat from the convenience store?”

“Huh?— Hey— What happened?”

“Your best friend happened, Geto—senpai.” A sigh left your lips.

“Silly Satoru…what ever am I going to do with him.” A fond sigh left his lips.

“Kill him—“

“Alright alright.” He let out a small chuckle, charming, “Go to your room and change. Don’t catch a cold, ‘kay?”

He was so charming. The perfect example of an upperclassman, not like that other bastard.

Geto chuckled.

Hah…

Gojo would freak out if you got a cold, anyways.

[bambiesfics]

⊹ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭 ⊹

warning: water-sports, extreme overstimulation, graphic depictions of lesbian smut, r!receiving finger bang, sarcastic Ellie, fluff + loving at the end.

vague description: reader has a full bladder and is trapped in Ellie William’s hatchback.

author’s note: re-upload of my fic from last blog, also don’t read this in public. It gets intense.

“Pinup paradise diner…home to… ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake Jars?’”

You read, with your face nosed deep into the crease of the monotoned map. You deflated back into your seat, irritated at the amount of eye-strain required to make out such small font. And let the roadmap blanket the top of your thighs.

“Is that where we’re going next?”

Ellie's eyes were intently focused on the red Honda Civic in front of her, the one she’d almost rolled her windows down to spit at, less than a minute ago. Her stacked bracelets clinked as she cracked the knuckles of each one of her boney fingers.

“Is that what it says on the map?”

You flipped back to the legend, squinting at the list of diners, drive-ins, and street trucks. The corner of her plump smile quirked, hearing you mutter,

“Jesus, how do you read this thing?”

Your squint jumped between Ellie and the page, “uhhhh…yes?—yes!”

“Then that’s where we’re going next.” She crudely cracked her pinky last. The last finger with chips of black nail polish speckled on it and a snug silver braided ring that hugged it. She settled into her seat, merging onto the left lane.

“Pinup Paradise? Really? Seems like an odd choice for a drink after going to Whopping Wrap.”

You flipped the map neatly back onto your lap as your girlfriend flicked the blinker up.

“Milkshakes after chicken wraps Ellie? Really?”

“Hey—Tommy said they have the best milkshakes this side of the state. That type of man, the fucking lumberjack he is, does not fuck around when it comes to satiating that gnarly sweet tooth.”

She muttered “He probably has cavities bigger and darker than the cracks in the Grand Canyon.”

And your tiny giggle teased a smile out of Ellie, as she half-heartedly blocked the swats you struck at her with the rolled up map.

Your girlfriend got such a fucked up kick out of busting Tommy’s balls, and he knew it too.

She flicked the signal light up higher once more and cruised right into the strip mall lane that led the car through to the drive-thru, the diner growing closer each second.

In a smooth slow crawl you and your girlfriend rolled towards ‘Pinup Paradise Diner.’

A canary yellow, vintage diner, littered with paintings of 50’s pinup models that decorated all of the glass windows.

A drive-thru swinging sign read ‘The World’s Bustiest Milkshake!’ above the order window.

You were incredibly humored, noting all the double entendres and puns that weaved through the slogans graffitied across the menu board and windows.

A young crew member poked her head out of the order window, smiling tightly before asking for both of your orders. She watched on while Ellie fished for her peeling leather wallet in the back pocket, and poked her head out of the side of the hatchback window.

“Hey, can I grab a blueberry crust milkshake? And she’ll have….” Ellie trailed off, shooting you back a look with her eyebrow raised.

“…What’ll you have?”

“I’ll have a vanilla bean milkshake please. Also could I get a bottled water, if you have that?”

“Okay, so right now we only have the 1 liter sized bottled water.. would that be alright?”

“Ah, I’m sure that’s no problem, I’ll take it. Thank youuu.” you sang, and the girl mirrored your gentle smiled. You settled back into your seat and she closed the window.

“Why’d you get water?”

Ellie observed, hastily touching up her upper and bottom lashes with mascara, in the dash mirror, before she had to put her foot on the gas.

Vain. You teased in your head.

….But so pretty.

The mascara made her already long lashes, even longer. Her dark brown eyeliner was smudged, yet the grittiness was still so attractive on her. “You should wear brown eyeliner more Els. It really brings out the green in your eyes.”

She side-eyed you suspiciously.

“Thanks?…”

And you rolled your eyes. Your girlfriend loved to pretend she was allergic to compliments unless they were talking about her earth-shattering service top abilities.

Ellie grabbed both your milkshakes. And used her teeth to rip the paper cover off her straw while passing you your drink.

She put her foot on the gas and peeled out.

“You still didn’t answer the question.”

“What question?”

“The question of what possessed you to buy an entire liter of water?”

“Because like, you know the sweet aftertaste left in your mouth after you eat something really sweet? I don’t know, but it makes my mouth feel dry.”

“Ah.” she responded.

“…that’s actually real as fuck.”

“Right?” You settled deeper into your seat. Hugging the milkshake to your chest while you stalked a few instagram stories, relaxing into the rhythmic roll of your girlfriend's beat up hatchback.

Townhouses and parked SUV’s started running on either side of the car as Ellie drove on, deeper into suburbia. You pushed yourself up to gaze out the window.

“Where are we going?”

Ellie turned right into a smaller street.

“To find a place to park. I’m tired of driving.”

“Hmm, sorry baby” you hummed as you rubbed her thigh. Your eyes lit up. “Then can I drive your ca—”

“—no. When will you stop asking?”

“When you finally let me drive it? Let me behind the wheel please.”

She scoffed, eyeing you up and down. “So I can end up with my knees touching the back of my skull? Yeah no.”

“You’re not funny Ellie.”

“And you’re the only passenger princess I’ve seen whining to do her girlfriend's job. Be a lady, damn.”

You broke down laughing, clutching your chest while Ellie bit her lip down to put a lid on her own laughter.

You shimmied close to her, your breasts squishing her upper arm.

“Then can I have some of your blueberry shake?”

She circled the straw around your mouth and made you chase it.

“uh ah-uh-hah—Ellie.” You whined.

Ellie barked a laugh at how adorable you looked, and then slotted the straw onto your puckered mouth.

“Mmm…”

“You like?”

“Yeah it’s so yummy. I should’ve gotten that instead.”

Ellie attempted to take her milkshake back, but with some struggle as you leaned further and further into her seat, pressing your front body into her arms just to keep tasting it. You were practically finished your own drink, and were now drinking half of hers. And in that moment you recalled at all the previous times your girlfriend had gripped your ass and whispered how you were a greedy little princess in your ear. Ellie was an asshole through and through.

But she spoiled you, and she loved doing it.

You eased back, and Ellie stole her milkshake back. She circled her tongue around the tip of the straw before sucking it. Wrapping her pink lips around the sticky tip your rosy lip gloss had covered seconds prior.

You dropped your empty cup in the cup holder and went to chug most of your water. It provided an indescribable amount of relief from the saccharine blanket on your tastebuds. A cool feeling that settled in you, as Ellie pulled into a grassy park parking lot.

Willow trees lined up along the curb, their weeping pose provided shade to several lots, including the one above you.

Ellie killed off the engine. She tipped her head against the headrest in relief. She flexed her fingers, stretching out the kinks, feeling the breeze run past.

Her head lolled limply to face you. “Do I really look that good in brown eyeliner?”

“Yes you really do.”

Ellie’s cheek dimpled.

“I love when you tell me stuff like that.”

“Like what? That you look pretty?”

You murmured into her shoulder, looking up at her.

“Yeah, makes me feel…dunno, not like a greasy loser.”

“Please, as if I would ever let a greasy loser bag me.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Jesus, kill yourself.”

She maintained eye contact with you, green eyes jumping between your own. Reflecting the amber beauty of the sun in its sparkle. She gave you a soft smile, you gave Ellie one back. A truce to the constant teasing. And Ellie took it as an invitation to dip her head down, and pull your lips into a kiss. One she’d been yearning to do since she’d first reversed both of you out of your driveway.

Ellie chased the kiss into the back seat. She gripped the fat of your hips to inch you slowly off of the center console and towards the back. She followed, kicking her loose driver’s seat forward with the sole of her sneakers. The slide adjusting rail had seen better days, and had been owned by better people than the currently horny, blunt, ungraceful young lesbian who had an avid penchant for violence, that owned it that day.

Ellie teased her hand up from your hips to the base of your neck, to grab the back of your head as she worked her puffy lips against yours. She was hungry for your little mouth, and it was seen in the way her jaw flexed.

Ellie kissed you with a remarkably intense eroticism.

Her hands ran down over the fabric of your milkmaid top before ripping the holes away from the buttons to let your tits spill out right into her hands. Each nipple immediately kissed the waiting pads of her thumbs, as they moved to greedily massage the sensitive head. Grazing each of your puffy tender domes over and over. “Fuck, need to suck these heavy tits baby.”

Ellie’s lips made their way down your chest. She suckled some swollen red marks into the skin, before making her way lower. Coming eye to eye with your nipples.

“Can you please squeeze your boobies together?”

You took your palms and pushed them together. Ellie's whiny sigh sent heat pooling in your tummy. She leaned in, licking a greedy stripe across both nipples, tickling their head with the tip of her tongue, tonguing the flesh around both areolas. And suckling your nipples intermittently then popping off them. Leaving both of them so puffed out.

Your squeaks filled the expanse of her small car, and her aroused groans joined to match.

She shoved her fingers in the waistband of your tiny denim shorts and tugged at them. They budged, but barely, so you helped your girlfriend. You lifted your ass off the seat and slid your shorts and thong down your thighs, before Ellie slid them the rest of the way off your ankles and threw them in the front seat.

The soft breeze blew past your cunt. Exposing the warm skin to a cooler environment.

“S-should we be doing this in a park?” you squeeked.

Ellie kissed her answer on your lips “there’s” *smooch* “no one” *smooch* “here.” As she shoved her hand down to palm the fat of your vagina. Feeling your pussy fill up her fingers. Ellie curled a middle finger into your tight hole, it barely wanted to split apart to accommodate her finger. But she marveled at how hungrily it sucked her in. She pumped shallowly before adding in her ring finger.

Her chrome ring grazed the swelling mound inside your hole; your g-spot. And it pulled a pathetic mewl out of you. She curled her wrist up, ligament appearing. And pumped harder. Enjoying your shaking thighs in the air.

Your brain was melting into mush. And all you managed were barely coherent babbles.

“…feels ss-s'good” your eyes were rolled backwards.

“God bunny…” Ellie marveled, “your pretty pussy’s so greedy.”

Ellie’s teeth dug into her lip “How did I bag you?”

All you could muster were delirious squeak noises in response as you tugged on the base of her ponytail.

“Look-look down” Ellie’s fingers grasped your chin, pulling your eyes away from her flushed aroused face and towards your own shiny pussy. “L-look at how you’re swallowing my fingers.”

Ellie’s forehead knocked against yours.

“Hey…c-can you squeeze for me?”

You never disobeyed her instructions, not when you both were like this. Nodding limply, you clamped around Ellie’s fingers, a choked moan escaped you. And a deep, throaty groan escaped her. Feeling how tightly you suckled in her fingers, how badly you wanted her there, made a warm heat throb between Ellie’s legs and left her boxers sticking to her sloppy cunt. Ellie could almost cry that she couldn’t bully a cock inside you, just to feel that desperate clamp around her cock.

Her ring pushed into your plump inner walls over and over, and dragged a new delicious zing of pleasure through the ribbed inner walls. Puffy, swollen, and sloppy with slick.

Ellie had a newfound resistance in her thrusting, the clamping, warm grip of your puffed out walls were holding her fingers still. But she kept pumping, like a suction cup being stuck on and popped off.

You were assaulted with thrilling pleasure from your walls clamping, chasing the press of her jewelry. And from your girlfriends frenzied, desperate thrusting. Ellie was just as hazy brained as you.

It was a costly mistake. All of the fluttering was stimulating your pelvic muscles. Which stimulated the other tiny hole snuggled in your pussy. The familiar pressure of a full bladder pressed behind the teeny hole of your urethra. Your squeaks came out strained. You scooted into different positions on the seat, trying to ebb away the pressure.

The shifting positions only made it worse as your tummy squished from movement, and as Ellie pumped upwards.

She jack hammered her fingertips against the puffy roof of your warm cunt. Her feverish ministrations put so much pressure on your bladder. You choked out a breathy plea.

Your hands skated up your girlfriend's torso, past her exposed waist and pebbled nipples that strained against her t-shirt, and finally towards her square shoulders in an attempt to push her back.

She needed off.

“I gotta…uhn… I gotta.” you whimpered.

“What was that?” Ellie sighed.

“I-ah!” The thrust felt so good.

You were whiny “th-think I needa pee.”

“I’m fucking you so good it’s got you confusing cumming for peeing? Y’so adorable it’s insane.” Ellie kissed your lips, picking up her pace.

She took the hand she’d used to squeeze and pinch your tits and brought it down to press on your lower tummy, as she thrust up.

Oh.

“Nnnnhnhn no! ph-please ewwie.. can’t—hold it.” You babbled the same desperate plea incoherently, but with a mouth nearly paralyzed from the incessant abuse of your hole Ellie was doing, you were left whiny and gulping, babbling tiny sentences at a time.

Sweat pricked at your skin, an orgasm was fucked into your vagina, and a full bladder pressed at your urethra. You didn’t know what to do as the mounting climax forced against your urethra left you with a desperate need for release, in the car.

Ellie’s lips kissed your jaw, snuggling against your head.

“You wanna let it out, big girl? Make a big mess f’me. We can clean it all up later, I promise.”

“nuh—ah Ellie no no…aghh! ”

Your urethra let out a thin light spurtle. Settling into the space between you two as more slick gushed out of your hole. You sobbed through your orgasm, from the joint pleasure of climax combined with relief from pressure pressing against your urethra. Ellie kept fingering you through each tiny pump of liquid that squirted from your urethra and through each contraction of its sloppy wet vagina, as slick spilled out of you and ran past your bare ass, onto her leather seats. With each aggressive thrust of Ellie’s fingers—fuck in—pull out—came out spurt after spurt, from each hole. She slowed down once you fell back into the seat softly; boneless and glass-eyed. Like an abused rag doll.

You both caught your breaths, Ellie from the aggressive thump and heat in her pussy. And you from your ‘accident’.

Ellie watched as the looming embarrassment creeped every so slowly onto your face, as the orgasm slowly ebbed away. She placed shaky kisses on top of your head. Cupping the back of it in support.

Sure, maybe her car wasn’t the best time to explore that kink. Seeing as the bottom half of her shirt and her belt was wet.

But she wasn’t going to let her girlfriend curl in on herself in shame, just because of her body’s natural reaction. Especially one that Ellie practically fucked out of you.

If not for the small space of the car she might’ve pulled you into her lap, to kiss away the upset creases between your brows. But she could do nothing more than hover above your trembling body, and caress your squished tummy with her free hand, until the shaking eased.

She was breathless. “You did so good, baby.”

You shoved your face into the crook of Ellie’s neck. The sweet cologne on the collar of her shirt calmed you down, with its medley of gourmands, lavender and florals.

Your girlfriend had a way of grounding you. Everything about Ellie had the ability to. From her cold, icy fingers, to her soft, pine scented hair. To her woodsy cologne, always left on the collar of her shirts, ready to tranquilize your unrest.

“nuh-uh I—.”

“—So good. My good girl, doing exactly what I tell you too, c’mere.”

Ellie unplugged her fingers out from your hole and suckled the last bit of slick cream off, then swiped it on her shirt. She licked her lips. Using her now clean hand to cup the side of your jaw and draw you into a heated kiss that left both of you trembling.

You shifted positions in the seat from discomfort.

“You still need to pee s’more?”

“No.”

“Babe…”

“Maybe.”

Ellie reached over and opened your door, then hopped out from her side. Jogging over to shield your body.

You crouched in behind her, her and the car towered over you from both sides.

You pouted up at her, and she glowered down at you. Her arms crossed firmly as she looked away briefly to scan around the area. Before parking her gaze back down at you as the remaining stream from your bladder emptied itself.

“No more vanilla bean milkshakes.” you winced at the feeling of the breeze tickling your swollen labia.

“Of course. Yeah, that was the real culprit. Not the mega-giant 1 liter water bottle.”

You frowned.

Ellie’s arms dropped from their cross, and her black fingernails pinched the fat of your cheek and pulled teasingly.

She reassured you.

“Yeah sure, we’ll blame it on the vanilla bean milkshake.”

[megumimania]

EX FACTOR — gojo satoru

summary: don’t fuck your ex! (kidding) when a booking conflict forces you to room with gojo for the night, will your hatred of him last through the night or will you fall prey to his charms again?

warnings: smut (17+), afab reader, gojo is slight ooc but his slutty ways still remain, gojo and reader trying and failing to stand on business, exes to ???, they still love each other ya’l

ah paris, the city of love.

unfortunately the effects of the city fall flat on you as you’re stuck in a cramped car with a tinny voice in your ear belonging to the strongest sorcerer gojo satoru (aka your ex boyfriend). if shoko and utahime could see you right now they would be laughing their asses off.

initially this mission was supposed to be carried out by nanami and gojo but the night before they were scheduled to leave, nanami caught a “stomach bug.” this was unlike the formidable sorcerer who never ate anywhere that had a below 3 hygiene rating and he always made that fact known. so why would he eat at a low grade sushi restaurant, is a mystery to some.

the lack of readily available sorcerers at hand meant that you were left to accompany gojo on the mission. you were ready to drop everything at a hat for a trip to paris. aside from other neighbouring countries you never really ventured outside of asia and you were excited to explore paris and see what it had to offer

however what people forgot to conveniently mention,(or what you forgot to read) was that gojo would be coming onto the trip and by the time you found out it was too late to object, the paperwork was already signed.

he’s busy yapping away at poor ijichi who is trying to keep his eyes on the road as gojo eagerly shows him something on his phone that ijichi could honestly could care less about. you feel pity for the man, even though his pay is generous it could never be enough to deal with gojo’s antics 24/7.

“what picture should i post for thirst trap thursday?” he practically shoves the phone in your face as he swipes between the two photos. you’re about to curse out his entire bloodline for disturbing your peace but a pleading look from ijichi forces you to play nice.

the man has already been through hell and back from trying to keep you both from ripping each other’s throats out on this trip, so pretending to be amicable with your ex is the least that you could do for his sake. so you entertain gojo’s latest whim as he shows the first picture.

picture one is a classic thirst trap.

he’s fresh out of the shower, hair damp and his towel resting dangerously low on his hips, water droplets decorate his abs and the low light highlights his taut muscles. of course his face is out of the frame. it’s seductive, it’s alluring and it’s—

you’re getting ahead of yourself.

if gojo saw you staring he makes no gesture to acknowledge it.

you clear your throat hoping it’ll dispel the heat that subtly warms your cheeks. thankfully the windows are down as you zip through the busy parisian streets hearing tidbits of french as the wind whips at your skin. its honestly embarrassing how much he still has an effect on you months after the breakup but you couldn’t deny that he is a fine man, even though he looked a bit whorish in this picture.

“is that it?” you say coolly, trying not to seem too affected by the borderline r-rated pic. he pops some candy in his mouth as he passes his phone over to you with a wink.

you almost want to roll your eyes at his blatant attempt to try and rile you up but you are not the woman you were 5 minutes ago, you were not gonna stoop down to his level.

you were way better than that.

“you already know my password,” the way he’s so casual about it throws you off guard. you kinda expected him to be more cagey with something as high regarded as his phone. only god knows the amount of men and women who were in his dms right now, the mere thought of that sending a current of jealousy running through you.

picture two is less obscene but it’s still slutty as hell.

he’s dressed in the fuckboy classic: a plain white tee, grey sweat pants and a gold chain. he sure knows how to work the hell out of the outfit though. everything fits a little bit too well, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“well?” he stretches out the word, snapping you out of your reverie with a smug grin on his face that makes you forget all the reasons why you found him attractive in the first place. “whaddya think?”

“you look like a slutty jack frost,” you replied almost immediately, revelling in the way his smug grin was practically wiped off his face.

humbling him was your favourite past time. after all, knocking him down a few pegs was needed for everybody’s sake.

“why can’t you ever compliment me normally?” he groans snatching his phone from you. you’re more shocked he took your thinly veiled insult as a compliment but you ignore it for now.

gojo knew better than to ever ask you to compliment him normally, especially after the breakup where most of the words you would use now to describe him would probably get you a write up from the higher ups.

yet he still tried as if one day, the words that would spill from your lips about him would be one of admiration and not of hatred. for someone who was supposed to be the strongest and smartest man alive he was pretty naive and pretty fucking stupid sometimes.

“i refuse to feed your fat ego.” you crossed your arms as you looked at the blurring landscape in front of you, ignoring the way your traitorous heart was beating as his leg brushed yours. this was bridgerton levels of depravity that would put anthony bridgerton himself to shame.

god you seriously needed to get laid.

—

luckily curses weren’t as much of an issue in other countries compared to places like japan, so all you had to deal with was low grade curses lurking around touristy areas like the notre dame cathedral and the paris catacombs which made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

the day left you tired, sweaty and irritable. the toll of exorcising curses finally hitting you like bricks, making your muscles sore and achy. all you wanted was to take a nice hot bath and take a nap but of course nothing can ever go your way when gojo is around.

gojo accidentally booked one double room for the both of you and after several minutes of back and forth with the receptionist who made it clear in both english and french that she wouldn’t be able to make last minute adjustments, you had to settle with sharing a room with your ex.

you stalked over to the hotel room and made a beeline for the shower before gojo could open his mouth to make a witty remark.

desperately needing a minute to yourself before you dealt with the situation at hand, the hot shower helped melt away all the stress and tension of the day. a sigh of relief left your lips as you rolled your shoulders from side to side, feeling content and much more like yourself.

it is 11:30pm in paris and you still haven’t slept. you are too busy arguing with gojo about who is gonna sleep where.

“it’s fine, i’ll just sleep on the couch,” you grabbed the pillows off the bed and walked over to the couch before gojo grabbed your arm, pulling you towards him.

“c’mon, you know that if you sleep on the couch that you’ll complain in the morning about how bad your back is!” gojo interjected, still holding your arm but now in an awkward hold once he realised what he was doing. the brief moment of contact sent shivers down your spine.

“and before you start with your line of argument, just remember okinawa 2016.” he smiled knowingly, watching your face twitch at the mention of that godforsaken vacation-turned-mission you took together.

the trauma of that year was permanently etched into your skin. if it wasn’t already marked by the scar , it was marked by the psychological effects of the vacation that still crept up on you.

“fine, you win.” you huffed, releasing yourself from his hold getting into bed with him. it was honestly too late to argue and from what it sounded like you were the only two people on your floor who were still up. plus you didn’t want to unleash hell on poor i

—

the pillow wall between you both could only do so much as gojo’s limbs found their way to yours, as if it was muscle memory. they had you trapped in a deadlock—his arms snug around your waist and his head buried into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes tickling your skin.

the heat was unbearable making sleep practically impossible for you, the constant tossing and turning, dampening any chance of you getting a good night’s rest before your early flight in the morning.

“can’t sleep?” his voice rasped, still heavy with fatigue. maybe it was the sleep deprivation or the way his breath tickled your neck, that made him all the more appealing to you right now.

“nope.” you hummed in response not wanting your mind to focus on how close he was to you. how your bodies were practically flush against each other, how you could feel the faint sounds of his heart beat.

his touch strayed for a second, his fingers beginning to trace circles on your waist. a light innocent touch that was supposed to be soothing, stirred a current of desire you fought to keep at bay. knowing that if you relented for one second that the hatred you held for him would dissipate without second thought.

that’s why this whole thing was a stupid idea, letting him take you on an impromptu tour of paris, agreeing to share a room let alone a bed with him in the dead of night.

how could you claim to hate your ex when you had no qualms about being in his presence for so long? god you were full of utter shit but it didn’t bother you, at least you tried (and failed) to stand on business, not many people could say that.

gojo knew what he was doing his wandering hands trailing down from your arm to the dangerously skimming the waistband of your panties, each touch would send a shiver down your spine and part of you wished that he’d quit being a tease and give you what you wanted but you knew that was part of his charm.

his touch was almost exhilarating, leaving goosebumps in its wake. it was almost embarrassing how he barely touched you and you were already a wreck. “such a needy girl f’me, aren’t ya?” he mused, revelling at how wet you already were from his mere teasing.

all rebuttals were squashed when he attached his lips to your sweet cunt, throwing the duvet off of you, leaving you exposed in the moonlight. the sudden dip in temperature making your nipples harden, you call out for his name several times whilst he ravishes you without hesitation, even having the cheek to spell his name with his tongue.

“fuckkk right there.” you pant out, grabbing fistfuls of his hair to which he lets out a low growl at the sensation, slurping up all of your juices with a fervour that was almost primal, animalistic to say the least. your orgasm crashes over you like a freight train leaving you heady and slightly dizzy.

he looks up from where he is, hair tousled and his signature cerulean blues taking on a more darker hue as he reaches up to kiss you, his lips and cheeks stained with the glossy sheen of your release. his hand tweaks your nipples earning an impromptu moan from you that he swallows up as he deepens the kiss, rutting his hips into your thigh.

it was no surprise that he was already hard, he often joked that eating you out was his favourite past time besides going out to eat at his favourite sweet shops, which made you question if he had an oral fixation. to which he replied if it

gojo pulls down his boxers, his cock springing up against his washboard abs, the sight alone is enough to make you drool. you forget how pretty his dick was, his mushroom red tip that was leaking with precum to the prominent veins that ran on the underside of his cock.

“open your mouth f’me.” he asks and you oblige his request as he stuffs your mouth with his cock. the warm velvety confines of your mouth is enough to make him cum already but he holds out, not wanting to ruin the fun just yet. “missed that pretty mouth of yours, taking me so well.” he groans, holding your head as he fucks your mouth, the sound of you gagging on him is enough to make him lose control.

whilst gojo loved to brag how he found better, truth was that nobody could compare to you—hell even elicit the same sounds he was making when he was with you. sure his hookups and short lived relationships were enjoyable they lacked the electricity that passion he was searching for, the one that came naturally to the both of you when you were together.

“fuck princess you’re killin’ me over here.” he heaves before pulling out of your mouth entirely letting the tip of his dick rest pretty against your lips. you whine at the loss of contact but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, teasing your entrance.

“quit being such a tease.” you said annoyedly, before the air was knocked out of your lungs as he fully enters you in one fell swoop, your jaw slackens as you try to accomodate his size. he tuts, giving you a look of mock disappointment. “my, my, didn’t they teach you that patience is a virtue?”

he grins placing a kiss on your shoulder as he began to move in and out of you slowly, drinking up all your whines and moans as he picked up the pace, his hips driving into yours at a brutal pace. your tits jiggling with every sharp thrust, your hands find his way to his back to steady yourself.

“shit ‘toru, mmph!” his hand clamps over your mouth watching your eyes roll into the back of your head as he fucks you senseless, bullying your pretty little cunt. “shh, you gotta be quiet princess, ijichi is a couple doors down and you’re not doing a good job at hating my guts right now.” he says with a smirk.

in the midst of all this passion you forgot that you weren’t the only people on this floor, you knew that you and gojo were gonna be public enemy number one by the morning.

strands of his hair is stuck to his forehead as he thrusts gets more sloppy, his hips stuttering as your cunt milks him dry. god he’s missed this, missed you and your pussy that was truly made for him. at this point he has devolved into common man, becoming more pussy drunk as he tries to delay his orgasm so he can see you cum again.

“you gonna give me what i want?” his voice sounding less demanding and more desperate, his hands snaking down to your clit to coax one more orgasm out of you whilst trailing kisses down your neck. the sensation is dizzying: his presence, his words, his touch—all leading to your undoing as one last orgasm rips through you, leaving you spent.

his orgasm follows shortly after yours, collapsing on top of you with a sigh. the two of you stay like that for a while, not wanting to ruin the post coital haze with discussions of what this meant for you both going forward.

so you dont.

but ijichi does take note of the sudden change in atmosphere in the car on the way back to the airport. it’s more quiet, less bickering and shenanigans. gojo is less annoying, hell he’s even asleep!

he knew something did happen in the last night, it wasn’t like you two kept it discreet by any means but when he catches a glimpse of your hands interlinked together it all makes sense.

[lupinsversion]

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐋𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧 - 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐬

• summary: reader forces remus to do a couples costume for a halloween party.

• a/n: okay but remus as beast boy??? also, almost forgot to post today whoops. but starting on nov first, i’m going to slow my posting down due to holidays approaching and i have a trip i need to plan for.

• contains: remus lupin x fem reader, established relationship, fluff, couple costumes, modern au so the costumes will make sense lol

• word count: 1.1k

masterlist || requests

October, the best month of the year for parties in the Gryffindor common room with Halloween right around the corner. Originally this party idea came straight from Sirius and James, and must to Remus’ dislike, she was forcing him into a couples costume.

Now, she tried to keep it simple… at least on his part. Beast Boy and Raven. He wouldn’t need much, just a pair of Sirius’ black jeans that barely fit him, James’ black hoodie with a purple t-shirt thrown over it. But the worst part was trying to get his face painted an olive green color, and spray his hair with some temporary color.

That leads them to now. She already did her makeup and placed the short purple wig perfectly on her head. She wasn’t fully dressed yet, just wearing her fishnet stockings with some random articles of clothing over it until she was ready to put on the rest of her costume. She held Remus’ chin as he sat, brushing some of the color evenly over his face.

Remus sat there, clearly unhappy with the whole situation. He felt absolutely ridiculous and was sure that he looked so dumb with green paint all over his face. James and Sirius were standing nearby, giggling and commenting on how ridiculous he looked, and Remus wasn’t having it. He sighed heavily and shut his eyes as she held his chin. "Did you have to choose Beast Boy?" He whined, slightly grumpy.

“I thought it was fitting.” She teased, a small hint of a smile on her face. “It could’ve been a lot worse.”

"It could have been a lot better too." He continued to whine and complain. His green face was a clear example of how disgruntled he felt, though he was secretly glad to be matched with Raven. The choice could have indeed been worse, but it was still far from his favorite option.

“Oh, shush… and stop moving, I’m almost done.” She grumbled as she continued to spread the green color onto his cheeks.

He grudgingly complied, ceasing his fidgeting and letting her work. He knew that no amount of whining or complaining would be able to change her mind, and he wasn’t really going to protest against her. His eyes scanned her fishnet stockings, admiring the outfit she had chosen.

“Stop being so grumpy, you’re not the only green haired man tonight… look at James.” She commented as Lily was currently spraying James’ messy trenches a brighter shade of green for their matching costumes of Cosmo and Wanda.

He couldn’t help but let out an amused chuckle at the sight of James, looking all goofy with bright green hair. "Alright, I suppose it could be worse.” He admitted, finally complying and allowing her to continue painting his face.

“Or you could’ve been Sirius and be barnacle man.” She mused.

Remus grimaced at the thought, shuddering slightly. "Alright, alright, I concede. Beast Boy isn't so bad after all. I'll stop being grumpy, I promise." He chuckled lightly, finally giving in to the whole costume theme.

“Thank you.” She cooed before pecking his lips quickly once she finished.

He smiled softly as she pecked his lips, feeling his annoyance melt away at her light touch. Though he wasn't entirely on board with the costume idea, the simple peck made him realize he just wanted to have a fun night with her and the rest of their friends.

“I’m going to go get dressed, and I swear for the life of me… do not, and I mean do not, mess your look up.”

He rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed. "I wasn't going to." He replied with a hint of feigned indignation. "I'll be right here when you get back, just go and get ready." He waved his hand in the air, shooing her away.

She walked towards the bathroom, but not going in without a look that screamed ‘I’m watching you.’

He couldn't help but chuckle at her disapproving look, knowing she was keeping an eye on him. Once she disappeared into the bathroom, Remus shook his head with a small smile. He took one look at himself in the mirror and made a face, still somewhat unsatisfied with his appearance.

“Hey, Prongs, do you think I look stupid?” Remus asked, suddenly concerned about his costume. James looked up from his own green-colored hair and let out a small chuckle. “You look okay, Moony. Just embrace your inner beast.” He responded jokingly, teasingly patting Remus on the head.

James’ cheeky grin did little to alleviate Remus’ concern about his appearance.

But Sirius, ever the prankster, couldn’t resist joining in on the fun. He approached Remus playfully and looked him up and down, pretending to scrutinize his appearance very seriously, with a hint of mocking amusement evident.

“You look like a frog, Moony. A green, frogish beast with no fashion sense,” Sirius declared dramatically, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

Remus glared at Sirius before retorting, "Very funny, Padfoot. Thank you for your valuable input."

"Well, you did ask." Sirius grinned wickedly, pretending to be quite pleased with himself.

James, not wanting to be left out of the fun, chimed in with a grin. "I think you look like a broccoli." He teased, unable to resist adding to the banter.

She exited the bathroom then fully dressed, her look complete with a black bodysuit over her fishnet stockings with a belt loosely around her waist, topped with a velvet feeling cape.

Remus' gaze fixed on her, and his breath hitched in his chest as he took in her costume. The black bodysuit and fishnet leggings showed off her curves, and the cape gave her an air of mystery. He swallowed thickly, his eyes wide with appreciation for her stunning look.

The playful banter between the boys ceased as they all turned to look at her, their words momentarily suspended in surprise and admiration. James cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Wow.” He murmured, his gaze fixed on her.

Sirius let out a low whistle, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. "I don't know whether to be impressed or jealous." He chimed in, his usual playfulness laced with genuine intrigue.

Remus couldn't take his eyes off her, still in slight awe of how she managed to look so stunning and mysterious simultaneously. Though the initial skepticism about the costume idea had dissolved, he couldn't deny that she was truly rocking the whole Raven look.

"You look...incredible." He finally found his voice, breaking the silence that had enveloped the group. He felt his lips curving into a smile, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

Sirius, unable to resist a bit of comic relief, suddenly chimed in. With a playful grin, he tapped his knee-length socks and adjusted his eye mask. "Alright, Raven, you might be the mysterious, broody one tonight, but can we talk about how ridiculous I look?" He joked, his tone laced with faux indignity.

Everyone laughed as she gave a sympathetic pat to the side of Sirius’ head.

© lupinsversion 2024

[temptaetions]

cinnamon sugar 🌙 k.sm (m)

a/n: the photo above is from seungmin's instagram. i don't own the media, but i sure was blessed to see it. anyway, i think this is my first post with like...actual smut in it. please forgive me, because it is so shitty, i'm so bad at writing it. anyway, uhm, enjoy! my anon ask is now on, if you'd like to send any requests in!

synopsis: her lips taste sweet, like cinnamon sugar...she's such a treat.

genre: best friends to lovers | idiots in love | x fem!reader | smut | fluff | angst

pairing(s): best friend!kim seungmin x virgin!reader

word count: 6k. lowercase intended.

rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.

warning(s): swearing, mutual pining, a lot of emotional turmoil from both parties, horribly written smut [between k.sm x reader: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!), creampie, soft d/s themes, (slight) overuse of pet names (angel, sweetheart) oral (f. receiving), paragraphs of praise, so much kissing, some grinding, the lightest amount of nipple play. riding/missionary, crying during sex, multiple orgasms, reader begs a lot, they stare into each others eyes and hold hands while fucking oh my god]. this is slightly self indulgent but the guilt i feel after writing it, and so badly at that, is overwhelming.

what to listen to: gaze - sweetback | eat it - megan thee stallion | agora hills - doja cat | real love - mary j. blige | whatta man - salt-n-pepa & en vogue

message from: seungmin🧸🤎

[7:32pm] i’m coming to pick u up, i want a cinnabon.

message to: seungmin🧸🤎

[7:33pm] ur paying 🤑

"can i get aux?" you say as you slide into seungmin's car. the leather of the passenger seat was cool to the touch, a sign that nobody had sat in your self-assigned seat. "hello to you too, best friend. how was my day? oh, it was lovely! it's so nice to see you, too!" "oh, shut up, min. you don't give a shit if i ask those questions or not." you chuckle, snatching his aux cable out of the center console. "you know me so well, fuck. i hate small talk. just merge souls with me." you and seungmin had been best friends for over ten years. he knew you inside and out - from your scalp to the bottom of your feet (including the scar from his razor scooter slamming into your ankle at age sixteen.)

you shared a lot of interests, but none as intense as your love of music and cinnamon rolls. he was always at your dance recitals. your biggest fan, really. he cheered, but never showed you more praise than necessary.

"i need you to stay humble, it helps me tolerate you." he murmured into your hair after one recital last year. you just shook your head in amusement, holding it high as you let him march you to his car for dinner.

"oh, i updated our playlist! i have a few new things on here." you said excitedly as you scrolled through the playlists on your homepage. you shared this love language – you had dozens of collaborative playlists with user ksm922, and you giggled at the ugly photos of the two of you he often used for the covers.

"sure." he shrugs, using his pinky to turn the volume dial up. your eyes trail on his slender fingers as they return to the wheel, but you shake it off just as quickly. pressing play, you let the smooth r&b sounds fill the car.

"oh, this is nice. what is this?" seungmin nods his head along to it, and you glance at the screen. "gaze by sweetback. it played on my sade station, and the vibes are just so kim seungmin, yanno?" you close your eyes and fake being a disc-jockey, his hand coming to pinch your arm lightly, a chuckle playing on his lips. "stop that, you'd be a horrible deejay."

"are you sure this isn't about sex? geez, bub, act like you get some." he teases, and you swat his arm. "i do get some!" "oh yeah? from who?" his eyes are trained on the road as he bullies you about your sex life (or lack thereof), allowing you a moment to stare at his ringed fingers. oh, the way they gripped the wheel, they could so easily grip your neck–

shut up, y/n.

"your mom." you huff, crossing your arms with a pout. you hated this conversation, and you often avoided it with him. yes, seungmin was your best friend, but you never wanted to talk about your sex life with him. he had experiences…and you heard from so many people how good it was.

with him, to be specific.

"what are we, thirteen? you wish my mother would breathe in your direction, you fucking virgin." he scoffs, and you force a snicker out. you glance at your phone, a smirk threatening to escape as it started. "oh, this one is good. turn it up!" he obliged, not even giving the screen a second look.

you settle in your seat as megan thee stallion's voice blares through the speakers, muffling a soft laugh behind your hand. seungmin hated the idea of you being a sexual being, and you often used it to bother him. you liked seeing him get red in the face, and squirm. it doesn't mean you understood it, but it was hilarious.

legs shakin', hit it 'til the bed breaking…bed springing, talk to it…

seungmin's mouth is agape, his cheeks firetruck red…

i don't want just one nut, daddy, i need the whole tree, ah…

…before his nimble fingers press skip. 

"are you serious, y/n? in my christian minecraft server?" his eyes are still fixed on the road, his knuckles turning white from his hold on the steering wheel. weird.

"it's megan! i love her, she's the hot girl coach. you don't want me to be a virgin forever, do you?" you joke, and he scrunches his nose. "since when do you listen to music about getting your…ugh, whatever. don't ever bring up sex appeal, you repulse me." you laugh loudly, your hand going to pinch his cheek softly. "you're so cute when you get flustered, min. here, i'll play pretty boy by the neighbourhood in your honor."

he can't stop thinking about it. it's been four hours since you played the song in the car, and it's still stuck in his head. well, what he did hear.

you, inherently, did not come across as a sexual being. you didn't, and that wasn't seungmin being just a platonic, nice friend – you genuinely did not care to be the core of anyone's sexual desire. you wore oversized shirts and loose jeans, the occasional dress paired with black pantyhose and boots. "gotta hide my ankles, minnie. that's how they getcha." but thinking about you…listening to that song? your hips winding down on some other man like he's seen you do on stage? hell, some other man's face when he's right here?

it made him sick.

and you were so beautifully unaware as you swirled your fork in your cinnamon roll, bringing the tines to your lips and sucking the icing clean off them. not a second lick or adjustment, just straight off. he felt his cheeks heat as his cock twitched in his pants, and he almost missed you waving your fingers in his face. "yo, you good? you seem distracted." you have a bit of icing on your lip, and he subconsciously reaches over to wipe it off. your eyes are wide as he does so, and he doesn't know why he can't move his thumb from your lip. he doesn't know why everything feels like it's moving in slow motion, and he just watches as you instinctively suck your lip between your teeth at the loss of contact.

you're so pretty, fuck, you're so pretty.

"i'm good. do you want to go?" he's surprised to hear his own voice, and you nod absently. he was acting weird, he knew he was, but he feels like there's a fog in his brain that he can't shake. maybe it was the way he'd memorized every curve of your body, from watching your fluid dances. maybe it was the way that you smiled so innocently, you were so innocent. your eyes big and pure, your heart full, your mind…naïve.

he didn't understand the sudden urge to ruin you, but he knew he had to get over it, and fast.

"fuck." he groans, and your head whips around to look at him. "you okay?"

he nods quickly, his hand landing on the small of your back to guide you to the car faster. "min, if you have to shit, you can just say that." "ugh, shut up. you always say the most unhinged shit. no wonder you can't get laid." he rolls his eyes, and you just laugh. "trust me, it's not for lack of opportunity." you let him open the door for you, and you wink at him playfully, his fingers flicking your forehead before shutting the door. it was true, multiple of your friends had offered to…deflower you. hyunjin, on your dance team. minho, on your production team. felix, your choreographer. even their friends in the music department had offered, and you simply smiled, shaking your head at them. "i just like to flirt, your dick is your problem."

but much like seungmin, they had all seen the way you moved. how easily you sunk to your knees, how smooth your gyrations were, the way you looked like you enjoyed it. you felt good knowing people were attracted to you, but it never compared to what you believed was seungmin's innocent gaze.

it was weird to want more from him, and it pained you, slightly. he was cute, your best friend. cute, experienced, and he knew you. he knew you so well, what could go wrong? he could reject you, that's what.

you're in your own head when you realize the car has been moving, and rather fast, at that. "min, seriously. are you shitting your pants?" you roll your eyes, and he brings the car to a screeching halt. "bro, your brakes." you cringe, covering your ears as he pulls into his driveway.

"are you going to kill me? no way, jisung always said i'd go out this way. please, tell my mother i love her and make sure i get the best spot in heaven." you feign terror as you unbuckle your seatbelt, not noticing the way seungmin can't even look at you. you feel how hard he slams his door, and you give his car a pitiful look as you slide out, following him to his apartment. he lived on the first floor, what a privilege.

he doesn't look at you as he walks into the apartment, tossing his keys onto the kitchen table. "y/n, i have a question."

"oh? mr. attitude has a question, does he?" you smile sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest, the cowhide leather of the letterman you stole from him in high school rough against your skin. "alright, let's hear it." "why are you still a virgin?" okay, not what you were expecting. don't let it fluster you. you don't really notice his hardened expression as you try to answer. "well…it's just not on my list of priorities. i'll get fucked when i get fucked, you know?"

you shrug, not thinking much of your answer as he steps closer. "hm, i don't buy it."

raising an eyebrow, you shake your head, unbuttoning the jacket. "you're acting so weird, seungmin. if you wanna fuck me, just say that."

you sound surprisingly confident, and you can feel your heart pounding in your ears as you slide the jacket off, draping it over the couch. you gather your hair forward, spinning to speak to him again. "did you still want to watch the mov-" you're cut off by his lips pressing against yours, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer. you can't move, your hands frozen as he works you carefully, lips burning against your own. his movements feel desperate, and you let your body take over as you kiss him back, a soft sigh escaping his lips as your tongue slips between them. the kiss is hungry, his hands are digging into you so deeply you're sure you'll bruise. 

he stops. his fingers let go of your hips, and he pulls away, your lips chasing after his as he does. your lip gloss is glittering on his face, before he covers his eyes. "i'm so sorry, y/n. i have no idea what came over me, i…i'm sorry, please, let me take you home."

you can't speak, your mind still swirling with endorphins. your best friend of ten years just made the biggest move on you, and without a word, you managed to fumble it. no way. absolutely not.

"sorry for what? i'm not understanding." you suddenly feel very vulnerable, your skin littering with goosebumps at the sudden change in the air. "i'm perfectly fine with…whatever you were doing."

seungmin peers back at you through dark eyes. "no, y/n. we can't." he swipes his keys off the table, and you huff. "and why can't we, seungmin? what is so bad about kissing me?" his eyes are wide as you ramble, and it's all word vomit. you can't seem to stop it, but he's drinking every word.

"what is it? am i a bad kisser? is it because i'm a virgin? i don't think it's very fair that you can openly admit to being other girls' firsts but you can't even do that for me. you haven't even offered. i'm not saying you fucking have to, because you're my best friend and you always will be. but holy fuck, seungmin, i'm trying to get some. you said i should, so why not be the one i get it from?" 

you're out of breath, and seungmin just shakes his head as he takes one, two steps back in front of you. "you think i don't want to be your first? you think i don't want you all to myself, to ruin you for anyone else? you think i don't want to fuck you stupid, until all you know is my name? are you hearing yourself right now?"

"you're certainly not acting like it. it doesn't have to mean shit, seungmin. it's just sex." you roll your eyes, leaning on the couch. "it's not just sex, y/n. this is a huge step for you, for us. our friendship is on the line, and i don't want to do something you might regret later." you shake your head, and he hates when you get stubborn like this, you won't listen to reason. "still not seeing the issue here. i lose my virginity and gain some experience for the next guy, you get your dick wet. we go to bed, and we act like it didn't happen in the morning. you take me home, we listen to our playlists on the way there, and we go about our days."

he flings his keys onto the floor, his hands reaching to hold your face. he tucks a few strands behind your ears, fingers lovingly caressing your pierced lobes before he looks you dead in the eyes. "y/n, if i give you what you want tonight, there is no chance in hell you're going to fuck someone else."

you stare back at him silently, your eyes darting to his lips before your tongue peeks out to wet your own. it's not the worst thing in the world, being with seungmin. it could be good…and not just the sex. he knows you, you know him…his lips felt like they were made for you. they always had, since your drunken kiss on christmas eve.

"you say that like it's a threat." you challenge, and he bites back a smile, nodding his head. his hand has traveled to your hip, his other still holding your face when his nose touches yours, his breath hitting your lips. "if you want me to stop at any point, just let me know. understand, sweetheart?"

you nod, leaning forward to connect your lips. he pulls back, shaking his head. "i need to hear you say you understand."

"jeez, seungmin, i understand. i get it, can we please move this along?" you're not the least bit embarrassed as you whine against him, and he lets you kiss him. your lips are eager, your hands carding through his hair as he licks into your mouth. the kiss is all teeth and tongue, a soft moan interrupting it as he gives your clothed breast a gentle squeeze, his thumb working over your pebbled nipple. "min, i…" "what, tell me what you want, sweetheart." his lips trail down your jaw, nipping along your exposed neck carefully. your whines are like heaven to him, "n-need you.." "aw, you need me? need me where?" he's loving this, the way you squirm under his lips, under his nimble fingers. you push your chest into him involuntarily, "h-here. please?"

you grab his wrist, a wave of confidence taking over as you guide his hand under the waistband of your sweatpants. his fingers are cool against your clothed heat, a soft wet patch forming on the fabric. his eyes are wide as he instinctively lets his hand run over the spot, watching as you flinch, lip caught between your teeth. he presses hard against you, a gasp falling from your mouth. "i haven't even touched you, and look at how wet you are for me. a little pathetic, hm?" "'m’ yours, minnie. always, always been yours." you don’t mean that, he thinks. he's letting you grind against his hand, his gaze transfixed on your face. your brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut as you used his hand to get yourself to the edge. his cock twitches at the little pants falling from your lips, when he decides he's had enough. you nearly cry at the loss of contact, his hand escaping the confines of your plush thighs. "minnie-" "if you're gonna cum, it's gonna be on my face. let's go, sweetheart." he tugs you towards his bedroom, your legs weak as you try not to stumble behind him. "bed. on your back."

he's pulling his sweater over his head, and you nearly coo at his messy hair in your fucked out state. he feels a flush coat his cheeks as you lay there, waiting for him to tug your pants off. hooking his fingers in your waistband, you lift your hips to make it easier, and he slides your underwear and sweatpants off in one go. you suddenly feel shy, closing your legs. 

"ah, ah. it's just me, sweetheart. do you want to stop?" his hands move to your knees, the cool metal of his rings sending a soft shock to your spine. "no, i'm…okay. i'm just nervous." "it's okay, angel. i got you, don't worry." he presses a kiss to your forehead, nose…lips. he lingers there a bit, but doesn't let it deepen as he runs his hands down your legs. his fingers dig into your thighs, pulling them apart for him to settle between. you're soaking, the heat of his stare making anxiety bubble in your stomach. "fuck, you're going to be the death of me." his lips press soft, chaste kisses along your inner thigh, nipping carefully as you mewl. "minnie, please..i..please…" you end in a whimper, and who is he to deny you when you beg so nicely? he buries his nose in your pussy, bumping your clit as he lets his tongue drag through your folds, collecting your sweet, sweet arousal on his face. your hand flies to his hair as his lips suck on your clit, thighs threatening to close around his head. he doesn't care, he'd die a happy man right there between your legs.

"f-fuck, seungmin, ah! right there, holy f-fuh.." you're shaking around his head, bucking your hips into his face as gently as you can muster. he loves it, but he can't tell you that as he drowns in the scent of you, the obscene sounds of his tongue against you paired with your pretty whimpers ensuring he'd probably cum in his pants. "oh, b-baby i'm gonna.."

his hand reaches for yours, interlacing your trembling fingers with his, his other hand massaging your thigh in encouragement. he can barely bring himself to talk, a soft moan of his against your clit sending you over the edge, a soft cry of his name echoing in the room. "that's it, good job angel. you did so well for me, hm?" he's still lapping at you, not wanting to miss a single shiver or whimper from your body. "s'always that good? min?" he peers up at you from his spot between your legs, your lips parted as you blink, a tear rolling down the side of your face. he moves up to wipe it away, but you take his hand in yours, kissing his palm softly. "you okay? we can stop." he presses his forehead against yours, not able to process your cute gesture without wanting to bawl. you nod, a lazy smile crossing your lips as you reach to kiss him. "m'all good, minnie. do you…want me to help you?"

you can feel his clothed cock pressing against your leg, practically begging to be set free, and you teasingly buck up against it. he inhales sharply, shaking his head, "i want tonight to be about you. i want to make sure you feel good, okay? are you sure you want to continue?" "yeah, m'all yours." you sigh against his lips, a chaste kiss from you to him. "can i take this off, sweetheart?" he yanks lightly on your shirt, and you nod. you help him tug it over your head, your fingers reaching backwards to unclasp your bra. he feels like all the air is sucked out of the room as you lay beneath him, for him, in all your glory. every curve he's imagined just as gorgeous. "you're staring, it's making me shy." your soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "no, no, fuck, you're gorgeous. look at you, oh my god, i.." he trails off, his hands resting on your tummy. "you just went down on me, and you're short-circuiting over my tits, kim?" your teasing is not helping his brain, but the attitude brings him back to reality. "you know that's not all it is, stop it." he rolls his eyes, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. it's soothing, the warmth of your skin radiating against his. he dips his head between your breasts, trailing open mouthed kisses all over your chest and stomach. "you're so beautiful. i'm literally the luckiest person in the entire universe." he's mumbling to himself mostly, but you feel soft tears prick at your eyes. his lips latch around one of your nipples, a gasp from you making him pull off with a pop. "can i…are you sure you want this, y/n? i really, really don't want you to regret this."

you grab his face in your hands, your thumbs lightly padding over his cheeks. "i want you, entirely. in this life, in the next life. okay? i got you, don't worry." you echo his words back to him, and he bites his lip, a hint of something in his eyes as he pulls back to unbuckle his pants. kicking them off quickly, you wait until he straightens to take a peek. 

the rumors were true. he's thick, his tip a soft mauve. your mouth is watering at the sight, when a snap of his fingers catches your attention. "eyes up here, sweetheart. i want you to look at me, can you do that?"

you nod, a shy smile on your lips as he goes to spread your knees again. "no, wait, minnie…" he feels his heart skip a beat at your voice, eyes flickering to yours in concern. "i…can i be on top? i read that…it can be better that way." you swallow thickly, and he feels the tips of ears burn but a smile grazes his features. "you studied for sex?"

any awkwardness is gone. you scoff, a light smack landing on his arm. "forgive me for wanting to be in control."

"you want to be in control? okay. fine, but you won't last long." he shrugs, sliding onto the bed behind you, eyes taking in the curve of your ass before you turn. "lay back, asswipe." "watch the attitude, or i'm shutting this shit down." he says, eyes serious as you feel your cheeks heat. you watch as he gets comfortable on his pillows, and you crawl over to him, your hands brushing against his sides as you straddle him. "we can go as slow as you want, okay?" his words are reassuring as his hands reach for your thighs, and you nod.

you take a deep breath, lightly letting your cunt drag along his length, his tip bumping your clit. you shiver, a buzz going up your legs as he takes your hips in his hands, manually guiding you over his cock. "did you read about this too?"

"shut up." you roll your eyes, his hands holding you in place. he looks…so convincing like this. like everything will go back to normal after this, like everything will be the same. he'll still be your best friend, and you'll still be desperately, hopelessly, stupidly in love with him. it's overwhelming, and you just bite your lip, shaking your head. "you're staring." "your dick is twitching, but i'm not saying shit." scoffing, you take him in your hand gently, lining him up with your aching center. you sink down slowly, the tip barely swiping your entrance when you grimace, a hiss escaping your lips as you screw your eyes shut. "i know, angel. here, let me help you." seungmin pulls you closer, his back against his headboard, careful not to pull out. you watch as his hand snakes between the two of you, his thumb softly circling your clit, your eyes threatening to close. "eyes open." you oblige, feeling a gush of arousal at his command, and you have no room to feel embarrassed when he begins to shallowly fuck into you, matching the pace of his thumb. your eyes are glossy as you move your hands to hold onto the headboard, your chest flush to his face. he kisses your shoulder, your soft whimpers music to his ears. 

"deeper? or stay like this?" he asks, voice shaking slightly, the warmth of your pussy almost staggering. it's humiliating how worked up you have him, but you need to stay humble. it helps him tolerate you. "d-deeper, is okay."

his arms wrap around your waist tightly, slowly pulling you down further, a whine escaping your throat as your hands move to his shoulders, your eyes meeting his. he's trying not to cum from the way your pretty cunt swallowed him so perfectly, taking him so well. made for him, just him. "m'so full, minnie." you clench around him, and it takes all his willpower not to finish. he's not far, he's practically seeing stars…but the way you're looking at him, you're so pretty, so ready to cry over his cock. he needs to drag this out as long as he can.

"y-you can move, if you want. p-please, want to feel you." you're pleading, he knows. he swallows, confidence wavering as he nods, slowly thrusting up into you, the squelch immediately catching his attention, eyes tearing from yours. he watches the way you take him, your body begging to be ruined by him. he moves a little faster, your mind beginning to blur as he falls into a rhythm. 

your nails are digging into his shoulders, your lip caught between your teeth as his hips rock against yours. his eyes flicker back to your face, and you manage a quick wink. he feels his cheeks burn beet red as he looks away. he feels like such a fucking virgin, when he is the one that's your first, not the other way around. pretty girl on his lap and he can't even look at you.

he wishes you had been his first, too, and he wishes you would have asked him sooner. you're so smart, you're so gorgeous, your lips taste like cinnamon sugar. fuck, he loves you. you're his best friend, you feel so good around him and you know him so well. he loves you, so fucking much.

his hips come to a slow, your moan drawing out as he drags his cock against your walls at an agonizing pace. "'still want to be in control, angel?" his lips press to your clavicle, and you nod against his neck. "will you tell me if it's good?"

he pulls you back, hand coming up to caress your face. "how could it not be, when it's you?"

you don't say a word, allowing his lips to meet yours in a chaste kiss. he slumps a bit, and you maneuver so his back is almost flat on the bed, and you try not to moan as the movement makes his cock hit you just right. "whenever you're ready, just use me how you want to." you feel a flutter in your stomach, giving an experimental roll of your hips, your hands flat on his side. raising your hips, your thighs tremble as you start a rhythm, bouncing on him carefully. he's watching you, the way you move so fluidly, like you're dancing. like you're enjoying him, using him, making his brain feel useless. he can't speak, just drinking in this picture of you he's never going to get to see again after tonight, taking in your throaty moans.

"m-minnie?" your eyes are low, your hands moving to his chest, pushing your breasts together. fuck, you are art. "y-yeah?" 

he can't even focus as you whimper, clamping around him like a vice, moving slightly faster. "m'close, i can't..i.." you're still looking at him, and he can't. he can't take it, using his strength to flip you on your back. he interlaces your fingers, pinning your hands above you as he roughly fucks into you, sharp cries falling from your lips.

his head dips, lips dragging along your jaw as he whispers in your ear. "this is where you belong. under me, begging for me. got it?"

you feel chills cover your body as you nod, "y-yes, god, yes." "good girl." he's so unsure of himself, he's so afraid he'll scare off your high but he needs to know. "did you mean what you said earlier?" he's speaking through gritted teeth, his eyes focused on the gloss in your eyes.

"hmm?" your brows furrow, your bitten lips slightly agape as his thrusts become sloppy, and he just shakes his head, opting to kiss you instead. hoping it'll help the knot in his stomach go away, hoping it will help you forget he asked. you can't help but pant into his mouth, feeling him smile against your lips. "you can let go, sweetheart. you did so well for me, yeah? i got you." you don't register how tightly you squeeze his fingers, or how deeply you're kissing him as you feel the white hot sensation rip through you. he's drunk off you, and you can feel him spurting inside you, his cum trickling out of you as his thrusts come to a slow, slow, stop.

but he doesn't, his lips don't. he can't stop kissing you, he doesn't want to talk. he doesn't want to tell you how you made him feel, how he can never see you the same again. he doesn't want to watch you walk out of his apartment tonight and possibly never be able to talk you again. he doesn't want to ever, ever hear about you doing this with some other guy, but he made his bed. 

your thighs are trembling around him, and you tug your fingers out of his grasp, pulling as far away from his mouth as you physically can. he pouts, chasing after them, only stopping when your eyes blink slowly at him.

"you alright?" his voice is soft, almost scared. you nod, swallowing thickly as you look away, tears forming in your eyes. "ah, talk to me, y/n. it's okay." "i meant it. what i said, earlier. i…don't know why i said it, i never planned on saying it. i'm sorry if it's going to make things awkward." you feel a tear escape, your hand quickly pawing it away. "awkward? with you? it’s not possible." he murmurs, and you glance at him, but he's staring at the pillows above your head.

"but you don't feel the same way." you say, almost as if you're trying not to hurt your feelings by letting your own words reject you, instead of him. he shifts, and you realize he's still inside you. he props himself up on his elbows, hands holding his head up as he peers at you. "you think i don't?"

"i know you don't." you laugh coldly, and he smiles. "yeah, miss sex expert? you know everything? did you read that, too?"

"ugh, stop. i'm never telling you anything again." you're becoming increasingly aware of your nudity, and seungmin can feel the hot flame of shame creeping up his back. he shakes his head, hating the way his blushing cheeks burn so bright. "i want you to tell me everything, forever. i love knowing you, i love trusting you. i'm glad you trusted me with this."

you can't look at him. his hand moves to make you look at him, fingers lightly squeezing your jaw. "and i meant what i said, too. you can't fuck anyone else. only i can see you like this, okay?"

his eyes are searching your face, watching you attempt to nod. "and…" he sighs, feeling tears prick at his eyes. "and i love you. i love your smile, and how you laugh when you play sex songs in the car. i love when we split cinnamon rolls, because you always try to take the bigger piece as if i won't just let you have it. i love when you say my name because it rolls so nicely off your tongue. i love how you move so effortlessly, and how you remember every little thing about anyone, ever. i love that you're funny, and you're so passionate. i love that you're so smart, far too smart to think that i wouldn't sell my soul to live an eternity by your side." his voice is trembling, and your eyes are wide and full of tears, full of adoration, of love for the stupid boy hovering above you.

"i love you, please. please say you're mine." his tears spill, and your lips part, a soft sob escaping as you pull him close, the cool metal of his necklace dragging against your damp skin. "i'm yours, always. i'm yours, i'm yours, i'm yours. i love you." you mumble against his lips, your tears mixing with his on your cheeks.

"thank fuck, i was about to end it all thinking about you doing that fucking trick on someone else." he mutters, and you snort as he buries his face. "that wasn't in the article, funnily enough. it just felt like the right thing to do. think if i pierced my clit, it'd feel better for you?" you ponder aloud, and he nips at your skin.

"don't even start, i haven't even pulled out." he groans, and you laugh loudly. "you're so pretty." he pouts, and rolls his eyes as they start filling with tears, your hand quickly wiping the ones that spilled. "is this going to happen every time? i kind of hate it."

"god, i hope so. i love seeing you like this for me." you tease, and he scrunches his nose. "shut up. stay humble, it's the only way i tolerate you." he nuzzles his nose back into your neck, and you let him stay there, carding your fingers through his hair.

"y/n?"

"yes, seungmin?" "i'm yours, you know that?"

"mmm, i do now. just mine?" "just yours. always." he nods as he pulls himself off you, placing a kiss on your temple, before brushing his lips on the shell of your ear. "someone has to fuck the attitude out of you, and i'm so glad it's gonna be me." you feel your skin heat at his words, and you smack him lightly. he gives a playful thrust, making you gasp before slowly pulling out. "you're off the hook for now, my angel. let's get you cleaned up." he doesn't stop kissing your face in the shower, or when he's shampooing your hair. he doesn't stop kissing your shoulders as he towels you dry, or your tummy when he works lotion into your skin. he can't keep his hands off you, even when you say you need to put clothes on. he can't get enough of the burn of your skin against his, and moves as fast as a human possibly can stripping the sheets off his bed and replacing them. 

he can't stop, and he won't stop kissing you, splitting cinnamon rolls with you, or singing sex songs in the car. he can't stop, and he won't stop, supporting you at your recitals and fucking you stupid as a reward. he can't stop, and he won't stop filling your cup until it's overflowing, making you laugh until you cry, and dragging moans of his name from your throat.

he can't stop, and he will never stop, loving you.

temptaetions © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[bakuettes]

Catch My Drift 🏁 chapter 1

Street racer!bakugo x Street racer!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: cursing, douche bakugo, slight misogyny, alcohol consumption, drug use, illegal activities etc

Kanjozoku; The term Kanjozoku is derived from the combination of the words “kanjo” (meaning ring) and “zoku” (meaning group).

Kanjozoku primarily consists of young car enthusiasts in cities like Osaka and Tokyo who have a passion for speed and a desire to showcase their driving skills.

Osaka was the place to be. Not where tourists go to take pictures and try japanese cuisine, maybe pick up a few souvenirs from the large amount of little gift shops that littered the streets but where a community of young adults with the passion for racing congregate. The night was still young, the sounds of tires screeching against the cold pavement and engines roaring was heard over the heavy base of 2000s club music. Girls dressed in scandalous outfits mingling with the guys posted up next to their pimped out rides. You could practically feel the vibrations of the noise in your head.

Three cars lined up with the drivers sitting on the hoods of their prized possession. A bright orange 1993 Mazda RX-7 FD on the far left. The car’s color was comparable to an orange or maybe even the warm sunsets that would settle over japan. The next car over was a 1993 Toyota Supra Turbo Mark IV. The bright colorful lights that surrounded the meet reflected beautifully off the cars mustard yellow chrome. The third and final car was a looker. Silver 1999 Nissan Skyline GT-R R34 with royal blue detailing along the sides and on the hood. A royal blue flexivity rear wing with matching led lights underneath the body.

It was Bakugo’s baby. Spent years modifying and perfecting it. He was a skilled driver sure but having a car like his? Most would be intimidated to challenge him. “Yo Mina, let’s get this race going!” the orange mazda driver shouted. it was hard to find anyone in this crowd but said woman emerged from the sidelines with a confused look on her face. “Woah woah, wait a second.” She looked around the lot, once overing the lined up vehicles. “where’s your fourth at? i’m counting only three.” mina crossed her arms, unimpressed. the yellow toyota driver spoke up first “it was supposed to be joaquin but he caught the grave yard shift man.”

once you were scheduled to race it was a hassle to find new drivers, the time and place was set in stone. it wasnt that often when scheduled racers were a no show but then again many get caught racing outside of meets or their car needed more time to be repaired. It was a waste of mina’s time. she was the flag girl, not their fucking coordinator. “Na, y’all either find a fourth or you don’t race. How’s that sound? Times ticking boys.”

By standers erupted in shouts of anger and disappointment. they wanted to see a race, most of them drove well over an hour to be here! gas wasn’t cheap and neither was Minas time. Hearing the crowds complaining mina sighed and pitched them an idea. “Alright! i hear you guys, relax. How about this, why don’t i find y’all a driver and we settle this now?” bakugo smirked, nodding in agreement. he never said much but he also never needed to. his aura spoke volumes. “bring ‘em on.” he wasn’t nervous, he knew his talents and was confident. resting the palms of his hands on the hood of his car, he tilted his head towards the other racers, waiting to see hear their answers. “Anyone i want?” mina questioned with a grin that would give the cheshire cat a run for his money. “anybody baby!” orange jululis shouted, raising his arms to the side. cocky bastard. mina rolled her eyes and turned away from the drivers, pulling out her phone from her bra. there was a whole list of people she could call but there was only one person she knew who could end this race quickly.

she could hear the static from the other end of the phone. “y/n, you wanna race tonight?” it was quite for a moment before you spoke in to the speaker “i’m always down, send me your lo.” your voice was smooth like silk but sultry like a vixen. it sounded like you’ve been up for a while so mina didn’t feel bad for calling you so late. she knew you came alive in the night anyway. your energetic friend squealed before gathering herself together. “you got 5 minutes hun!” and then the line went dead.

it never took much convincing to get you out. when mina called you it was 12:15 am, meaning you only had exactly 5 minutes to get there. the meet lot was about 20 minutes out. you arrived there in 4, only a minute left to spare. the sound of you engine had heads turning (a certain blonde as well) as you slowly pulled through the crowd, careful not to hit party-goers. the hot pink body of your 2000 Honda S2000 was hard to miss. everyone knew who was inside and that fact alone made them scream louder. you never really cared too much though, it wasn’t like you had vocals like mariah carey. you didn’t have the ability to move like michael jackson. you were just a damn good racer and that was enough for them apparently.

all three racers turned their heads in the direction of the obnoxiously loud honda, tensing up at the sight. well, all except for one of course. bakugo had no idea why everyone was so fucking hyped. who was that? and why’s everyone acting like they’ve never seen a pink car?? “Racers!” mina yelled excitedly “here’s your fourth!”. your black stiletto boots were the first thing he saw exit the car. then it was a black leather hat. he glanced over at the others to study their reactions and they all had excitement swirling in their eyes. maybe even a hint of nervousness? bakugo didn’t have time to be sure because before he knew it, you were leaning back against the hood of your car crossing one leg over the other. “oh shit, it’s y/n.” you weren’t new to this, you were true to this. the air was crisp and cold, you probably should’ve brought a jacket because this top (if it could even be considered one) with this miniskirt wasn’t doing you no type of favors.

from the corner of your eye you could see a blonde headed man with spikey hair almost looking annoyed as he walked over to mina who was standing in the middle of the road. “no offense but i’m not racing a damn girl. you never said it would be a girl.” you rolled your eyes, who the hell does he think he is? a race is a race. why did it matter who was behind the wheel? you best friend looks beyond over this shit, she’s been annoyed her this whole night and she’s about to lose her patience. “you said anyone i wanted, i wanted her! stand next to your car before nobody races.”

“you scared spikes?” he turned his head to the side, watching you push yourself off the car and strut to the middle where he and mina stood. he sized you up, shamelessly checking you out. “what the hell did you jus call me?” he wasn’t scared. why would bakugo be scared of some princess nobody? “can you even drive with those heels on?” your outfit was impractical he thought. a miniskirt that just barely covered the expanse of your ass (not that he really minded) and what looks like a triangle bikini top. if you were to bend over then— no. now’s not the time to thirst over you. even if he did think you were hot.

“i’m just askin.. why wouldn’t you wanna race me if you weren’t scared?” you’ve dealt with his type before, cocky, thinks they’re better than everyone and so on. he’s got sharp red eyes with a piercing gaze. you let your eyes trail away from his face down to the hardened muscles on his chest. clearly well built and his black tshirt was doing nothing to hide it. “man whatever,” your eyes moved back to his hearing the sound of his voice. “i’m not doin this, find somebody else.” he wasn’t scared, he just felt that he could be using this time to race against someone on his level. why’s it that the egotistical men somehow always find you? you would’ve just let him go but you hated the feeling of being looked down on. he’s no better than you, he doesn’t even know what you have to offer. do you did what you do best, you uped the ante.

“15 grand.” you raised your voice a bit. silence fell over the crowd. “i’ll give you 15 grand if you agree to race tonight and win, that applies to the other racers too” you say to the other two drivers still next to their cars. that made him stop dead in his tracks. were you insane? you’re acting like that’s pocket money. fuck, he doesn’t know if he should do it. he didn’t need the money, but his sister did. he tries to help his mother out the best he can, this would cover at least two months worth of bills. gritting his teeth he turns around starting directly at you “don’t start to regret this when you lose ma.” got ‘em, you thought with shit eating smirk.

you walked past him, shoulder checking the man who’s name you still don’t know. he looked at you, staring at your ass as your skirt rode up with every step you took. you must’ve felt bakugo’s stare because your hands grab them hem of the denim and pull it down, throwing him a flirty smile over your shoulder. the tips of his ears turn a shade of pink. he quickly looks to the side, licking his lips attempting to play it off as if the whole meet did see the interaction. all the racers start getting into there respective cars, starting them up. mina struts to the middle of the street once again only this time with a checkered flag. her brown skin was glowing, the lights reflecting off the body glitter she wore.

“Racers!”

mina exudes confidence. you hand your left hand on the wheel, the other hand tightly gripping on to the gear shift. foot tapping on the gas a bit. you were high off adrenaline, you lived for moments like these.

“Start your engines..”

bakugo couldn’t help but stare at you. the look in your eyes. ‘s like you got off on this, the wicked smile on your lips doing nothing to make him think otherwise. he wasn’t fazed though, he had this in the bag. maybe even after he wins he could take you out but that was something he’d ask later, he needs to focus. the flag drops.

“GO!”.

and you were gone.

𝐀/𝐍!!: okay why was this way harder than i thought? 😭 please bare with me ik im not that advanced in writing. i also don’t know a lot about cars but i research by chapter. lmk how u like it so far and i promise to produce better work as time goes on!

[newluvrs]

Sungchan ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎  mdni!! 18+ currently listening to: VENUS AS A BOY - BJORK word count: 3k bb note: sungchan is so Venus as a boy coded

Its 4:37 a.m. when you finally close your laptop for the evening.  Your skin feels like shit and you’re practically vibrating from the amount of espresso shots that were in your iced latte.  You haven’t moved from your desk since noon, only taking miniature breaks to go take a piss and grab a quick snack.  Finals week always makes you feel barely human.  When you finally turn off dnd on your phone, your met with a trillion notifications, but only a specific person holds all your attention.  Your heart lurches when you see Sungchan’s name under missed calls, you almost feel guilty recalling your demand you made earlier this week, almost. 

-

“Are you serious?”

“Sungchan, please I am quite literally begging.” 

“Baby, I just don’t understand why you don’t want to study with me...” 

You know damn well he knows why and just wants to make you say it.  You look at him with a bored expression on your face.

“You’re distracting.”

When he feigns confusion at your simple response, you roll your eyes before continuing.  

“Fine.  If you want me to be vulgar I’ll be vulgar.  We both know that I want to fuck you all the time.  You know that it only gets worse when I’m stressed.  I can’t sit there with you and just study when 90% of the time all I can think about is jumping your bones.”

“90% of the time, huh?” 

You want to kiss the stupid smug grin off of his face, but you settle instead for turning your back to him, trying to steel your resolve.  

“It’ll only be a week… it can’t be that hard, right?”

-

Except that’s absolutely not true because why would he ever make things easy for you?  It’s only been a few days since, and you can no longer count on both hands the amount of times you have had to stop yourself from driving to his place. It’s not even his fault, for the most part.  Your boyfriend is just so hot.  You swear BeReal is plotting against you when the timer has just so happened to go off every day this week when he’s in the gym.  How are you supposed to contain yourself when he walks around looking like that, and always so willing to give you what you want.  You’ve had to pause in the middle of studying a couple of times this week just to get yourself off.  Truly you are no better than a man.  

Sungchan himself has pleaded with you a couple of times to just let him come see you.  Trying to explain to you that you’re being ridiculous.  In his head he can’t understand why you won’t just let him be there to help relieve your stress.  He knows that you’re the insatiable one in this relationship.  You having explained to him after you first slept together that your sex drive tended to be high.  And he’s always been more than willing to help you out, whether it be fucking you exactly the way you need after a long day or bringing you to a tender release with his mouth first thing in the morning before you go to work.  He knows exactly what you need when you need it, so he can’t understand why you’re torturing yourself (and him) now. 

chan <3: plz let me come over 

Needless to say you absolutely weren’t expecting to receive a message from him this late at night.  

You: Why r u up??? 

chan <3: ochem :/

chan <3: I need to see u :(

You want to ignore the message, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t subconsciously press your thighs together.  All you’ve been able to think about since you last saw him is how bad you need him.  You can only do so much with your own fingers, and each time you get off has just been less and less satisfying.  Before you even get a chance to respond another message comes through. 

chan <3: im coming over

Immediately you rush to jump in the shower, not exactly feeling the most desirable in the ratty t-shirt you’ve been wearing for the last 2 days and your unwashed hair.  You tell yourself you’re not gonna let him stay over.  That all you’re gonna do is give him a quick kiss and a hug, just so that both of you can see that the other is doing fine.  And then you’re gonna tell him that you’ll see him in a few more days, after your last exam.  You say this to yourself even as you forego throwing on a bra.  You say this to yourself again as you pull up your sleeping shorts without putting on any underwear.  You tell yourself this one last time as you climb under your sheets, making yourself comfortable against your pillows.  When the familiar sound of your apartment door unlocking finally comes, you feel yourself become nervous suddenly, voice shaking as you holler that you’re in your bedroom.  

You try your best to act like you weren’t waiting for him, but you fail when as soon as you see him standing in your doorway you immediately open your arms wide for him to join you.  He lays himself next to you in your bed, wrapping his arms around your middle resting his head on your chest as you leave kisses on his forehead.  Immediately you feel comforted by his presence, your mood doing a 180. The both of you stay like this for a moment, just holding each other, feeling the exhaustion in your bones.  It’s him who breaks the silence. 

“Missed you.”  

He looks up at you when he says it, his tired eyes making your heart turn.  You can tell that he also just showered, his hair slightly damp and face covered in a light sheen from his skincare products, pimple patches and all.  You love being with him like this, tired and both of your faces bare, it feels like the both of you truly see each other.  

“”m so tired.” 

You sigh as you rub your eyes, truly you’re so exhausted.  Stress has been wrecking your body and making you feel wound too tight.  Not seeing Sungchan has only made it worse, making you feel touch starved and lonely on top of everything else.  He can already tell without you having to say it that it’s been a long couple of days for you.  He knows how hard you can push yourself to succeed.  Being told your whole life that you’re a hard worker only fueled your anxieties of being the best you could be, afraid to let everyone down.

“Let me take care of you.”  

You look down at him still resting his chin on your chest as he says so, his pretty lips pulled into a pout.  

“Just want to help you relieve your stress, will you let me do that for you baby?”  

You feel your pussy throb at this.  It makes you feel good to know that just as much as you always want Sungchan, he always wants you too.  When you don’t say anything he moves to slot himself between your legs, planting soft kisses against your jaw.

“I need to make my pretty girl feel good.  All I’ve been able to think about these last few days is fucking you.”

You can feel that he’s already half-hard as he rocks his hips against yours, a gentle sigh falling from your mouth at the smallest bit of pleasure.  

“..please.”  

That’s all he needs to hear before he’s pushing your shirt up to your hips, his hands moving to your waist as he pulls you fully against him.  He moves his lips gently against yours as you softly moan into his mouth.  You feel so sleepy even right now, everything feeling like a dream as he grinds against you, panting into your mouth.  

“Felt like I was going crazy without you.  I was waiting for a call from you, telling me that you needed me and I was ready to drop everything.  You’re all I could think about.”  

You might be the insatiable one in this relationship but Sungchan is a close second.  For every time that you needed him to make you feel good, there was a time where he needed to make you feel good.  There’s nothing in this world hotter to him than the effect he has on you.  

“Your stupid fucking BeReals made me have to take several… study breaks.”  

Your ears burn hot as you admit this, casting your eyes to between your bodies watching as Sungchan rolls his hips into yours.  Heat blooming in your chest seeing the way the two of you fit perfectly together.

“I wanted to cave so many times… I’m happy you came over.” 

His heart swells in his chest hearing you say this. Placing a tender kiss against your cheek before he pulls away to pull your shorts off.  When he comes face to face with your bare cunt when he was expecting panties, he feels like he’s gonna combust.  

“Jesus y/n, you drive me fucking crazy.”  

He wants to be cocky about it, tease you for having such shit resolve when it comes to him, but he’s so hard it hurts.  You look so soft and tender, hair still damp from the shower, your old t-shirt still on along with your glasses.  He leans on an elbow as he reaches a hand down to play with you, when his fingers brush against your core you’re already soaked. When he looks up at you in silent awe your hands are covering your face, trying to shy away from his gaze.  

“I can’t help it..” You mumble out from behind your hands.  

He doesn’t want to make you wait any longer, slipping two fingers up and down your slit, coating them in your wetness.  He rubs them along your clit briefly just to hear your gasps, rutting his cock against your thigh as he does so.  He moves to pull your hands away from your face as he lines his fingers up with your hole.  Pressing them in he revels in the way you shut your eyes in bliss, mouth falling open.  He feels cocky now, smirking to himself at the way you moan when he crooks them up once they’re fully inside, rubbing up against your top wall.  

“Sungchan fuck..” 

You reach out for him, pulling him down to kiss you while his fingers play with you.  You stay like this for awhile, just making out as his fingers play with you.  He slides in a third to feel the way you gasp into his mouth.  When you arch your chest into his he almost dies at the way he can feel your nipples through your t-shirt.  

“You’re so needy, baby.”  

He presses kisses all over your face as he says this, sliding his fingers out of you to give your clit some more attention.  

“Why are your clothes still on.. this is so unfair.” 

He laughs to himself when you say this, finding it cute the way you try to make demands even as your body is twitching, caving in on itself from the pleasure.  

“Sorry baby, ‘m just gonna make you cum like this real quick, and then I’ll take them off, deal?” 

You can’t even process what he’s saying anymore, just nodding your head as you rock your hips up into his hand.  He slips his fingers back into your cunt, palm grinding into your clit as he finger fucks you.  You’re so distracted by his fingers you don’t even notice that he’s pushed your shirt up to your tits until you feel his mouth wrap around one of your nipples.  Unsure what to do with your hands, all you can do is claw at the sheets, body so overwhelmed from the pleasure.

You cum just like this, the only warning Sungchan gets is the way your body seizes up, your moans reaching a whinier pitch.  He groans at the feeling of you sporadically clenching around his fingers as he fucks you through your orgasm.  Only coming to a halt when you try and push his hand away.  You shudder as he pulls his fingers out, your throat feeling dry as you lay there, boneless.  He’s tender with the way he treats you after, leaving kisses all over your face.  

“So good to me baby, you feel better?”

You nod your head, slowly blinking, still trying to come down from your first high.  When you finally find the words to speak there’s only one thing you can say.

“Goddamn.”

You don’t even care that he smirks to himself at your comment, he deserves to be cocky right now.  When he moves back between your legs, you can already feel heat blooming again, setting your nerves alight.  You can see how hard he is through his sweats, dick straining against the fabric.  Sungchan already knows that cumming once is never enough for you, which is why you want to slap the smug grin off of his face when you hear him ask,

“You want to go again?” 

When you glare at him trying to seem threatening, he can only laugh at how cute you are.  Bringing his lips to yours to kiss the pout off your face.  He leans back on his heels to pull his long sleeve over his head.  You feel yourself throb when you see his body.  You were never one to care about muscles or whether or not someone goes to the gym, but you can’t help but admire all of Sungchan’s hard work.  

“Chan, you’re so handsome.” 

Sungchan feels himself blush at the compliment, filling with pride when you admire him so openly.  He goes to pull down his sweats, freeing his dick from the restrictive fabric.  

“You’re gonna sit there and tease me for not wearing panties, when you show up at my door without boxers on under your sweats?”  

You can’t even sound mean right now because you just feel desperate.  Trying to sound authoritative while simultaneously spreading your legs a little wider to make room for him.  

“Can’t help it I needed to make myself easily accessible to my baby.”  

Now it’s your turn to blush, rolling your eyes like you’re not affected.  He digs a condom from his pocket before sliding it on, you want to make a joke about why it was there in the first place, but the joke dies in your throat when he’s finally lining himself up between your legs.  He runs the head of his cock up and down your slit a few times before finally, finally, pushing in to your wet heat.  The stretch is so good, as he gentle eases himself into you, bringing a hand to thumb at your clit.  The slide easy with how wet you already were from your previous orgasm.  Sungchan loves the way your body opens up for him so easily.  

When he finally bottoms out, both of you just sit there panting.  You take in the sleepy look on Sungchan’s face and think about how yours must mirror his, recalling how it’s close to 6 a.m. now.  You bring a hand up to his cheek, just looking at him as you whine from how deep he feels in you, making you feel so full.  When you finally nod for him to start moving, he pulls out slowly before pushing back in just as slowly, hips reaching deep within you.  Sungchan knows that now is one of those times where you just needed to feel him close.  He fucks you just like this, slow but making sure to sink all the way in each time so you feel full.  

You’re so tired your eyes are starting to slip closed at the pleasure, just feeling so good and so sleepy.  Sungchan sees this and brings himself up to murmur against your ear.

“‘m I fucking you good?”  

All you can do is nod your head, gasping out each time he reaches deep within you.  

“’m I fucking you like you deserve?”  

When he feels you clench around him he keeps talking.

“My needy girl deserves to be fucked exactly how she likes.  You’ve been working so hard baby, just let me take care of you.  Let your pretty boy fuck you good.”  

Sungchan pulls away to rest his head in the crook of your neck, hips picking up the pace.  You bring a shaky hand to the one he has stationed by your head, urging him to lace his fingers with yours.  His heart feeling tender at the action, the gentle affection a heavy contrast to the way his hips are repeatedly rutting into yours.  The both of you are fighting to stay awake, fueled by the need to get each other off.  Sungchan knows you’re close when your moans start to change in pitch.

“You gonna cum?” 

Your eyes are squeezed shut as you hum a simple “mhm” back to him.  Sungchan uses all the energy he has left to fuck into that tender spot within you, hips refusing to let up.  

“Cum pretty girl, then we can go to sleep.” 

You just nod your head, wrapping your arms around him, trying to bring your face to his.  Sungchan takes the hint, softly pressing his lips to yours as he fucks into you one, two, three more times before you’re whimpering against him, body twitching as he feels you seize up around him.  He follows close behind, spilling into the condom as you twitch around him, fighting to keep your eyes open so you can see the way his face contorts from the bliss.  When he’s done going through the motions, he pulls out of you, hissing from the sensitivity.  He disposes of the condom before pulling his sweats back up, cleaning you up quickly with a damp towel trying his best to be gentle, putting a clean pair of underwear on you before finally sliding next to you in your bed.  

When he cuts the lights off you can see that the sun is starting to shine, both of your eyes feeling heavy as he wraps himself around you.  Before you both doze off you hear him mumble one last thing.

“I really did miss you.” 

You smile to yourself, placing a kiss on his pouty lips. 

“I missed you more Chan.”  

[urhoneycombwitch]

howdy, honey!

part I

older!cowboy!Eddie x honey!reader

foreword: idk what this is. other than the start of a new series I may or may not have time for lmao. just… love the idea of honey!Reader and wanted to show the origins of cowboy!Eddie into their life <3 honey!Reader is a bit of an abrasive spitfire but I heart complicated women and Eddie is the right amount of gruff to put up w/ that bratty ass <3 I’m sorry if any truck stuff is wrong I swear I researched a bit but dear god I am not a car girly plz forgive me

cw: Appalachian no magic AU, cowboy!Eddie, older!Eddie, age gap (Eddie is at least 40, R implied as younger), R is on the run from a Troubled Past ™, R has breasts (non-sexual mention) and a tattoo (no skin tone/color mentioned), smut planned for following chapters, as always +18 mdni!

wc: 5.3k

The last thing you want to hear behind you approaches: a vehicle slowing down, tires crunching to crawl at your walking pace in the gravel ditch of the road. 

Maybe it’s just a concerned citizen. You soothe yourself internally, even as your guard surges up to take stock of the environment, to calculate the quickest route to safety. 

To your left- a rusting red pickup, its unknown driver, the flat expanse of tarmac and heat lines rising blearily for miles on end.

To your right, just a sprint away- the line of a lush, thick forest, unfamiliar birds calling amidst the Appalachian wilderness.

Then, an even worse sound of the truck's window being rolled down. 

“Not interested, pal,” you call out, in a tone you hope is commanding. “My thumb ain’t out. Keep driving.”

“I just-” it’s a man’s voice, because of course it is, who else would stop in the middle of an abandoned road to harass a young thing like you- “It’s about a hundred degrees out. Hotter than a two-buck pistol and you’re hiking in it.”

“Mind your damn business.” You don’t know this guy’s angle, but you don’t really care- if there’s anything you’ve learned from the past two weeks on the road, it’s Don’t trust strange men and keep your wits. 

Heart thumping an unsteady rhythm, you swallow the fear and hike your duffle bag higher onto your aching shoulder, resolute, even as the guy sighs. As if he has the right to sound weary. “Darlin’. I don’t wanna see you die of dehydration, is all. Got some water in the back, ‘least let me offload some onto you.”

The offer is tempting enough to still your steps- your canteen is empty, ran out about an hour after being filled at the last town’s hostel. Constant thirst has been an unfortunate side effect of this journey; so far it seems you've been the only one desperate enough to actually be outside in this unrelenting heat.

The man must take your pause for acceptance because he rolls to a stop just ahead of you, brake lights giving one quick flash before the engine cuts out. Both boots hit pavement at the same time, revealing a tall, lanky figure in dark denim and a cut-off tee. 

As he rounds to the trailer bed, you notice a smattering of tattoos- bats flying up one arm, a lariat and a floral piece on the other, some sort of mythological creature sitting over his heart (only spotted as he bends to unhook his truck bed’s latch, shirt shifting forward to reveal a pale expanse of skin beneath).

He’s a confusing, delightful mix of punk and cowboy- jeans just a touch too tight for working, silver hoops lining the shell of his right ear. You’d probably get a better sense of his age if his hair wasn’t hiding in a bun too shadowy to see properly, nestled under the brim of his black cowboy hat.

Eyes dark as bittersweet chocolate but kind and calm turn towards you, observing silently with crossed arms in the ditch a yard away. He closes the gap, wiping his palm on the black bandanna lining his pocket before stretching an appeasing hand towards you. “Waterin’ time.”

A laugh would signal comfortability, and you prefer to keep your cards as close to your own chest as possible, so you smother the noise, turn it into a disapproving twist of your mouth before taking his proffered hand. 

He’s stronger than he looks, pulling you up to the road with an easy flex of his forearm; his other hand automatically fits to your low back to steady you as your pack shifts with the climb, but he drops all points of contact as soon as you’re stabilized.

There’s a thunk from the nearby truck, the sound of something dull hitting into the metal. On instinct, your hand snaps to the butterfly knife tucked into the front of your bra band, hidden by the extra padding but close enough to whip out at a moment's notice. 

A dog sits eager and obedient in the truck bed, black and leggy and long-snouted- some type of Shepherd, if you had to guess. His long feathered tail hits the wheel with each enthusiastic wag, oversized ears perked forward.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. 

Adrenaline leaves you feeling sticky and strung-out, even more than the heat. Between your breasts, the knife sits waiting, metal cool to the touch and reassuring through the fabric of your tanktop. You hope it just looks like you scare easily, hand over your heart with nerves and jumpiness instead of trained defense mode- cards to chest, and all that. 

Safer for you, to be underestimated. Always harder to see a hit coming from someone unexpected. 

This time, though, you aren’t fixing to hit. The back of your hand, like some gravitational force, draws you to the mouth of the truck bed. 

A slash of pink tongue splits the all-black dog’s mouth when he licks you, thumping tailbeat picking up speed. 

The man who owns both truck and dog leans a hip against the wheel, watching as you smooth your palm over the silky head of his companion. “Name’s Goblin.”

“So, your parents were hippies, I gather?” A joke slips out before you can catch and wrestle it back to be the most unassuming version of yourself.

The man laughs- full and rich, crow’s feet bursting like sunbeams, dimples springing into his cheeks- the action knocks a decade off his face. 

You’re transfixed, unable to look away, Goblin nudging your hand for more pets while you memorize the way this stranger looks, laughing on the side of the road in the middle of goddamn nowhere. 

“The dog is Goblin,” the man says, humor twitching at the corners of his plush lips. He takes off his hat to rest against his chest, chocolate eyes still twinkling. “I’m Eddie.”

In the truck bed next to Goblin, there’s a bulky case laying sideways, a handle on one end for carrying. It’s the last push you need, apparently, as the logic part of your mind speaks with finality: Ted Bundy never played guitar. 

So you give Eddie your name. Your real one. You haven’t used it in weeks, opting for anonymity and the comfort of a pseudonym at the seedy spots you’ve been staying.

As soon as you say it, something loosens in your chest, flutters free into the bright blue sky as Eddie repeats it like something precious- like he’s known you for ages. 

“Well.” As if a matter has been settled, Eddie puts his hat back on (you weren’t quite done memorizing the long pattern of his curls, shot through with grey, pulled taut against his skull to settle in a bun at the nape of his neck). “More’n welcome to take the water and send me packin’, but now that we all know each other’s names, how about a lift to town?”

Eddie scratches Goblin behind the ear, absentminded as he adds, “Could even sit in the back, ‘f you wanted. That way you could just jump on out if you think I’m tryna pull something.”

Your shoulder suddenly aches with the weight of your duffel; you let the straps slide to the crook of your elbow, then set it next to Goblin who seems happy for something new to sniff.

Unfortunately for Eddie, you’re starting to like him, which means the filter for your sarcasm and teasing has completely eroded. “Ri-ight. Like I’m gonna just sit in the back of your truck when you could floor it and fling me over the side like a ragdoll.” 

Those big, doey eyes of Eddie’s roll skyward. “You always this stubborn?”

“Only on days that end in Y.” 

“All right.” There’s something in his tone that makes your spine straighten- not from fear, just… something else that you’re trying hard not to analyze right now. “So sit in the damn front and put a seatbelt on, since you’re so worried ‘bout my driving.”

Eddie shuts the pickup’s gate and mutters all the way to the driver’s side door, some comparison being drawn between you and one of his cows that gets herself stuck in the fenceline, refusing sesnsible help. 

The air in the cab is stale and still, warmth from the cracked leather seats soaking into the back of your shorts and bare thighs as you get in and buckle up. You’re suddenly aware of how desperately you need a shower, being in an enclosed space and next to someone with (presumably) a working sense of smell, but luckily Eddie’s already rolling down the windows.

“Air’s broke,” he says by way of apology, waving in the general direction of the AC vents before reaching to open the sliding rear window.

Something cold and wet presses against your ear- Goblin, saying hello. By the time your giggle is over, the grumble of the engine has kicked on, and the dog has found a headrest in the form of your pack, his tongue lolling into the fabric with rhythmic panting. 

“Radio?” You ask, already reaching to twist at the knob on the dash- a crackle of static, and then, bliss. Johnny Cash croons from the speakers. 

In trying to keep your delight casual, you slip up, telling Eddie as he straightens out the wheel to pick up speed- “God, I haven’t heard music this good in months, not since-”

Fortunately, whatever system in your brain still holding on to good sense chops the sentence in half. To cover, you clear your throat, cross your arms, and keep your eyes fixed forward when you change the subject. “So, you play guitar?”

If Eddie notices your lapse he doesn’t comment on it, picking up conversation with an easy charm. “Nah. That’s just a cover for if Sheriff Hop gets me for speedin’. That case is filled with coke and guns and all sorts’a contraband.”

You fix the side of his head with a glare, and even without seeing it full-on Eddie sputters a chuckle and admits, “Fine. I play guitar, sometimes.”

While Eddie’s eyes stay on on the road ahead, you let your own gaze linger on his face in profile: the slope of his nose, the freckles that scatter across the apple of his cheeks and neck, the tail end of another tattoo winding up his collarbone.

Eddie catches you staring, this time, jolt like an electric shock coursing through your whole body when you lock eyes for a moment, before he flicks back to the road. “Looks like you got some ink, yourself.”

He must be doing his best to remain respectful, because he doesn’t ask what the J stands for, even as your other hand jumps instinctually to cover the breadth of your wrist, hiding the little inked letter from view. “Yeah. I get one every time I kill a man. In remembrance.”

Amusement twitches at the corner of Eddie’s mouth when he asks, “Yeah? Only one so far? Would’a thought you’d be racking up your letters by now. Fierce as you are.”

“Well, we’re in public. I can’t very well take off my shirt to show you all the rest.”

This earns you another laugh, and even with the wind whipping through the cab, it fills every inch of the space. Rattles into you like a thunderstorm, knocks dust off some deep part of you kept dormant ‘til now.

You like that he called you that. Fierce. You’re loath to admit it, but you also like the pet names. Most boys are condescending or double-edged with their diminutives, but when Eddie calls you darlin’ with that Southern drawl, it feels… endearing. 

Equal parts terrifyingly disarming and captivatingly charming. That’s how you’d categorize Eddie, so far, though you’re not sure what to file away about his arms- stretched out at ten and two on the Ford’s big wheel, soft white underbelly of his forearms fading into a natural freckled tan, smattering of dark hair over both. 

For now, you file it under Trouble and focus on the upcoming road sign.

It looks like someone stripped a big tree and cut out a thick middle piece just to drive it at a slant into the ground. The hand-carved words appear to have been painted over many times, discolored and weathered, obscuring some of the letters.

WELC ME TO C LINE

”It’s a nice town, Celine,” Eddie says conversationally as the sign gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. “Small, but good community. Lots of farming folks, like me, some strays and stragglers, like you.”

Johnny Cash gives way to an unfamiliar folksy number; you drink in the ramshackle buildings that make up the heart of the town. It’s reminiscent of old cowboy movies you grew up watching with your brothers- flat roofs, red brick, clapboard. A hitching post outside of a General Store, a group of kids tearing around on bikes in the empty lot of the movie theater. 

All that’s missing is a lone tumbleweed flipping lazily end over end across the road.

Eddie pulls his truck parallel with a stretch of curb outside a long building, another handmade sign that reads Celine Public Library. He leaves the engine running but shifts the gear to park, pointing to the phone booth just beyond your window.

“Phone’s just there, if you got someone to call. Figure’d here’s as good a place as any, if you wanna part ways now.”

Oh, right. Eddie offered you a ride to town, and he made good on it. Now is the part where you get out, collect your duffel, and wave while pretending to make a phone call until his truck has disappeared.

But you don’t. There’s lively guitar plucking over the speakers, twining with the purr of the engine. Eddie’s hands flex and unflex on the wheel, horseshoe tattoo on the first segment of his middle finger rippling with the movement like he’s working up the courage to say something,

You’d better not stick around to hear it. Fighting the thing that’s sticking you to the seat, you reach for the door handle. “Well, thanks, Eddie. ‘Preciate the lift.”

Your fingers are just grazing the handle when Eddie speaks again. “Wait-”

Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Don’t-

His eyes are just as beautiful as before, when he’d laughed- and now they’re on you, longing and hopeful and a little unsure as he speaks, gaining speed as if from nerves- “I’ve got a spare room. Spare shack, technically- it’s not much, but I used to live in there real comfortably ‘til my uncle moved and I got the house. Please come stay, at least for the night. Please?”

With a hand still on the door to your other, safer option, you pause; though the main emotion that washes through you is one of relief and gratitude, you sink your teeth into the little flare of irritation, pulling it up to the surface like one last play. “I don’t want charity.”

”Do I look like the church-goin’ type?” A bright flash of Eddie’s teeth as he grins (he knows he’s got you, goddammit). “And the shack door locks from the inside. Deadbolt. In case you’re worried about… I’m not askin’ anything from you. Just- please.”

Your hand drops from the door, falls limply into your lap as you breathe out. “And you’re not in some… weird, cowpoke-Satanic cult where you’re gonna use me as human sacrifice?”

“What part of deadbolt do you not get,” Eddie retorts, pleased, hand at the gear shift. “And my cult only meets on the full moon, so. You’ve got a few weeks of safety, at least.”

A genuine laugh bubbles up out of you, and the smile that Eddie fixes you with would’ve knocked you sideways had you been standing. 

You’re both relishing in the moment too deeply to notice the bicycles approaching from behind; Goblin gives an excited yip, front paws planted on the lip of the truck, wagging up a storm as the group squeals to a halt, surrounding you and Eddie on all sides. 

One of the kids, a boy with a curly mop of hair who looks on the young end of 15, slams a hand down on Eddie’s open window. “Hey!”

Eddie is the one to nearly jump out of his skin this time, hand flying to the top of his hat and cursing. “Fuck. Christ, Henderson. Whaddya want?”

“Do you require our assistance at the market this weekend?” The kid speaks in a funny, oddly formal tone as Eddie sighs and sets his hat on the seat between the two of you. 

“Unfortunately so.” 

“C’mon, Eddie, don’t be like that.” The boy is practically leaning through the window at this point with eagerness, one foot on the ground to keep his bike from tipping. You smother a giggle at the way Eddie’s jaw ticks. “School’s out, we’re bored as hell, and-”

He stops mid sentence when he spies you in the passenger seat, eyebrows jumping up to the curls covering his forehead. “And who might this be?”

“None of your damn business,” Eddie grits out, but you ignore the all-bark-no-bite tone to stretch across and offer your hand in introduction.

“I’m Dustin,” the boy says, in answer to your own name, and rapid-fire points at the various figures loitering around the truck, naming his friends too quickly for you to store them long-term. “Now, Edward, about our payment…”

There’s a girl with red braids near your window, the only one not on a bike. When you give her a friendly smile, she glowers and plants a sneakered foot on her skateboard, rocking it aimlessly up and down the asphalt. 

In the back, Goblin is basking in the attention of the rest of the group; another boy with a close-cropped Afro rubs the dog’s head lovingly, while a girl with serious brown eyes and shoulder-length curls (Eddie’s relative, maybe?) makes tentative strokes down Goblin’s side. 

There are two other kids- boys, you think- near the back of the trailer, but their backs are to the group, close as two people can be while still on their own bikes. Dustin’s conversation floats back into your comprehension- he’s making a valiant attempt at twisting Eddie’s arm where ‘payment’ is concerned.

Untwistable, Eddie shakes his head. A few strands of hair have come loose from his bun, curling around his jaw with the overdramatic move he makes to throw the gear shift into drive. “All right, enough, ya scoundrel. Round up your crew and go be a pain in someone else’s ass.”

Unperturbed, Dustin straightens, grasping his bike’s handlebars with one hand and wrapping a tight fist around the metal of the truck’s side mirror. 

This seems to be some sort of signal, because the rest of the group latches on like some choreographed play- hands, one from each kid, coming up to grip at any free space left on the truck, shoulders hunching forward as if preparing to be shot forth like a rubber band. 

“Damn kids,” Eddie grumbles, but you can hear the fondness in his voice as he lifts his foot from the brake.

The truck lurches forward, and with it, the extra wheels; Goblin’s revved-up barking joins the excited chatter and whooping of the kids hanging on, a joyous cacophony of sound as you all head further down the empty street together.

Eddie picks up speed; there’s a twinge of fear as you watch the speedometer tick up to 10- and then he honks, once, and in perfect synchronicity all the kids let go. Some of them pedal furiously to keep up the momentum, others- like the girl on the skateboard- take advantage of the added speed to simply coast.

Soon enough, their cheerful waves and laughter recede into the distance along with the rest of the town as Eddie keeps his boot on the gas.

The heat in town was dizzying, so you’re relieved when the road dips and bends into the comfort of shade- courtesy of the wild forest flanking either side. 

It’s about a ten minute drive to Munson Farms, and on the way, Eddie tells you all about it. You learn that his Uncle Wayne raised him, taught him how to work and live off the land- when Wayne retired and moved a few miles down the road, Eddie took over.

“Not really a lucrative venture, farming,” he says, trees passing in a blur as he navigates the road curves with ease. “But the end of summer Town Fair pays well, ‘specially for sheep penning demonstrations. Got a couple of dairy cows, chickens that won’t stop laying- between that ‘n Wayne’s orchards, we got more than enough to get us through the winter months.

And then there’s the hives-”

“Bees?” Unable to help the interruption, your head whips in his direction, interest piqued. 

“Yup. Got about six hives right now in the southern pasture. Don’t know much about ‘em, truthfully- got a friend named Chrissy, comes once a week or so to make sure they stay maintained. I mostly just help come harvesting time, and try to stay out of her way for the rest.”

There are about a thousand other questions you want to ask- what kind of bees? Are they near your garden plot to promote pollination? Any bears in the area?- but you tamp down your excitement, settling on a neutral, “Cool,” before looking out the window again.

The sign for Munson Farms is handmade, too, but upkept much better than the one in town- it swings gently in the breeze on metal links as Eddie turns down the adjoining dirt road. About a quarter mile in, you start to see signs of life- fence lines running through the trees and the shush of a nearby water source- and then, a house.

It’s small, probably no more than a bed, bath, and kitchen inside. There’s a red brick chimney separating the straight lines of the blue-painted wood planks, ivy crawling up one side to frame the eastern-facing window. 

On the covered porch, a big, long-haired white dog lifts its head at the sound of the truck pulling in. Goblin gives a greeting bark, practically tripping over his oversized paws to launch out of the truck even as Eddie gripes at him to “Be careful, dammit!”

As you follow Eddie out of the truck and to the porch, the white dog shambles over on a stiff back leg, ignoring the playful jumping and licking Goblin gives in favor of coming up to sniff you. 

“This is Rosie,” Eddie says, patting her greying muzzle with a gentleness that twists something in your stomach. “She’s near older than me, was a great livestock guardian ‘til her age caught up. Been trying to train up Goblin to take her place but between you ‘n me I think his head might be full of rocks.”

As if he’s aware of the insult, Goblin gives an indignant yip and paws at Eddie’s knee; he gets laughed off by the two of you, zipping away with a deep sense of importance into the nearby forest while Rosie shambles back to her cozy porch spot.

It smells incredible, here, surrounded by so many trees- you take a deep breath, inhaling the rich pines, the verdant underbrush. Just past the house, there’s a fenced-in area with various plants spilling out of raised garden beds. You can almost smell the summer strawberries and crisp veggies. 

On the other side of the fence is a plastic-sheeted greenhouse, LED lights inside making the whole thing glow artificial purple. Eddie catches you staring, then gives a wink, laying one long finger to the side of his nose. “Don’t go tellin’ the Sheriff on me and I’ll give you a joint for your troubles.”

“Deal.” Wasn’t a hard sell at all- at the rate this is going, you’re dying to get high with this man. 

Eddie grabs your pack out of the truck bed and leads you across the dirt road, pointing out the fence lines in the distance, and a barn that you can just make out through a gap in the trees. 

“Sheep, cows, horses, all that way. This way-” his hand rests between your shoulder blades, steering you towards a boot-worn path, “-is the guest shack. Beehives’ll be just down the hill from where you’re stayin’.”

He pauses, looking back over his shoulder at you- “I’ll take you to see ‘em tomorrow. Promise. I just don’t want you goin’ by yourself and getting stung to death, y’hear?”

Not for the first time today, you wish, desperately, to tell him things you shouldn’t. I was actually an apprentice beekeeper for a year, I know my way around a hive. Studied entomology and agriculture in college before I lost myself in the worst mistake of my life. You know that pesky little J I’ve got on my wrist…?

But if you start talking, you won’t stop. And besides, you’re not planning to stay here long enough for your secrets to matter.

So instead, you press your lips into a line, looking solemn, nodding in agreement until he’s satisfied and continues on. 

The dirt path leads right to the shack, and Eddie opens the door to let you in. It’s about the size of a studio apartment- wood stove and sink next to the bathroom door, twin bed draped with a thick quilt budged up under the single window. Small, but homey and clean.

As you take it in, spinning in a slow circle, Eddie sets your duffel next to the bed and runs a hand over the top of his head, haloed frizz of his hair springing back into place. “Ain’t much, I know- usually just host the town rascals; they bring their sleeping bags and fight over who gets the mattress. But the sheets are washed, and-”

“Eddie.” You stop his rambling with a hand to his arm. “Seriously, it’s great. Better than great. I was probably gonna end up sleeping on the streets tonight, and you saved me from that. So… thank you. I mean it.”

The vulnerability in your own voice catches you off guard, but you decide to lean in to it. Eddie’s been nice for no reason- or, rather, because he seems to be a kind person- and you want to make sure he hears how grateful you are for a place to stay.

He’s staring down at your hand on his bare arm, eyes clouded with something you can’t parse out; you draw your hand back, which prompts him to speak- “Shit, darlin’. It’s nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You can stay as long as you like.”

“It’s not nothing,” you insist, arms crossing over your chest, rocking back on your heels. There’s a sudden swell of panic rising like bile in your throat; this morning, you were hell-bent on leaving, and now, you think it’ll kill you not to stay.

“Listen-” Eddie’s eyes snap up at the urgency in your voice, but you manage to push through- “I know I didn’t tell you much, about where I came from, or what I did to end up…”

On my own. The words stick in your throat, tears pricking threateningly at the corners of your vision. “...out here. But I grew up on a farm. I’m used to working livestock, riding horses- I can be helpful. Can earn my keep over the weekend, at least, doing whatever you need-”

Eddie interrupts with a shake of his head, your stomach plummeting until he says, “Got enough farmhands as it is, honey. Don’t need you getting your pretty hands dirty.”

“There has to be something. I can’t cook worth a damn, but I can clean-”

“Hey.” Eddie’s tone of voice slips into a low, soothing register, like you’re a spooked animal caught in a trap. He steps closer, and when you don’t flinch, he settles his big hands on the tops of your shoulders. “Shh. It’s okay. Like I said earlier- I’m not expecting nothin’ from you. Okay?”

There’s gotta be some sort of magical effect happening, an old Celtic carving under the floorboards, maybe a witch's spell braided in with the dried herbs hanging on the far wall. You’ve never felt so looked at before, like you’ve swam beyond your depth and Eddie’s hands are a life raft.

His eyes flit around your face, taking in the expressions you’re surely flickering through before he says, quietly- “If you want, how ‘bout you stay ‘til the end of summer. Help out where you can, and come Fair time, I’ll deal you in on the profits.”

You open your mouth to argue, and smooth as butter, his right hand slips up your shoulder, tattooed fingers wrapping firm around the back of your neck, thumb tapping the pulse point under your jaw, insistent- “This way, you’ll have cash enough in your pocket to go anywhere you want. It’s a good deal and you damn well better take it.”

You wonder if he can feel the jackrabbit pulse of your heartbeat under his thumb. When you nod, he gives a dimpled smile, satisfied. “Good. Now I’ll let you settle in and get washed up for supper. Come on over to the main house when you’re ready.”

Before the door shuts behind him, Eddie adds, “And don’t get too excited. I ain’t much of a cook, neither.”

After his footsteps have retreated down the path, you collapse onto the mattress, springs squeaking. You flip to stare up at the ceiling, running your fingertips over the ghost of his touch branded against your neck, almost nauseous from elation.

A whole summer. On Eddie’s farm. With Eddie. 

After a few minutes of deep breathing, you get up to unpack your duffel, then fold your meager clothes supply neatly into the top drawer of an old oak dresser in the corner, still room enough for your canteen.

The last thing in your bag is a twine-wrapped leather pouch. Your butterfly knife makes quick work of the knots, and then, the last of your most precious things in the world are laid out on the bed. 

A certificate of completion from Indiana U’s Beekeeping Department, folded and creased but still valid, signed by your last field mentor. 

A driver’s license with your old address, square photo of a younger and more hopeful you smiling back.

And lastly, an engagement ring. Gold, with a teardrop-shaped diamond center and sparkling accent stones trailing up either side of the band. 

It twinkles when you hold it up to the evening sunbeam streaming through the window; reflective pinpricks of light scatter and dance across the quilt.

In quick succession, you slide everything back into the pouch, securing it with the drawstring before burying it inside the hidden pocket of your bag.

Then, you shove the duffel under the bed until it hits the wall, and turn away to wash up for dinner.

[trulyumai]

Starting the Jest

Pairing: Messmer the Impaler x Wife!Reader

Warnings: smoochinnn

Synopsis: Dirtied and tired; Messmer dragged his wife for a bath.

A/N: another chapter???? fuck yeah!!!

Enjoy everyone!

“Thou aren’t scheming, I hope?”

The man is sat, with knees spread as bubbles move vicariously through one another.

The bath was small, his chest lay on display as the younger woman coddles about the tub.

“Nay, dear husband,” she all but giggled out.

White foam is dusted across her delicate hands, she carefully but intently moves it across his form.

Messmer; the almighty

Messmer; the everliving flame…

Is currently being covered and buried in a vast amount of bubbles.

“It seemeth,” a sigh pushed its way past his lips.

With eyes trained onto the lady, big hands found their way across her waist.

“Thou is.”

The woman lightly shushed her husband, getting the foam to dance across both lips.

He grimaced and with brows knitted began his assault on the woman; to her ticklish sides.

“Mess— husband— please!” She managed to get out a couple words before pushing the large knight away. And although she backed up completely; the tub was too small to get any where far.

Messmer smiled, it pushed his cheeks up and dusted a light pink across his features.

And although it was from the ethereal woman he got to call his wife, he would never admit.

Instead, say how hot the chambers have gotten; blaming it on her need for incessant heat.

With a simple lift to the hand, he pulled the woman against him, shushing her moans with a kiss.

Fingernails dug into the man’s scalp, but ever used to such a pressure the man continued.

His tongue molded against hers, he noticed quickly, that she tasted like apples and fine aged wine.

The need for air was rising, her chest heaved as the man broke away hesitantly.

“My love, oh how it pains me to be pushed away so,”

Her arms sat on the maroon knights shoulders, lightly brushing the man’s hair back as her orbs rolled back with feign annoyance.

The room was indeed hot, steam rose from every crevice, and although the large window beside them lay open; it had little opportunity to help.

Light condensation could be seen on Messmer’s face, alighting his serene expression. Small hairs stuck to the sides of his temples like an invading mold. His wife brushed them away with a kiss.

From the two of them moving, water had splashed and soaked the golden tiles on display, which Messmer eyed carefully.

“Dear wife,” he began

His forehead touched hers, an action he was addicted to.

And could you blame him? He thought, carefully touching the woman before him.

To have such a goddess for a wife, why wouldn’t he want to be mere inches away?

“If thou is quite done, I would like to return to bed, hm?”

“Me? I’ve done nothing but bathe and dote on my husband!”

A noise left the man out of pure defiance and his fingers found the outline of her jaw.

“I shall engulf you; enjoy you slowly dear wife, for lying to your lord.”

Such a comment startled her out of rationalized thought.

Mouth agape she could only stare back at the man as her cheeks warmed with a light burn.

“Do not jest with me, Messmer,”

With an increase of strength, his palm closed around her cheeks, squeezing her puffy lips out for him.

He eyed them shamelessly, mesmerized by such complete and udder perfection.

“A—Are you done?”

With squished features her R’s began to sound like W’s, and such a simple thing garnished a laugh out of the flame.

Two hands came out to grab at his one, yet they stood powerless against such a strength.

“Say please, pretty wife.”

He stared once more

“Say it, and I’ll let you go, that you have my word.”

Water droplets drooped down her neck and dribbled past the expansion of her chest.

Messmer, ever distracted by such a feat, laid his other hand upon her breasts.

“Say it,” he begged.

The girls cheeks were sore, no longer did the silly antics seem so fun with all this teasing that came back at her.

“—please,”

“Please what?” The flame demanded as his head inched closer to hers, wanting to hear— to memorize the words that crawled out of her lips.

“Please, my husband,” she whispered, cheeks still aflame.

Instantly the hand left her features, and instead found home on her backside.

“That wasn’t so hard, hm?”

Stroking her spine it went down further, until the line of her buttocks was in his hold.

It gripped and squeezed the area, to which his wife begrudgingly allowed.

Her frame lay across his, with her neck crammed into his neck, too embarrassed to show her face.

“Let’s return, darling, my trip to the capital lay for the morning before us.”

Kissing her head he stood, with his wife atop his arms, ready for a warm bed and good nights rest.

For Messmer the Impaler could not begin his rein of terror without cuddling his wife prior.

[babygorewhore]

Love bites.

Rafe Cameron x fem reader

Part two to bite me!

After you disappear, Rafe finally finds you and decides that he’s going to win this final round, showing you exactly who you belong to. And maybe even return the favor of your little love bites. W. C 2.5K

Warnings! Biting! Non-graphic description of blood! Male masturbation! Oral! Male recieving! Daddy kink! Switch! Rafe! Unprotected sex! Spitting! Slight degrading! Dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx barely proofread because I’m tired and depressed. I also wanna burn it but I promised I wouldn’t lmao. Anyway. Enjoy!

“So, let me get this straight,” Wheezie drawls as she sips her milkshake, narrowing her eyes on Rafe. “My teacher's assistant, the girl you hooked up with, is a vampire?”

Rafe rolled his eyes and glared. “I told you. You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Yup! You’re right. I don’t. It’s insane.”

“Okay so then how did this happen?” Rafe pointed at the bandage on his neck and Wheezie sighed.

“She’s kinky?”

“Wheezie!” Rafe scolded and she gave him the middle finger and continued drinking from her beverage. He sighed and pinched his nose. She would be the death of him.

But he did sound crazy. Who in the hell would believe he fucked a vampire? He hadn’t seen you in three weeks. It was like you completely disappeared. Even on social media you hadn’t posted anything and he felt like a stalker but he couldn’t stop himself from constantly checking to see if you showed signs of existence.

He couldn’t get you out of his mind. Everything about you was electric and fucking addicting. Better than any drug he’d ever taken.

“Is that why you’re obsessed with vampires and werewolves now?” Rafe didn’t respond and Wheezie snorted.

“Okay, Bella Swan.”

Rafe gritted his teeth but he couldn’t blame her for teasing him. But he was determined to find you again and if it included begging you to be with him then god damn it he would.

Another week passed before he had some luck. A new nightclub opened and the advertising was catered specifically to alternative people. It was expensive and elegant. Just like you. He dug through his wardrobe for anything acceptable and impressive enough to get your attention if you went.

Rafe climbed out of his car after paying a ridiculous amount for parking and peeked at his reflection. It would work. His long legs carried him to the entrance of the club and he paid for his way. As he walked through, he was captivated by the darkness. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, decorative wallpaper covered the walls on either side and the floor shined. People were dressed in dark clothing with luxurious material and he honestly didn’t feel like he belonged. The music was reminiscent of what you played at his house and he looked around. Searching for your unmistakable beautiful face.

Minutes went by without seeing you and he decided to try and wait. You were stealthy and if you were here, you had already spotted him. He strides to the bar, ordering a shot to spark his energy. What if you went back home? To Salem? What if he was completely wrong?

The music stopped and he naturally glanced around the room and noticed the dance floor was empty. That was until a female stepped up and the lights focused on her.

It was you.

He wanted to immediately stand but your red stained smile and tilted head in his direction left him frozen. His entire body went warm as the song played. Your body began to move slowly, your dark dress clinging to your body and curves. You still wore elegant jewelry only now he noticed you looked tired. You were beautiful. Perfect. But he could see the way your lips were slightly turned down and his stomach tightened with worry.

You extended your hand, pointing your finger at him before curling it in a come here motion, your ring shining and he shot up. He maneuvered through the crowd, including an elbow to a man who wasn’t moving fast enough and Rafe stood in front of you, inhaling your sweet scent.

“Hi, Rafe.” You leaned in and rested a hand on his chest. Rafe’s palms set on your hips and his senses went into overdrive as you fluttered your lashes at him.

“Where did you go, baby doll? Thought you left here. I’ve been looking for you.”

“Awww, did my pretty boy miss me?” You tease as you tug on his sleeve. “You wanna be my little toy tonight?”

Rafe shivered before he gripped your ass, pressing you against him as tightly as possible. “You wanna tell me why you look so tired, princess?”

“You’re such a simp,” You smirked and Rafe furrowed his brows before cupping your face. You felt even colder than usual.

“Tell me. Where have you been?”

“Hmm…I’ve been thirsty. But the drinks here just aren’t as good as they are in Salem.” Your eyes flash with a wicked glint and Rafe’s neck prickles in memory of your sharp teeth puncturing his skin.

“You went back home?”

You nod as you both sway to the rock music, your head tilted up at him and Rafe peered deep into your eyes.They held years of mystery and darkness. He wanted to get lost in them forever. “If you need something to taste, you can always come to me.” He said with a hardened seriousness.

You hold your head to the side and trail your gaze along his face. Rafe leaned down and brushed his lips to your ear. “Come on. Show me how good that mouth is, baby girl.”

You smile and cup the back of his head. Bringing him down, you press kisses to his neck, moving aside his collar and Rafe’s cock hardened as he felt you nip at his shoulder before you settled in the crook of his throat. Two sharp points pricked his flesh and he sighed as his eyes rolled back in his head. Your soft lips slightly open as he felt droplets fall, his head lulled as you drank from him, moaning quietly before you pulled back.

The corners of your lips were glistening and you licked your fangs. “Mmm, daddy. So sweet.”

Rafe went to kiss you but you reached up and paused him. “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”

“You love to fucking torture me, don’t you?” He growled and you laughed.

“You make it so easy. You’re like a little submissive puppy, Rafey. You’ll do anything I say. Won’t you?” Rafe wanted to take you right in the middle of the dance floor but he also didn’t want this to end.

“You’re really cocky,” Rafe decided to change his approach. “Is that all you can do? Drink my blood then run away like a scared little bunny? I thought vampires were scary.”

You grinned with a shrug. “Trying to bait me, huh? Nice move.”

“Oh, I’m just pointing out the obvious. I had you creaming on my cock better than any other fucker and you know it. I know your pussy is dripping right now, I can see the way you're pushing your legs together. Baby girl, try to be more subtle than that.” Rafe cupped your chin and watched you inhale sharply as his fingers brushed the exposed skin of your chest, lingering above your heart. “Now, try and behave yourself. I want you to think about how good it felt being my little greedy slut and how hard I made you cum but you’re not gonna touch yourself. No. You’re gonna wait. For me.”

You tried to catch his lips but he stood back with a wink. “You know where I live, Angel. Be a good girl for me and remember what happens when you’re not.”

It was almost impossible to walk away from you but Rafe was determined to finally meet you at your level and as he walked away, his heart raced with triumph.

He won round three.

Rafe stared at his ceiling three nights later, rubbing his eyes as sleep refused to claim him. He missed you so much it hurt. He knew he was obsessed with you but he couldn’t find it in himself to care about how desperate he looked. He needed you. He needed everything about you. He needed your sweet, tight pussy that made his cock ache just thinking about it.

His hand drifted to his boxers and as much as he wished it was you, his own palm would have to be enough for now. Rafe clutched his dick, precum leaking from the tip as he smeared it with his thumb and fisted it. He jerked it, hard and roughly as he thought about your pretty sounds when he pounded you from the back, panties stuffed in your mouth as your ass bounced. Fuck, he needed that. As his eyes fell shut and his mouth parted as he touched himself, already getting close just from the memory of you.

“Oh? Looks like someone is being a bad boy.”

Rafe stilled at the sound of your voice and sat up quickly. He saw the outline of your body standing by his open window. He could see the glimmer of your jewelry in the dark and he turned on his light on his phone. You were smiling, fangs out and your makeup was applied perfectly. Only you weren’t wearing a dress. You were wearing one of his black t-shirts without any pants underneath, showing off the perfect curve of your thighs.

“I mean come on, Rafe. Is it really fair to say I can’t finger fuck myself when you’re jerking off to the thought of me alone in bed?” You shook your head and clicked your tongue. “That's very bad.”

You slowly walked over to his bed, standing beside it and Rafe breathed heavily as you leaned down, pressing a hand to his heart. “I can hear your heart beating…racing just for me.”

You flipped the covers back, exposing his hardened cock underneath his underwear and he saw you smirk. “Looks like you need some help, daddy.” He inhaled sharply as you crawled on the bed, separating your knees as you lowered yourself down. You pulled down his boxers, spitting on his cock before you lapped at the tip, causing him to lay back and his hand found your hair.

Your tongue traced the sides, hand pumping the middle of his shaft before your lips wrapped around his balls and you sucked. He was going to go crazy as you released it with a pop and returned to his dick, pulling it into your mouth and you sucked.

You moaned as he lightly tapped your cheek and then tightly pulled your hair as you bobbed your head up and down, working him with your tongue at the same time as you hollowed your cheeks and took him deeper down your throat.

“Fucking shit. You’re a dirty little slut,” He huffed as he thrust his hips upward, spilling into your mouth and you moaned. He shakes violently as you continue sucking, messily overstimulating him and he finally manages to reach down. He maneuvered you onto your back, yanking up his shirt up over your head and exposed your black lace set you had on.

“Did you listen to me like a good girl?” He quirked an eyebrow and you rolled your eyes. “Mmm, I’m actually glad you didn’t. Now I have another excuse to put you in your place.”

Rafe tore off your panties, throwing them off the side of the bed and he tugged off your bra. Your tits bounced and he groaned at your hardening nipples. He leaned down, flicking his tongue on the sensitive buds before nipping at them with his teeth. “Let’s feel how fucking wet you are,” he shoves his hand down, not wasting time being gentle and swiped his fingers along your dripping core.

He shoved them into your mouth, your lips wrapped around his digits and he growled. “Taste that? That’s for me. All me. You belong to me, princess.” He smacks your ass before he slides his cock along your slit, “I’m gonna fuck you and then lick it clean.” He promises before pushing in, his dick hardening inside your tight pussy.

He holds down your wrists, “you don’t get to touch me, baby girl. You gotta learn somehow,” he breathes as you roll your hips, sucking him deeper and your eyes roll back as he moves.

Your cunt squelches as he pounds into you, the bed jerking from his strength and your legs wrap around his waist. “Daddy,” you whine and try to pull your hands loose but he shakes his head.

“Yeah? Your cunt belongs to daddy. Say it. Beg for me to make you cum and maybe I’ll let you touch me.” He licks up your neck to meet your mouth in a bruising kiss before he pulls back.

“Mmm, please! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I’ll be good for you, I’ll be so good for you,” You choke but he shakes his head.

“Nah, I don’t fucking think so.” He pulls your lower lip between his teeth and you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out slightly.

He takes the invitation and spits inside, watching you swallow it before you shriek as your orgasm hits you. He feels your cum around his dick and he slams into you one more time before his own peak hits him. Ropes of his cum gush into you, leaking out and he buries his head in your neck.

“Bite me,” you whisper. “Want you to mark me,”

Rafe sinks his teeth into your skin and tastes slight copper as you moan loudly. He finally lets you go, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck. “Does this mean I’ll be like you?” He chuckles and then makes his way down your body, separating your sticky thighs.

“It’s not that simple,” you respond before you sigh with pleasure as he drags his tongue along your pussy, licking up your cum with a small amount of blood in his mouth.

“Taste so good, baby girl. So you’re so sweet,” He mumbles against your clit before circling around the center, making your thighs close around his head. “Could stay down here forever,”

“Kiss me, Rafe.” He feels you pull him up by his hair and he meets your lips, mixing your tastes together.

“Don’t leave me again,” He asks between harsh kisses. “Stay. I’ll do whatever you need me to.”

You both stayed there for minutes, breathing in each other and he couldn’t get enough. “Will you be here when I wake up?” He asks, coming to a stop as he hovers above you.

“I’ll be here. I promise.” You cup his cheek, slightly stroking it and he leans into the touch. “You’re such a little simp,” you repeat from earlier and he shrugs.

“I have a thing for vampires.”

He laid on his back, pulling you to his chest and you listened to his heartbeat. “One of these days you’re gonna have to show me everything you can do.”

“Yeah? You wanna hear all my stories?” You tease in the dark and he nods.

“All of them, baby. Then maybe you’ll tell me how old you are.”

You pinch his side and he laughs. “Promise me again. You’ll stay?”

“I promise.”

His eyes drifted shut after you both fell into silence. He woke up to his alarm and smiled when he looked down. You were still in his arms.

Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @marchsfreakshow @slvt4jamesmarch @drewstarkeyslut @rafescurtainbangz @emsgoodthinkin @drudyslut @oceandriveab @rafesthroatbaby @theoraekenslover @redhead1180 @gri959 @voyeurmunson

[ssturnsfx]

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NSFW ALPHABET

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a/n: ive seen this like 30 times so i thought id do it too lol

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A - aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

pretty good with aftercare, he’ll make sure you feel alright and comfortable before doing anything for himself.

B - body part (their favourite body part of theirs and of yours)

he lowk likes his eyes. the way you look into them when you’re sucking him off… woah who said that??

he’s an ass man for sure. he’s always making comments and staring at it and touching it. even in public.

“nice ass, ma.”

“thats the third time today, chris.”

C - cum (anything to do with cum)

loves to cum inside of you, if you’ve got plan b. if not, he’ll pull out and cum on your body.

D - dirty secret (self-explanatory, a dirty secret they have)

he literally gets turned on by normal shit you do. loves when you drop things so he can watch you bend down to pick them up.

E - experience (how experienced are they?)

has 2-3 bodies before you, he knows what he’s doing.

F - favourite position

LOVES backshots idc.

honourable mention to spooning for sleepy sex!

G - goofy (are they more serious or humorous in the moment?)

more serious but unless you’re really going at it he might crack a joke every now and then.

H - hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

he keeps it nicely trimmed down there.

I - intimacy (how romantic are they in the moment?)

he’s almost always kissing you. he would make out with you for hours if he could.

J - jack off (masturbation hc)

when you aren’t around, he’ll pull up photos you send him or videos you guys took together.

K - kink (one or more kinks they have)

loves to mark you up. he’ll kiss you and give you hickeys all down your body.

also loves when you leave scratch marks down his back.

lowk also breeding

L - location (favourite places to do it)

anywhere he can just bend you over and take you right then (bed, table, counter, etc.)

bonus: he loves pushing you up against the wall and doing it standing up there.

M - motivation (what turns them on)

hearing you. the noises you make could finish him in minutes.

N - no (something they won’t do, turn-offs)

open relationship/threesome. he loves you too much to share you.

O - oral (preference giving or receiving, skill)

he loves a good blowjob from you, but the way your eyes roll back whenever he eats you out really turns him on.

P - pace (are they fast and rough or slow and sensual?)

usually fast and rough, but some nights if you guys are tired or just not in the mood for fast sex, he’s going slow and sensual.

Q - quickie (opinion of quickies, how often)

he’s almost always down for a quickie. just ask and to the bathroom you go.

R - risk (are they down to experiment or take risks?)

if you’re down to take a risk, so is he. don’t like it? it’s never happening again.

S - stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

as much as he would like to go for 5, he can only go for 2 or 3 if he’s really feeling it. he lasts a good amount of time.

T - toys (do they own toys? do they use them?)

he doesn’t own any, but you have a few. he’ll use them on you every now and then, but he wants to be the one pleasuring you, not some toy.

U - unfair (do they tease?)

he loves watching you get pissed off when he teases you, but you know it’ll be worth it in the end.

V - volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

loves to talk dirty. he’s always whispering stuff in your ear. other than that, he’ll grunt or groan every few minutes.

W - wild card (random hc)

he always takes in your facial expressions. he loves the way your mouth hangs open and your eyes roll back.

X - x-ray (whats going on under the clothes?)

definitely big, but he’s more on the girthy side.

Y - yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he’s definitely a hornball. he’s always texting or calling to ask if you can come over.

“please im horny again”

“chris i left ten minutes ago what is wrong with you”

“sorry.”

Z - zzz (how long does it take for them to fall asleep after?)

bro passes tf out about 97% of the time. he would like to stay awake and cuddle you, but after putting all his energy into pleasuring you, he physically can’t.

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[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

A quick meal

cw: shameless smut, no use of y/n, female anatomy for reader, desk sex, dirty talk, slightly rough(-ish)? perhaps??

word count: 1,5k

eng is not my first language, please inform me if you spot any mistakes!

Viktor always knew it’s what inside that counts. And so he counted. Every rich moan escaping your mouth, every squelch of the fondly fingered pussy — it’s every prominence, fold and flexure, and, of course — exactly how much pressure you prefer on your clit. Well, at least that explanation was the only reasonably-appearing one to you, because how the hell did he know how to make you cream his fingers in coats of delicious stickiness in exactly few minutes, the stretch of them so qualitative your throbbing walls could easily accept his cock with little to no effort put into penetration. He must have used an ungodly amount of diligence to develop this specific technique just for you — his precious, lecherous sweetheart. Your whimpers are a devil on his shoulder, distracting him from being a stern, dispassionate about anything except for his research man. That little temptation invited him into the warmth of your precious core instead. It kept luring in, filling his genius mind with dreamy filth. Besides: it’s so much better to be buried within the tightness of your cunt than within the loneliness of his lab, untouched and craving you in his arms so desperately. No, he most certainly would prefer the first option.

“Relax,” sultry whisper teases your ear, while the free from fucking into you hand crawled up, preliminarily teasing the swell of each breast on its way to your throat — to be wrapped around it like a pretty collar, securely tight, not firm enough to actually hurt, but to rather keep you in place, adding to the thrill, to the longing.

He rarely fucks you like this. Viktor’s never been a huge fan of quickies — he’s a taster at heart, thorough and passionate — a sloppy kiss here, a teasing lick there — working you up even when it’s not needed anymore, for the sake of pure entertainment — more his than yours, to be completely honest, but he would never willingly admit to that.

He likes to savour you, like a fresh fruit one’s supposed to eat slowly — painfully so, even, memorising the flavour in explicit detail, letting it engrave into the taste receptors.

But there’s cyanide even in the finest peaches. Eat too many — and you’re incapable of consuming anything anymore, death plastered across your gourmand-face. It takes around fifteen peach pits to kill a curious starved soul, after all.

So tonight Viktor stays away from the cyanide. He’s had enough ravishing for now, turning a solid number of your previous intercourses into love-making. He’s eager, and he’s treating you like a quick meal — totally different from his usual ‘eat-you up-like-you’re-the main course’ demeanour. Not that you mind, of course. Dining hastily has its charms too.

“Keep your legs spread for me,” the gentle demand continues to sting your ear, and as much as you’d love to comply — you simply can’t, trembling knees doing you no favours, allowing no small mercies.

“Darling?” he repeats, the sharpness of his ‘r’ a scrumptious scratch to your brain, turning you into a mess — nearly irreparable, matching the one you’ve turned his desk into once he bent you over it, capturing tightly between his erection and the hard wooden edge, kindly depriving you off the worries about your clothes getting in the way. So thoughtful of him.

Rolled up skirt rests on your lower back, exposing the plumpness of soft hips — so grabable, they’re practically begging for his attention, but he’s reluctant to pull the long fingers out of you just yet. You’re clenching around them so perfectly, blessing him with the privilege of feeling your every twitch.

The presence of your underwear doesn’t concern you anymore — it’s wrapped around your ankles, pretty lace occasionally tickling the skin, reminding of the abrupt harshness Viktor’s sinewy hands had ripped them off you with. So brusque when it comes to fucking you from behind that a mere touch feels rougher than the deepest of thrusts. Your pussy might be able to take him without turning into a mess, but your sanity? You wish he’d left you some, just the tiniest bit to at least obey him easily.

But not all wishes were meant to be fulfilled.

You mewl something hopelessly illegible as your words drown in your own moan, lewd sounds of his fingers parting the swollen folds of an already spent cunt louder than your actual voice. And suddenly body language is not a figurative concept anymore.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” the kind threat encourages hoarsely. “Or should I spread them for you?”

You can only squeeze out a nod. Viktor releases your neck with a sympathetic chuckle, and a deft hand grabs at your left calf, helping a trembling leg to step out of the damp lingerie, leaving it completely forgotten and lonely on the floor. You’ll collect it later: if only the dirty-minded inventor lets you, of course. Which was highly doubtful, since tucking your undergarments into a pocket of his dresspants started to really grow on him lately. The possibility of obstaclessly fucking you over another surface once you’re in private again is too tempting to be pushed away so fast.

You fall on his desk, cold wood a tough pillow to your flushed cheek. However the loving hand stroking at your flesh doesn’t move to proceed with complaisant ministrations on your right limb. The buckle of his belt jingles, unfastening, negligently joining your underwear on the floor. You quirk an inquisitive eyebrow, putting a rather pathetic effort into propping yourself up, searching for an explanation to his movements. But a rough palm falls on your lower back with a thump, firmly pacifying, practically smacking.

“Don’t move, dear,” he hisses, pulling his fingers out of you right before you got the chance to cum all over them. Scarily rigorous again. And vicious. But you don’t say that. It’s not like you’re able to talk coherently anyway.

Something — which you suspect to be his foot — persistently forces your legs out of the way, sprawling you more for his hungry gaze. The toe of his shoe roughly kisses each one of your heels, spreading you open, just as he’d promised.

“How rude!” you exclaim, voice dripping with fake resentment.

“Rude?” he laughs, and the next thing you feel is a caring peck on a shoulder, the sweet heat of his breath back where it belongs — teasing the shell of your ear. “Well, please excuse me this one whim, but can you really blame me? Besides, I suppose my… barbarism happened to be quite efficient.”

His tip is pressed against your entrance, slowly working its way inside, brushing a puffy labia on its way. You’re sure it’s leaking with precum for you already — it might be impossible to feel through the lavish wetness seeping out of you, but you know Viktor good enough to be certain of pearly bitterish liquid breaking out of his slit.

You don’t lack his fingers anymore — not when you’re about to be so much more palpably filled, the thickness of his cock irreplaceable with any amount of his phalanxes. An unsolved mystery for both of you. The one leading you to an embarrassingly primitive statement — whatever it is so special about him keeps you coming back for more.

“There was no need to be so ill-mannered. I could have spread my legs just perfectly fine,” you mutter a shameless lie, already expecting a protest.

“And from my expertise you weren’t exactly competent,” Viktor mocks with a tortuously handsome smirk, and you make a fatal mistake of looking over your shoulder right when his narrow hips thrust into yours, his length splitting you with a delicious burn. It takes away the remnants of your stamina. “Because trust me, I can tell when one’s incapable of standing on their own feet — let alone moving properly. Coming from an adept, figuratively speaking.”

He bends lower, warm dry lips pressed to the glistening sweat on your temple. He doesn’t rush to have his way with you anymore, hand found peace on your chin, tilting up, gently forcing a thumb into the open mouth. You greet it with a needy bite, a wordless plea to convince him to finally start pounding into you, to satisfy the body lusting for his steady thrusts.

“You’re quivering,” Viktor notes with a pensive hum. “Shall I proceed? You look like you’re in more need of a cane than I am, my darling. So wobbly.”

The plea-bite on his thumb quickly turns into a menacing one. Canine pierces the skin, earning a muffled against the mess of your hair ‘ouch’, demanding the heartily craved resumption.

“Am I pinned like this forever or are you done with the fucking drollery?”

A sultry laugh caresses your ear, and the throbbing cock inside you slips almost all the way out, leaving you clenching purely around the bulging tip.

“Save the swearing,” utters the pretty tempter.

A rough roll of his hips into yours. Ass bounces off his pelvis, the slap of skin against skin loud and resonant, mingling with your desperate gasp just perfectly. Has you seeing numerous sparks, mouth drops open in a breathless ‘yes’.

“That vocabulary is only appropriate for an orgasm.”