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sinsolstice · 20 days ago

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★ 彡 STRESS RELIEVER. ✧ MIGUEL O'HARA

oneshot ❥ you're struggling to keep your focus with the stress and miguel offers to ease that worry off you.

❥ tropes: modern + college au. afab reader + playboy miguel. ❥ content warning: explicit content (18+), finger f*cking, dirty talk. minors do not interact. ❥ extras: divider creds: cafekitsune. ❥ wc: 3,573

a/n. this is long overdue for someone who requested miguel to finger fuck reader as a stress relief. i aged reader and miguel to between 22-23 in this oneshot since they're college students. this fic is longer than intended but hey, we like to take it slow burn here.

Sometimes you contemplate why you put yourself in this kind of situation.

You were aware that you have exams coming up in the next few weeks. But you were focused on making sure that you got your assignments done before the deadline. So it was natural for you to prioritise those. You wish you had paid more attention to the dates because just when you thought that you would have more time to revise, you didn’t. Leaving you with only three weeks until your exam. And now you’re struggling to get information into your head.

“Fuck,” you mumble. The machine makes a soft drilling noise as it pours coffee into your mug. You rub your forehead with your hand as you wait for your drink to finish. Thinking about what topics you need to revise for the exam. Mentally planning how you would organise and plan yourself for another long session of studying. It’s going to be another long night.

When your drink is ready, you stride your way to the dining table where all your notes and books are set. With not enough desk space you have in your room, the dining table has turned into your second desk to accommodate all the reading materials and your laptop to work on. You strap yourself in your seat, ready for another torturous session of studying for the finals.

All the caffeine from the coffee, tea and sugary energy drinks didn’t last long in your system. At first, you feel the buzz of the caffeine that helps you go through two hours of reading and answering mock questions without a proper break. You feel yourself pushing through, feeling motivated that you can do this. But then, the effects wear off, and now you’re struggling through short video clips on your laptop after two hours into your study session.

Your mind battles. Reminding you about the consequences of you losing more time. But you can’t be bothered at the moment. You are convincing yourself that you deserve a break from studying for fifteen minutes which turned into a two-hour rest and procrastination.

At this rate, you know that you won't get any studying done. You’re going to have to face the consequences of that but you can’t be bothered about it for now. Staring mindlessly at your laptop with headphones on as you watch a reality television adaption to pass the time.

“Dios, you’re still here this late?”

Your eyes look up from your laptop to find your roommate in the dining area. Miguel stands at the entrance in his black leather jacket, red shirt underneath and dark-coloured jeans. His black helmet rests on his left lip and it looks like he’s returned from wherever he went or did. You didn’t realise that he wasn’t in the house you both shared all this time. “When was the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror? You look shit.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” You say. Your relationship with Miguel O’Hara is rather tricky, to say the least. Sometimes, the two of you get along and have a decent conversation with each other about careers, and personal experiences and share similar interests. Though other times, it’s not necessary. It’s mostly when he would bring people over to the house and then take one girl up to his room. Having to hear moans from the girls he fucked and Miguel’s growls and dirty talks.

It annoys you to no end, especially the one incident when you walked into the bathroom with him getting a blow job in the shower. It’s still his fault for not locking the bathroom or even putting a sign on the door to say that he’s busy getting pleased.

Even after that, your subtle attraction for Miguel still resonates with you.

You realise your mug is empty, another drink that is supposed to keep you going has gone to waste in your system. You can’t be bothered but you know that you’ve wasted time not studying when you’re supposed to. So, you get up from your seat, walk into the kitchen and do the same routine that you’ve done the past few weeks when you’re cramming for finals. Either make your coffee, or tea or grab an energy drink. The caffeine from the coffee is too much for you to handle at the moment and tea isn’t strong enough for you. So you settle for an energy drink where it’s in between enough caffeine to maybe help you go through for another three hours for now.

“Are you thinking of studying again?” Miguel sounds a bit disbelieving, but not surprised. He’s now in the kitchen with you as you take your energy drink of choice for the night—or early morning. You don’t want to look at the time “There’s no point. You’re not going to remember anything at this rate.”

“Can we just… not do this?” You warn, holding your hand up as a sign for him to stop talking. Stop creating conversations that would lead to an argument because you know it would happen. Especially with your emotions all over the place.

Miguel stares at you, his eyes roaming up and down. Not long after, his lips curl into a smirk. Leaning his side against the frame of the long, rectangular entrance arch. “You’re stressed out. Miss Perfect finally breaks down for finals.”

A tired sigh escapes out of your mouth. You focus to proceed on opening up the can, hearing its fizziness before pouring it into your mug. “You could say that.”

The kitchen falls into silence. What he says is certainly true and you feel that you brought this on yourself. You were off-tracked with your assignments and didn’t check the right exam dates. It’s an error on your part but you are trying to do your best to make it through another year of college without failing. At this point, you’re willing to accept a passing grade just to make it to another year.

“I’ll study and keep you company,” Miguel declares. “Only to make sure you stay focused and get on track. No more messing around. Got that?”

You blink, unprepared for his words. You’re not sure why he’s doing this to you but what he said made a rush of warmth fill your chest. Despite his words, you guess that he thinks it’s better to have someone to study with rather than doing it alone. But you don’t ask Miguel if that’s his intention, in case he decides to rethink his offer.

“Thank you.”

Miguel unfolds his arms and lets it drop to his sides. His hands are in his pockets as he’s about to leave, but then he looks over his shoulder to you. “And also; nadie bebe su bebida energética de una taza.” He says before disappearing elsewhere.

You blink and look down at the mug in your hand, guessing that Miguel is talking about how energy drinks are meant to drink from their can, and not from a mug.

* * * * *

You did manage to push yourself for another two hours before you came crashing again.

“I can’t focus on anything else right now. My mind has gone blank.” You sigh, slumping on your seat. That’s another study session that failed.

“Hm,” Miguel responds. Focusing on his study materials. “I think you’ve studied too much. That’s why you’re burned out.”

There is some truth to his words. You have been pushing yourself to the bone for this exam and now your mind is haywired. Everything feels numbing in your head. The feelings of exhaustion, guilt and unbotheredness are jumbled in you.

“I’m just really stressed out. I want to do well on this exam but my brain just… can’t grasp anything that I’ve studied.” You say, sounding a little disheartened. “I can’t focus, I can’t concentrate.”

Miguel couldn’t help but glance at you. Taking in the way you’re slumped in your seat and how hollow your eyes are, filled with fatigue and emptiness. You look stressed out. He wonders when was the last time you had rest – a proper break. Not the stupid Pomodoro breaks where you take five to ten minutes of break time before getting back to studying.

He wonders when was the last time you had taken care of yourself?

Miguel turns his attention to you when he hears you close one of your heavy books. You let out a sigh, “I can’t even relax without being so much on edge. Fuck.”

He thinks you’re right as he sees the way your body tenses in stress and anxiety. Miguel’s expression stays unfazed though he does feel sympathy seeing you in such a state. “Hey, you should get some rest. Go to bed early or something.”

“I will after I attempt to get this lesson done. Then, I’ll go to bed.”

Miguel gives you a solemn look. Your determination is one of the things he admires about you. Your willingness to do whatever it takes to get your points across. It made you endearing in his eyes. But at the moment, it’s making you look stubborn and somewhat prideful. The last thing you need is a bad experience of burnout before your exam, and he knows that you know this as well deep down.

“Let me help you to relax,”

“Huh?” You shoot him a confused look. As if he’s said something unusual to you. “Help me… relax? How do you plan on doing that?”

Miguel nods, “You are tensed up and you’re not getting anything remembered in your head. Your mind can’t focus.”

You raise a brow at him, unsure where your roommate is coming from. Miguel is right, you do need to take a proper break since your productivity is rather counterproductive. But his words still puzzle you about how he can help you relax. “And how do you plan on doing that, exactly?” You ask curiously. “What do you do to relax when you’re stressed out?”

“You know, go to the gym. Take a walk, drive around.” Miguel says it casually. “Sometimes masturbating helps to wire your brain to relax.”

You stare at your roommate before burying your face in your hands with a groan. Not only is the suggestion embarrassing but you have to imagine Miguel playing with himself. How his hands would stroke his cock, hot and pulsing in the palm of his hands. Envisioning the grunted breaths and deep groans he makes. It isn’t as if you haven’t done that to yourself either, pleasuring yourself. You’ve done that on the nights where you could hear the headboard of his bed from his room moving as the girl Miguel brought for the night kept moaning.

You shake your head, dismissing the thoughts immediately. Or try to. “I’m not in the right mindset to do that.”

Miguel raises an eyebrow. “I’m not saying you should do it. I’m offering to do it. It’s on the table for you.”

“What?” You stare at him in shock and confusion. You think you heard him wrong but from the unfazed look on his face, you know that he is serious about this. Serious about giving you an orgasm, or maybe multiple orgasms. Because you know from the women and girls he brings over to fuck, Miguel has them moaning more than three times.

When you open up your mouth, you can hear yourself stammering your words. The thought of it is disgusting but at the same time, arouses you. “Miguel, I–”

“Do you trust me?” He asks, his red eyes piercing into yours. Captivating you to stop talking. To stop denying the offer of pleasure. You give Miguel a look of uncertainty, unsure how to respond to his offer.

“What’s it gonna be?” Miguel asks. The corner of his mouth curves up to a tiny smirk. “No pressure, chica. I want you to think about it and let me know if you’re up for it or not.”

Miguel goes back to reading his study notes with a neutral expression as if the conversation didn’t happen. He doesn’t look at you and the silence in the room speaks volumes. Leaving you to think about the offer. You’re not sure why he is even offering himself to give you pleasure. Miguel is your friend, for goodness sake. The guy is out of your league and he has been with other people, you know this. Is he doing this out of pity or could there be more to it?

The two of you have lived together for three years of schooling, and have known each other for that long. He doesn’t give you attention in a lustful way or lustful like he does with other girls; the kind of interest in starting a sexual relationship with you. It’s a blessing in disguise yet at the same time, you want a connection more than just being his friend.

You have a crush on Miguel but he doesn’t seem the type of guy who isn’t ready to commit to one person just yet. Especially when you’re both still young and exploring life ahead.

“Okay,” you closed your book with a thud. You catch his eyes when you fully turn to talk to him. This idea is already as insane as it is, but you’re desperate to stop feeling like a lost cause about your exam. You just want to forget about your test for a few minutes. Maybe a couple of hours at most. “I’ll take up on your offer. What I’ve been doing is not working, and I need some sort of break before I go insane.”

Miguel grins and then puts his reading materials away. You always think that he looks so handsome when he smiles. “Well then. Move your books and laptop aside and sit on the table for me.” Miguel looks at you when you stare at him. “It will be a lot nicer like that, trust me.” He adds.

“Okay, I’ll get my stuff out of the way.” You say and begin picking up your books and laptop. Miguel does the same, putting his things away, then turns his attention to look at you.

You’re sitting on the edge of the table, waiting for his next words. The beating of your heart thumping is the only thing you can hear as you watch Miguel. He stands in front of you in between your thighs. Tall, built and handsome. His red eyes look down on you as they shine under the lights in the dining area.

You feel his hands on the sides of your waistband shorts, his fingers brushing against your clothed skin and hips. “May I?” Miguel asks as he looks at you.

“Sure,” you say. You’re not one to be nervous around easily but your roommate seems to have that effect on you. When you lift your hips slightly, Miguel curls his fingers on the waistband and pulls down your shorts. Discarding your clothed item you notice that he’s taken off your panties too. “Miguel–”

His stare made you pause, his red piercing eyes keep you quiet. You’ve always known what Miguel’s eyes are like but in this moment of what you’re letting him do to you, it stirs feelings in you. The gaze in his eyes is fiery in desire; so focused and enraptured. He looks at you in silence – keeping his eyes on you – as he slowly pulls down everything and discards it somewhere in the room.

“Open your legs a little for me, pretty,” Miguel tells you. “Yes, that’s it.”

The heat on your cheeks burns you as your heart thumps in your chest at how intimate and vulnerable the situation looks. Never in your dreams you would be in this situation, much less doing it with Miguel O’Hara.

“It’s not too late to change your mind and tell me no.” He says. Standing between your legs, his calloused fingers on your inner right thigh. “I won’t hate you for it.”

Your breathing is soft and steady. “Shouldn’t you have asked me that before you took my panties off?” You chuckled with a small smile. You feel a little more relaxed about what you and he are starting.

Miguel grins, “I probably should have.” His expression becomes serious. “I’ll start slow.”

You watch as he puts two fingers in his mouth with a gentle suck. When he pulls them out, his digits are glistened wet under the lights. Lubricated and wet against his tan skin. Miguel catches you dazing at him, his intense expression stays on you, as he brings his fingers between your thighs. They find themselves between your flaps, tracing your inner folds with his fingertips.

“You’re already wet before I touch you.” Miguel hums in approval. “That’s good.”

His fingers move slowly like he promised. You feel him gather your sleek arousal with a gentle swipe of his thumb and move up to the hood of your cunt. You moan softly when you feel Miguel play with your clit, circling and putting just the right pressure that has you tingling in sensation. Your hands grip on the edge of the table as you brace yourself.

“Gosh, that feels nice.” You sigh. Your eyes are closed, indulging in the pleasure, finding your body relaxed and mind in tranquillity. Focusing on feeling his fingers touch and tease your folds and clit. Maybe this is what you truly need for a break from intense studying.

“I like the look on your face,” Miguel tells you. You can picture the smirk from the tone of his voice. “This is just the beginning of your stress relief.”

You didn’t get to open your eyes and ask him what he meant when you felt something push inside your cunt. Your walls are wet and warm, feeling one of Miguel’s digits sliding into your pussy with ease. It has you gasping and moaning softly, your back arches and hands gripping tightly onto the table edge. Miguel has his index finger in you and he slips in his middle finger, stretching your pussy open. His thumb is still circling your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of you.

“Stay still, bonita.” His voice deeps, almost growling. “And don’t think. Just focus on the feeling of my fingers. Relax for me.”

You can’t help but tighten around his fingers from the command. Hoping that he didn’t feel the way your clit throbs from his command. You never heard him speak like that before – maybe not to you – but it sounds hot. All you could focus on is the way his fingers rub and massage your pussy.

You can tell that Miguel is certainly experienced with the way he can tease your vulva and play with your clit, letting your breathless sighs and moans guide him. It’s completely easy to forget about anything else but being finger fuck by the guy you liked.

“Oh, oh.” You softly moan, putting the heels of your feet on the edge of the table. Your hands clutch onto his forearms as Miguel fingers you. It has your head spinning with the way he alternates between fingering and rubbing your slick folds. The pace is not fast or slow-- just perfect, as it eases you off and you forget about what you're stressed about in the first place.

And when he pushes his fingers into your pussy, it has you tilting your head back in ecstasy, moaning his name, as you feel him going deeper.

"So tight around my fingers. You definitely need this." Miguel smirks, his breath warms your neck. “Need a good stretch, don’t you, bonita?”

You groan as you feel him continuously plunge his digits in and out of you. Miguel doesn’t stick to one way to pleasure you; he would rub your wet folds, flicker your clit up and down and sideways with his thumb, and circle your little pearl. At the corner of your eye, you see the corner of his mouth curve up in a smirk when clutching onto his forearms for dear life.

“Miguel,” you mewl. The knot in your lower belly tightens when he plunges his whole fingers into your slick pussy, thrusting them in and out. Your body moves in a sudden, forward thrust when Miguel continues to come hither inside your pussy, having his fingers rubbing your G-spot. He doesn’t stop to flicker and circle your throbbing clit and a sultry gasp catches in your throat as your thighs begin to quiver. “Oh, fuck!”

“That’s it, beautiful. Oh, you really do need this, don’t you?” Miguel asks almost mockingly. You arch your back in his embrace and let out another moan, feeling his two fingers flicking inside your pussy walls. He knows exactly what he’s doing, drawing out more noises from you as your lower body still trembles, and your cum spilling out of your folds and onto his fingers.

It feels as if Miguel is toying with you and pussy for a long time, even after being overstimulated and sensitive. He slows down his ministrant but still has his fingers gently rubbing circles on your clit and wet folds. You relax in his arm, head on his shoulder as you regain your senses from orgasm. All thoughts cleared up in your head and you couldn’t even remember what you were thinking or doing earlier before being finger-fucked.

Miguel’s voice sounds a little raspy and distinct, still toying with your cunt, as he whispers: “Wanna continue this elsewhere?”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #the miguel effect #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you

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uc1wa · 1 year ago

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18+ minors dni

OCT. 1 — KINKTOBER ‘23

PUBLIC SEX & SEX POLLEN WITH DICK GRAYSON

ktober m.list

tags: fem reader, breeding, noncon photography

it wasn’t unusual for dick to go on patrol in the early hours of the evening. after all, being the oldest son in his family, the man was given—and took—the tasks and times in which his siblings didn’t want

8PM was the time when you saw your boyfriend on the news, snapshots and lives videos being taken through windows of the vigilante nightwing successfully placing poison ivy under arrest. handcuffs were placed on her wrists that rested against her back, defeat filling her face as nightwing was quick to make his escape before police had flooded the area.

9:30PM was the time you were supposed to meet your boyfriend at the wine bar you chose. thirty minutes after he finished patrol, giving him just enough time to freshen up and put on a nice outfit for you. though; he had arrived exactly one minute prior, walking in with furrowed eyebrows and a tight lip—contrast to the soft smile you were putting on display for him.

"hi baby," you greeted once he was in audible distance. without a beat to acknowledge your words, a single greeting upon you, he’s placing his hand on your arm."let’s go," he says, standing beside your form that’s sat at a high top.

your brows furrow as you watch dick, the way his face held close to no emotion, the way his aura felt as if a cloud was hanging over it, he felt so dark.

"what..? we made reservations here for tonight," you remind the man, this date planned earlier in the day. planned around dick’s schedule most of all. but, dick doesn’t care as only one thing is occupying his mind.

his hand takes hold of yours, pulling it enough for it to fall off the table and enough for you to know he wasn’t joking. enough to know that, despite protests, you weren’t staying long enough to finish the glass of wine that had your lip stains on it.

without another word, you’re following dick out the door and down the sidewalk. but, he’s quick to turn a corner down an alleyway that’s eerily dark and empty.

"i’m not-" you start knowingly when his form is pushing you against the rough brick wall. his lips attached to your neck without another thought.

"please, fucking dammit, just listen," he pulls his wet lips off your skin to say, his voice rough until he’s looking at your widened eyes. "i’m fucking you here, you already made me wait enough. was gonna make that pussy mine in the bathroom of wherever the fuck, but you didn’t wanna," his words fall as sweet as honey despite that vulgar tone to it. despite the way his hand falls against your throat, pushing more and more with every words he says.

"i’m fucking you here whether you like it or not, yeah baby?" he leans into your ear, "gonna have you walking home with cum dripping out your pretty pussy. lick it all up when we get home," dick breathes out a laugh, both hands moving under your thighs to press you up against the wall.

he’s glad you decided on a dress tonight, because he didn’t feel like ripping fabric off of your skin at the moment.

and you’re glad that your boyfriend is a vigilante that knows every alley and every dimly lit street in gotham. while you had no idea where you were, you knew that dick had the awareness of his surroundings… and if he didn’t, he was still a vigilante.

one hand remains under your thighs while the other goes down to his pants, taking the button off and ripping his zipper down. his movements are quick, but you don’t have the capacity to think about why dick is this fucking horny.

while dick’s usually great with before care, despite how many times the two of you have fucked and made love, you’re biting into his neck in attempt to conceal the scream leaving your throat as his full length thrusts into you in one go.

it would’ve helped if dick had told you he’d dealt with ivy tonight, telling you more than what the news had. would’ve helped to know that the pollen in which she extinguished through vines and flowers had gone straight to dick’s bloodstream. straight to his cock, the only thing he was capable of thinking with as he found you where the two of you were supposed to meet.

but, dick hadn’t of even had the occurrence. only knowing that he wanted to stuff your pussy full, and blamed it on his own sexual frustrations of not getting enough of you the past week.

"fucking-slow, dick," you say loudly, but the man who was pulling out only to slam back in couldn’t give a fuck. couldn’t care if you screamed, because nobody was coming down here, and his movements were allowing him some sense of relief.

shouldn’t you be grateful that you’re stuffed with cock? the one that’s molded your cunt perfectly to the size of it?

the pain begins to subside, and instead an overwhelming pleasure that you’re usually eased into, comes rushing all at once. your body burning despite the autumn breeze that swept through the air, the sweater that adorned your arms falling to the ground. it doesn’t matter, dick’ll buy you another.

the groans that escape your throat start turning into moans, and you can feel the cocky smirk that your boyfriend pulls against your skin. "oh, now you want it, huh? now you wanna be all pretty-fuck- on my cock?"

his words are deep as he growls them out, nothing in comparison to the pretty moans and whimpers you attempt to conceal. but dick is shameless, fucking you without a care in the world that there’s passerby’s on the street that are definitely looking in the alleyway you both are.

your face turns red as you realize the fact. realize that, if there was an actual light in your vicinity, paparazzi would have a field day, and your naked pussy would be all over the gotham times the very next day! instead, the silhouette of two connected bodies and a symphony of nasty sounds is the only thing that everyone else gets a peak at.

it turns dick on that much more, watching the way your eyes widen when you look at everyone else.

"what, don’t want everyone knowin’ how much of a slut you are?" dick questions, fucking you enough to put you in a daze. fucking you enough that, you can’t make out quite exactly what he’s saying, but when you hear the name he’s called you, you’re clenching around his length. "fuckin’ whore," he starts, "felt that pretty pussy squeezing me… c’mon, ya better cum all around this cock."

it’s sinister, the darkness in his eyes, the black hairs that are sticking to his forehead, the beads of sweat that are falling from the tip of his nose onto your flushed skin. "’m close, fuck, ‘m really close. please, wanna cum," a chant leaves your lips, and dick’s hands squeeze the flesh underneath your thighs.

his own flexing at an alarming rate. you’re not quite sure how his stamina is working hand in hand with his movements, but, he works harder to fill you with his milky cum, surprised he hasn’t finished yet.

but, maybe he has without realizing it. wanting to stuff you ‘till he’s dripping out of you for the nth time.

"that’s right, keep squeezing me, baby," dick groans, lips finding the skin where your neck meets your shoulder. sucking and biting on the skin that he’s positive is red and puffy by now. a pretty bruise taking the place of his teeth by the morning.

as the word leaves dick’s lips, you’re squeezing enough to have cum filling you, the mixture of yours and dick’s dripping down your thighs and making a ring at the base of the member which just abused you.

but, dick stops thrusting while leaving himself inside of you, allowing you to catch your breathe before he breaks away and is the reason you’re feeling empty.

you whimper once’s he is pulling out, one hand allowing you to find the ground gracefully, while the other moves between your legs, tapping the swollen entrance that’s slicked and filled with a mixture of him and yourself.

"better hold it all in," dick warns, because that was simply round one of the night. that was simply the start to the long evening that—the thought of—was already making the man painfully hard when taking your hand on the walk home.

☆

you swore you didn’t see a single camera flash! swore that you didn’t see anybody recognize either of your faces! but when you’re collecting the mail the very next day, your stomach drops as you read the headline.

‘playboy dick grayson goes all out in public with his housewife!’

🏷️: @petriquors @harleycao @idyllcy @aviixol

happy kinky season u freaks

#i do not feel super confident ab this IDK WHY SIGH #kinktober 2023 #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #nightwing x y/n #nightwing x reader

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blueparadis · 1 year ago

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╰┈➤ DOPAMINE ✦ YUTA OKKUTSU.

⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢ At midnight, when your long-distance boyfriend decides to surprise you things take a wild turn when Yuta notices that you are on your heat cycle.

⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣ a/b/o au, alpha!yuta,omega!reader, established relationship, mention of heat cycles & rut, lactation k!nk. | blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. |

Almost an hour ago the doorbell rang and as you opened the door, Yuta was standing at your doorstep. At first, you could not believe your senses because it had been almost a year since he moved to another city for his work. As an independent and responsible girlfriend you let him go, without suspecting anything or letting those suspensions cloud your judgment. He has kept in touch with you, through and through, but somewhere in your mind you could not let all those suspensions go away. Maybe because you have faced grave bumps in your previous relationships. When he greeted you with a small peck on the cheek it was more than you could ask for; he even joked about how he will never forget your surprised face as if you have seen the ghost of him. But his surprise visit was not the reason for your shock.

But now he is here. You sit by the edge of the bed watching Yuta as he stands in front of the mirror in the bathroom, washing his face, and cleaning his mouth. The geyser is on and knowing him he will definitely demand your presence to share the bath. The bathtub is probably half-filled with cold water. The tap water is running and you have not stopped jerking your legs for several minutes.

“So?” Yuta starts. “What’s up? What’s got you so worked up? He finally asks but you are hesitant to speak. You do not know how much he has changed in this one year, both physically and emotionally. He seems like a totally different person now that you see him in person instead of video calls and photos. You know there is no use in hiding it anymore. It will create more problems.

“I’ve been skipping my pills.” You exclaim in one breath with your eyes closed.

“What?” His jaw drops. He leaves the bathroom, closes the tap and sits on the carpet of the floor.

“Yeah. My doctor said it would be better if I don’t take the suppressants while my alpha is away. And, since you were gone— you take a quick look of him through the corner of your eyes before continuing— “and my heat cycles have been manageable.”

Yuta takes the seat beside you. The moment he tries to hold your hand you snatch it away from him. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“I’ll leave. Then— you can see your doctor or maybe take the suppressants till I move out.” Yuta understands. There is a theory that he has been recently aware of- that an omega can go under lactation phase if their alpha enters the ruts at the same time they enter heat cycle. Honestly, he would love to fuck you witless in this bed where he made countless memories with you but he doubts you will have any stock for protection. He thought on his way home, he would buy some but excitement got the better of him. It slipped his mind, naturally.

“No… that’s not it.” You tear up, hiding your face in your palms. The thing is an alpha’s rut can get triggered by an omega’s heat cycle and during this time, the said omega is expected to lactate. The doctor has warned you about this since you already had an alpha by your side but you did not think Yuta would come back to you through a loophole. He has been gone for his studies, and somewhere in your heart you thought he would be gone forever but here he is, sitting beside you. He is there for you.

“Ya’know i’ve missed you.” Yuta says getting closer trying to hold your hand. This time you let him. He has been away the same time you have been away from him. A one whole year. He has missed making love to you, fucking you everywhere except bed, sharing his ruts with you, fucking you while you were in your heat cycles.

“I missed you too,” you revert back and he rolls you along the bed hovering on top of you. He jerks his head sideways. Maybe it is the commence of your heat cycle that is affecting him.

“woah that was uncalled for— are you okay babe?” he asks so gently, so softly that it fuzzes up all your senses.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” you say folding one of your legs and kneeing his crotch. He is just wearing a bathrobe, feeling his dick would not be much of a hassle. Yuta’s eyes follow your legs. His face lights up with a smile.

“eager, aren't we?” He whispers before latching his mouth on to the crook of your neck. His knee nudges your entrance as he starts to kiss all over your neck, collar bones and shoulders. There is a warm sensation pooling in between your legs.

“ohhh— yuta,” you moan and his lips find their way to yours. You do not hesitate to push your tongue in his mouth, wet moans filling the room along with his pheromones. You feel his cock nudging you. It makes you edgy. You can not do this right now. You should not, no matter how much you have missed him. You flattened your hands over his chest to push him away but he misunderstands it as an act of advancement on him and ends up making you sit on his lap.

“Don’t worry. I can control myself” he pulls up your top discarding it somewhere on the floor. “But there are certain things that I have been wanting to try— his mouth latches on your nipple right after making you arch. He is not using his teeth just yet, but he is sucking so hard and so strong that you think he might just taste your milk.

Yuta has been like this since the day both of you took the next step for this relationship. He keeps his mouth busy whenever he makes love to you, by sucking your nipples, eating you out, biting your ears or just simply kissing while pumping his cum inside you. But this time, he can not fuck you. He would love to breed you during his rut but he knows, neither of you are ready to be a parent. There is a whole life ahead for that.

“Yuta, please. Not so hard.” you plead because the accumulation of heat in between your legs is getting unbearable. His hands are clamped on your waist as he switches onto your other nipple. You gasp watching a little drop of white milk oozing out of your boob. It turns you on more than ever.

“Yuutaa— you call out his name as his teeth come into play. But he does not pay any heed to it. He continues to suck, his hands moving to your back and he pulls you closer to his body. Now his cock perfectly touches your folds and with one more push he could feel you around his cock. Unable to take his hard sucks anymore you pull his face away and distract him for a while.

Yuta’s mouth tastes different. You have kissed countless times and never before you smelled or tasted something sweet on his lips. You think maybe it will reduce the breast pain you keep having during your heat cycles. One if his hands cups your entrance, running a finger through your folds.

“You are so fucking wet baby.” Yuta rasps pushing his fingers inside you watching you bite your lip, eyes close and eyebrows pinching as he starts to finger you. “Do you know how hard it is for me to hold back?” he whispers in between his rough pants and your irregular breaths.

You start to arch, toes curl as Yuta gently lays you on the bed. His cock stands tall and proud by his stomach. You can feel it, hot and hard against your thighs. One of his hands is underneath your waist and the other picks up the face eliciting squelching noises accompanied by loud moans from you.

Your breasts look so big and so full with milk. He watches white liquid oozing out again and picks up his face. Seeing you close to your orgasm he speeds up the process by starting to suck your breasts again. You throw your arms around his back, nape and kiss him by the crook of his neck, holding his hair at the back. Your mouth hangs open, fangs start to grow and you sink them on his neck the moment he makes you cum by sucking some milk out of your boobs.

Yuta rolls over your side. Both of you regaining your breaths. He asks, “Are you satisfied?” to which you smile and respond,

“you think?” He chuckles at that. Both of you smiled but deep down you knew what kind of pit you were going to fall into.

—

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hsjazebel · 9 months ago

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Desperate part 1*

Word count: 2387

A/n: This is the first part of a series. It’s the first time I’ve written in a long time so I hope you like it! Also I would like to thank @gurugirl for her help which was very important to me!💘

Content Warning: this is a dbf story so if you don’t like these kind of things please just don’t read it! 18+, age gap (15 years), female masturbation - that’s all for this part.

main masterlist | desperate masterlist

You never had so-called daddy issues as you always had a good relationship with your father, but there was something about that man with green eyes that made you feel desperate.

Your father had a large group of friends and they often organized parties and lunches or dinners together, but you never liked these things because there was no one of your age since everyone had younger children and the same age as your sister (so she often abandoned you to be with her friends) and because of this, you found everything very boring.

That is until a new figure appeared in the middle of a barbecue in your backyard: a handsome, curly-haired man with green eyes that seemed to peer into your soul.

You were sure you had never seen this man before because if you had you would definitely remember him given how amazingly handsome he was.

You were peacefully sunbathing on a lounger by the pool while continuing to watch videos on TikTok until your father arrived to interrupt your peace. “Y/n, I wanted to introduce you to someone! Harry. He arrived yesterday from London and as soon as I told him I was having a barbecue at home he wasted no time and arrived. Harry, this is my daughter Y/n!”

As soon as you lay eyes on Harry, your jaw nearly drops. You stand up and offer your hand to the man. “Nice to meet you, Harry.

“The pleasure is all mine. I’m surprised James has a daughter your age.”

You laugh at his joke; it was true many of your parents' friends were surprised when you said you were 23, given that both your parents were not yet 50.

Your hand is still in contact with Harry's and you honestly don't want to take it away, his hand was so big compared to yours and it was so soft and smooth. And then his beautiful voice with his English accent… oh god! You had always had a weakness for the English accent and hearing it on Harry you could say that you would imagine entering heaven like this.

“Let's say that Alice and I didn't wait long to get married and start a family, and she's not that big, she's still my little princess.” Your father's voice brings you back to reality and you feel Harry's hand slip away from yours. “Darling, Harry and I are going back to the others, I'll call you when lunch is ready!” And with that, he kisses you on the head and leaves with Harry not before the man with green eyes says goodbye to you.

After eating you decide to go back into the house to lie down for a while; staying in the sun all day had made you tired and in any case after lunch you always had the habit of taking a nap and the fact that your parents are having a party outside in your garden certainly won't stop you.

You get into the shower to get rid of the chlorine from the pool and also to cool off from all the heat today and finally get into your bed.

There's just one problem: after spending twenty long minutes tossing and turning in bed, you can't sleep, so you decide to do what you always do when you can't sleep: use your fingers to pleasure yourself. You slide your shorts down along with your panties and open your legs. You go straight to your clit because you know it's the fastest way to bring you to release and you start twisting your fingers quickly bringing dirty thoughts to your mind. But the only thing that appears in your head is the penetrating gaze of the English man you met not many hours ago and who is in your garden right now. You start to think about how good his hands would feel on you and how deep his voice would be as he whispers dirty things in your ear. Or how good his tongue would feel on your pussy and how quickly it would bring you to orgasm – because you could swear that man would know how to make a woman feel good. And so within a few minutes, you feel that feeling in your lower belly and you reach your orgasm with Harry in your mind.

You immediately feel tired all over your body and fall asleep soon after.

You didn't think you were that tired, but you were wrong because you woke up and the first thing you see when you open your eyes is your dog, Chery, lying on your legs - which you didn't even know how he got into your room seeing as the door was closed - and the alarm clock on your bedside table read 5:32 pm. You get out of bed and go to wash your face to try to remove some traces of sleep. Soon after you dress in a white top and a pair of shorts, pick up your dog, and go down to the living room.

As soon as you enter you notice from the glass doors overlooking the garden that all the guests have now left, but the thing that immediately catches your eye is Harry sitting on the sofa with your dad watching a football match. “Good morning sleeping beauty!” Your dad greets you.

“Mmh good morning,” you greet, putting your dog down and she jumps directly onto the sofa, placing himself next to Harry.

“There will be 5 of us this evening, Harry is also staying for dinner.”

“Yes, your father and I have a lot of time to catch up on,” Harry tells you with his beautiful smile that makes those pretty dimples of his appear that you want to touch with your index; and then those hands with which he is caressing Chery with… oh lord! Those same hands you fantasized about a few hours ago, with his long fingers and - ok maybe you shouldn't have thought so much about your father's friend like that but it wasn't your fault if he looked like a Greek god.

It's your father's voice that brings you back to reality, “I was thinking you could make your own special pasta, that dish is really delicious!”

“Oh, yes of course!”

Harry looks at you smiling and says, “I love pasta! I can't wait to taste it."

The dinner goes very well, you hear some anecdotes about your father's life as a teenager and you also discover that he was the most wanted boy at university! “I swear I remember being in the cafeteria one day and I heard this group of girls talking about how sexy James was and I was like what?? Are we talking about the same person?” Harry laughs.

And your father being the touchy man he is replies, “You're just jealous because they were talking about me and not you! If maybe at 21 you hadn't had long hair you would have seen that girls would have talked about you too!"

“Hey don't talk like that about my long hair,” Harry says putting a hand on his heart pretending to be hurt by your father's words.

And the evening continues like this, with constant banter between Harry and your father even when dinner is over and they decide to go out on the patio to drink a glass of whiskey while your mother goes to bed and you and your sister retire to your room.

"So Harry isn't that bad right?" Your sister starts. “If he wasn't Dad's friend I would also tell you to flirt with him.” Your eyelids widen at this statement and she continues, “Oh come on don't make that face, I know you think he’s sexy as hell.”

Well, actually your sister wasn't entirely wrong. “I can't deny he's handsome but I would never hit on him! He's dad's friend, like you said, and he'll be twice my age!"

“Yeah y/n as you say, but I know he has already enchanted you with his green eyes and his English accent! Goodnight and try not to dream about it,” she winks at you and walks out of your room leaving you alone.

You quickly realized that sleeping so much in the afternoon wasn't a great idea because you obviously weren't sleepy now and so you turned on the television to watch a few episodes of Friends while putting on a face mask.

After 5 episodes the tiredness was finally making itself felt so you decide to go to sleep, but you realize that the bottle of water on your bedside table is empty, and since you already know that you will wake up at night to drink, you take the bottle and go down to the kitchen to fill it up and finally, you can go to sleep afterward.

But what you don't expect when you get to the kitchen is to see Harry sitting on the couch reading a book. You remain frozen in your place for a moment, partly out of fear because certainly at this time of night, you weren't expecting anyone up, and also because you weren't expecting to see him.

He gives you a sweet smile as soon as he sees you, “Oh hi y/n! Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

“No, don't worry, I just didn't expect to see you here." You say as you walk behind the kitchen island to fill the bottle.

“Oh yes since while your father and I were talking it got late he offered me to stay here for the night and I accepted,” he follows you with his gaze as he closes the book and places it on the table placed in front of the sofa. “Sorry again for scaring you, I didn't think I'd find anyone awake at this hour. By the way, why are you awake?”

You finish filling the bottle by taking a sip and then reply, “I realized my bottle was empty so I came down to fill it. And I could ask the same question to you, why aren't you sleeping?”

"I wasn't sleepy either and I remembered that when I entered the house I had seen a bookshelf and I decided to stay here and read a bit, trying to get myself to sleep."

You approach the sofa where he is sitting, "What book did you choose?”

He takes it from the table and shows you the cover, "Dostoevsky's White Nights, I love this book."

Your eyes widen in surprise, "Oh my god it's my favorite book too! In fact, for the record, that book is mine.”

“So sorry for borrowing it without telling you,” he laughs. “So you like Russian literature?”

“We can say that I love literature in general, especially the classics. In Russian literature I especially love Dostoevsky and Tolstoy," you reply, sitting on the sofa, even if a little far from where Harry is.

“I've never read anything by Tolstoy, maybe I could ask you for some advice.”

“I would be more than happy to help you!”

So you start talking about this and that. You discover that he has a degree in economics and management and has his own company in London. He met your father at the university where they were both doing a master's degree.

“And what can you tell me about yourself? Do you study or work?" At this point, you both had moved a little closer to each other.

“I actually do both. I have been studying fashion marketing in Milan for two years and in the meantime, I work for an Italian fashion magazine!” You've always liked talking about what you study because it's been a great passion of yours since you were little and you still can't believe that you're doing your dream job.

“So you live in Milan? I have been there many times and I love that city as I love all of Italy.”

“Yes, I live in Milan but I always come back here in the summer to be with my family. And I love Italy too, everyone is so hospitable and nice!”

"You can say it for sure! And why did you decide to study in Italy from California? If I may ask,” he asks curiously.

“In reality, I have always liked the world of fashion and when I finished school I was sure of what I wanted to do. Then talking to Mum and Dad I tried to convince them to let me study abroad but Dad didn't seem very convinced, then in the end Mum convinced him and I started looking for a good course of study. I wasn't sure from the beginning about going to Milan but then thinking about it, that is the cradle of fashion and so I made my decision!”

“Wow, I'm really impressed y/n! And can you also speak Italian?”

“Well, I had to learn it to live by it even though my pronunciation isn't that perfect.”

“I also learned Italian during my business trips. It's a frequent destination and I've made a few friends who have taught me something!”

You end up talking about your experiences in Italy until you notice from the windows that the sky is starting to lighten, a sign that the sun will come out soon. Harry notices too and lets out a small laugh when you let out a yawn, covering your mouth with your hand, “Sorry, I think sleep is kicking in now,” you laugh too.

"Yes, you are right. I didn't realize how much time had passed. Maybe now it's time to go to sleep even if soon I think someone in your family will get up."

You nod in agreement with him, "Yes, you are right. I think it's time for bed!” You stand up and he does the same.

“Goodnight or rather buonanotte!” He tells you with the most beautiful smile you've ever seen.

“Buonanotte!” you reply and so you turn and walk towards the stairs to go back to your room, bringing to mind the words your sister had said to you hours before, “Try not to dream about him”. Maybe it will be a little difficult because when you finally get into your bed and close your eyes you see beautiful dimples and green eyes.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles blog #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic

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catghoststories · 1 month ago

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Frank, Eddie, and the Tell-Tale Heart

So, I know the main focus of this update was Poppy, which I was happy to see (though I'm not happy to see what happened to her). I do have a theory cooking about her, Sally, and the Commedia Dell'arte, but Frank n' Eddie are my favorite pair, and I've been stewing over this particular theory since the July '23 update. This tiny line from the Looky-Loo storybook is what cinched it for me.

Source: Merchandise Page, Looky-Loo Storybook

This line isn't read out loud, but we can see it at around the 9 minute in the video, above Eddie, looking so polite. It reads,

"Villains!" I shrieked, "I can deny it no longer! I admit the deed!—tear up my flower bed!—here, here!—it is the ticking of my beloved alarm clock!"

This isn't the actual line from The Tell-Tale Heart. The original line reads "Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed!—tear up the planks!—here, here!—it is the beating of his hideous heart!"

Source: The Tell-Tale Heart

The Tell-Tale Heart is about someone murdering their roommate, cutting him into pieces, and hiding the evidence under the floorboards of their house.

And I think this is what Frank is going to do to Eddie, in an attempt to protect him in a perverse, misguided way.

This rewritten lines seems very specific to Frank and Eddie. We know Frank loves his garden. And who's the only character in the Neighborhood who owns a clock? Eddie.

At the end of the Homewarming video, Frank sees how distressed Eddie is. As many have theorized, Frank seems to be somewhat aware of what's happening, although we don't know to what extent. But he sees that Eddie is now in the line of fire of The Powers That Be, and he becomes worried for him.

I think Frank will dismantle Eddie and hide him in his garden until he deems it 'safe' for Eddie to come back, once the 'eyes' are off him. (Kind of reminds me of the Eye of Sauron from Lord of the Rings). An unintentional—or perhaps intentional—side effect of being dismantled and put back together, with new parts, is that Eddie doesn't remember things well.

Including, possibly, his and Frank's relationship.

This goes along with the theme we've seen several times in WH now, including this new Halloween update. The puppets unintentionally—yet seriously—harm their loved ones in order to protect them from something they deem far worse—whatever that may be.

As these posts by kykudos, oniongrass, and nikkiiiscute discuss, there is an image from one of the hidden bug clips of Frank's garden with 9 clothespins—one buried in the dirt.

Source: Welcome Home Hidden Audio ('til it's back on the official site :3)

And there's the references to burial in Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight, too. This post by the-nosy-neighbor goes quite a lot into this song very well, especially how it might indicate Frank could put Eddie into a suspended state!

Source: Transcript Page, Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight

Now I have been thinking about this dismantling/reassembling thing for a long time, especially since the last Halloween update. Eddie is one of the puppets with a new costume, and he is Frank(enstein)'s monster. And he has a big yellow band-aid on the back—Frank's color. If Eddie is taken apart, Frank will patch him up again.

Source: Clown's Tumblr

(Also, I'm curious about the blue hand and face in Eddie's costume design. That's Barnaby's color. Does Frank use Barnaby's spare parts to put Eddie back together?! 😳 Especially since I feel like Barnaby's time on Mister Bone's Wild Ride is fast approaching—but that's yet another post 😅)

But based on the Tell-Tale Heart line, Frank may have been the one to do the dismantling in the first place, which is quite dark. Based on the below picture from the former staff member page—clearer image here from Clown's Tumblr—Frank may be aware they're puppets and made up of various parts.

Source: Welcome Home Wiki until it's back on the official site :3

There is also an intense piece on Clown's Ko-Fi here (please support Clown if you can!) that shows butterflies doing SOMETHING to Eddie. Are they putting him together? Or taking him apart to join them in their hibernation? 🤔

Frank also likes gelatin. As he tells Poppy in their hidden audio, 'it holds perfectly sliced fruit beautifully'. Perfectly sliced, cut up fruit, eh? Gelatin is a preservative that we also see in the cookbook recipe, and we all know Eddie has an unholy encounter with his single pea. So yet another symbol of suspended animation that is related to Frank and Eddie.

Source: Merchandise Page, Cookbook

So it seems like Frank has some experience in preservation, hibernation, etc. and knows how to use it, if it comes to it.

The next big update will likely be spring-themed. A long time ago, Clown posted that Frank has a holiday in spring. Of course this isn't canon until it's on the website, but either way, I think Frank will have an important role in the spring update, which I believe will also focus on Julie. We may see him wake up Julie from hibernation...and Eddie from his dirt nap.

Source: Clown's Tumblr

(I've been so curious about that shadow behind the flower. At first I thought 'OMG, it's Eddie's hand!', but I don't think so. 😅 I dunno what it is, but it doesn't quite seem flower like to me...🤔)

This Ko-Fi post (again, please support Clown if you have the means!) was posted around Easter this year and had a bunny/Easter theme. Clown says "What is there to say though... Well! We know what the next holiday is in our Home Sweet Home, I'd say." A huge theme of Easter/Spring are Rebirth and Resurrection.

As this post by serene-hatterene so beautifully details, Frank may feel pressured to kiss Julie to wake her up to prove his heteronormativity. Maybe to further protect Eddie, too, to prove they aren't a thing. Seems like Julie's family may show up this update, too, and we know family can cause a lot of pressure for couples during holidays. 😬

My last item isn't that strong, but I have been thinking of since the July '23 update. In Eddie's Big Lift, Frank says the following line:

Source: Transcript Page, Eddie's Big Lift

The tense of "You always did work too hard" always bothered me. Why doesn't Frank just say, "You always work too hard!" And Eddie doesn't seem to know what he's talking about. Frank sounds almost wistful here. It's like he's talking about his ex—a former version of Eddie, pre-dismantling, perhaps?

(Also, 'Enjoy the ground, Mr. Dear'? Dude, if this theory is right, that line is even more screwed up than it already was. 😳)

Here is my order of how I feel these events actually happened:

Secret Bug Audios (Eddie and Frank flirting) -> 1st Halloween Audio (Eddie still seems like his chipper, knowledgeable self) -> Homewarming -> Springtime (and Eddie's Resurrection)? -> Eddie's Big Lift

Not quite sure where this last Halloween update lands, but I feel like it's later. Eddie seems ignorant of the potential adverse effects The Brickening (TM) could have on Poppy. I feel like he's been more sensitive to Poppy and others in the past (but maybe I'm wrong, I'm biased towards him, heh). Perhaps after his Reconstruction, his memory has now been reset, and he has "fallen into line" with the other Neighbors and their weird, pile-onto-one-person ways.

Anyway, what do you all think? 😬😬 I do hope I'm wrong, since Frank is my favorite, and this would make me feel very differently about him. 😬😬😬 Please tell me your own WH theories, too! I find them so interesting!

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sunlightmurdock · 2 months ago

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Ashes, Ashes | Two | Bradley Bradshaw

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Synopsis: In which Maverick didn’t make it home after the Uranium mission. He’s missing, presumed dead. There are things that have to be done — someone has to take care of the house, the bills.

So, Maverick’s daughter is back in Fightertown for the first time since she was in elementary school. There’s a gaping hole in both of their lives now, and somehow, the world’s supposed to just keep on turning without him.

warnings: bradley bradshaw x minimally descriptive oc avery mitchell. age gap (23/33), smut, angst, hurt / comfort, mentions of character death, mourning, military inaccuracies. This entire fic and my blog is an 18+ space, minors do not interact. Do not repost.

…

Bradley rents a bungalow about twenty minutes from base, towards the south of the San Diego bay. He explains, on the drive there, while she is hugging an overnight bag of her things, that he’s been renting it from this sweet old lady for the past four years — but he’s only been living in it for about three quarters of that time, with deployments.

He talks a lot. Shooting halfway amused looks across at him every now and again as he talks over his music, explaining his entire rental history, Avery just lets him go on and on.

Maybe he’s worried that the silence will give her room to start tearing up again, but she knows that won’t happen — it was already a rare occurrence, just the once.

She lets him talk. He doesn’t seem to mind how much attention she’s paying either. Anything other than silence is fine, even if he’s the only one filling it.

The respite comes when he parks in the driveway, hops out, and proudly displays the home to her. It’s white all over and covered in plants, all up the driveway and over the porch. There’s a surfboard sitting on the porch, waxed up and looking ready to go.

Inside is masculine and simple, and spotless. It looks more lived in than Maverick’s place, but in an exceptionally organised way.

Just past the front door, he has an organised entryway with a closet and one of those shoe racks that looks like an end table.

Beyond that, his living area is all open plan. His kitchen is to the left right as you walk in, and the living room is the clear focus. He’s got a big grey sectional pointed at a big tv with a stack of video games beside it.

He doesn’t ask her to take her shoes off by the door, but she copies politely when he kicks his off.

That leaves her, blue and white tube socks, toeing against the chewed up corner of the area rug while he busies himself with fixing the few things he deems to be out of place.

Itching to keep moving, she prods at the fabric, examining the teeth marks, wondering where the dog must be.

“Oh— that was my ex-girlfriend’s dog. I’ve been meaning to buy a new rug.” He explains, furrowing his brows at the spot as he tosses a throw pillow down onto his soft looking grey couch. “Um — so, I do have a guest room, but it’s kind of a gym right now. You can just make yourself at home, and I’ll go get everything out of your way.”

“I can take the couch.”

“No, no, you deserve some privacy at least. I’ll just be a sec — I have sodas and beers in the fridge, glasses are in the cabinet to the right. Help yourself.” He’s a good host, and a better one than she had been yesterday, considering that Maverick’s place is now technically her own.

As he heads for the long, stretching hallway, she shoots a look back down at the mauled rug. With how spotless the rest of this place is, he must have really liked that girl to let her bring her dog here, and to let it chew up his stuff.

She wonders, aimlessly, if he was mad about it. If they argued. If they broke up long ago.

Avery hasn’t had too many relationships of her own. Some mediocre sex and a couple of couch-based movie dates here and there, nothing to write home about.

She sits cautiously, sinking into the pillowy cushion of the couch, taking the time finally to really look around her. The space is bright, with big windows all around and a view of the bay. There’s a sun catcher dancing from the curtain rod, casting rainbows across his wooden floors.

Maybe his ex had bought that, too.

The bungalow is small, but it fits all of his belongings with an abundance of space left. Avery thinks back to her father’s place, always cluttered and spilling over with junk, treasure from his years of travels.

Maybe Bradley is a little bit less sentimental about keeping things.

He rattles around in the room at the end of the hall for a while, huffing occasionally. While waiting on the couch, she considers getting up and offering to help a few times, but ultimately convinces herself against it.

“Alright! Fresh sheets and some space to move, there’s still a bunch of stuff in there but I tried to get it out of your way.” He comes strolling back down the hallway and drops down onto the couch at her side, letting out a heavy sigh.

She screws her mouth up a little, looking across at him while he rests his eyes, long, dark eyelashes brushing his warm cheeks. His long legs, covered by worn denim, stretch out far enough that he has to bend them around his coffee table.

When one hand comes up to card through his mussed curls, she catches sight of the tattoo inked across the expanse of his bicep. LXXXVI. ‘86. She starts to think on it, letting him enjoy his moment of peace, when he shifts and startles her enough to drag her eyes away from his flexing arm.

“Thanks, for everything,” Avery manages to still sound a little cautious in her tone, even when she’s rushing to speak. “Staying last night, driving me around today, letting me stay with you. I really appreciate it.”

He smiles without opening his eyes, reaching out and letting his hand pat skim across the seam of her jeans, patting at her knee platonically.

“Any time.” He breezes, cool.

The first night is uneventful. Avery sleeps restlessly on the futon in Bradley’s spare bedroom, turned home gym.

She pretends that she doesn’t see the numbers on the sides of the weights, and pretends also that she doesn’t give a little bit of her imagination to the way that tattoo must move when he lifts them.

When she wakes up, Bradley is gone and there is a note on the kitchen counter explaining that he went for a run. He was gone for two hours, trying to run far enough that the sick, hot, thudding feeling in his chest would stop.

Back at the house, Natasha stops by and spends the afternoon. She lets herself into the place with her key, which sits on her own keychain like she’s had it for a while. Watching a sitcom from the armchair while they sit beside each other on the couch, Avery notices that the two of them are very close.

She wonders if Natasha happens to have a dog.

Sleep doesn’t come any easier for either one of them the second night. When he finally catches sight of the red, flashing declaration on his alarm clock that it is now 2:01am, Bradley gives up.

He tries to be quiet as he’s getting up, careful not to wake Avery. They’re in much closer quarters in his place than they had been back at Maverick’s house, her door is right opposite his across the narrow hallway.

He pads down the hallway, rubbing at his eyes, tossing up whether he’s going to try to drink something warm and go back to bed, or if he’s just going to stay up. He can’t keep not sleeping.

He almost heads straight for the kitchen, freezing in his tracks as he finally takes note of the blue light coming from his living room, and the sound of women’s voices. It takes him a second, even though he’d been being so considerate on her behalf, to remember that he has a guest over.

“Ave?” He mumbles.

The TV immediately falls silent. She winces from her spot on the couch, craning her neck to try to see him at the edge of the hallway.

“Just me. I’m sorry! Did I wake you?” She sounds worried. He’s still half asleep.

He shakes his head as he steps out from the shadows and heads for his kitchen. “No, I just wasn’t expecting you to be up. I couldn’t sleep.”

He passes by pretty quickly, concealed behind the kitchen island in just a few steps. Still, she saw him. Illuminated only by the light of the television, wearing a tight pair of black boxer briefs and dog tags around a silver chain. Long, muscled legs and tapered hips.

Sure, he was good looking before, and clearly fit — but she wasn’t expecting what had been under those slightly loose t-shirts.

Her mouth is dry as she mumbles out a soft, “Me either.”

“D’you want a tea?” He stands with her back to her now, reaching around in the darkness of his kitchen. She stares, unblinking, at his back.

“You drink tea?”

“Sometimes,” He cranes his neck to look at her over his shoulder. “That’s not weird.”

Her lips almost quirk, and she gives him a confirming shake of her head. “I didn’t say it was. Do you have green tea?”

He scoffs without looking. “Of course I have green tea.”

This whole lack of sleep thing isn’t new to him. It comes with the grief, but it’s there even when he feels like he isn’t grieving anymore. Since he was a kid, Bradley has had thoughts that keep him up at night, thoughts bad enough to stir him from peaceful, pleasant dreams.

He’s tried every tea in the catalog.

He carries the two mugs across the living room without once noticing the way he’s been stared at. He sets hers down on a cute little wicker coaster on his coffee table, walking past and dropping down onto the corner of the sectional.

His legs stretch out and he shifts and twists until he finds himself comfortable. “What’s this?”

She sets her gaze steadily on the television, her hands in her lap, wondering if he’s this brash with all of his house guests. With a swallow, she shrugs her shoulders. “Oh, it’s just this TV show about a columnist in New York in the nine—“

“Are you explaining Sex and the City to me?” Bradley sounds bewildered, his face stark as he stares at her across the couch. Avery’s lips tug at a smile, and she almost forget the nerves she’d been feeling.

Until, the light from the television catches on the silver of his dogtags. Her gaze drops, like a flicker, to his bare, toned chest — and she swiftly looks back to the television.

“You’ve seen it?” She asks softly.

He’s beyond good looking. He’d always been okay looking, he’d had a nice smile in all of those pictures she had seen. But now, the roundness of his cheeks is gone and he has grown into his nose, his lips are a shade of pink that would be a bestseller in cosmetics.

Avery curses herself; she had been pretty successfully pretending not to notice that he had gotten good looking. Then, he comes strolling down that hallway and making her tea from his apparently extensive collection, having the nerve to sprawl across his own couch looking like that.

Across from a girl who hasn’t seen any action in the better part of a year too.

She almost scowls.

“Every episode,” He answers gleefully. At first, she thinks of Natasha or that mysterious girlfriend with the badly behaved dog. Then, he adds, “This was my mom’s favourite TV show, ever.”

And suddenly, she feels a little guilty for acting like those muscles make him some kind of ladies’ man. Just because the rest of them have been, she guesses.

Bradley seems like a nice guy. He slept in a bed clearly meant for a child all night last night, and he let her take the first shower this morning, he chased her across the parking lot and offered to fix all of her problems in one fell swoop.

Maybe that’s because of some kind of debt he thinks he owes to Pete, and maybe it’s just because that’s the kind of man he is.

She glances across, watching him chuckle at a classic Samantha one-liner and take a sip of a raspberry herbal tea. Wrinkling her nose, she settles back down into the spot she had been relaxing in, and lets herself zone out again.

They watch a couple of episodes. Unlike earlier, Bradley doesn’t feel the need to talk. He likes the quiet, mixed with their frequent chuckles. It’s an okay thing, to not have to fill that silent void.

Avery is the first to excuse herself to go back to bed, and she hasn’t once mentioned his little Calvin Kleins or the way they make his thighs look.

As she walks away, Bradley catches himself. He hadn’t much thought about what she might wear to bed, or what she’d been wearing when he first sat down with her. Her hips wiggle in her stride, her fitted pyjama shorts hugging her ass as she heads for the guest room.

The material of her loose t-shirt is tucked in at the back. Those cotton shorts hug her hips and show off just the tiniest glimpse of her round ass, from where they have ridden up a little.

He looks away before she’s even out of view, but it doesn’t change what he had been thinking. She’s Pete’s kid, for gods’ sakes. Not much of a kid anymore, but still, it wouldn’t be right.

Man, Maverick would hate it, too.

Bradley wishes, silently, that he was here to scold him. Pete would square his shoulders and get that rare and serious look on his face, warning Bradley to keep his hands to himself. And Bradley would smile and taunt him, saying, “Don’t worry, Mav, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

With her dad gone, it just makes it worse.

These next few weeks are going to be hard, and the least he could do is think with his head to keep things simple between the two of them. He heads back to bed late enough for it to almost not be worth it.

He wakes to the sound of chaos over the comms, that same last conversation, those snowy peaks behind his eyelids.

Mouth dry, heart thudding, his eyes are still shut when he stumbles out into the hall and twists the bathroom door handle. It jams, and he remembers. The sounds of water coming from behind the door stops abruptly.

Peeking her head around the shower curtain, already wincing, Avery calls back out to him. “Sorry! I’ll just be a second!”

“No — sorry, take as long as you want.” He calls back, shaking his head and heading for the kitchen. Restless and anxious, he splashes cold water across his face and thinks about Pete.

He saw Mav do this insurmountable times. He remembers all of the mornings that Mav would wake up gasping, shaking, and he would head straight for the bathroom, bolting the door. He’d come back out okay again. He wonders if Mav still did it, even all these years later.

If he still heard Goose’s voice through the comms, calling him out of his dreams.

The thought makes him shudder. The bathroom door unlocking makes him flinch, looking up sharply.

Avery steps out of the bathroom, her hair still dry and tied back, droplets of water still beading along the skin and flowing under the plush blue towel she had taken from the linen closet. He had told her to help herself, but he’s staring at her now and she’s second guessing herself.

He stands at his kitchen sink, his hands braced against the countertop, his knuckles white. She barely even notices his little Calvin Kleins. Her brows knit together as she takes a step toward him, barely visible around the corner.

“Hey… are you okay?” Her face creases with concern, lingering in the hallway so that he can see her just enough.

He remembers to let go of the countertop.

“Yeah,” He breathes out, unconvincingly, reaching up and shaking a hand through his tangled curls. He takes a second, trying to gather his thoughts enough to keep the conversation moving. “Were you still thinking you’re gonna need a job while you’re here?”

She blinks, her scrunched up face relaxing as she takes another step closer, cocking her head at him.

“Um, yeah. I think so.”

He nods. “Get dressed. We’ll go see my friend in a bit, can see if it’s something you might be interested in. Maybe, then we’ll take your car to a mechanic this afternoon.”

Out of the house, he feels like he can breathe again. It’s just sleeping, that’s all. When he’s really awake, he can control it all a little better, it doesn’t get to him as much.

He drives the same way he had yesterday. Three fingers around the bottom of the wheel, seventies music playing. Today, the windows are down. Avery makes a pretty good passenger — she doesn’t ask him to change his music and she doesn’t put her head in the way when he’s trying to check his mirrors.

Mainly because she isn’t once watching the road, but that’s okay.

She looks around the city like she’s seeing it for the first time. Mav lived her for longer than she’s been alive — and the entire place seems foreign to her.

Bradley knows both of his parents’ hometowns like the back of his hand, and he still hasn’t ever lived in either one of them.

“Did your dad ever tell you about Penny?” He asks so calmly, drumming his fingers along the wheel, Ray-Ban caravans sitting across the bridge of his nose.

The look that Avery shoots him gives him more than enough of an answer. She sets her phone down in her lap and studies him, frowning slightly.

“Who’s Penny?”

Shit. Bradley shakes his head and his voice pitches up a fraction. “Oh, she and Mav were just good friends for a long time.”

A product of one of Maverick’s ‘good friendships’ herself, Avery doesn’t need Bradley to explain to her what that means. It makes her a little less excited to get to wherever he’s taking her.

With one quick glance across, he catches the little frown settling across her lips.

“She owns that bar on Breakers Beach. We drove past it yesterday when we saw Admiral Simpson?” Bradley prompts her, glancing across at the passenger seat. She nods along. “I texted her yesterday and she really wanted to meet you, said you can have some shifts there if you want them.”

Avery wrinkles her nose, trying not to frown across at him when he’s doing his best to just be helpful.

“What? — What’s that look?” He prompts, looking across at her with an amused smile toying at his lips.

“She’s like a long time ago ex, right? She wasn’t dating Pete recently?”

Bradley thinks on his answer for a moment. He isn’t surprised that she figured out there was something between Mav and Penny, he would have figured it out too.

But, he had heard of Mav’s experience with Penny Benjamin a long time before he had actually gotten to meet Penny Benjamin. Really, he’s surprised to find that Avery has never heard of her, she and Mav were really on and off for quite a while.

He guesses that Mav kept that kind of thing from her.

Which means that he would want Bradley to keep the fact that he had seen Mav and Penny leave the bar together three times in the weeks leading the mission to himself too.

“Yeah. Like a long time ago.” He confirms.

“Alright, okay — yeah, this’ll be good,” Avery sounds more like she’s giving herself a pep talk than like she’s replying to him. He shoots her a smile and a nod anyway. “Thanks, again, by the way. You’re cool for setting this all up.”

Cool. Not the kind of compliment he’s usually searching for from a pretty girl, but he’ll take it.

Reaching across the centre console, he gives her knee a quick squeeze. “Not so bad yourself, Mitchell.”

Briefly, his palm lingers there. It’s just because he’s focusing on turning into the parking lot, but it’s still his large palm hugging the curve of her knee for a minute longer than it should have.

Completely over the thick protection of her jeans, but she stares at the touch anyways. Then, she dares to look back up at him. Totally relaxed as he pulls into a spot up front like it’s his own personal one.

One more squeeze, and he takes his hand back and swings open the door. The parking lot is surprisingly busy for the middle of the week at noon.

Avery follows him out of the vehicle, gingerly matching his pace as he heads inside. It’s once he’s spotted that she falters.

“Rooster!” Someone even taller than he is comes marching up right away and throws his arms around Bradley. Bradley hugs him loosely, greeting him with an aloof but firm pat of the back.

“Payback.” He greets quietly.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you. How are you holding up?” His warm eyes bore into Bradley, his head bowed slightly and his voice sincere. He hasn’t spotted her yet.

“I’m alright,” Bradley sounds convincing enough, but this Payback guy hadn’t seen how rattled Bradley had looked this morning. “This is Avery.”

Finally, Payback’s gaze flickers to the girl standing behind Rooster. Halfway tucked behind his shoulder, staring at him through her lashes, looking totally lost and sheepish.

“Mav’s kid?”

In the short time Bradley has known her, he knows that’s not the kind of response she would have wanted to get.

Swinging his arm out and throwing the heavy limb around her shoulders, Payback watches Rooster drag the stunned girl out from behind him and present her at his side. “It’d pay you to learn your new bartender’s name, Fitch.”

He’s looking Avery right in the eye, and he already can see that Bradley’s going to have to be reminded that not everyone likes the heavy handed approach to affection he can have.

Still, he smiles at her like he means it and nods his head respectfully.

“Already got it, it’ll be good to have you around, Avery.”

A small smile works its way across her lips, grateful if not anything else.

“Nice to meet you.” She answers him quietly, stiff against Bradley’s side. He pats her back and urges her forwards.

“Here, this is Penny. Penny, meet your new bartender.”

Penny Benjamin is tall and striking, standing behind the bar with her eyes already on the new bartender. There’s a recognition and affection in the blue of her gaze that tells Avery she was lied to just a moment ago.

That’s a woman who cared deeply for Pete Mitchell.

It puts a bad taste in her mouth, a pit in her stomach, a sudden coldness about the possibility of this job. Even if just for a short time, for however long she’s here, she’s just going to be an extension of the man she had always felt so far from.

Penny cocks her head to the side, just a bit. Sure, she can see semblances of Pete in the girl across from her, but it’s the rigid, flighty look in her eyes that catches Penny’s attention.

Across from her is someone with something to prove, and a character they’ve been playing for a long time now. That’s what feels most familiar.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Avery says stiffly, trying to sound like she means it.

Penny nods, smiling. She glances towards Bradley, then back to the girl still tucked under his arm.

“You too. Let’s talk.”

As Jimmy takes over the bar duties, Bradley’s left with the prospect of facing his friends when Penny and Avery disappear toward the back deck.

He scratches at the back of his neck, shooting one last look at the two of them over his shoulder, and wondering what he’s supposed to say to all of those guys.

One by one, he could manage… but all in a group like that? — He hasn’t seen most of them since it happened.

It’s Natasha that he can trust to catch his eye first, giving him that kind of look cautious parents give their kids when coaching them on a bike. She worries a lot for someone who swears that she doesn’t care about the meatheads she hangs out with.

He heads for her as coolly as he can manage, hoping that the other guys know not to give him a hard time today. They don’t, they never would.

His therapist says it’s a defensive thing, the way he waits for people to say the wrong thing. When he’s hurt, he expects it, almost. He’s trying to get out of it.

They can all give him credit for that.

Even so, it doesn’t take long for conversation to fade from small talk to the newest, most exciting subject.

“So, she’s staying at your place?” Natasha’s the first one to bring up the missing party, picking up on a comment about the two of them arriving together.

Bradley shakes his head and fiddles with his root beer bottle. “No, she’ll be over at Mav’s place once we get her car fixed up. It’s a real piece of shit, I don’t even know what they’d do to make it run any better.”

“Mav loves cars — and he lets her drive a shitbox like that?” It’s Javy who scoffs that out, the only one still talking about the Captain who had taken a shine to him in present tense.

Bradley just shrugs. This isn’t the place to unpack whatever went down between Mav and Avery. He doesn’t know enough, even if he wanted to talk about it.

“She came all the way down here by herself?” Callie asks. She doesn’t say it, but she’s referring to the fact that her mother came all the way out to Lemoore to try to move her into the barracks like it was college when she was that age.

Bradley shrugs again. He hasn’t heard much about Avery’s mom in the past twenty years, he isn’t even sure that he ever met her — certainly wouldn’t be able to pick her out of a crowd. All he knows is the gossip he’d gotten from his mom when it was all going down.

“How’s she doing?” Bob asks, his blue eyes deep and sincere as he searches Bradley’s face, knowing better than to ask the same question.

“Okay, I think.” Bradley muses, thinking of how quickly Avery had questioned the recovery efforts yesterday. “I dunno how close they were, but it’s always gotta be hard. Just… trying to make it a little easier on her, I guess.”

They all nod, slowly.

And then Avery comes marching back inside, her chin high and her hair a little wind-swept, making a beeline right for the closest thing she’s got to a friend in this town.

“Hey.” Bradley offers her a smile, and reaches out for her. His hand grazes the back of her bicep, and she smiles more genuinely than she has in the past two days.

“Hi.”

He catches sight of himself being watched, and takes a look back over Avery’s shoulder to find Penny looking. Her blue eyes flicker down to his hand on Avery’s arm.

Pursing her lips, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, and Bradley’s mouth almost falls open. There’s no way she thinks that he’s hitting on Avery. He’s just being friendly.

Penny knows Bradley well enough to know that. He’s always been a very affectionate guy. Still, the look that she gives him is one that certainly, and silently, tells him to keep his hands to himself.

He blinks, and finds his friends looking back at him expectantly.

“So, you’re taking the job?” He checks, shaking off Penny’s watchful eyes and settling back into what he knows. Avery nods her head at him.

“Starting tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. That’s way soon. He’s going to have to make sure he doesn’t keep her up until four in the morning watching the misadventures of Carrie Bradshaw tonight.

“Well, guys, say hi to your new bartender.”

He brings the bottle of rootbeer back up to his lips and shoots a quick glance back over Avery’s shoulder. Penny stares back, unfazed, as he narrows his eyes back at her.

What does she know about anything, anyways?

…

#ashes ashes #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #Avery Mitchell #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw fic #ashes bradley #bradley x avery

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mattscoquette · 4 months ago

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my experience meeting the triplets/ going to their tour ౨ৎ ⋆.˚ ✧

first i just wanna say, i am so so so insanely grateful to have attended both tours and to have met them twice. i’m not trying to brag or anything but a lot of people ask me and i figured it be easier for me to make one post rather than answer inbox questions a million times that get lost.

2/5/23 - let’s trip tour

i met the triplets for the first time during the let’s trip tour. i vividly remember being at work when the tickets went on sale and i was gonna go w my coworker but things fell thru and i went alone, and that alr was nerve wrecking enough. but i met a lot of cool people on line and everyone was super friendly. i got the pre-show small talk package, so i got to meet them before i saw them on stage. i also wrote them letters (idk if they ever opened them) but it was honestly fate when i stopped to drop them off in the present bin because there was a group of three girls in front of me so i wasn’t super rushed when i was meeting each triplet.

i met chris first! i was soooooo nervous but the second i started talking it all went away. the first thing i noticed was how small they are irl and immediately after was how fucking good chris smelled 😭 he was soo sweet. i told him how i loved watching their videos w my mom and that she was his favorite. i can’t rlly remember what else i talked about him with, and i tried to screen record my camera but i didn’t turn the mic on so i lost all the audio 😭😭

next was matttttt the loml. i was immediately soo comfortable around him, i was literally just talking like a normal conversation without even thinking. i asked him how the tour was going and he told me he was sad it was ending soon. and then i told him how one of my best friends is a triplet and we talked about that, he told me his dad is a twin and that everyone thinks he nick and chris are identical but they aren’t. he was so sweet and really listen to what you have to say, i had such a nice time talking with him.

when i met nick my auto pilot like shut off and i froze 😭😭 i literally out loud was like “i am so nervous” and he was so sweet about it, he hugged me a second time and was like “no don’t be it’s okay!” lmfaoo. i didn’t get to talk to him as long but i remember him telling me it was super nice to meet me after.

on line for the red carpet, i met madi! she was just walking around the venue, and she was over by me and i asked for a photo. she was soo sweet (and so pretty irl omfg). i didn’t wait in line for the red carpet for very long, i got merch, and then i did my photo w them :,) tbh i honestly don’t lovee it because i rlly don’t look the best in it lolol. bur ill pull thru and show u all. but this was back when u got to pick ur own poses and we all did hearts with one another (idk if that makes sense) and i stood next to my mannn😛😛

i look so diff now like i actually hate how i look when i met them but that’s beside the point 😭😭 but they all looked sooooo good. also for reference im about 5’3-5’4ish.

show-wise, it was sm more fun than the versus tour tbh. i got to see yung pleit perform and he opened w miss me and everyone was going insaneeeee. i was literally like one person behind the baracade, i was so close it was so so so cool. the triplets went on for maybe twenty minutes but they read the question i asked them which was so cool. and mary lou, jimmy, justin, and nate were all at my show!! they were on the balcony above the stage and were waving to us it was so cute. i had such a fun time at this show i wish i could go back

10/9/23 - the versus tour

this show was soooooo so so so special to me. i was going through a really really hard time. and this show made me so happy and gave me such a nice break from everything. this show wasn’t as close as the first show so i went to with my mom (she was team orange lol). i also got to meet some old online friends i made which was so nice :,) like the last tour, i got pre-show small talk. my only complaint though is that when i bought tickets backstage wasn’t available, some friends and i called the venue and they told us there was no backstage , but there actually was :( but im still sooooo grateful i got to meet them!

the order was the same as last time- chris, matt, then nick. i was so nervous about meeting them again, i literally almost forgot to take a pic w chris LMFAO. he was so sweet, he asked me how i was doing, if i was excited, all that good stuff. this time was a lot more rushed than the first, but i still got a decent amount of time with each triplet. i also got them each to draw me my fav angel numbers to get tattooed, i still haven’t gotten it yet but when i do i’ll post it :)

i was sooo nervous to meet matt again lmfao but as soon as i went up to him i felt fine. i complemented his outfit (he had on his white eeyore jacket 😭😭 so cute) and we took our picture and when i was leaving he told me it was rlly nice to meet me :,)) he is sooooooo pretty irl like his eyes r so blue and his earrings r so sparkly i was literally like in a trance. omfg.

nick was soo sweet he gave me such a big hug and was so smiley and asked how i was doing, same as chris. he also rested his head on mine when we took our pic togetherrr. he was so so kind.

my show was a monday so they had uploaded a podcast while i was on line for the red carpet, so i listened to that a bit while waiting. this tour we had pre-picked poses, but i did the hearts again. i stood in between matt and chris, and i said i wanted hearts and matt immediately did half the heart and put his arm around me so we did the heart tgth 😭😭

lowk not a fan of this pic either but :( so sweet. i love them so much. i also wore platform shoes this time lol so that gave me some height.

the show was so good! so much more entertaining than what the triplets did the first time. it was very engaging, and so fun to watch. lowk bitter i didn’t get picked to be matt’s teammate but we move. anyway. each challenge was so fun, me and my friend knew almost all the trivia questions they did 😭😭 and jenga was sooo stressful to watch lmfao it was so close the whole time, i think we had one of the longest jenga shows of the tour lmfao. chris ended up winning bc matt dropped the jenga tower and they were both tied. it was such a fun experience im so grateful to have gone !

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo

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luminoustarlight · 1 year ago

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As Fate Would Have It | DILF!Anakin Skywalker

Anakin Skywalker gets a new assistant, who also happens to be his favorite OnlyFans performer.

◂ previous ▸ chapter two

rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 3.7k | read on ao3

warnings: modern!au, undisclosed age gap, SMUT [use of toys (dildo and fleshlight), mutual masturbation, squirting, watching of pornography]

After midnight is Anakin’s favorite time of the day. His kids have been asleep since 8:30 pm— their weekday curfew— and he’s finally stopped working on the project he brought home from work. It kept him from watching 101 Dalmatians with Luke and Leia but “it needed to be done.”

He completed it well after the twins went to sleep, his neck was aching, and he needed to unwind. Now, he’s settled on the left side of his king bed, back propped against the headboard and his tablet waiting for him on the nightstand. He’s been thinking about this all day. Ever since he got the notification at 1:48 p.m. that HoneySuckle uploaded a new video.

While he was at work. On a very busy day, he might add. As much as he wanted to get away to watch it immediately, he couldn’t. But now he has uninterrupted time to enjoy himself and the woman he’s about to watch.

Anakin watches HoneySuckle exclusively. For over three years now, he has been subscribed to her page for $7.99 a month, which is an absolute disgrace to the quality of content she puts out. That’s why he tips her at least $200 for each video. It’s a number that hardly means a thing to Anakin. But to HoneySuckle, it is everything. It’s a cushion for incidentals. For the flat tire on her Mini Cooper. The vet bill for her orange tabby, Panini. She has expressed her thanks to him in their private messages, but it never seems to be enough.

Their casual conversations are never enough.

It comes as a great surprise to Anakin to see that her newest video is dedicated to him. Him— Anakin Skywalker AKA skyguy81. AKA HoneySuckle’s biggest fan and number one supporter.

Squirting for Sky 🖤

He’s never clicked on anything faster in his life. The edges of his brain are beginning to fog. The mere thought of Honey getting off to the thought of him makes goosebumps prickle along his skin and his cock begin to swell. But then he sees what she’s wearing. Or, not wearing for that matter. Usually, she’ll begin videos with a full set on. Whether it’s a lacy bra and panties, a teddy, or a babydoll, teasingly taking off her lingerie is part of her brand.

Not in this video, though. In this new 23 minute video, she is wearing a black garter and thong with roses embroidered in the mesh along her hip bones. Sheer black stockings are pulled up to her thighs and as she spreads her legs— dear God— Anakin sees that her panties are crotchless.

Every video is expertly angled so only the bottom half of her face is on camera. She’s mentioned to Anakin in the past that this is not her full time job and therefore some anonymity is important. He doesn’t need to see her whole face to know she is beautiful.

“I bought this just for you,” Honey says directly to Anakin. “You said you liked black. I hope you like this.” She goes to grab the vibrator next to the pink dildo on her bed.

“I love it,” Anakin mumbles. Running her hand over one of her bare breasts, she turns on the vibrator. The familiar hum of the toy reminds Anakin to put on his headphones. Just in case.

Now with that taken care of, Anakin can begin taking care of himself. It doesn’t take long for the guy to get hard when he’s watching Honey. Hell, he can just think about her and he’ll be horny. The melodic cadence to her voice, the angelic sounds she makes when she cums, the lustful desire to bury himself in her cunt. She is the only woman he has desired since his wife and he doesn’t even know her name. But he knows the curves of her body as if he’s felt them with his own two hands. God, how he wishes he could touch her, kiss her, pleasure her.

It’s pathetic. He is pathetic for wanting the impossible. Anakin Skywalker is a smart man. A genius in many regards. Yet he’s delusional enough to think her messages might mean something. That this video dedicated to him means something.

Of course, it doesn’t. Everything about his conversations with Honey is transactional. It’s part of her job. That’s it. Nothing more. You’re not special.

But fuck, does it make his cock hard thinking this is all for him. Well, this is for him. The title of the video says so. With her legs spread nice and wide, Anakin can see how wet she has become from the vibrator on her clit.

Stiff and dribbling precum on his belly, Anakin wraps his long fingers around his equally long shaft. He swipes his palm over the tip to lubricate the rest of his dick. Honey has now turned off the vibrator and grabs the dildo. Despite its playful color, it’s a formidable size. A similar 7 inches to Anakin’s cock, she opens her mouth and the tip disappears. Then a little bit more… and a little more… until she’s gagging. She pulls it out of her mouth with a loud gasp. Messy strings of saliva fall on her chin and chest.

“Fuck,” she breathes. “I love choking on your cock. Feeling it so deep in my throat until I can’t breathe.”

This sends a jolt through Anakin’s whole body. His cock lurches in his hand and he knows all too well that his hand will simply not suffice tonight. He pauses Honey’s video and reluctantly gets off of bed to retrieve his Fleshlight from his hidden stash in the closet. Usually, his hand does just fine. He’s used to it by now. Being a single dad in his early forties and the CEO of his own company, he doesn’t have time to go on dates. He has one woman on his rolodex of hookup numbers and even then, he doesn’t contact her often. Usually it’s her who needs him. He prefers it that way, anyway.

Anakin returns to his bed with the barely used Fleshlight in hand and immediately resumes the video. Honey continues to give the dildo a blowjob, making Anakin ache for it to be his cock in her mouth. He can only imagine how warm it is. How he’d make her relax so he can shove his entire length down her throat. How she’d sound choking on his dick and not some pink toy.

Again, she holds it in her mouth until her lungs are screaming for air. Anakin ruts his hips up into his fist. He’s waiting to use the Fleshlight until she puts the toy in her cunt.

Which is right now. She lines the tip of it to her opening, pushing the head in teasingly before removing it and dragging it along her folds.

“Have you been good today? Do you deserve to fuck me?” The seductive nature of Honey’s voice is so familiar to Anakin, yet every time dirty talk drips from her lips, his spine tingles.

“Please, Honey,” Anakin whispers, hovering the opening of the Fleshlight over his cock. “Put it in, baby.”

As if obeying his command, Honey pushes the toy into her hole. At the same time, Anakin lowers his own toy onto himself. The tight Fleshlight sucks in his dick and it damn near has Anakin’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. He’d forgotten what it feels like… how similar yet different it is to real pussy. Fuck, what he would do to have his cock in Honey’s actual cunt. The best he can do is use his overactive imagination.

Honey is thrusting the dildo in and out of her and soft moans fill Anakin’s ears. He yanks the Fleshlight up and down—a lazy way of using it, he knows— but it does the job. “That’s it…” he breathes. His heartbeat is racing impossibly fast, chasing down an orgasm that is going to arrive far too soon. “I fuck you so well, don’t I, Honey?”

“Mm…” she whimpers, pushing the toy deeper and further into her. “Your cock’s so big… fills me up so well. Feels so good!”

“You have no idea how good I could make you feel,” Anakin growls. In his mind she’s on her back, just as she is now. Her knees are pushed up to her ears and Anakin is thrusting into her tight hole to no end. He’s so deep, he can see himself in her stomach. He kisses her, finally tasting her on his own lips. Their tongues are doing a dance, his fingers are on her clit for maximum pleasure. And she’s screaming his name. She can’t believe how good he fucks. How he, at 42 years old, can last as long as he has. “I’m not fucking geriatric,” he’d say. He’d make her cum at least twice before he does, just to prove a point.

Honey then takes the dildo out of her cunt and brings it back up to her mouth. Anakin removes the Fleshlight. She hollows her cheeks around it whilst reaching for the vibrator. She turns it back on and returns it to her clit. Her toes curl at the sensation and a moan is muffled by the cock in her mouth.

“Let me hear you,” Anakin encourages, no matter how silly and pointless it is to do so. “Please, Honey. I love hearing you moan.”

She takes the dildo out of her mouth to announce that she’s going to cum. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!”

She’s squirming on the bed, mouth shaped in that glorious ‘O’. As her orgasm rattles through her body, she keeps the vibrator on her swollen nub and returns the dildo to her pussy. Anakin follows suit and sheathes his cock once again, thrusting his hips up to the speed Honey is fucking herself.

“I hope you…fuck, that feels good,” she is interrupted by her own pleasure. It’s her authenticity that Anakin adores and enjoys the most. It never feels like she’s performing. “I hope you’re making yourself feel as good as I feel. Are you fucking your hand? Your mattress? A pillow? I bet you wish you were in my tight cunt. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” Anakin breathes. He is on fire now. He’s not sure the coil in his belly could get any tighter. He’s going to cum soon and Honey hasn’t even squirted yet. There’s five minutes left of the video. “You wouldn’t believe—ah, fucking hell— wouldn’t believe how badly I want to fuck you.”

“I’m gonna squirt! Oh my God…please cum for me. Cum while I squirt for you!” Honey removes the dildo as the clear liquid sprays from her cunt. Anakin abandons the Fleshlight and takes over with his tried and true hand. He’s pumping quickly, he’s mesmerized by Honey and how she squirts a little more each time she puts the dildo back inside of her and pulls it back out. Her back is arching off of the bed as she drops both toys and cums one last time.

Anakin is cumming now, too. His sack twitches up toward him while he releases his load on his belly. He stuffs a fist into his mouth to silence his moan. He bites down on his own hand with fervor, and it hurts. He isn’t completely finished when he hears her utter the words ‘last video.’

Wait, what?

He needs to go back. Surely, he didn’t hear her correctly.

“I hope you all enjoyed yourselves while watching. I know I did. This is a bit of a last hurrah for me. I’m starting a new job next week and I just don’t think I’ll have the time to upload, so this might be my last video. Thank you for all of the support over the last three years. I had a great time. Kisses, HoneySuckle.”

And that’s the end of it. Anakin is stunned. He watches her video again. And then once more. There's a lilt to her voice that makes Anakin think she is happy to be done with this. He should be happy for her. But he hangs onto the word ‘might’.

Honey said this might be her last video. Anakin shouldn’t feel so fucking relieved that his favorite OnlyFans performer might still upload videos. What is wrong with him? He has no real connection to her whatsoever yet he feels disappointed by the idea of not having her videos in his life anymore.

Fuck it. He sends her a $500 tip, a little message and goes to wash up.

Panini is pressed against your side, purring contentedly while you stroke his back absently. You’re wrapped in a sherpa cozy in bed while watching The Great British Bake Off. It’s your bedtime show. You’ve probably seen every series at least 3 times, simply because it’s the show you put on to go to sleep. But most of the time, you end up staying up to watch it as if you’ve never seen it before.

Your phone lights up with a notification. You glance at it but immediately do a double take. You grab your phone off of your nightstand and stare at the screen with your jaw dropped.

Skyguy81 sent you a tip!

$500

You pause in the middle of Prue Leith giving her thoughts on someone’s Showstopper. You swipe right to open the message.

That was spectacular, Honey. From the lingerie to the beautiful way you cum. You certainly know how to put on a show. I must admit, I was a bit disappointed to hear that it might be your last video. You are the only performer I watch. I will miss you. I wish you the best of luck with your new endeavor.

And I know what you are going to say. “It’s too much.” It is not. Please accept the tip as a token of my appreciation. You helped me feel less lonely on the days I needed someone the most. - Sky

Why do you feel like you’re about to cry? Sky has been your top supporter since you began uploading videos during COVID. It was just supposed to be a way to make ends meet. To pay off the student loans and any other financials that came up. The tips started off relatively small. $50 here, $75 there. He was the first to give you a $100 tip.

Then, after about a year, he upped it to $200 after each video. Your thank you messages to him turned into conversations. Short ones, never deep or personal, yet you feel like you know him. You feel like…no, it’s silly. You feel like he could be a friend. If you both weren’t hiding behind a screen and fake names, maybe you actually could be.

You begin typing a response.

Sky- I am going to say it anyway. THAT IS WAY TOO MUCH!!! You have been far too generous to me over the years. I don’t deserve it.

He replies in a matter of seconds.

I have to disagree, Honey. I wish I could do more for you.

Like what?

I would take you out to a nice dinner. Perhaps share a bottle of wine while we get to know each other.

Would you take me home after?

Whose home?

Whichever you’d like.

I’d take you back to your house and leave you with a goodnight kiss.

That’s all?

You would like more?

What the hell are you doing? Are you actually flirting with this man? He could be 60 years old and bald! Not that there’s anything wrong with being 60 or bald, but come on. You’re in your 20s. You have to have some limit. You stare at his username. Skyguy81. Maybe 81 is his birth year? So, that would put him at 42. 42 isn’t too bad…

Oh, what the hell. It’s not like you’re actually gonna meet this guy, right?

Well, I might wear something special underneath my dress. Something that I paid for with the money you’ve given me. Wouldn’t you want to see it?

Yes. I would.

What would you do if you took me home?

When you don’t hear back from Sky after thirty minutes, you assume he fell asleep. It is nearly 1 a.m. on a Thursday night. Or is it early Friday morning? Regardless, he probably has work in the morning.

With a rather loud yawn, you decide it’s time for you to go to sleep, too.

Luke and Leia barge into Anakin’s room at 7:30, dressed and ready to go to school while their dad is still fast asleep. He must have slept through his alarm. Luke is poking him in the side and urging him to wake up.

“Alright, I’m up,” he grumbles, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Have you two eaten?”

Leia nods. “Eggos and orange juice.”

“I wanted a Toaster Strudel,” Luke says.

“And I told him we don’t have any Toaster Strudels,” replies his twin sister.

“Yes we do! You just didn’t look hard enough.”

Anakin pinches the bridge of his nose. He feels a headache coming on. He didn’t drink last night, so why does he feel hungover? “Ahsoka ate the last one when she was here on Tuesday, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Luke recalls.

“Dad, we’re gonna be late for school if you don’t get out of bed,” Leia says.

Anakin checks the time on his phone. Your message from last night is at the bottom of his notifications. He already has five work emails to answer. His calendar pings with reminders about meetings and his assistant’s retirement party. “Bring your things to the front door. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

In the rush of getting himself dressed, not only does he put on two different pairs of socks but two different pairs of shoes, too. He doesn’t realize this until after he enters the office and Dorothy, attentive as ever, points it out as he’s walking past her desk and into his office.

Dorothy is 74 years old, a widow, and owl fanatic. She has been Anakin’s assistant since he started the company 20 years ago. “Did you get dressed in the dark, Mr. Skywalker?”

Even after two decades of Anakin’s insistence on calling him by his first name, Dorothy continues to defy him. “I overslept,” Anakin answers. “I was rushing to get ready because you know how Leia gets when she’s late to anything.”

Dorothy nods. “Yes, she is the most punctual 9 year old I know. I presume you did not eat breakfast.”

“No, I didn’t.” Anakin opens his emails.

“Why don’t I get you an egg sandwich from Dexter’s after I retrieve a matching pair to one of your shoes.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Anakin cracks a smile. Dorothy has always been two steps ahead of Anakin. She’s been somewhat of a mother figure to him over the years. She believed in him when no one else did. How many people are going to put their faith in a cocky 22 year old with wild engineering innovations? Dorothy was there when his wife passed away and nannied the twins off and on for a few years while Anakin regained his bearings. His heart contracts. He is truly going to miss her. “Do you have to retire, Dorothy?”

“I’m afraid so,” Dorothy replies with a bittersweet smile. “You will be just fine. And I trust my successor will attend to your needs just as well as I have. I picked her myself. I know exactly what you need in an assistant, Mr. Skywalker.”

Did Dorothy just wink at Anakin before leaving his office? What the hell does she have up her sleeve?

Gold and brown leaves dance across the concrete in the courtyard of Skywalker Enterprises. The autumn air bites at your cheeks and you’re thankful you decided to wear a beanie along with your plaid pea coat.

You notice Dorothy’s silver hair before the rest of her as she walks toward you with two cups of something hot in her hands. “Good morning, Y/N.” she hands you the cup.

“Good morning, Dorothy,” you reply with a smile. You lift off the lid to smell the contents. The steam tickles your nose before recognizing the warm spices of Chai. “You remembered my drink order?”

“Of course.” Dorothy sits across from you. “I trust you went over the files I sent you regarding Mr. Skywalker? How are you feeling about the job?”

You take a meager sip of your Chai latte. It’s still too hot to drink. “I read all of them at least three times. He doesn’t seem too high maintenance.”

“Far from it,” Dorothy replies.

“But…” you begin, wondering if you should even mention it.

“What is it, dear?”

“I just find it a little strange that I haven’t met him. I would’ve assumed he’d be part of the hiring process. Isn’t it important we get along?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Anakin gets along with everyone! He’s a charmer,” Dorothy sips on her drink. “He entrusted me with finding a replacement for myself because I know him better than anyone. I know his needs better than he knows them. And you, my dear, have shown you are more than capable to take over. Your references spoke very highly of you.”

Right. Your references— one of which was your best friend who pretended to be a famous influencer who you “assisted” for 2 years after college. The other was a family you nannied for for only 2 weeks while the wife was out of town and the dad thought he could pull off some fantasy of fucking the nanny. The only good thing that came out of it was him telling you he’d give you a stellar reference for your next job. Turns out he wasn’t lying.

“So, I’ll start on Monday? By myself? No shadowing or anything?”

Dorothy nods. “I will officially be retired by 5 p.m. today. After which, Mr. Skywalker is yours.”

Don’t you wish. You’ve seen photos of him in Forbes. It’s an understatement to say he’s handsome. And it would be a lie to say you didn’t apply for the job because of his looks. By some miracle you were chosen out of hundreds of applicants and hired. You’ve signed the papers already. You’re officially on the Skywalker Enterprises payroll. Of course, you’ll be on probation for 90 days but Dorothy seems confident you’ll be a good fit.

Hopefully you will live up to Anakin Skywalker’s expectations.

remember to reblog and leave comments to support authors!

◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter two

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x f!reader #anakin skywalker fan fiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker imagine #dilf!anakin skywalker #dilf!anakin #dilf anakin skywalker #modern!anakin skywalker #modern anakin skywalker #as fate would have it

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sadhours · 11 months ago

Text

gamer boyfriend with kurt

kurt x female reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, virginity loss, oral (m receiving), no use of y/n, awkward dirty talk, p in v (unprotected)

“Ya know, if you actually stream the gameplay and not just your face, people might watch,” you tell him as you sit back on the bed, plugging in your phone.

Kurt looks down at his lap and then back up at you, looks like he’s connecting the dots and you’re right. Like he’s never thought of that before. He pouts, “Yeah well maybe when the money from Spree gets to my bank, I’ll look into it.”

You huff, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can watch him. You have no idea what game he’s playing, video games aren’t really your thing. But it’s a bunch of dudes running around with guns. You’d have a better chance guessing if the games were listed on a board and you threw a dart at it. Who you think is Kurt’s character isn’t very good, though. The dudes running around in circles and not shooting. Gets shot several times in the few minutes you’re watching.

“Are you winning?” you ask, bored.

“No,” he mumbles.

You sigh and pick up your phone, scrolling through Twitter absentmindedly when some porn pops up and out of curiosity, you don’t keep scrolling. An idea pops into your head and you reach your foot out to poke Kurt’s thigh. “I know how to get some attention online,” you purr.

“How?!” he asks excitedly, glancing briefly at you and then his eyebrows furrow. “I’m talking to my girlfriend, not you guys!” he screeches into the mic. Then his eyes roll, “Yes, she’s real.”

You giggle, stroking your foot up his thigh and back down. His cheeks flush as he continues in the mic, “We haven’t had a chance yet.” He sounds embarrassed and you can assume they’re asking if he’s slept with you, in not so nice words. And you two haven’t. Not for a lack of trying on your end. Hell, you would’ve blown him in his Spree the first time you met. Granted, you were drunk but you thought Kurt was cute and really, you would’ve invited him in if he wasn’t so awkward. So you left him your number on a napkin but he never called. And for about two weeks you wracked your brain trying to remember his instagram handle that he repeatedly rattled off to you and your drunken friends. They thought he was cringey but something about Kurt intrigued you. He was sweet. And really goddamn good looking under that mop of greasy hair and clothes his mom picked out for him.

She was really the reason you guys hadn’t done much more than rushed handjobs in his Prius. Kurt’s mom was… protective. Babied the hell out of Kurt. Treats him like a teenager and not a 23 year old man. The door has to stay open when you’re over. Like that would stop two adults from fooling around.

“We’re busy, I don’t know,” Kurt’s mumbling interrupts your thoughts. “No! She wants to. She definitely wants to.”

You get up from his bed and get yourself between his thighs, purring into the mic, “Oh, I really want to.”

Kurt’s face lights up, cheeks flushing as they swell with a bright smile. You giggle, and close his laptop, ending his stream. Something like this will get him banned, and you’re pretty sure he’d cry over it. He starts to protest, “Wait! What are you—“ it dies in his throat as you palm at his crotch over his pants.

His eyes roll back the harder you rub and yours glance up towards the door, making sure his mom isn’t being nosy. But she works a lot so when she gets home, she tends to pass out watching TV. You’re probably in the clear as long as Kurt keeps quiet. Your fingers work to unbutton his jeans, pulling down the zipper before grabbing his waistband and tugging his pants down. You can see the swell of his dick chubbing up in his briefs and you rub your nose against him, looking up to see his pretty, full lips falling open. He’s gripping the controller close to his chest and his eyes are on you. Sweetest brown eyes you’ve ever seen.

Mouthing at his boner, you hook your fingers into his briefs and start pulling them down his thighs. Kurt’s impressive length flops out and rises with arousal, filling out quickly. Kurt hasn’t admitted he’s a virgin, but you’ve come to the conclusion he is. Which is a first for you and it’s exciting. The thought that you’ll be his first is intoxicating and has you soaking through your panties. You wrap your fingers around his cock and stroke him slow and tight, mouth watering at the sight of it. His cocks huge. Pretty. Thick and long with a pink head and it gets wet. Never seen a man leak so much. You lick his slit, giddy when he whines and grips the Xbox controller tighter.

“Maybe I am,” he mumbles into the microphone and smirks and you laugh softly, squeezing his dick tighter. More precum bubbles out of his slit and you’re quick to lick it up.

“Tell them, Kurt,” you bite your lip, “Tell them what I’m doing.”

He looks shy, eyebrows raising as his cheeks ruddy even more, “She’s literally touching my dick right now.”

He whispers it, barely audible and you wrap your lips around his tip, sucking softly as you look up at him. Wide eyed. Kurt whines again and then says, “I’m not lying!”

“Shh,” you hush him when you pull off his dick, “We have to be quiet.”

“Sorry,” his eyes are so so sweet and apologetic. You need him. Can’t handle it anymore. You stand, pushing down your leggings and underwear before climbing into his lap. He grunts, looking at you all wide eyed and confused but it just spurs you on more. You’re almost feral for it. For him. For Kurt.

“Shh,” you repeat, “Need you, now.”

You grip his cock, lining it up with your entrance and sinking down on him. You whine from it and Kurt moans, loud and shaky. Slapping your palm over his mouth, you look at him with wide eyes before looking over to the doorway.

“Kurt… keep it down, baby. Okay?” you whisper, gazing into those beautiful brown eyes. He nods, and you grab the controller, dropping it to the floor and guiding his hands to hold your waist. He grips you tightly, looking up at you with stars in his eyes. You smile, stroking his cheek with your thumb before lifting up and slowly lowering back down on him. Kurt looks amazed, eyes and mouth open in absolute awe. You build a slow and gently rhythm, wanting this to last at least five minutes.

You connect your lips to his, pushing the headphones off his head and they fall around his neck. Riding him steadily, you deepen the kiss as you slide your tongue along his lower lip. But Kurt’s Kurt so he doesn’t get it and you have to press your thumb to his chin and pull his mouth open. When you lick inside his mouth, he moans and digs his fingers into the small of your back. Thank God his cocks so long, it prods at your g-spot perfectly, hooked just right. You’re sure you can cum if you time it properly. So you kiss him filthier before picking up the pace, sucking on his tongue and licking against the roof of his mouth. Kurt’s completely falling apart, whimpering and messy. You bounce in his lap, adjusting the angle to ensure he’s slamming against your spongy bit just so.

His gaming chair squeaks under the weight, rhythmically mirroring your thrusts. You gasp, pulling back from the kiss and whispering in his ear, “Talk to me, baby. Make me me cum.”

“Oh!” he whines, “okay, uh… I’m fucking you. With my dick.”

It’s almost sweet and dorky enough to work, it makes you smile and you nod as you whisper back, “Yeah, baby. You are, your cock is so big. Filling me so deep, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he whimpers, “Filling your pussy up.”

“How’s my pussy feel, baby?” You coax him along, knitting your fingers in his hair, slowing your movements.

“Good. Really good,” he struggles to get stay quiet, voice wrecked and shaky, “It’s wet and so good.”

“Yeah?” you hum, kissing along his jaw, “You wanna cum in my pussy, baby?”

“I—fuck,” he grits out, wrapping his arms around your waist while he holds you still, spurts of hot cum shooting from him inside you.

Well, you tried. You nuzzle against him and repeatedly kiss his jaw as he rides out his bliss. “That’s it, Kurt. Fill me up.”

He lets out a pathetic sound, face all contorted as he thrusts his hips up at you. Then his arms fall to his sides while he lets out labored breaths. You keep kissing his face and stroking his hair.

“Let’s go to mine. And we can do that some more,” you say and Kurt laughs, full of excitement and disbelief.

#kurt kunkle smut #kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle x reader #Kurt kunkle x you

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usedpidemo · 1 year ago

Text

Acquainted (Red Velvet Yeri)

(Thank you for the commission! I hope it's to your liking.)

You’re just about ready to head off to sleep when you check the group chat. This is your nightly tradition. These strangers, now your closest friends despite the anonymity, are active and in good spirits, as usual. Outside of your weekday 9-to-5, these few moments are the most interesting parts of your day, and you just so happen to join during a particularly lively conversation:

> [22:48:01] yerimiese: (posts a link to a red velvet album article)

> [22:48:14] flutter mane: :sanapog:

> [22:48:23] silksong sulker: k-pop is saved

> [22:48:33] wonyoung cockjuicer: ew red velvet

> [22:48:37] wonyoung cockjuicer: wonyoung can peg me tbh

> [22:48:39] irene’s tokki: Bae J:floshedjiggle::floshedjiggle:hyun

> [22:49:06] milf hunter: :floshed:

> [22:49:11] milf hunter: gape sugalo

So of course, you chime in as well.

> [22:50:12] You: lets get it, new rv fancams

You’re in no mood to chat for longer than five minutes, but before you head offline, you receive a private message from your closest friend:

> yerimiese: so when are you in korea again?

> You: Next week, why?

> yerimiese: nice. why don’t we meet up, that would be dope as fuck

> You: You’re in Korea?

> yerimiese: yeaaaah? why wouldn’t i be?

> You: I thought you’d be doing other schedules abroad

> yerimiese: nah sm definitely won’t fly us out to film an mv. cheap ass bastards ㅋㅋㅋ

Yerimiese then sends you a video link. It’s a Yeri fancam, her weapon of choice. Your conversations began with small, intimate talks about your personal life, soon transpiring into open fapping, degrading, and casual lewdness with each other. Despite the usually depraved nature of your messages, you both continued sharing snippets of your day to day lives. That’s how close you’ve grown as friends.

> You: Well i’m very tired, today was a long day at work, had to work overtime. No time to lewd, sorry

> yerimiese: it's alright. you did well today

Yerimiese sends you a pic this time. It’s an event; the internet can’t load any quicker. You’re hungry, impatient, dying. Whether it’s intentional or not, the photos she sends whenever you’re tired or stressed out are hotter than her usual swimsuit or photoshoot reel. You’ve shared enough about your daily routine to her that a camera crew might as well be recording you.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary; a simple candid pic of herself lying in bed, her face perfectly cropped out of the background, showing nothing but her body on full display in front of the huge mirror, dressed in skimpy black panties and a white shirt that accentuates her shapely breasts. As usual, she’s not wearing a bra; you can clearly see her hard nipples demanding all of your attention.

> yerimiese: no need to send a dick pic tonight if you don’t feel like doing it

You can’t help it. Tired as you are, you feel obligated to send her one. Luckily, every pic she sends is more than enough to make you instantly hard. It feels more guilty not to be turned on, rather.

It’s a mostly quick and painless affair, powerful enough to put you out of commission within minutes. Even though you’re mentally checked out, Yerimiese’s sexy body is too hot not to crank one out. Taking a pic of your erect cock as you pump yourself to her is second nature; sending it on sticky fingers after you’ve spurted all over your phone and blankets is a different story. There’s no other way to put it, she was the perfect reprieve from the day’s exhaustions—a perfect high note to go out on.

> yerimiese: fuck you’re THROBBING THROBBING tonight :ningasm: your dick looks so damn nice. i can taste your cum through the screen

> You: Happy now?

> yerimiese: more than, and then some. I wish you were here right now so you could feel how wet I am

> You: Just wait. I can’t wait to fuck you hard. Goodnight

> yerimiese: goodnight

> yerimiese: :tukkwithkiss:

—————

The next time you’re able to communicate with her, you’re one day away from being in Korea. In that period, you’ve been inactive in the group chat because work. What welcomes you back is a barrage of lewd photos and Yeri fancams.

> yerimiese: see you tomorrow :chuupeek:

It’s an open secret that you know she’s Kim Yerim. Yes, that Kim Yerim of Red Velvet fame. It was a giveaway right from the first explicit photo she sent you; those tits in a tight, petite package couldn’t have belonged to anyone other than hers. That, and the fact that her username is the same as her Instagram handle, and that she has a photo of herself in the group as a display pic. How she would end up stumbling into your private K-pop server objectifying her body and her profession is one of life’s biggest mysteries, yet here she is, giving you a very personal look into her shapely figure, better than any fancam and photoshoot could ever provide. To others, she’s merely a casual acquaintance, but to you, she can freely open up herself.

Mainly because you’re one of three people in the group chat that still cares about Red Velvet.

Her latest sent photo is relatively tame; a tight fitting white silk sundress, and the skirt is virtually nonexistent, her panties practically out in the open. Luckily for you, she seems to be sitting down, but not in her usual living room. The notion that this is what welcomes you to Korea, that you’ll be balls deep inside an idol’s pussy right when you land—it ruins you.

Almost.

An airport guard manages to break your deep train of thought. “Sir! No phones please,” he sternly commands, saving you from total disaster; you’re inches away from walking straight through a metal detector with your phone in hand, the belt around your pants, and some spare coins lying deep in your pocket after you bought some traditionally expensive bottled water. Luckily, no one manages to see the photo—and even if they did, she’s still smart enough to cut out her face, leaving nothing else to your imagination.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about immigration and airport security, it’s that there’s little need for repetition. You go through security four times. At the entrance, after the check-in counter, then within your departure gate, and even before boarding your flight—repetitive. It’s frustrating enough to tell Yerim, to which she responds with more lewd photos of herself.

> yerimiese: yeah ive been there before ㅋㅋㅋ

> yerimiese: how long’s ur flight?

> You: About 13 hours

> yerimiese: cali?

> You: Yes

> yerimiese: kinda random, but seulgi misses los angeles

> You: How come?

> yerimiese: something about an ex-boyfriend that i didn’t know about until the other day ㅋㅋㅋ i bet she’ll be jealous when she hears about you coming over just to clap my cheeks ㅋㅋㅋ she’d wish it was her bf instead of you

> You: does she know about this?

> yerimiese: of course not LOL i bet you’d rather fuck her instead of me, so she’ll never know. smh.

> You: That’s not true ur my RV bias since day one!

> yerimiese: stop lying LMAO i don’t blame you tho seulgi has some really toned legs and a nice slappable ass XD anyway, i’m gonna send you something to pass the time while ur onboard

> You: If it’s a masturbating clip i swear to god

> yerimiese: fuck you got me LOL

> You: Goddamit if anyone finds out on a plane of all places…

> yerimiese: i still can’t get over your clip of you jerking to me. i can taste your dick. you’re depriving me by leaving me out to dry for a week ㅋㅋㅋ

> You: You’ve been touching yourself to that clip for a week??

> yerimiese: can’t help myself, album prep has been tiring and i haven’t really found any opportunity to relax in the meantime

> You: I’ll be there soon, just wait a bit longer

> yerimiese: can’t trust me with that, i’m very close to making a huge mess of my hotel room ㅋㅋㅋ

> You: You’re in a hotel?

> yerimiese: just to meet you! I won’t be able to meet you at the airport (duh, idol dating shit), so this is the next best thing. just message me when you’ve landed here, okay?

> You: Sure

—————

It’s ingrained deep within Yerim’s mind. A core memory. If her phone could present count how many times she’s played the clip, it would be over a thousand.

It’s very straightforward. A 45 second clip of someone masturbating between the sheets, pressing their erect cock against their phone with a brightened image of a scantily clad woman on the screen. But it’s not just any woman, it’s her. She’s pleasuring herself to the idea of a man jerking off to her. She’s following his rhythm, timing the pace her fingers rub her clit to the tempo of the man’s cock pumping to her zoomed-in breasts.

And she’s mere minutes removed from a conversation with that exact same person.

Slumped against the hotel room walls, her bliss spirals out of control rapidly. Her legs are instinctively spread wide, juices already leaking through her panties and spilling to the floor; that’s how used they are to Yerim’s impulses to pleasure herself. In those brief moments, she imagines how the next few days play out, skipping past the formalities and pleasantries and going straight to the fucking. She moans and shouts as if that very man’s cock is penetrating her pussy hard at this very moment. Her other hand bashes the wall, tongue screaming streams of profanities, as if he’s manhandling her, using her to his personal delight.

“Fuck! Suck those fucking tits!” she screams, slipping one strap of her sundress down to pinch her own tit, enhancing the illusion. Her phone rings; in her mind it's functionally a vibrator. He’s come fully prepared, and she’s riding high knowing that this person is doing exactly what he said in their private messages from the very start.

Yerim drags her fingers along her clit violently, desperate to reach climax, the realization that this is her third orgasm of the day way beyond her. The evidence can be found everywhere: on the soiled bed sheets and in the smell of the shower; she envisions herself getting railed in those parts of the room, and then some—essentially turning the entire hotel room into the backdrop for all of the things he’d do to her: fingers around her throat, sunk into her ass, until it’s red and hurting, the way she’d quiver and cream all over his throbbing cock. Her neediness has no limits; it even breaks past her very own personal quarters, the loudness of her own self-induced pleasure drawing concern from occupants nearby.

Only after the blissful haze of orgasm does everything fall back in place. That repetitive knock on the door is a huge wake up call. Yerim’s eyes widen.

“Shit.”

She checks her fingers—they’re coated in copious amounts of slick—and after a little further inspection, she realizes the aftermath.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

—————

Being honest about yourself, you couldn’t have asked to feel hornier at a worse time than this. Thirty thousand feet high up in the air, stuck in economy class because you don’t get paid enough to deal with the bullshit back in the office. Using your one of two allowed leaves in the year for a trip to see a girl you’ve mostly known online, and it isn’t even paid. To make things worse, there’s no layovers—just a point-to-point flight from San Francisco to Seoul. 13 hours.

And boy, is the ride absolutely miserable.

By what you might as well call divine intervention, you’re conveniently seated between a nun and a little girl—the two worst kinds of people to be alongside with. No, not because they’re annoying or anything like that; aside from the girl getting up every thirty minutes from her window seat to get something from her parents across the aisle, you’re practically barred access to your glorified archive of lewd Yerim pics. Opening them up with a kid barely in the first grade beside you is openly asking for trouble.

And the few times you get up for a lavatory break, you can’t get yourself going. There’s always someone at the door every five minutes.

Eight hours deep into the flight, you look over your shoulder, catch one of the male flight attendants sneak inside one of the vacant lavatories with a fellow stewardess while everyone’s fast asleep. Fucking sickening. That should be you with Yerim right now.

When you arrive on the other side of the planet, you’ve gotten only a couple hours’ worth of sleep. You almost fumble your passport at immigration, getting them mixed up with a slew of business and membership cards. Then there’s your forgetfulness working against you, remembering you need some kind of pocket Wi-Fi, and now you have to spend a little more to get back online. It’s a mess, and it wasn’t that long since you were in Europe for a seminar, where these things were merely second nature to you.

At least you remembered that VPNs exist. You message Yerim on the taxi ride out of the airport, unsure of where to begin.

> You: Just got out of immigration

> yerimiese: fuckin finally!

> yerimiese: you got a place to stay here?

> You: Not yet

> yerimiese: don’t bother, lemme send you my hotel address, you can stay here

Of course you don’t know Korean, despite the constant back and forth with Yerim for months. Learning’s been on the backend of your itinerary, and has never been your top priority, even now. You show the cab driver the address, who merely looks at you and the phone with a particularly vacant and dumbfounded expression, as if you’re stupid for not planning this out—which, in that regard, he’d be correct.

When you finally arrive at the hotel, only one message stands between you and finally meeting Yerimiese, once and for all.

> yerimiese: I’ll be at the poolside, third floor. can’t wait to meet you :P

And that’s exactly where you end up going. Forget that you’re lugging two whole bags and a traveler’s backpack on your shoulders; you drop them off at the front desk, expecting the staff to have a clue of what’s going on and what’s about to happen.

Stepping out into the poolside, it’s a completely barren sight. It’s three in the afternoon on a Tuesday; most people probably aren’t even booked, let alone in this supposed five-star hotel. You don’t really question whether she’s being serious or not, the evidence was in the previously sent photos; you’re dying to meet her at this point.

And as if perfectly timed for dramatic effect, a woman emerges from beneath the waters, shaking off the wetness from her damp hair.

Yerim casually swims over the deep waters’ edge, without a care in the world, let alone your presence quietly shadowing over the large pool. Even halfway submerged, you can make out the outline of her shapely bust and hourglass figure, tightly hugged by a pink swimsuit. She was sultry and intoxicating to gawk at from candid photos, but seeing Yerimiese herself in the flesh, that’s when the realization hits you: this is happening.

And you can’t move a muscle, let alone react from the actualization that you’re right in front of her. Even as the waves of water splash on your new loafers, you simply observe. It’s creepy, it’s morally dubious, but it’s one in a million. You’re taking in every moment, every second; soak it all in, you’ll never get an experience like this ever again.

You should be friends by now, if your definition of friendship means sharing explicit body photos and exchanging devious intentions about how you’ll fuck each other online or how much cum you’ve given to each other. But when she turns in your direction—catching you casually observing her, your hands tucked away in your coat’s pocket, grinning like a little kid— it’s back to square one.

Like the very first time.

Yerim takes all the time in the world to wade over from the other side of the pool, her smile growing closer as she approaches you. She lifts her eyebrows, expecting you to make a first move, to which you barely open your mouth, and ultimately only a deep breath, a stilted sigh, comes out.

Well, this is awkward.

Yerim giggles. You’ve previously heard her loud moans and cries, but a genuine laugh—this was your first. She never hops on calls in your group chat, most likely because idol shit, as she often refers to her line of work. Her laughter, her energetic expression—it’s as perfect of a translation to real life as it is online, and embodies the idol Yeri you know on screen.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asks, trying—and failing—to suppress more of her laughter.

Your answer is concise, but doesn’t seem quite right. “A while.”

In reality, about five minutes. You probably won’t be there any longer when she props herself out of the water with her strong elbows. Water cascades down her shapely figure, thicker and meatier than it's ever been, more than what the cameras and pictures present. She’s truly the entire package, through and through.

She walks over to her sunlounger, granting you a nice peek of her ass peeking through her skimpy swimsuit before she wraps herself with a towel. Apart from that, your only other notable observation is that she’s soaking wet, even bundled up. That, and also: she’s barefoot. No sign of slippers or any footwear—she willingly walked on what appears to be scorching cobbled floors.

“I would give you a big hug right now, but you know—” she comments, looking down at her drenched self, pool water endlessly dripping down to her feet. Even if she isn’t soaking wet, you’d still be frozen in place, or even worse, some eagle-eyed stranger or Dispatch reporter catch you in secret and you both end up on national news the very next day.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you say, trying to dodge Yerim’s eyes. “I left my stuff at the front desk. I should probably go and grab them.”

“Smart.” Yerim sizes you up, nodding in amazement at how you’ve managed to get yourself past the entrance. “See you upstairs, then? Room 1015.”

—————

The difference between you and Yerim couldn’t be any more obvious.

Granted, you’re fresh off a 13 hour flight, followed by an hour's travel from the airport to a five-star hotel in the heart of Seoul. Yerim had all the time in the world to prepare, and yet when she emerges from the bathroom in nothing but a modest bathrobe and her dark hair bundled up, she’s never looked better.

Facing an idol in such a haggard condition, it gives you an underlying feeling of shame. And if you’re being completely honest, if not for your cock, she’d probably be repulsed and call security on you.

But there's no security in sight. Just you, just yeri, the two of you standing in this room - which is, for the most part, quite nice. Multiple bedrooms, a lovely view of the city beneath you, and all sorts of amenities and features you’ll never get to use—you half expect her members to come in later, but perhaps for your sake, you’re better off with just her and her alone.

When Yerim begins to talk, she rambles. She goes on about the status of the next album, discussions about a possible solo debut, her relationships with her members—conversations about topics that you never really had online. It was mostly dirty talk and lewd captions. At best, you knew each other at a surface level, but here she is, sharing everything from her heart like you’ve been lifelong friends since day one.

You let her. She’s as charismatic as what she portrays on screen, and her sass is no different than the private messages she sends you. There’s not a single dull moment whenever Yerim speaks. Though you know her mostly for her body, her personality is what has you sticking around.

You wonder if she feels the same way about you.

“So, how’d you find out about us?” Yerim asks, after blabbering for a while, and you genuinely believe she’d keep going till nightfall. Close enough. Five minutes away from five in the afternoon, and you’d already spent the last hour and a half listening to a personalized podcast from her. You hope she doesn’t notice the plate of bulgogi on the table now completely empty.

“Well, a friend was a K-pop fan and had an extra ticket when you toured here,” you say, casually, slumped on the sofa. “Forgot how long that was—” you pause, “five years ago?”

“Five years? Five years since we went to America?” Yerim appears flabbergasted, face in utter disbelief at the passage of time. The realization causes her to stand from her chair. You’d be too after listening to her drone on endlessly. “Fuck.”

“SM! Give us a fucking world tour already!” she screams, pretending she’s inside the company building and you’re an executive in the room. Watching her snarkiness come to life never ceases to amuse you. You’ll let her go on for as long as she needs to; she’s entertaining in such a unique and charming way that it disarms you.

“Argh, sorry, you know me.” She suddenly stops, faces you, arms crossed, mocking up a pout. “Look at me suddenly losing my shit for no good reason.”

“Are your members used to this?”

That didn’t come out right.

She bats an eyelid. On her face is a mild, blank look of displeasure. That didn’t come out right.

“Used to what?”

“Well, uh, I—I mean—”

You gulp your throat.

“Stop.”

Then, an air of awkward silence. Her eyes quickly scan you, lazing on the sofa.

“Let’s just get to fucking each other right now.”

—————

It isn’t that you’ve forgotten the one purpose you’re there to begin with, it’s that Yerim is very, very impulsive. One moment, upset at her company for doing the bare minimum for her group and her career, the next she’s using you as an outlet to release her frustrations. It’s a good thing your first impression of her was that she was very busty, because otherwise, the other description you had of her was—simply put—bratty.

You’re on your back, plopped against one of the beds, completely caught off-guard by her show of strength. Eyes rolled to the back of your head, you find Yerim already at the bed’s edge, loosening the belt around her waist, quickly disrobing herself within seconds. It’s nothing new; you’ve seen glimpses of her nude figure in pictures, imagined many scenarios where you’ve got your hands on her, but this—to see her completely bare in the flesh—is new.

This is different.

“Just so you know,” you mutter, frantically panting, your heart jumping, as Yerim undresses in front of you, “I haven’t actually had sex before.”

Just like that, the mood instantly changes. She stops. Abruptly.

“What?”

Her mouth drops—again. Might as well stay agape.

You consider retracting your statement. It was a joke, you’d say, something to get her even more aroused, fired up. The sex would be wilder, hotter than anything your fantasies would conjure. Then again, you wouldn’t be in this exact situation if you weren’t so chronically online, simping over pop idols like a kid about to enter puberty.

“I guess that’s to be expected,” she comments, snarkily, grabbing the edges of your pants, daring to rip them off you. “That’s fucking life, baby!”

If you were in her shoes, obsessively waiting for someone with equally unhinged horniness, expressing precisely how you’d get fucked every single time you’d send a remotely lewd photo, you’d feel just as disappointed. You can tell by her partially scornful expression: she’s been fantasizing this moment as much as you have, too. You can’t blame her, but you kind of expected her to anticipate this; after all, you connected in a private group chat that’s been sexualizing her, of all places.

Surely the signs of virginity were right there.

“At least this is real,” she says, leaning her head forward while cupping your growing bulge poking through your trousers. Your tip, at full mast, mere inches away from her chin, instead of a little phone screen. She’s pushing you around, growing slightly more mischievous and uncontrollable with the prospect of throwing someone like you around instead of the opposite. Something her members may have taught and ingrained in her.

It isn’t quite the picture you expected from all the erotic snapshots and clips she’s been sending you. Every photo and video, designed to rouse the filthiest and wildest of your thoughts, was an act, a ruse to let your guard down, to give you this fixed headcanon that you can toss her around like she’s your personal plaything and object of pleasure. Instead, she’s using you for her own desires and wants.

It’s not that you don’t want her to use you and fuck you like this, it’s how completely in control she is that has you reeling, leaves you in a dizzy spell.

“I was gonna let you use my pussy and fuck me to ruin,” she says, playfully rolling her eyes, teasing and mocking. Her hand grips around the denim of your bulge, and it fucking stings. You’re sucking on loose air. “But since we have a virgin over here, I’m gonna do whatever I want.”

The implied connotation is what terrifies you, and no, it isn’t the revelation that Yerim isn’t a virgin—you assumed that much—but the notion that you were gonna have free reign over her cunt that has you contemplating some deep, long forgotten life decisions that set you back years. Their consequences are now starting to show.

She releases her ironclad grip on your pants, frees you of your obstructive clothing, both trousers and boxers down to the floor. Your hard cock springs free, terribly aching, already red and sore from her suffocating clench, and already leaking bursts of precum. The last day and a half hasn’t been kind to your cock.

To add insult to injury, she makes this licking motion with her tongue, aimed at your tip, but relents at the last minute. It leaves your throbbing cock aching harder, without any point of relief. The teasing sight almost renders you unconscious, and sends Yerim into a laughing frenzy.

“Remember when I said I could taste your cock?” she says, chuckling. It’s not playful in the slightest—quite the opposite, in fact. It’s sinister. “I’ll wait a little longer to taste it. Don’t worry.”

Not the most reassuring of words, especially when you’ve got your hands tied—at least, not yet. Actually, you appreciate that she isn’t going to milk your cock dry just yet; when you finally look past the situation at hand, you come to treasure her chest. Her shapely chest, freely bouncing while she bounces her thick body on your lap—keep doing that, you say inside your mind, letting your wandering gaze soak in the unreal scene.

She notices your intrigued eyes, rising and falling in rhythm with her tits. Subtlety was never your intention, and she probably knows from experience, as she says she does. Fixated attention is how she gets herself off, based on how she seems to respond to the lewd messages you’ve sent her in the past, and it shows when she repeats some choice remarks back to your face:

“I’d kill my boss to fuck those tits right now, you’re so goddamn sexy.”

She grips a hand around your throat, another down to the buttons of your shirt, pulling them apart.

“Let me be your personal titty towel.”

Halfway there.

“I’d suck on your tits first, go down on your delicious pussy, then fuck that wet hole of yours three times straight.”

Just like that, you’re both even. Equal in nakedness.

You’re unsure whether it’s the sight of Yerim asserting her dominance over you, tits all up in your face with a devious smirk as she bares you down to your essentials that’s leaving you short on air, or if it’s the hand cautiously coiled around your neck. Either option seems sensible enough. This is how she lives in your head rent free, just being her sassy, sexy self. Even repeating some of the same particularly questionable lewd things you’ve written to her sounds hot with her brazen tone.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she raises an eyebrow, leaning her head close, as if demanding an answer.

Really, there’s no multiple choice here. Of course you nod.

She rolls her hips upward, inches her body across yours little by little, til her dripping pussy completely shadows your view. Her hand grabs the back of your head, meaty thighs pressing between your face. Now you’re truly suffocating. Even with the rather shameful admission, she rolls her crotch on your lips, expecting you to know what to do. No words, just the expectant grind of her crotch on your face, her wet folds opening up for you to take them.

Then, she begins moaning.

Admittedly, the closest you’ve had to trying out oral is using your phone as an outlet for your tongue whenever she sends a boob photo. Thankfully, your inexperience doesn’t show when you first dip your tongue inside her folds, getting your first taste of pussy. Saltier than you expected, but fuck, you’d be lying if you think it wasn’t completely intoxicating—everything you hoped for, and more.

It incites a few expressive reactions from Yerim—some loud, others quieter—with the end result usually a sharper, deeper grind of her waist on your face, splaying her cunt for you to devour. You’ve got one hand pressed on her ass, holding her plump flesh down while the other is at her mercy, pulled by hers, forced to squeeze her breast. You won’t complain. Not when her cries of pleasure motivate you to push yourself harder.

You repeat this addictive cycle, stretch moments into minutes, minutes into hours. Even when you’ve drained her completely, you’ll still be craving for more of her; that’s how hungry she’s made you. Your tongue meets her clit, and it draws out this especially sharp whine that she’s never hit once. Not on a track. Not anywhere. She swears up a storm, juxtaposed between soft, gentle pleas of “yes, more, and you’re so good.”

In return, you take more of her, soak yourself in the continuous downpour of her slick juices freely flowing all over your mouth and tongue. As her pleasure escalates, her fingers tighten their grasp on your head, grab your tousled hair. You add soft, intimate kisses between streaks of licking her folds, and they send the young idol writhing, shaking atop you. Her words have been reduced to nothing but short, needy bursts of “please.” Even in this uncontrollable state, she gyrates her hips around you, rhythm steady, but more determined than ever to let herself go.

By the way her pussy throbs, you’re certain she’s a few critical points away from climax. It doesn’t change your plans, not one bit. You continue to lap at her sensitive folds, bask in her intoxicating heat, purposefully teasing her clit. She won’t demand that you end her —not this quickly, not when you’ve magically learned the art of giving oral to a woman under short notice.

You slowly work her through it. Your tongue dives into her slick entrance, deeper than it's ever been so far. The overpowering sensations send ripples that reach even the foundations of the bed, unlike anything it’s ever felt. Even in the wild throes of bodily pleasure, Yerim has enough willpower to stay in character, delivering a demand in her usual playful, fast talking tone. “Please do it! I’m going to cum!”

You contemplate the thought, completely drunk in her divine taste yourself, but you oblige.

Your tongue sticks to her bud, and it causes this instantaneous, elaborate chain reaction. Yerim cries a sharp cry, waves of orgasm washing down all over her body. She stops in her tracks, completely rigid, mouth wide open, and this torrential gush of slick and orgasm swamps you, drowning you so deep that it's nearly fatal. Her thighs involuntarily clench tighter, too, and you’re temporarily trapped in your own pocket dimension, impossible to clean with all the cum left behind, especially on the sheets.

The most surprising observation from her orgasm is how suddenly calm it becomes. Only the sound of your tongue licking her clean can be heard, and it’s nothing but a gentle rustle. She hangs her head up, face completely flushed, catching needed oxygen in her lungs, letting the aftermath of her climax pass over.

While her breath normalizes, she lifts herself up, moves to the side of the bed. In her wake, she’s left behind a drenched lake of slick around your face, leaking down to the muddled sheets beneath you.

“Well,” she says, panting and pausing for air. “There goes the other bed.”

It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out what she meant. Even when you’re still mindlessly occupied by the sticky residue around your lips. You let out this muffled exhale, designed to be a laugh, but it backfires in your face. Amused, she giggles on your behalf.

“Not bad.” Yerim smiles at you. Charming and cute, a contrast to what had just transpired. “I thought you said you never had sex?”

It takes you a moment before you answer back, “I haven’t. You just taste really good.”

“You still have some left on the edges of your face,” she comments, her eyes mesmerized by how much she’s cum all over you. “Let me help you clean that up.”

And she helps, but not in a conventional way. She lifts you from the bed by your torso, then submerges you again, this time at the mercy of her bosom. You’ve got your arms wrapped around her waist while you’re kissing and sucking on her Yerim’s tits, not exactly tidying up, but creating a larger mess that no amount of tongue cleaning can resolve.

In the meantime, she whispers in your ear some of your more—questionable—comments:

“They need to give her a solo debut with a very sexy concept and trust me, I’ll be the guy who breaks the world record for jerking off if they do that.”

“It must feel heavy to carry them all the time. Let me lend a hand to you.”

“The only thought I had inside my mind when I saw her is every member would milk her 3x a day so that they don’t have to go outside and buy milk to eat cereal to the point they would just drink it from the source.”

You stop. You give her this strange, confused look. Even you couldn’t believe you said that.

“Did I actually say that?”

“Yes!” she replies, quick and straightforward, unable to hide her enthusiasm, while brushing your hair. “Not gonna lie, that sent me to the floor. I was laughing so hard, Irene ran in to check up on me!”

To make things worse, she flashes this wide, toothy grin that makes you regret your life choices.

“God. I don’t wanna drink anymore.”

“Hey, if there’s any consolation, you wouldn’t be sucking on my tits and eating me out now if you never made that comment,” she says, caressing your chin and giving you a peck on the lips. As if it’s still not one of the most out of pocket comments you’ve ever made about anyone, let alone a celebrity—and you weren’t fully yourself.

“Relax. Don’t think about it too much.” Yerim pushes you back down to the bed, crawls atop you, meeting your lips again for an intimate kiss. Your hard cock, which has been left unattended for quite a while, captures your attention—and especially hers. “Lean back for me, will you?”

You comply. Involuntarily, your legs straighten, but Yerim pushes them apart, places herself at center view, seemingly ready to take you in her mouth. It makes sense; a woman with a mouth that runs like hers probably only stops when there’s cock stuffed inside them. The theory proves to be plausible when she gives your sensitive tip a delicate, yet dangerous lick, her eyes glinting at you with renewed vigor and lust.

“I told you I’d have a taste of that cock,” she says, half smug, half seductive, gloating with her brows. Your tenseness slightly recedes—until you realize your cock’s moving past her lips, in the direction of the space between her cleavage. “I didn’t say I wanted to suck on it.”

And she was right—not once has she ever expressed her desire to choke, gag, deepthroat on it.

You grit your teeth, watching your cock disappear between her shapely tits, with Yerim personally making sure you comfortably fit like a glove. You fold. It’s snug. Hot. Breathtaking.

“Fuck, Yeri,” you mutter, closing your eyes as her inviting warmth leaves you weak in the knees, trembling. You don’t realize you’ve used her stage name over her real name. “God—”

“Does this feel like everything you wanted?” she asks, tone sultry and triumphant. A little slide up sends you into a frenzy.

You nod—even though there’s no other available options. The erotic image in front of you is permanently seared into your head: Kim Yerim, popular idol and to an extend, your ‘friend with benefits,’ grinning like a maniac, slowly fucking your cock between her tits, coated with your saliva, sweat, and copious amounts of precum. To think your little crude messages on a random forum would have such long term and drastic consequences such as this.

Not that you’d want to make sense of it all, especially when she gets into a rhythm. Sliding her breasts up and down, she’s delicate, intentional, and masochistic; you’re on the receiving end of how she felt when you were slowly eating her out. She’s dangerous, teetering between the line where your cock can be safe between her bosom and where she can break you in half. You’re already falling apart—and fast.

“Holy shit, Yerim. Fuck.”

Each word you deliver is long and drawn out, especially the profanities. Heavenly music to her ears. She’s out of reach where you can pull by her hair, so you settle for the sheets instead. Your gaze wanders, travels everywhere but in her direction, because you don’t need to see the tortuous scene happening between your legs. Looking at the descending sun, this is probably the last time you’ll see the sun set in your life.

Her eyes challenge you to look at anywhere from her. Panting frantically, you find yourself at the mercy of Yerim’s whims, your cock fading and swelling into view, sticky and wet, gushing cum all over her tits. The sight drives you further mad, has you making sounds that have never been recorded—ever. She takes you in, delights in your suffering, eager for you to say the magic words.

“Ready to cum? I know you want to cum.”

Even under duress, you’re not ready to fold just yet. There’s a little stubbornness inside you fighting back, pulling all the stops to keep you from surrendering to Yerim’s demands. You close your eyes, grip on the sheets even tighter, control your breathing, but it’s too little too late. You can only do so much with two hands.

“Cum for me.”

You hold onto a particularly deep breath, desperate to cling to whatever dying vestiges of control there is left, but your fate has already been sealed from the moment you’ve allowed your cock to enter her chest.

“Yerim, I—”

The exhale you release is the most relieving and satisfying. With it, comes out a rope of thick, creamy cum splashed all over her neck and chest. The aching, violent sensation doesn’t stop; more seed spills between the warmth of her cleavage. In one fell swoop, you feel all of your energy sapped from you, leaving you completely weak and powerless.

In the gap between your climax and post-orgasm haze, you wonder if she’ll take some of your cum in her mouth, with the way she looks at your cock as it throbs beneath her chin. No. She lets it drip down her perfect naked body with a sticky white sheen that glows under the natural light piercing through the hotel’s window.

“Just like that, hm,” she comments, casually flicking the last of your withering orgasm and cum with her wrist. She lathers the slick on her fingers on her shoulder, then places some into her mouth for a taste.

After you regain a semblance of normalcy—after Yerim’s finished entertaining herself with your cum, staring at her coated body and fingers with curious interest—she rests her elbows on your knees, in the process of relearning how to bend. You sink back against the headrest, watch as the fading sun glimmers on an idol like her, destined to shine for every occasion possible—on the stage and under the afterglow of sex. She smiles, bright and wide, taking you in, as you are.

There’s something brewing, especially in the tender few minutes that follow. Something special, something more than just a spark.

“So—” Yerim runs a sticky finger on your knee, dangerously close to stirring up your cock again. “You wanna try anal with me next?”

You pause. Widening your eyes, staring back with a look of disbelief. Just when you’re about to open your mouth to reply, she adds:

“Kidding. You do know that you’re gonna have to delete those tweets and comments, right? If they find out you’re here, you’re fucked. And I mean, a thousand times worse than now.”

—————

(A/N: This was an absolute joy to write. The nature of the request meant I could go very meta with it. About time we get a proper Red Velvet full album, so perfect timing! If you're able to figure out some of the references and easter eggs, then you, my friend, are too engrossed in the Tumblr K-pop male reader smut lore. Thank you for reading!)

(P.S. If you want to have your own story/idol written, you can ask for a commission :D)

#smut #kpop smut #yeri #red velvet

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northopalshore · 14 days ago

Text

Jungkook's Midheaven Persona Chart

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I'm going to do a brief rundown on his career life as an example attachment to my MC persona chart masterlist. Mostly pertaining to his career going forward.

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ஓ๑Cancer rising (22°capricorn)

He is seen as someone innocent & genuine. People are likely to get attached to him very easily, seeing him as a beacon of comfort. Although, underneath that they see him as a very goal/career driven man. Also, this means his marriage life will also be quite prominent in his career. He may work with his wife somewhere down the line in his career. (Cancer & Capricorn)

ஓ๑Briede (28° cancer) , Groom (26° taurus) in the 7th house

You can expect him to work with his spouse eventually, I can't say for sure that she'll be singing as well just yet. However, people will acknowledge them as partners regardless of where they go or even if they are alone. His wife will gain a lot of attention or traction through him. At first, people will think of her as "Jungkook's spouse" but later, it will develop into a duo type of thing. They'll be branded; you can't have one without the other.

It's sort of like Beyoncé & Jay-Z, but their relationship feels more like MJ & Lisa Marie Presley (their shock factor). You'll never detach their image from one another in the future.

ஓ๑Eros (9° sagittarius) in Leo 1st house

He will be heavily sexualised through his career. Already happened from the early stages of his career. Most come from people he doesn't know, or international fans. They are very passionate about him. As long as his youth is with him, it won't stop, though it might also continue throughout him being a father (leo) perhaps until his children become young teens (?).

You won't see his passion, & drive at first glance (since his rising is cancer here) but once he starts working it shows.

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ஓ๑Leo in the 2nd House

Gaining money through creative work, standing out, dealing with people younger than him or even the music/entertainment industry in general. Acting could be a part of his career (whether just through music videos or more in the future).

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ஓ๑Virgo in the 3rd House

His work will involve a lot of planning, and a lot of critical thinking. Plans, events, trips will likely always have a layed out itinerary he must follow/make.

He's not gonna be uploading any last minute song anytime soon lmao.

ஓ๑Juno (12° pisces)

A lot of his current songs, including ones with BTS are love centric, or at least tell of an idealistic type of love. Something far off, though everything here is not written on a whim or inspired by specific people, but rather a vague idea of a perfect partner/soulmate. It's in the past & the future, so you'll likely see more similar concepts going into the future, this time perhaps... Inspired by his wife? Also, you can expect some of his future art to be related to past lives. Spirituality will also be something more prominent in the future. Hoho we'll see.

ஓ๑North Node (19° libra)

He was born to work with partners, whether it'd be a contract with a company, a group of close friends, or even his spouse. You will see that his name is usually going to be paired with someone/something else. He works best with collaborative events. These are what will be impactful both in his life & to others.

ஓ๑Populus (20° scorpio)

He will (have) receive(d) much attention for his voice and his skills, this is what people will often talk about whenever they hear his name, or see his face on billboards or posters while walking by. They'll think he is spectacular in a way that differs from the previous male artists in the industry he's in. Provoking both jealousy and obsessive behaviour from fans/haters.

ஓ๑Lilith (23° aquarius)

It's likely whatever it is he'll be doing going foreward will be very different from what people are used to seeing from him. Perhaps you'll see him handling darker ideas or concept. Could also be related to social events/issues. I'd say similar to Michael Jackson (in which he'd advocate a lot of the issues & mistreatment of the world through some of his songs) but in a different way compared to MJ. Especially since it's conjuncting populus. It's likely to draw up a lot of talk and controversy, where people will say "this isn't him", but do they really know him?

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ஓ๑Libra 4th house (9° sagittarius)

People he works with will likely tell you how great he is to work for, he's very kind and open minded, and perhaps a little bit of a comedian. Most of the people he'll work with will be from overseas or perhaps from different walks of life especially going foreward from here.

ஓ๑Sun (27° gemini) in Libra

He will be remembered as a lover, particularly someone's lover. People with this placement usually gain a lot of attention (& at times notoriety) for their relationship or love life. Elizabeth Taylor also has this placement, which well. Is not surprising. In his case however, he won't be known for his multiple marriages but rather just his marriage or life with his partner going into the future. Please remember that his career doesn't end in his 20s, & things that haven't manifested will likely show up in the near future.

ஓ๑Mercury (1° aries) in Scorpio

He has a very competitive way of thinking. Always trying to find a way to be the best or come out on top. Still, he isn't thinking about just himself but also the people he works with (Mercury in the 4th house). How do they stand out, without falling apart? That is something he'll likely have in his mind a lot.

ஓ๑Chiron (6°virgo) in Scorpio

The earliest stages of his career was filled with a lot of trails & errors as well as instability and chaos. A lot of the times they've found themselves at the verge of disbanding, or discontinuing their career. A lot of what BTS has gone through may have been unbearable for the average person. Even for people in their industry.

ஓ๑Sun squaring Uranus(4° cancer), Neptune (27° gemini) & Groom (26° Taurus) in the 7th house

Elizabeth Taylor's Sun also squares uranus but her's is in the 1st house which means it's more personal. Since Jungkook's Uranus & Neptune are conjuncting in the 7th house (aquarius), people are always going to assume the worst when it comes to him & his spouse. Often times however, the things said will not reflect their situation or relationships at all. The relationship isn't the problem. It's the people that talk & gossip about it.

ஓ๑Sun trine Moon (26° Taurus) in Gemini 12th house

It's likely that they will be very private with what happens within the relationship. Just to protect their union. Also, the public's perception is not going to shake them. They will remain as they are without the need to satisfy the demands of the public, keeping their personal lives to themselves.

In the context of him himself, it's likely he feels a little detached from the image that he's given, keeping his thoughts to himself most of the time. Still, he will communicate what he feels when he feels comfortable (at home). His mind is extremely active, albeit kept hidden. Since his mercury also trines moon in the 12th house.

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ஓ๑5th house stellium

It's no surprise to see this especially since he's an artist. His career is focused on creativity, art & just passion in general. His career mostly appeals to the younger generation. He'll be very fortunate when pursuing any artistic endeavour as everyone will see his talent through his face & body language. Although fun, it's not something he treats as a game.

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ஓ๑Starr (5° leo) in Capricorn 6th house

Working as a performer, gaining a lot of attention for his hard work & professionalism.

ஓ๑Boda (6° virgo) in Capricorn 6th house

This man will literally be married to his job lol. His marriage will be tied to his career in one way or another in the future.

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ஓ๑Neptune (27° gemini) , Uranus(4° cancer), & Jupiter( 12° pisces) in the 7th house

He's known for being a part of a group, under the same company (BTS). He feels very connected to them and although not related, feels like his own family (uranus 4°). This is also how people perceive BTS, a family that brings people together.

ஓ๑Groom (26° Taurus) in Capricorn 7th house

Going into the future, he'll likely be seen working or incorporating his spouse with his career as well. He likely also will brand himself as a husband at some point. Prefering to be called "My wife's husband." Lol. I can't really picture any other comparison besides Beyoncé & Jay-Z. That's the best way I can describe it.

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ஓ๑Union (19° libra) in Aquarius 8th house

The moment his relationship is revealed, it will be shocking to everyone who's ever heard of him. They will never expect him to end up with the person that he married. Their relationship will be heavily criticised and obsessed over. Still, once they see them working together, it will make sense. Their relationship will likely change the direction his career will go from there. Still, it's not like she's gonna be some random bum on the internet. I'm looking at you wannabes ;p, do you really think that fine ass would be with chu?

(You ain't no diva ♬)

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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!IMPORTANT NOTICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Before I end this post I'd like to say that they both should be left alone. Nothing irritates me more than those immitators on YouTube & Tumblr asking indirectly if they are the one. Well, I'll give you the only accurate answer you will ever get.

It's not you. Do you really think his spouse will be that shallow & manipulative? And sorry, stupid??

You are the problem in their relationship. You are the one that will give them nothing but HATE when their relationship is out.

Do you think Jungkook is dense or something? Why the fuck would he have anything to do with people like you? He'd sprint a million miles AWAY from their direction. His future spouse is not the one reading this, & that's a fact.

Don't you have a life to live? They (both JK & his spouse) are NOT you. This post is here just to clear up some misconceptions I've read about him on YouTube in the past. Sometimes I get asks that rub me the wrong way (JK related: but they act like it's not).

To all my wonderful followers who don't give a damn about it, God bless you there are still people with common sense on this earth. Interest & obsession are two different things. One is commendable, the other is delusional. Take a fucking hike.

Also, don't claw at creators on Tumblr or anywhere for that matter for information about her, or them together. Those videos & posts started for a reason that most will debate over. To me, I know it serves a purpose. It's just that it attracted a lot of unwanted attention as well.

Those with good intentions will NOT say what you WANT to hear while those with... Less pure intentions will only seek to entertain for their own benefits. I urge you to think wisely about who exactly you're getting your 'information' from. I'm looking at you YouTube. Side eye. Side eye

Tarot is NOT GOSPEL. False answers can be given by anyone, as the information can be manipulated or read with bias. Do you really think their guides/ the universe will tell just anyone someone else's business? Especially if said person has no involvement whatsoever in their relationship? The same people who advertise their channel purely to gain something out of this? If it's protected, it's protected. You'll get differing, inconsistent, ugly answers if you keep pushing.

Let nature run it's course. In the end, there will always be parts that are out of your control no matter how much you think you know.

Do not attach yourself to one thing & make it your whole point of existence. You were given a wonderful opportunity to experience life with its variety. So don't let yourselves die here.

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................. Sorry for the rant TT. I had to get this out of my chest.

In regards to Jungkook's future or information about "Mrs. Jeon", I'll answer/ start posting about it only when the relationship has been confirmed to clean up the mess people might write TT. I'll address those things you might've heard on YouTube as well. I have a lot of things I want to share, but it's best to wait it out.

Thank you for reading!

@northopalshore

@northopalshore mc persona chart 2024.

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