bigboymoozz

[bigboymoozz]

🥰

[bigboymoozz]

"empowering women by sending katy perry to space for 2 minutes" shut the fuck up. samantha cristoforetti was the first female commander of the international space station and she became an astronaut because of star trek. and there is a real chance she is a kirk/spock shipper

[bigboymoozz]

I love scam calls that are easily verifiably false. “Your mortgage is about to default.” Cool 👍 I don’t have one of those

[bigboymoozz]

oral with &team (18+)

word count: 2.9k

warnings: reader has a vulva (no gendered pronouns used except for with nicholas); oral (both giving & receiving); fingering; mentions of anal and rimming; orgasm denial and overstimulation; rough practices like face fucking; swallowing and spit swapping. not proofread. this post includes maki, he’s the last one at the bottom of the post. if that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip his portion or the entire post.

this is pure fiction for entertainment purposes only. minors dni.

k

giving:

it might come as a surprise, but his favorite position to eat you in is kneeling in front of you, especially when you’re standing up. when he comes back from tour he’ll have you right up against the wall in the hallway before you can even get your greetings out, one of your legs over his shoulder and your fingers in his hair as his tongue paints pictures of how much he’s missed you against your clit. yudai won’t stop at one orgasm unless you ask him to fuck you already, fully commited to staying buried between your legs until you’re shaking for him.

receiving:

although he’s not repressed or reserved whatsoever, for some reason yudai gets shy when all of the attention is on him. everything just feels so vulnerable, almost too intimate when he’s not pleasing you too. he keeps asking if you’re okay, voice hitching with arousal and concern as he watches you take his length deeper and deeper into your hot mouth. suddenly self concious about his moans, he’d start biting down on his knuckles or lower lip, his abs flexing as he tries is best to not fuck himself into the back your throat. he goes a little crazy when he sees his cock bulging out your cheek, every resolve he might have had about keeping his restraint breaking right there when you flutter your lashes at him before taking him deep again.

fuma

giving:

something tells me this man loves rimming. if you’re into it as much as he is, he’ll happily give your ass just as much attention as your pussy, playing with both of your holes until you’re sobbin for him. no matter where his tongue is going, fuma usually holds your legs in the air for better access. he loves to feel your thighs shaking around his head both from pleasure and exertion while his tongue assaults your most sensitive area with assertive licks. when you get close he lets your burning legs rest on his shoulders, one hand pressing down on your abdomen, two fingers of the other hand thrusting into you in a come hither motion, trying to get you to squirt. whenever he succeeds you better believe he won’t be able to get that smug grin off his face, one look at him enough for you to know that he’s reliving the moment he made you cum over and over again until he gets to have you again.

receiving:

there’s something so endearing about how fuma frets around you whenever you suck his dick - he gets you a pretty pillow for knees, pets your head gently when you start laving at the sensitive head of his cock and holds your hair back for you when you start to take him deep. for a while fuma is happy letting you set the pace. then, if you let him, he’ll take your head in both hands - not fucking your face - but slowly guiding you up and down his cock, like he’s using you to get himself off. when he’s close he pulls out to watch a string of saliva connect your lips with his red tip and jerks off over your face. desperation leaves him with almost no traces of his earlier gentleness, a little mean streak coming through. it could be an accident, that when he cums on your face with a broken geoan it get everywhere, but part of you suspects he just likes watching you scowl when spare streaks of cum end up in your hair or up your nose. if you guys can’t afford to make a mess and he’s cumming in your mouth he’ll love you forever if you swallow and show him your tongue after. and you better believe fuma kisses you every time after he’s finished.

nicholas

giving:

eating you out is a regular part of foreplay with nicholas. he gives you so many compliments during, voice already coarse with excitement. he doesn’t just comment on how good you are for him - no, this man directly talks to your pussy in a way that makes you flush with embarrassment and arousal. he tells you how pretty she is, how much he loves her, that he knows she loves him. prepare for him to prove his love with multiple orgasms for you until you’re shaking. cross your hands above your head to show nicholas that you’re giving over all control to him and he’ll reward you. pulling his hair on the other hand almost makes him submissive with the way he practically melts into your cunt, hot puffs of air hitting your skin as he pants against you, renewing his efforts to get you wet enough so he can finally get his aching cock inside of you.

receiving:

he watches your every move with heavy lidded eyes. he might be the one with his cock out, but it’s hard for you to not feel exposed when he’s locked in on you with that predatory gaze. sometimes comments on how greedy you are. even when it’s undeniable how desperate he’s getting from the feeling of your tongue playing with his sensitive tip, hips kicking and voice faltering from how close he is, nicholas will still make fun of you for reaching between your own legs and touching yourself. it’s the definition of the two of you getting off on each other - the heavy weight of his cock on your tongue twisting your belly up in knots, the visual of you on your legs for him winding nicholas up to his orgasm at record speed. after he cums he needs to feel how wet you got for him in the process, urging you to climb in his lap and lazily fingering you your own orgasm while planting wet kisses on the side of your neck until you shake apart in his arms.

ej

giving:

euijoo likes watching you touch yourself first - the way your hands teasingly move up and down your thighs, your smaller fingers spreading your glistening lips for him and playing with your swollen clit with sensitive touches - and only then following the pattern with his tongue. he’s obsessed with the way you moan for him, nudging his thick fingers inside of you and curling them to get the sweetest sounds out of you while he laps at your clit. he doesn’t even know what he enjoys the most, the way you pulse against his tongue, the way your walls grip his fingers so tight when he pushes a third one in, or the way your voice sounds when he has you right there on the edge, ready to tip over for him as soon as he lets you.

receiving:

he likes feeling your lips and tongue all over him. he looks so indulgent whenever you suck him off, his hands behind his head as he watches you lave your tongue over him with heavy lidded eyes. i’m also convinced this man has super sensitive balls, suck one into your mouth and listen to him gasp for you. likes you massaging his perineum too when you take his cock deep, hurtling him towards an overwhelming high that makes his entire body conculse. euijoo cums so much for you, you can’t tell me otherwise. you’ll have difficulty swallowing all of it the first couple of times. he’s flushed red afterwards, almost apologetic for how he’s basically covered you in his cum, but too boneless to do anything besides pulling you in his arms and allowing you to guide him through the comedown of his high.

yuma

giving:

orgasm denial galore. yuma is so playful with you that he gets cruel with it. spits on your clit, then blows cold air on it to get you to shiver. teases you with feather light touches to make your hips buck. lightly spanks your pussy to watch you writhe. when he finally goes in with his mouth though, you betree believe he’ll give you his all, tongue deep inside of your cunt and his nose pressing up against your clit until his chin is soaked with your wetness and his spit and you’re begging him to let you cum. yuma will let you grind on his face when you’re close, hands coming up under your ass to support you as he finally hands over the reigns and lets you cum just the way you need it. he likes kissing you after too, likes having you suck your own arousal off his tongue until your both soaked in spit and slick.

receiving:

he’s kind of degrading with it. yuma makes you beg for his cock, spreading glistening precum over your pliant lips and tapping his tip against your tongue before finally letting you have a taste. his voice betrays him when he’s in your mouth though, winding up higher and higher, breaking around swears and commands. his moans suspiciously sound like begging themselves when he gets close to his release, illustrating how much power you really have over him when you have his pleasure at the tip of your tongue.

when yuma is in one of his moods and he wants to fuck your face, he’ll have your head hanging upside down from the bed, hips thrusting and fingers splaying over your throat, feeling you struggle but never quite pushing down. he might plug your nose for a second when he’s close, just to hear you choke on him and he can coo at you.

no matter how rough a session was, yuma will always make sure to repay you with eating you out first and some sweet cuddles after, stroking your back until you doze off in his arms.

jo

giving:

slow, but oh so passionate. this loverboy likes kissing and worshipping your entire body before he even thinks about getting down to your pussy. when jo finally gets his lips on where you need him the most, he’s fully making out with your cunt, gently licking and sucking at you until you’re melting into the sheets, his soft tongue slowly and steadily coaxing you into sensitvity. whenever your hips buck up to chase his face, jo pulls away for a second. “relax,” he tells you, huge fingers soothing over your thighs and hips as you try to calm your racing heart. “just let me get you there and stop trying to do all the work. you know it’ll feel better like this.” it does. with jo minutes blend into hours when he laves his tongue over all your sensitive spots over and over again, drawing slow circles and tantalizing figure-eights against your quivering heat until you fall apart beneath his touch, tears springin into yours eyes as he guides you through your hifh with firm licks until overstimulation makes you push his head away.

receiving:

baby is sensitive. he’s big too, so don’t even think about trying to fit all of him in your mouth. you prefer to wrap both if your hands around him and letting your tongue play with his sensitive head, suckling and swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip until the first burst of tangy precum hits your tastebuds. it’s only then that you start slowly moving up and down his length that’s stiffening more under your touches, his balls drawing up in anticipation of his release. but you like drawing it out because jo looks so pretty with his head tipped back and his eyelashes fluttering, almost ethereal when his mouth falls open to chant your name until you finally indulge him and bring him to completion.

harua

giving:

another meanie. harua teases first and overstimulates later, he’s relentless with his pointed tongue, poking on prodding at your most sensitive spots until you feel like your nerve endings are all laying bare for him. he’s very proud of himself, relishing the way he can reduce you to a babbling mess for him without even having to pull out his cock. as gentle and indulgent as harua can be sometimes, it all flies out of the window once he really gets a taste of you. it’s obvious that harua loves being between your legs, commanding your undevided attention no matter if he’s torturing you with teasing kitty licks, indulgent swipes of his tongue or harsh sucks of his mouth. harua won’t stop until you’ve cum at least twice for him, and he’d still have the audacity to ask you “was it good for you” while you’re still having trouble catching your breath.

receiving:

even though he’s so sweet with you outside of the bedroom - interlinking pinkies when you walk aboutside, resting his head on your shoulder when you’re watching a movie, soft touches, soft kisses, everything soft - inside of the bedroom harua can be a whole different person. he loves fucking your face and watching you choke on it whenever he gets the chance to, watching you struggle and ultimately succeed in taking his cock filling him with a sense of pride and exhilaration, his reward always coming immediately in the form of another harsh thrust into your mouth and a gasp of your name. that being said, harua gets super docile and whiney when you decide it’s his turn to get teased, though. he likes it when you polish your palm over the sensitive tip of his hard cock, the slick sounds only getting louder as he leaks precum against your hand. harua can’t help but thrust his hips in these situations either, instinctively humping forward to chase the sweet relief your hands and mouth provide for his aching cock until he can’t take it anymore.

taki

giving:

he’s kind of sloppy with it because he gets distracted easily. the way you smell, the way you taste, the way your tummy and chest look from down where he’s situated… it’s a lot and taki can’t help but get so overwhelmed by his own desire that his tongue quickly loses its finesse. luckily his fingers are nimble and well-versed, especially inside of you. taki will definitely get you off - don’t you worry about that - but his mouth serves more as a lubricant than an actual tool to pleasure you. you can’t say you mind, especially when he’s so cute when he’s getting lost in you. taki will definitely rub his stiffening cock against the cooling bedsheets while he’s nose deep in your cunt, absentmindedly seeking relief for his own arousal. he might cum in his pants if he’s not careful and it’s more often than not that you have to scold him for being too selfish. his sheepish smile tells you your stern voice only serves to turn him on more.

receiving:

taki will never take you for granted. he’s always super excited at the prospect of you getting your mouth on him and he enjoys every second of you actually sucking him off. taki isn’t too worried about the faces he makes or how he sounds when you’re spoiling him with your mouth. everything you give him, he gives himself right back to you with genuine, enthusiastic enjoyment that no amount of kinky roleplay could ever top. taki never lasts long when you suck him off, you know him too well for him to be able to hold back. but if you spit his cum into his mouth right after he’s finished, he might just about be ready to go again.

maki

giving:

sit on his face. no, really, sit on his face, he’s asking you too. maki isn’t shy when it comes to eating you out, already licking a fat stripe from the rose of your ass to your sensitive clit before you’re even fully situated. another member that could be fully into rimming you if that’s what you want. with his hands steadying you ar your hips he laps at your greedily, spreading his spit and your arousal all over your center and his lower face, his tongue indulgently swirling all over your quivering cunt and building you up to an orgasm quicker than you’d ever like to admit. it feels like he is everywhere and you don’t know whether to run from it or ask for more. maki loves when you buck your hips against his face when he’s eating it, considers it a sign he’s doing his job well without you even having to tell him.

receiving:

maki always likes getting head from you, but he might especially appreciate waking up with it. likes watching you spit on it just seconds after he’s rubbed the sleep from his eyes. his phone lies discarded on the nightstand as he focuses all of his attention on you wrestling his sleep shorts further down his thighs and slowly feeding his morning wood into your warm mouth. when maki gets close, he likes holding your head down against his abdomen with ine hand and thrusting into your mouth shallowly until tears gather in your eyes, only giving you a few seconds in between before he’s back to chasing his high at the back of your throat. he definitely gets a kick out of watching you swallow. might try making jokes about him making you breakfast in bed, but you’d quickly shut him up with a pillow to the face and the demand for him to return the favor which he’ll gladly get to.

[bigboymoozz]

audio (c.jh)

pairing: bf!jongho x s/o!reader

preview: jongho thinks he can randomly send you a whimper audio with no repercussions. well, he's wrong.

tags/warnings: gender neutral reader (no gender specifications), handjob, begging, mentions of whimper audios, apologizing, edging

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.5k

song rec for this fic: desire by ateez

a/n: did you miss me

your phone dings with a text from your boyfriend. you stare at your phone before answering it. 

you: what did you send me?

he chuckled at your question. 

jongho: open it and find out!

you hit the play button hesitantly. your room fills with the sound of him moaning. your face heats up and your thighs clench. the wet sounds of him fucking his fist have you drooling. he whines your name, his voice hoarse.

jongho: do you like it?

you press your lips into a thin line. you debate how to respond for a moment.

you: come over. now. 

he can't resist the urgency in your text and immediately stands up.

jongho: okay, okay! i’m on my way!

he grabs his jacket and heads out the door, his heart racing with anticipation. jongho arrives at your house a few minutes later, slightly out of breath from running. he knocks on the door, his heart pounding in his chest as he waits for you to answer.

you open the door and grab him. you slam the door, shoving him against the wall. he gasps as you grab him and push him against the wall, his back hitting the hard surface with a thud. jongho looks at you with a mix of surprise and desire in his eyes.

“woah, someone's feeling feisty today.”

he says with a smirk, trying to act nonchalant despite the obvious effect you have on him. you glare at him.

his smirk falters a bit as he sees the intensity in your glare. he gulps and swallows hard, trying to keep his cool, but his body betrays him, shivering slightly under your gaze.

"uh...is everything okay?"

"you think you can send me a whimper audio and get away with it?" you stare at him.

jongho’s face flushes red as you call him out on his actions. he tries to maintain his composure, but his blush gives him away.

"i...uh… i just wanted to tease you a little."

he admits sheepishly, averting his gaze. you grab his jaw, forcing him to look at you. "yeah? you’re teasing?”

he shivers again as you grab his jaw and force him to look into your eyes. he feels his heart racing even faster now, his breath hitching in his throat.

"y-yes.” he stammers, his voice trembling slightly. he can't deny it anymore, the way you're handling him is driving him crazy.

"come with me." you let go of him, storming off to your room. he quickly follows you, his mind reeling from the interaction so far. jongho enters your room and closes the door behind him, his eyes darting around the room before landing back on you.

"what are we doing?" he asks, his voice still a bit shaky.

"lay down.” he raises an eyebrow at your command, but he complies without question.

he walks over to your bed and lies down on his back, looking up at you expectantly. you crawl over him, sitting on his legs. your hands rest on his waistband.

his breath hitches again as you straddle him. he looks up at you with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness, his body tensing under your touch.

"y/n..."

jongho whines your name, his voice barely above a whisper.

"i'm gonna touch you until you whimper like you did in that recording.”

his eyes widen in surprise at your declaration, but he can't deny the excitement that's building inside him. he bites his lip, trying to hold back any sounds that might escape him, but he knows it's only a matter of time before he loses control.

"y-you're going to tease me like that?" he asks, his voice shaky with a hint of desperation. you tug on his pants and boxers until they sit on his thighs.

"yes, and you're gonna love it.”

his face turns even redder as you pull his pants down, revealing more of his skin. he can feel the heat rising between you, and he can't help but arch his back slightly in response to your touch.

"ah...please..." he moans softly, unable to hide his arousal any longer.

you wrap your hand around his cock, squeezing the base. he lets out a loud whimper as you grab him, his hips bucking up involuntarily. he grips the sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip.

"oh god..." he gasps, his eyes fluttering shut as pleasure courses through him.

"better start whimpering or i won't let you cum.” your hand moves quickly, jerking him off.

his mind is a mess of sensations, overwhelmed by the feeling of your hand on him and your words. he tries to hold back his whimpers, but the more you touch him, the harder it becomes.

"n-no, please… i need to cum..." he begs, his voice breaking as he struggles to form coherent sentences.

"yeah? is this what you were doing when you were recording? imagining my hand?” your hand moves quickly, stroking him at a pace that has his eyes crossing.

he nods frantically, his body trembling with need. he can barely speak, but he manages to say, “yes… i was thinking of you… thinking of you touching me just like this..."

"did you cum thinking about me?"

he looks up at you with pleading eyes, his expression filled with shame and desire. "y-yes, i did… i came while thinking about you..." he admits, his voice cracking as he confesses his secret.

you feel him twitch in your hand and stop all your movements. "you can't cum yet.” you watch his cock twitch, the tip red and angry with need.

he whines loudly when you stop, his body shaking with intense desire. he feels like he's going to explode, but he knows he has to obey you.

"no, no, please… i can't take it anymore!" he cries out, tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes from the intense frustration.

you shake your head. "only good boys get to cum. and you haven't been very good.”

his expression turns to one of disappointment, but also determination. he knows he has to earn your approval if he wants to reach his climax.

"i-i'll be good, i promise! i'll do anything you say, just please let me cum..." he pleads desperately, his voice filled with desire.

"apologize for teasing me like that over the phone." you grip his cock harshly again.

he winces in pain as you grip him tighter, but he quickly composes himself. “i'm sorry! i'm so sorry for teasing you! i shouldn't have sent that audio without your permission. please forgive me, i won't do it again." he apologizes sincerely, looking up at you with remorseful eyes.

"more." you give him another harsh tug. he gasps at the tug, his body jolting forward.

"i’m really sorry! i was stupid and insensitive. i didn't think about how it would make you feel. i promise i’ll be more considerate of your feelings in the future. please, i need to cum so badly, i need your forgiveness..."

he begs again, tears streaming down his face now. you move your hand quickly again, smirking.

"cum.”

he finally lets go, his body convulsing as he reaches his climax. he cries out your name, his voice hoarse from the intensity of his orgasm.

"y/n! oh god, y/n..."

he collapses against the bed, completely spent and exhausted. his chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to catch his breath.

you watch as his cum lands on his shirt and your hand. you bring your hand to your mouth, licking it clean.

he watches you with half-lidded eyes, his breathing slowing down as he recovers from his orgasm. he sees you lick your hand and a weak smile appears on his face.

“you're...so cruel…” he murmurs, his voice weak but playful. you roll your eyes, glaring at him.

"says the one who sent a whimper audio with no warning.”

he chuckles weakly, knowing he's in no position to argue. “fair enough… i deserved that."

he sighs and looks up at you with a mix of affection and guilt. “im sorry again. i won't ever make that mistake again, i swear.”

"i'm not actually mad. i enjoyed it.”

he raises an eyebrow, a bit surprised by your confession. “really? you enjoyed teasing me and making me beg?" he asks, a hint of disbelief in his tone. he sits up slowly, still feeling a bit weak.

“i think it's cute when you can't control yourself.”

he blushes at your words, a small pout on his lips. “you think it's cute when i'm a mess like this?" he glances down at the mess on his shirt and grimaces slightly.

"maybe next time i should make you call me master or something." you smirk. his eyes widen in shock and his blush deepens even more. he looks up at you with a mix of horror and intrigue.

"y-you can't be serious..." he stutters, unable to believe what he just heard.

“we'll see.”

© lomlhwa 2025

[bigboymoozz]

i used to have a reoccurring fantasy about teaching cal how to kiss and i think i’d like to request some kind of cal + fingering where your hand is over his and you’re letting him get the feel for how you like it 🤚 if you enjoy the idea

i got carried away i think but indy this was just too delicious of a prompt <3 please everyone send me more cal kestis requests

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Cal's fingers are roughened by a lifetime of labor expedited into 20 short years. They're gentle, though, trepidatious as you nudge his hand further along into your cunt, squirming in place to accommodate for his lithe digits.

"It's-" His breath catches in his throat, his voice dimmed from it's usual brightness, seeming almost nervous, "It's warm."

Warm. Other men might have said tight, or wet, or pretty, all lust-driven shocks to their own pleasure centers. Cal, though, Cal who'd called your mouth and your hands the same thing, says it's warm.

Speaking of mouths, you press yours to his, coaxing him into a relaxed, messy sort of kiss to soothe his nerves. He'd been torn between rigidly puckering up and going slack-jawed at first, and you've finally fine-tuned his kissing skills into a perfect blend of both. He lets you guide- he always does, but he follows your lead, sucking gently on your bottom lip and leaning in, his head chasing yours downwards as you recline against his chest. You lick along his soft, slightly chapped upper lip as you begin dragging his two conjoined fingers out of you, and he lets you because he's lost in the feeling of your tongues brushing against each other.

When you push his fingers back in, that's when he whines, sounding almost caught off-guard by the way that your cunt has begun sucking him in. Cal is so intoxicatingly slow and tender that the brief minutes of kissing and heavy petting that you'd engaged in before this were enough to thoroughly soak you, and your cunt is eager for more of his fingers- in quantity or length, it doesn't care. You rock slightly against his hand, your slick entrance pressing nearly to his palm. He watches, blinking like he can't believe what he's seeing when his fingers have a glistening, sticky residue coating them upon removal.

You kiss fondly against his flushed, ruddy cheek, perhaps a little greedy in the way that you shove his fingers back in for more. He keens again, lips parted and breath hot against your skin, "It's- and it's soft. It's really warm and soft."

You nearly laugh at him, but you could never be cruel to him, so you nod.

"You can touch me more, y'know. You can go further in, you can spread your fingers, you can feel it however you want."

"I want-" He begins, but the firm press of something beginning to present itself against your back is enough to let you know how he wants to feel you, "I want it- I want, to- y'know, make you feel good."

You're not sure if it's his sincere, tender words that do it, or the way that his fingers have curled slightly in the abandonment of your own, but your cunt clenches around his digits, and his eyes blow open wide. He experiments, finding his footing, and you swear his pupils dilate as you squirm against the rubbing of his fingers against your walls.

"You are." You groan, turning to dig your face into his chest as he continues slowly raking his fingers in and out of your sensitive cunt, "You're doing really good, Cal, are-" You make a half-hearted attempt at a joke, "Are you sure I'm your first?"

"Mhm." He nods without hesitation, glancing up at you with his endearing eyes, "I've never- well, done any of this before."

It's painfully obvious in the way that he stammers after you take a well-timed smack at his ass here and there, but now, as he strokes his fingers inside of your cunt like he's been making your legs shake for years, he seems like an expert.

Perhaps he's just an expert on you, perhaps he's proficient in everything that he tries.

His thumb brushes your clit by mistake, and you jolt around his hand, thighs clenching to trap his hand in place. He seems apologetic at first, like he's done something wrong, but when you grab desperately for his thumb and guide it back to your clit, he watches with an intense gaze.

"Do it again. That's- ooh, that's perfect, Cal, you're- please do that again."

"Like... that?" He licks over his lips, worrying at the lower one with his teeth. Your body convulses in response, a shockwave of pleasure rippling through you, center-to-limb.

"Like that." Your voice is little more than a whine, something almost petulant as you slump your body weight against Cal's chest, "Please- please keep doing that, and- and start again with your other fingers- mmh! And- and everything together is-" He's watching your cunt intensely, it's angled upwards by your hips and he tests an especially strong press against your clit with his thumb.

Perhaps another time you'd hold yourself off, fight your impending orgasm down so that it will be more intense later, but instead you let your climax wash over you, teeth nearly pinching at Cal's shirt in an effort to restrain most of your vocal pleasure. You allow yourself muffled moans into his rough tunic, but you almost feel like you'd scare him if you screamed.

His free hand comes to wrap around your stomach, caging you gently against his body as you try not to writhe on his fingers. It's a makeshift hug, you suppose, something entirely Cal, tender and earnest and unknowing. Maybe one day he'll suck a mark against your collarbone, or tug at your breasts with his teeth, but today he hugs you, letting you ride out your orgasm on his hand.

When you calm, you push against his hand, prompting him to pull it out of your pussy. He lets you, staring still at the residue on his fingers.

"You can-" You start, ashamed of the words even before you say them for fear of scaring Cal off, "You can- taste it, if you want."

His brows raise, but he doesn't look put off. Instead, he raises his fingers slowly to his mouth, tongue padding his lower jaw as he envelops his fingers between his lips. He hums, almost thoughtful as he tastes your slick release, but he tucks his ring finger into his mouth next where some of it had spread to the space between.

His fingers shine only with spit when they come out of his mouth, and he tucks the damp hand beneath your jaw, tilting your face up for a kiss. He hesitates first, like he's asking if you're okay with tasting yourself on his tongue, and you nod instead of bridging the gap.

This time he leads, and you're happy to taste your own sex in his mouth.

[bigboymoozz]

Do you think Mace and Anakin can bond over being girl dads (I am not that anon but a part of the niche club)

gasp YES!!

(donation doodles! // tip jar)

[bigboymoozz]

"Tender"

Mand'alor!Din Djarin × Wife!Reader

Word Count: 3,020

❗ This post contains explicit content intended for adults. Do not interact if you're a minor.

read on ao3 | masterlist

Summary: You're miserable when you wake up overwhelmed by the ache of period pain but your beloved husband tries his best to soothe your pain.

Warnings: fluff and smut, soft smut, mensturation, period sex, period blood, edging, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, creampie, exhibitionism, semi-public sex(?), throne sex, thigh riding, body worship, praise kink, needy behaviour, begging, dirty talk, one reference to Bram Stoker's Dracula, mand'alor din djarin, din djarin removes the helmet, married couple, romance, alternate universe - canon divergence, din djarin is the best husband in the universe, and he's not of afraid of your blood

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! Please let me know what you think or if I missed anything!

"Where have you been, mesh'la?" 

The question comes in a baritone tone, speaking through the modulator. You open your mouth to answer, but suddenly you feel Din's massive weight on your back; his beskar-clad body presses into yours, hugs you from behind, and his arms meet in your middle like vines. This scent of his -leather, gunpowder, and sweet musk- fills your nose; your heart beats softly in your chest, knowing you're safe and sound around him. Oh, how you love him.  

He presses his helmet into the crook of your neck and shoulder, pulling you closer to him. 

"I miss you, pretty girl," he says, turning you towards him as his shiny helmet tilts towards you, his black vizor locks in your eyes. And with a sudden wave of pain crushing you, you don't even need to respond. A slight painful moan escaping from your lips is enough to give away your condition. 

That's what made you disappear all morning; you woke up in the morning stained with blood and in pain and threw yourself into the fresher to take a warm shower in no time. You didn't even know how long you spent letting the hot water soften the angry and tense muscles in your hips and back, but you remembered that at some point, you felt as if you were going to faint from the steam of the hot, almost boiling water. After the shower, you choose one of your lightest, almost transparent dresses that reveal your soft curves. Then you put on one of your black absorbent menstrual underwear and lay down on the bed, hoping the pain would go away for a while. 

Of course, your pain did not soothe even a little - your need was a little different. 

That's why you've been in the palace all morning looking for him, inch by inch, to soothe your pain and tend to you. And finally, you found him in the throne room in all his glory. 

It was Din who found out this; one day, you were in so much pain that he tried to find out through a tiny halo-pad reading a bunch of articles what could make the pain go away. He had tried all the items in the articles, one by one, to the letter; however, they hadn't worked. But there was one thing, and it was the only thing that helped your pain.

You look at him with doe eyes as your uterus aches as if being stabbed by a blunt knife.

"Cramps," you huff, "Y'know, it's the time of the month,"

"Oh, cyare," his voice drips with tenderness, "Come here."

Your heart whumps in your rib cage like a little bird.

Yes, yes, yes.

When he gently grabs you around the waist, you wrap your legs around his waist and throw your arms around his broad shoulders; he pulls you close to his beskar-covered chest. The echoes of his heavy footsteps resonate through the hallways as he carries you toward his imposing throne, an emblem of his authority and strength. As he settles into the seat, he cradles you in his lap with careful tenderness and care, almost making your heart melt in your rib cage. 

He loves you more than anything, stars above, and shows it whenever possible. 

You move your hands to take off his helmet, but he acts before you, taking it off with one hand with a hissing sound, the other broad hand holding you gently by the waist. Then, he puts the helmet on the marble floor with a slight clatter. 

When he finally shows his face, you let out a giggle.

You always get excited like the first time you see his face, like time rewinds, and you fall in love with him again and again. You indulge in a lingering gaze upon those brown eyes that look at you affectionately, tracing the faint emergence of wrinkles in the corners of his eyes that bear witness to the passage of time. With the tender caress of your fingertips, you delicately trace the contours of his plump lips, each curve an ode to the countless kisses and stolen breaths between you. The growing grayish beard beneath your soft touch bears witness to the cycles of passing by the experiences he carries in every fiber of his being.

"H-Hello, baby," you whisper, finally uttering the words hanging on your tongue, hands finding his face, holding his face dearly between your palms.

"Hey, princess," he says and leans to kiss you. 

Carefully, he cups your cheek and kisses his love right into your lips; you sink into his kiss like warm syrup, making you want more more more. Under his powerful touch, you feel so small and vulnerable, like a begging mess. 

As his tongue explores your sweet taste, he moans into the kiss, making the aching desire pooling in your belly worse. You need him.

You need him to nestle his hard cock into your clit, fucking you hard until making you see the stars.

Your neediness is as clear as day; your burning and rosy cheeks, heaving breasts, and the warmness between your legs give you away.

Din knows how hypersensitive and warm you get during your period, how delicate and swollen your breast becomes, and how soft your body gets. Maker, that's a sight, and he cherishes this every month. Also, he knows how painful it can be and how needy you become afterward. How he knows in the middle of the night, you'll reach out and beg him to press you hard on the mattress, fuck you. And in all fairness, he has no complaints about that. On the contrary, he sees how your hormones mold and bloom around him, and it drives him insane; you belong to him with everything you are. To him, to him, to him.  

He gets hard at the thought.

And no, Din was never disgusted by your period. "I'm not afraid of blood," he once told you between his moans as you writhed with pleasure under the weight of his body. "You're my flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood," he muttered into your lips, cunt-drunk and stained in red as he fucked you into delirium. "You're mine, always and forever."

When he lets you from his breathtaking kiss, you beg him as you can't handle the pooling heat between your legs. "D-Din, please," you beg in broken gasps.

"Just say the word, mesh'la," Din mutters, looking into your eyes. "Say it."

And you do; you coo like a bird, "Can you- Could you take care of me?"

"A hundred times over if you want me to," his voice deepens with desire, whispering into your lips. His strong hands work on your body, caressing the soft curves.

You still cannot believe such a cold-blooded man like him, kneaded in steel and creed, becomes how tender, soft, and caring he is when it comes to you. 

Only you.

He peppers wet kisses on your lips, chin, and neck, delicately sucking your skin into his mouth, making you mewl more; oh, how he loves the pretty sound of you whine and keen for him. As he wants to explore your soft skin more, he finds the hem of your dress and slides it over your head, leaving you bare for his hungry gaze. 

"Pretty, my pretty little wife," he mutters in awe as if he's seeing you for the first time. He can't get enough of you like he wants to live under your skin; he wants to be close to you anytime. And if it wasn't for being Mand'alor... you'd swear he'd never get out of bed, leaving your side.

He bends his head to lick your swollen breasts, his warm tongue giving you shivers and making your walls spasm. He sucks and nips your sensitive nipples, gloved hands wrap the globe of your breasts, kneads firmly in his hold, then brings them up into his warm mouth, making you see the damn stars above. Maker, every little touch of his is so overstimulating when you're bleeding.  

"Please, Din-" you babble into his hair, arching your back like a bowstring, giving him the best angle to please you more. "Please treat me softly and take care of me." He cuts you off when he lightly teeth at your stiffened nipple, making you jump in both pleasure and pain. "I will, mesh'la. I will."

As he licks and kisses your heavy breasts with hunger, your hips roll out of your control on his lap, feeling his hard cock brushing your sex, making the desire thread within you tighten. 

I need you, I need you- Just claim me here- on your throne, here, here- 

His hands move from your breasts to your waist, holding you gently and doting because he knows you are in pain, careful to support your aching hips and back. "Naughty little thing," he murmurs against your warm skin, smelling your intoxicating scent. "You're so vulnerable when it comes to me." 

Oh, but he is too. 

He loves the look of your face, your gorgeous eyes shining in awe, your cheeks burning with desire, and your plump lips; you are the only one he needs and always will be. How he loves how you rock yourself against him, trying and begging to get him. You're his adorable wife.

He knows that you're a mess, looking so delicate and tender on his lap, he moves to give you that arousal you've been chasing since the morning. One of his hands traces your soft body and goes to your cunt. Finding your sensitive clit, circles it softly over your underwear. "Right there?" he asks, looking at your eyes, knowing damn well that you're losing your mind over his touch. 

The stimulation and desire become too much to handle; squirming and crying on his lap, you stutter finally, "Yes, Din- please, please give it to me-." He leans to kiss you on the lips as he unties his utility belt and drops it to the ground, giving you access to what you need. Biting your lips, your hands move to open his trousers, pulling his sticky-tipped erection out and fist him tightly. He let out a low grunt as you jack him in your grip, making him even harder and throb in your palms, almost pushing him into pain.

"Take your underwear off," he orders, voice dripping with lust. "Let me see what's mine." You move in his lap to take it off, but you hesitate for a second. "Are you sure, Din? I have nothing to clean up," you say, knowing you both will be stained in red. "I don't care, mesh'la, you can stain my clothes," Din says as he helps to free you from your underwear - the only barrier between you and him.

He slides his palm between the softness of your legs, "How're you always so soft and so pretty for me, princess? " he asks rhetorically, without seeking an answer and soaks his fingers with blood along your slit. Then without warning, he pushes two of his leather-clad fingers inside of you, immediately sinking deep into that sweet and sensitive spot of you, fucking you hard. A soft moan escapes from your parted lips, eyes rolling the back of your head with lust. "Because I am yours, Din-" you whine, holding him harsher than you should as he licks your breasts, his scruffy beard burning your skin. With every drawing in and out of his thick fingers, you get closer and closer, and your vision starts to blur, and your legs start to shake. You're getting there, there, there. You hear yourself saying do not stop Din between your desperate pleas, but suddenly, he draws his fingers out of you with a wet, obscene sucking sound, leaving you trembling and empty, hungry for the climax. 

"Fuck, fu- Din, don't stop, do-" you cry out, begging him to continue.

"Hush, my pretty doll," he kisses gently on your cheekbone, trying to calm you down, as you wriggle in his lap like a little rag doll. "No-not fair," you say somewhere between your breaths, for he has left you empty and wet to the point of dying of desire. "Not yet, no-" Din murmurs against your damp eyebrow, assuring you. How he loves to tease you.

He hoists you higher, presses you closer to his beskar-clad chest, and you wriggle and squirm under his touch. You grind the soft apex of your thighs into his erection, like begging for his approval, searching for a green light. "Please, my king, don't tease me no more-" you whine, all breathless and pathetic, losing your cool due to the pooling desire in your lower belly. "Please, Din, I need to feel you deep inside me."

"My desperate princess," he growls as his hands find the round of your ass and position you to his hard cock, notching at the mouth of your sensitive cunt. "So wet- wet and warm for me," he utters as he helps you take him. And you take him in in in all the way inside to the end of you, the head of his cock bumps into the mouth of your womb. You choke on a moan, his name becomes savage on your tongue. "That's my girl," he moans desperately as he holds your ass and helps to ground yourself back and forth on his cock, "You're taking me so well. " Your eyes go smart, his thick cock filling you until you think there must surely not be any space left within you. "Din, that's-oh," you moan as you ride him slowly and deep, feeling every inch of him inside you. "You- You're my pretty little girl, y'know that?" he says between his breaths, kissing and nipping your neck wetly. 

"King- my king, oh-" you moan out his beskar pauldron; both desire and pain within you make you feel dizzy, almost delirious. Din, Din, Din - You chant his name in wanton moans like you want to make sure everyone in the damn palace knows it; he is yours- only yours. 

He places a warm hand on your tummy as you ride him in and out, babbling incoherent words. "Okay, it's okay, mesh'la-" Din mumbles into your neck as if he's trying to get under your skin, get as close as possible to you. "Bleeding or not, you're still beautiful and mine to fill." 

Oh, your beloved man. Your king and husband - the only person you can open your heart to.

His words burn through you, almost make you whimper. You fuck him as the width of the throne allows, getting yourself and him to the arousal you've been chasing. You feel him spread his thighs wider beneath you, deepening the angle for you. And you hold on to him harsher to sit better on his lap, your fingernails digging into his biceps painfully. "Fuck yeah– just like that mesh'la." Din groans as his throbbing cock hits that sweet spot of you, getting harder and harder within your fluttering walls. The feel of his cock throbbing and swelling within you becomes maddening. You can feel the sweet gush of wetness between your legs and thighs, staining both of you red.

The fullness and tight sensation in you become indescribable; you ride him harder as you bring yourself and him to orgasm. Your breathing becomes faster, and unsolicited moans escape from both of you. "Oh-huh, Din, I'm gonna-" you moan, but you can't think of the rest of your retort when his gloved thumb comes down on your throbbing clit and rubs it delicately.

"C'mon princess, give it to me. I need to feel it."

He can feel your impending orgasm; the way your body dances on in his lap and burning skin makes it clear to him. His rubs on your sensitive clit become harsher, and you feel your thighs start to tremble and your walls spasm-

You come undone, moaning his name; your walls squeeze and milk him as your body goes numb and trembles like it is electrified. Stars light up in your vision as you come, and the feeling of serenity moves in your bloodstream from head to toe. "Good girl, such a good girl," Din praises you, fucking himself into you over and over again through the waves of your orgasm. 

You chant his name as you float high in your orgasm, and Din keeps thrusting into your warm core as he mutters sweet words of praise against your lips. And he can't hold himself anymore; how tight and hot he feels around you, how you squeeze him tight with your fluttering walls. Oh, Maker. He finally comes deep, deep in you, hard.

"Mine-" he grits as if he is also claiming you verbally, "You're mine." 

A savage growl slips out his lips as he pulses and throbs in you, filling you with his come. Your womb contracts with pleasure as he thrusts himself into you one time again, fucking his warm come into your cervix. He pushes himself deeper and deeper as if he can do more until he comes down from his sticky, sweet, bone-aching orgasm.

After some time, finally, he touches the ground and catches his breath; he slips out of you, wet and slick, leaving you with the aftershocks of your orgasm, clenching and throbbing around painful emptiness.

"Ori'jate, mesh'la, ori'jate," Din says against your damp forehead, light-headed and cunt-drunk. Content with an earth-shattering orgasm and soothed pain, you croak a weak giggle since you're light-headed due to the climax you've been chasing.

"Such a mess we've made," you say, finally having the crumbs of power in you, looking at your thighs and legs, slick with come and blood. Caressing your hair gently, Din says, "Don't care about the mess; I love it as it is, ner sarad." You lean into his broad chest, eyelids closing with the weight of euphoria as he drapes his cape over your naked body, cradling you.

Mando'a Translations

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Ner sarad - My flower

Ori'jate, mesh'la - Very good, sweetheart

--

Period sex with Din been heavy on my mind, sorry.

Need to mention that I wrote this story at the shittiest point in my life, so feel free to comment if you see any errors in logic or grammar.

Taglist: @lahooozaherr @datenshi666 @ginger-demon-01 @nevadastarrsworld @drawingdroid @98bluecalisky @cheyplayss-blog @jellybeanxc @accrosstheuniversse @slybluesenpai @luvrxbunny @imherefordeanandbones @paysyul @ripmornings @yourlocalautisticmandalorian @myrtle-thai @angel-with-a-heart @oxkikixo @jules-1999 @jjhayhay20 @queen-of-bad-ideas @sasakipsposts @xdaddysprincessxx @libellule2001 @beletta2 @close-tfo @lake-145 @jvwdee @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @l-o-t-t-i-e @invadingtime @skeletonea @hopelessromantic727 @padfootblackswh0r3 @theerikasanchez @movietimegirl @ann782-blog1 @dindjarinsslut @butiknewyoudlinger @childofbalance @twofaced-gemini-withnobrush @lincolndjarin @dameron-grant-spector @posthop @eveningserenityyy @lentodolorosohurts @cool-iguana @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @honeymarvel @aelfgiure

[bigboymoozz]

kinda sick of people clogging up the ‘smut’ or ‘x reader’ tags with polls…

[bigboymoozz]

sorry for having a huge cock and correct opinions on everything. as if it’s my fault.

[bigboymoozz]

thinking about cockwarming with changbin. he’s a little burnt out and tired, stressing alone in his studio over their upcoming album. but he hasn’t touched his keyboard in hours, hasn’t wrote down a single lyric or pitched a single beat. cause all he can think about is his sad and lonely cock, left bare without your cute pussy warming it up. 

almost like you can sense your boyfriends’ frustrations you show up, looking just so cute donning his oversized shirt, hair messy and eyes sleepy - and he has half a mind to scold you for being up so late despite the fact he hadn’t slept in days. but you’re making your way over to sit yourself pretty on his lap and it’s not long before he has that very same shirt bunched up around your waist, panties shoved hastily to the side and pussy stretched around his cock. “that’s it baby, just like that. take it like a good girl.”

he can’t suppress the sigh of relief that falls from his lips once you sink yourself down, strong arms holding you close against his chest to keep you still - hips subconsciously lifting to fuck yourself on his cock before he’s stopping you with a small tut. “no, no my sweet girl. let me finish my work then i’ll take care of you, yeah?” and he fucking loves the whimper you let out in response, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck while his cock stays rested deep in your cunt, practically begging you to bounce on it. but he just keeps you there, pussy snug around him and feeling soso full it has you practically mewling in his lap, toes curling and nails breaking the skin of his bicep to try to keep yourself grounded - to not lose your goddamn mind just from the mere sensation of having a thick dick fill you up. 

changbin hushes your pathetic gasps with gentle words, telling you how good you are for him, how well he’s gonna fuck you once he’s done, how your cunt was practically made for him. and it almost seems like the painful twitching of his cock pressing snug against your walls wasn’t bothering him in the slightest. but he’s just as far gone as you, just as desperate to forget about his impending workload and fuck your little pussy until it’s sticky and used up and so full of cum. he’s just better at hiding it. “that’s it baby, just a little while longer.” and after what seems like hours he’s shutting off his monitor, strong hands immediately finding home on your hips, forcing you off his cock only to dip right back in, fucking you right out of your sleepy state. he won’t stop until your pussy is well and thoroughly used, until it’s filled to the brim with cum and practically spilling out past your little bud, until you’re sobbing against his chest and claiming you just can’t take it anymore. but he knows you can handle it, his girl always take such good care of him.

“my pretty girl, let me fuck you the way you deserve.”

© seungisms - all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

[bigboymoozz]

what about a vampire boyfriend with a human female on her period? He basically gets a feast that doesn’t hurt her!

Okay, pairing this with a squeamish vampire bf tho.

Your lover is a vampire, but he couldn’t even begin to imagine a world where he could hurt you in order to feed.

It pains him to see you bump your knee on something or whimper over a sore spot, you think he’d be able to sink his fangs into your neck?

No way!

But he’s starving. Animal blood only goes so far in satiating his hunger.

Usually you try your best to avoid him when you’re menstruating. After all, you know he’s squeamish and his sense of smell rivals even the best hounds.

But you’re wrong. He’s squeamish, but not with blood. He gets icked out seeing you in pain and with the thought of TAKING blood from you. His fangs being in your skin, feeling your pulse thumb against his teeth as he draws out your life essence…

Your blood isn’t the problem… hurting you is.

So when he shows up in the middle of the night, a bit pouty over you ignoring him all week, he nearly doubles over in hunger pains when he smells your blood.

And so much of it.

At first he’s terrified that you’ve been hurt. He rushes into your bedroom… only to find you fast asleep with a heating pad pressed against your lower belly.

The scent is so strong, he can tell it’s fresh and warm blood. He pulls back the blanket, sniffing your body until he finds where you’re bleeding from.

He pulls back your shorts and sees your clothed cunt, a small wet patch of blood seeping through your panties. You fell asleep before you could even put a pad on…

Your vampire lovers swallows, his throat dry and eyes wide. He licks his lips, leaning into to give your pussy a long sniff.

It’s enticing, and gods hes starving.

You wake up to him eating you out, a coil forking in your belly as you’re on the brink of another orgasm. His chin is dripping from your blood, his eyes glazed over as he feeds.

Maybe you should tell him the next time your cycle comes around.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko

[bigboymoozz]

Okay, now I am actually annoyed. Taking a break, don’t know when I’ll be back.

I made this post to urge people to speak to me like I’m a human being and not a content creating machine, and that’s still not happening.

I wouldn’t make such an issue about it if it didn’t actively take the fun out of writing for me. I shouldn’t have to beg people to remember I’m a person behind this account. To the anons who messaged me earlier, I know I don’t have to respond to these types of asks, but I do still have to see them in my inbox—there’s nothing I can do about that, and just reading them makes me lose any desire I have to share my writing.

I am well within my rights to set boundaries on MY ACCOUNT and let everyone know that I expect a certain level of respect on MY ACCOUNT. Me doing that is not the same as me ‘airing out personal grievances’ and putting a damper on ‘fandom space’. I post my writing publicly, if I have an issue with how people are talking to me, then I will publicly set boundaries. And the reason I made the post to begin with is because it was not a one time thing. I’ve noticed a pattern with the way people are approaching me in my inbox and my disdain for it has finally boiled over.

If you ever want your idea to be written, consider talking to me like you’re actually talking to a person, not like you’re placing an order or god forbid, ordering me to write for you.

I do this shit for FREE, taking time out of my OWN LIFE to write and post this content FOR FREE. You should always treat people with respect, but especially when they’re allowing you to read their work at no cost to you.

[bigboymoozz]

Tw eating disorder

I don’t know why but I like to imagine John being the safest place for you after an inpatient stint. When the voices get too loud, when the mirror is too violent, when the nausea rages, he’s there. Warm, strong hands on your shoulders, your hand in his. Sits quietly at the kitchen table and goes over paperwork while you eat. Supporting, supervising, but holding firm to your boundary. He doesn’t watch you, he doesn’t count your bites, he only takes your dishes when you’re done with a murmur- “did so good” the praise never fails to light you up, warm you, and you bask in it, leaning into his touch, calloused palm cupping your cheek.

At night, when your stomach turns sour and it’s too hard to tune out the voice telling you you’re disgusting, he turns it all off, brings you to the edge of pleasure and pain, makes you come until you’re crying, letting it all go as he holds you. “Daddy’s so proud of you, sweet girl. I know it’s hard, but you’re doing so well.”

[bigboymoozz]

chapter 4 : okay, cowboy

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

summary: when you come into his shop to get your boyfriend's car fixed, yunho can help but wonder what a hardworking, pretty girl like you is doing with someone so...pathetic. and maybe, just maybe, he feels like he could treat you better.

pairing: cowboy mechanic!yunho x female!reader

genre: non-idol au | strangers to lovers | angst | fluff (no smut yet, but there will be eventually)

rating: pg-13 (18+ for the whole series bc there will be smut eventually)

word count: 5.5k

content/warnings: pet names (sweetheart, doll, babydoll)

notes: so this took me four months 😭 but i finally finished her! the next part will be the last part (which is honestly so sad to me 😔), but if you want to keep up with the story! there will be a spinoff for mingi 💗

and thank you so so much to @coffee-addict-kitten @skzdust and @desirehorizon for beta reading this part. truly the first draft of this was so ugly, and their help was vital to this just being a well-written story 💗

Yeosang was gonna kill Wooyoung tomorrow morning. There was no doubt in his mind. In fact, if he wasn’t ogling his boyfriend's arms as he carried the man, he probably would have done it now. Getting tipsy was one thing, but Wooyoung was so drunk off his ass that San practically carried him to the car. 

“Can you at least buckle yourself?” San grumbled as he slid the drunk sack of potatoes that was Wooyoung into the back seat.

Wooyoung drunkenly grumbled something that Yeosang couldn’t quite make out before the door was slammed in his face.

San groaned and stretched his back before turning to pull Yeosang into his arms, causing his grumpy demeanor to break just a little as he melted into the large chest of his boyfriend.

“You okay?” San muttered into his hair, “You seemed kinda off tonight.”

Yeosang nodded gently, still taking in the warmth of their embrace, “I’m okay. Just a little thrown off I think.”

With a soft hum, San pulled Yeosang away from his chest, still cupping his arms with his hands, “Can we talk about it? I’d hate to have to get my information from him.” He nods towards the car where Wooyoung’s passed out in the backseat.

“Later?” Yeosang frowns and looks up into San’s eyes.

San smiles lovingly down at him, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead, “I just don’t want you to dwell on it too much. I worry about you.”

“I know…” he whispered with a little pout.

“Cute,” San muttered, cupping his cheek and leaning down to kiss him for real this time.

And they would’ve kept going if not for the sound of footsteps on the gravel approaching them from behind. 

You looked like a mess. Your face was streaked with mascara and your hands shook as you held them to your chest. Yeosang blinked at you, peering behind your body trying to see if anyone was with you. 

His brows furrowed when he realized you were completely alone. He knew Mingi and your friend had disappeared to the lake two hours ago but, where was Yunho?

A shaky hand wiped at your cheek, “Do you know where Wooyoung is?” Your voice was soft, but something in your tone made Yeosang’s heart hurt—though he wasn’t going to admit it.

San spoke up first. “Oh he’s a goner,” he chuckled, nodding toward the backseat of his boyfriend’s car. Yeosang knew he was trying to keep the mood light despite the tension, and though he appreciated it, it didn't do much to lift the uncomfortably stale air between the two of you.

You bit your lip, clearly trying to rethink your options.

He hated seeing you like that. The way you picked at your thumbs nervously and shuffled your feet, boots scraping against the gravel. Yet, despite the part of him that begged him not to, Yeosang spoke up, “Do you…need a ride?”

You looked him in the eyes for the first time in years, clearly shocked that he had offered without you even needing to ask. With a curt nod you cracked as you muttered, “Yeah.”

Yeosang was going to kill San now, too–beautiful biceps and two year long relationship aside. Because even after he’d offered you a ride, he didn’t expect to be sitting alone with you on the way to your apartment, fighting with himself to ignore your constant restless fidgeting. His knuckles turned white against the steering wheel.

But San had insisted. He’d dragged Wooyoung out of the car, leaving Yeosang with nothing but a kiss on the cheek and a “see you later” before he disappeared into the labyrinth that was Wooyoung’s apartment complex.

And the ride was just as unbearable as he thought it would be. He watched you fidget with your hands in your lap as you stared out the front windshield. 

It will be over soon. He told himself. 

He’d drop you off at your place, make sure you were safely inside, and he’d pull out of that parking lot like nothing ever happened. Like you’d never run into each other by some twisted string of fate. Like you had stayed out of his life for good.

But the longer he sat with you, despite the dreadful silence filling his car, the more he wondered how you were. He was glad to hear that you and Yeonjun broke up. And he imagined that, had things ended differently between you both, he would’ve called you up to go out for drinks to celebrate.

Fuck he missed that. The late nights with you, him, and Wooyoung spent on the floor of his dorm room just talking for hours and drunk off of beer that Wooyoung had stolen from his brother. 

And the countless late nights cramming for exams at the very last minute, surrounded by empty cup noodles and a concerning amount of energy drinks. Nothing productive ever came out of those nights, but the hours spent together laughing and cursing yourselves for waiting until the night before to start your studying were always some of Yeosang’s favorites.

And though you had still been dating him at the time, Yeonjun was merely just a sliver of your life. Yeosang had assumed it was a fling. Your first love that you would be over in a couple months; it would hurt but you would have friends there to help you through it.

It wasn’t that Yeosang hated Yeonjun—at least not at first.

He was a friend of Wooyoung’s, a bandmate, and though he seemed a bit brash and over the top, he cared for you.

You went on dates, received flowers, attended his shows. Everything was normal. 

But Yeosang could see that you were blinded by love. And in the three year overlap of your friendship with him and your relationship with Yeonjun, he could see what you couldn’t.

Yeonjun was possessive. But not in a way that was meant to protect you. He hated your friends, including Yeosang. He never said it outright but it was pretty obvious to everyone besides you. He took you on “dates” which consisted of inviting you to his shows but never letting you backstage because, as it turns out, he didn’t want you around his friends either.

It alarmed Yeosang if he was honest. Every day of your third year he could feel you drifting away. You flaked out on nearly every hangout, and you were nowhere to be seen whenever he asked if you could talk.

The final straw had been Wooyoung and Yeonjun’s fight. A rather anticlimactic affair looking back, but the aftermath was irreparable.

Yeonjun had lashed out at Wooyoung because he decided to leave the band. They were graduating in three months, and he had more things he needed to focus on. But Yeonjun had seen more for the band‘s future than anyone else ever had, and he’d seen the whole thing as betrayal. A lashing out from Yeonjun wasn’t a rarity, but this time it had gotten physical. And he nearly broke Wooyoung’s nose in the midst of his fit. 

And when Yeosang told you the whole thing…well, you sided with Yeonjun. You told Yeosang that he was stressed and going through a lot with his family. That had been the final straw for him. In hindsight, Yeosang knows he should’ve stayed by your side, knowing that leaving you behind would only make you more dependent on the man you felt so adamantly that you had to defend, but he couldn’t help it.

That night had ended in a screaming match between the two of you, young, stupid and incredibly abrasive. One that ripped apart the seams of your already fading friendship. Opening up scars that seemed like they would never heal.

And he never saw you again after that.

He could tell by the way you bit your lip and kept sending him testing glances as he pulled into your apartment complex that you wanted to talk to him. And he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want that too. He missed you, he really did, and it hurt him more than he’d like to admit when he saw the way you and Wooyoung reconnected instantaneously. 

He hadn’t even put the car in park when you turned to him and finally spoke, “Do you wanna come up? Just for a drink?”

Yeosang sighed, glancing over at you, finally making eye contact with you.

“Please,” you begged, “I just wanna talk.”

“Fine,” he muttered before shutting off the car and slipping out of his seat.

You really never thought you’d see him again. It had crossed your mind when you thought about how things could have been different–the idealized version of your future where you had picked your friends over your shitty boyfriend.

And it embarrassed you to no end every time you thought about that fight. The way you had just thrown everyone aside, trying to rationalize and find a logical reason why Yeonjun would do such a thing. Looking everywhere and grasping at straws for the answer. 

When the dust had settled and reality kicked in, you had wished with every fiber of your being that you had reacted differently. But it was too late. 

You could’ve swallowed your pride and confronted your mistakes. But no. You simply let the friendship fade. And before you knew it, two people that had meant everything to you for years were gone.

Except here he was. Albeit reluctantly. But here in your apartment nonetheless.

“Is tea okay? That's all I really have,” you asked softly, “I haven’t gone grocery shopping in a couple weeks.”

He nodded, looking around your apartment which was scattered with the remains of your failed relationship, “Tea is fine.”

As you set up the kettle on the stove, you peered over at him, wondering what on earth you were supposed to say. You hadn’t exactly had a gameplan when you asked him to come up here. It was merely a desperate attempt to get him to speak to you again.

To your surprise and relief, though, he spoke first, “So you broke up.”

It was more of a statement than a question. He was just pointing out the obvious.

You hummed in acknowledgment, “Mhm. About two weeks ago now.”

“I’m happy for you,” his voice came out a bit dry and tired, but you could tell it was sincere.

“Thank you,” you smiled gently, “It should have happened years ago, but I guess I’m just too good at ignoring the warnings.”

He looked at you. Really looked at you. His dark eyes piercing through your soul.

“Yeo…” you started, trying to still your breath, “I’m so sorry.”

His eyes closed as he took a deep breath, composing himself, “Can I be honest?”

You nodded, “Of course.”

“I’m not mad at you anymore. Not for defending him,” you went to cut him off but he raised a hand, “You were in a bad relationship. Blinded by love. And you were wrong, we both know that. But honestly, after all these years, I don’t give a shit about that anymore. Hell, Wooyoung got over it in a week.” His eyes started to water just a little, “I just…I don’t understand why you never came back. And why now that you broke up with him do you think you can just show up again? Was it not worth it to risk losing him?”

You bit at your lip. Everything he said, you had thought before. It all had swirled around in the confines of your mind over and over and over again. But hearing it directly from his mouth just made it so much more real.

Slowly, you poured the water from the kettle into the two pastel blue mugs sitting next to each other on the counter, a soft puff of steam wisping off the top of them.

“I…” you started, staring down into the slowly steeping cup of tea in your hands, “I just couldn’t face you after that. You didn’t deserve that, any of it. You don’t deserve to have friends that throw you under the bus and toss you aside for loser boyfriends who are far from worth it.” A desperate sigh fell from your lips, “And I really didn’t think we’d ever get to talk again. Not like this.”

You slid the tea across the counter, and he gently picked it up, picking up the tea bag and swirling it around the cup. “And listen, we don’t have to make up or be friends. You don’t even need to show me the kindness you already have tonight. But please, I just want you to understand that I know I fucked up. And I know the way I treated you is far from okay. You deserve a hell of a lot more than what I gave you back then.”

He kept his eyes trained on the mug–still fidgeting with the string of the tea bag, “You surprised me tonight. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, either. Surely not because you’re…hanging out with one of my friends.” A soft exhale passed through his nose, “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous of the way you and Wooyoung fell back into things so fast. I wish that was us.”

“Me too,” you murmured. 

You could see the wheels inside his head spinning. “I want to try again.” He spoke softly, making sure to look you in the eye. “Us. We had a good thing. And maybe it will never be the same. But…I have to believe that our friendship is worth giving each other a second chance.”

The tears you were holding back started coming up once again. And you couldn’t help the way they started falling immediately at his confession. “Really?” Your voice broke. 

He smiled softly, setting his mug down on the counter and meeting you on the other side of it. Gently, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you against his chest. You hugged him as tight as you could, afraid to let go. 

And as he held you there, stroking your hair, you couldn’t help but feel as if maybe you hadn’t fucked everything up tonight. 

Out on the dingy balcony of your apartment, Yeosang sat beside you in one of the flimsy lawn chairs that had survived this many years by only a miracle. 

You held the now fully steeped cup of tea in your hands, “Yeo.”

He hummed against his mug, taking a small sip.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

You tapped your fingers anxiously against the ceramic mug. “Do you think he hates me?”

Yeosang sighed, “Yunho?” You nodded. “I don’t think that man has ever hated someone in his entire life.”

You shook your head, “You didn’t see the way he looked at me when I rejected him.” An exhausted groan fell from your mouth, “He’s just…he’s so wonderful and helpful and perfect. He doesn’t deserve to have someone beside them who’s still reeling from the grief of a nearly decade long relationship.”

“You sure do like determining what people deserve, don’t you?” You gave him a sidelong glare.

He smiled against his cup, “You didn’t hear the way he was talking about you earlier. I mean, we were all a bit skeptical since you two only just met but the way he talked about you…I don’t think there’s anything you could do to make him hate you.

You frowned, “That just makes me feel worse.”

“I know,” he remarked, “But listen, I know you're scared. But do you trust my judgment?” 

“Of course.” 

“Yeonjun is not even half the man that Yunho is. And I know it’s terrifying to start something this new with wounds so fresh. So I understand if you need to take the time to heal. But I want you to know that that man will treat you worlds better than Yeonjun ever could.” He sighed, “And trust me I’ve spent enough time with both of them to know that.”

“It’s just so soon,” your brows furrowed in frustration, “I haven’t even been out of a relationship for a month. How can I possibly start a new one now?”

Yeosang leaned back against his chair, “You know what I think?” He glanced over at you. “I think you're scared. You were over Yeonjun well before you two broke up. But you’re scared of the commitment of another relationship.” He scooted closer to you, “Which I completely understand, by the way. San and I’s initial relationship was far from serious. But you know…when you like someone the desire to commit to them more and more grows on you.”

“But I can’t do that to him,” you stirred your words over in your head, “Not commit, that is.”

Yeosang laughed. A deep, genuine laugh, “Oh, trust me, I know you well enough to know that a casual commitment is not your thing. I just mean that I think you need to get over it.” He placed a hand on your knee, “You are going to regret it for the rest of your life if you let things end this way.”

He straightened up, “And frankly, I don’t really want to deal with him being mopey for the next several months because of this.”

You giggled, “Fine…I’ll reach out.”

“Thank you.”

“Have you missed me coming to you for endless relationship advice?” You nudged him jokingly.

A smile spread across his face.

“Every single day.”

After watching Yeosang pull away from your apartment, you had a million thoughts swirling through your head. 

You thought about calling Yunho a hundred times, but every time you picked up the phone you wondered what the fuck you would even say to him. And it was two in the morning. Would he even pick up? And if he did, how could you ever face him? How could you sit there in the comfort of your home and tell him that you made a mistake when you weren’t even sure if you did? 

You wanted him. You really did. Every part of you yearned to be taken care of like you knew he would. But you just couldn’t do it. 

Yeosang was right. You were scared. Terrified, even. Now, more so than ever. Because after seeing the way his heart broke in two when you pushed him away, you couldn’t imagine doing that to him again.

Fuck. You ran your fingers through your hair, frustrated. You needed some air.

You glanced down at the keys on the counter, picking them up and heading out the door to where your car was waiting in the parking lot.

When you turned on the music and rolled the windows down, it felt like everything was just a tad clearer. The fear washed away as you pulled onto the highway, and you started imagining what a life with him could really look like. 

Sweet, well-planned dates. Ones where he walked with you along the river, listening to your stories, holding your hand, and collecting flowers for you along the way.

Fancy, intimate dinners. Where he’d dress up in a clean suit with a flashy belt and that signature hat on top of his head. And he’d guide you with a hand on your lower back, before leaning down to your ear to tell you how beautiful you looked.

And late nights in his truck. The two of you lounged in the bed, looking at the stars. And he’d hold your palm to his lips so you knew just how much he cherished you.

The thought of his lips brought you back to just a few hours earlier. Where he had held you up close to him, his hands very respectfully gripping your body. And god his kisses. The sweetest, softest, and most passionate thing you had ever experienced.

The way he had whispered “Doll” against your lips had felt so personal. So special.

And you felt like a fucking idiot for throwing it all away.

But as soon as the unsavory thoughts started their way back in, you heard a loud thud from under the hood.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you cursed and pounded your hand against your steering wheel. And you watched in horror as your speedometer slowly fell toward zero. 

What the fuck? Why now? 

You looked around as you pulled the car off the side of the interstate. Nobody. Not a soul. In fact, it was so dark that the only light you could clearly see was that of your headlights.

And that’s when the true terror started to kick in. You were on the highway. Alone. With no way to get home by yourself. Anyone could take you, and none of your friends would notice anything was wrong for several hours.

Oh god. You started to lose control of your breathing. And as much as you tried to compose yourself, the darkness outside your windshield was enough to make you start thinking the worst thoughts.

And just as you thought it couldn’t get any worse, it started to rain. A lot. So bad you could hardly see anything outside the car. And the loud sound of the heavy downpour against metal consumed your brain.

You picked up your phone and your hands shook as you looked down at it. Down at the only person you could think to call.

He picked up on the third ring. “Hello?” His voice was deep and groggy from sleep, and you suddenly felt bad for waking him up.

“Yunho? I’m so sorry. I know it’s late,” you were trying to still your breathing enough to formulate words.

You heard the sudden rustling of sheets, “It’s okay, Doll? What’s wrong?” Oh god, of course he could hear you shaking.

“I’m really sorry, I just–”

He cut you off, “Sweetheart, stop apologizing. Tell me what's wrong.”

“I’m stuck.”

“Stuck?”

“My car broke down on the highway,” your tears were starting. God this was so humiliating. “I was just going for a night drive and the engine cut out of nowhere. And now I’m just stuck on the interstate, and it’s pouring.” You were fully crying now. The fear coursing back through your veins, “Yunho, I’m scared.”

Through the phone, you heard him slamming a door and running. “Send me your location. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Okay–” your voice cracked as you pulled your phone away from your ear and dropped him a pin.

Yunho had practically launched himself out of bed when he heard your voice through the phone. You sounded terrified enough as is, but the loud sound of the rain against the roof of your car was enough for him to know that something was up.

He praised and thanked his past self for not breaking out that six pack that Mingi had left on the counter, although he seriously considered it.

His visibility was less than ideal, especially on the highway, but he made do. The highway was practically empty, meaning he could go as fast as he needed to, and he just prayed that there wouldn’t be a cop on his route to you.

Soon enough, although not for him, he saw your hazards blinking off to the side of the road. He pulled up in front of your car–so you could see him clearer–and put his car in park. Barely checking to see if anyone was coming before flinging the door of his truck open.

His heart pounded as he jogged up to your little car. Through the windshield, he could see you hunched over, hands clasped in your lap so tight that you were shaking.

Trying not to scare you even more, he knocked on the window. You jumped. But when you saw it was him, he watched as your eyes filled with relief. And before he could gesture for you to roll the window down, you had flung open the door and barreled into his arms.

“Oh,” he let out a little sound of shock, before wrapping his arms around you, “It’s okay, Doll. I’m here.”

And he would’ve stayed like that forever, with your head against his chest and hands gripping the back of his sleep shirt, but on the interstate in the middle of the night was far from where he wanted to hold you.

“Sweetheart,” he spoke loudly over the rain, “Do you have an umbrella?” You cringed and shook your head.

“Let’s get in my truck then.”

You nodded and let him pile you into his passenger seat. When he pulled himself into the driver side, you opened your mouth to speak, to apologize he was sure, but he cut you off. “I think we’re gonna have to call a tow truck. I would check the engine and all, but it’s too dark and too rainy for me to even see anything.”

“Okay,” you said softly, “Thank you, Yunho.”

He glanced over at you. Fuck you were so beautiful. Even with your hair and clothes soaked and your eyes tired from lack of sleep, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. It broke his heart a bit to see you out here, alone, clearly trying to reason with your own thoughts.

“Are you alright?” He muttered, pushing a bit of hair away from your face. Your eyes fluttered as his fingers brushed your cheeks.

“Mhm,” you tried to assure him, “I was just…thinking.”

“Yeah?” he cleared his throat, “Can we talk about it?” You looked up out the windshield at the pouring rain outside, “Can we get out of here first?”

The shop looked just how you remembered it. And it smelled just the same, too. A faint stench of motor oil and rubber floated in the air. Yunho disappeared into the back room to grab some towels, and you thanked every being under the sun that you were given a break from that soaking wet t-shirt that hugged every muscle on his chest.

You hated to admit it, even to just yourself, but Yunho's whole “rescue” was way more attractive than it should have been. The way he held you for just a brief second and the way he took control of the whole situation so quickly, you couldn’t help but feel more and more regret from earlier that night.

When he came back out of the back, he had changed into a white tee and jeans  and he held a t-shirt in one hand and a towel in the other. But all you could focus on was the way he looked with his hair still damp and sticking to parts of his forehead. 

“I have an extra shirt if you want it. I don’t know if it’ll fit but…” he offered the two items to you.

You smiled, trying to hide how flustered his appearance was making you, “That’s okay. I’ll just take the towel.” A small shiver ran through you when your fingers brushed his.

Patting your face dry, you watched as mascara came off on the towel, and you were suddenly very conscious of how much of a wreck you must’ve looked like. Turning away from Yunho, you continued to dry yourself off.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, reaching his hand out, “Can I help you?”

Hesitantly, you looked between him and the towel in your hand before handing it over to him. He started with your face, wiping off what you assumed to be the last of the mascara on your cheeks, before moving to your hair and gently patting it dry. 

“You look beautiful right now, by the way,” he murmured as he continued to run the towel over your body, patting your back and wiping your arms.

Your face grew hot, “Thank you.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” 

When he stopped moving the towel, you finally glanced up at him and saw him looking down at you. His hair still sticking to his forehead and a couple drops of water falling from his lashes. He looked too good to be true. “Doll…” he muttered, slipping his hands down your arms and to your back and slowly drifting towards your waist.

He held your waist just as gently as he had earlier that night, the tips of his hair still damp and dripping water onto your face. Your breath hitched when his face tilted down toward yours.

“If I kiss you…are you gonna run away from me again?” he whispered with a shaking breath.

You shook your head, eyes trained on his lips, and your voice came out in an almost unrecognizable whimper, “No.”

“Good,” he muttered. His hand slid from your hip to your lower back, pulling your body up against his.

He pressed his lips to yours yet again, but this time was different. Gone was the soft gentle kiss of a slightly tipsy Yunho who was testing the waters. 

The man kissing you now wasn’t that Yunho at all. He grasped at your clothes in desperation. Groaning softly into your mouth. You tangled your fingers in his damp hair, pulling at the brunette strands causing him to shiver against you. 

His hand slid under your wet t-shirt, exploring the damp skin of your back, before he gripped your hips again. This time pushing you toward the bed of his truck, wrapping an arm around your back and lifting you up onto it.

Without once breaking the kiss, Yunho’s hands explored your thighs, and he let out a soft moan when you wrapped your legs around his narrow waist.

His lips traveled across your jaw, nipping at the skin and leaving little marks in his wake. Your fists gripped onto his t-shirt as he trailed down your neck.

“Yunho…” his fingers tightened on your thighs when the moan of his name reached his ears.

He kept his lips on your neck, “God you’re so pretty when you say my name like that.”

You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, the bare skin of your thighs pressing into the waistband of his jeans. He let out a low grunt against your neck when you rubbed up against him, right below his belt buckle.

Fuck you needed him. You needed all of him. Whoever this version of Yunho was, you wanted to cherish every second with him. Even if he looked at you like he was gonna tear you apart.

Rolling your hips against him made him tighten his grip on your hips, “Don’t tease me, Babydoll.”

Oh. God you were gonna pass out if he called you that again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you felt your core tighten in a way it hadn’t in years. 

Everything about him was fogging your brain. His damp hair tousled under your fingers. The heat of his breath against your skin. The way he tossed you around and picked you up like it didn’t even phase him.

He was so big in every way, even the ways you hadn’t yet been able to see. His presence towered over you, making you feel so completely overwhelmed by his everything. And the way his hands explored every inch of your exposed body in seconds made it so evidently obvious how massive he truly was.

“Oh? She likes that, does she?” He chuckled, and pulled away from your neck. Pressing his forehead to yours, sliding a hand to your neck and brushing his lips right above yours, “Hmm? Babydoll?”

You whimpered under his touch, “Yun…”

He pressed his lips to your nose, “You’re so fuckin’ cute, sweetheart.”

Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips approached yours. And when he finally kissed you again, it was like everything had fallen into place. His lips against yours were the only thing you’d ever need, but you were willing to take anything more that he was offering.

When he pulled back, he looked back into your eyes, cupping your cheek in his hand. “Doll,” he whispered softly, “As much as I’m enjoying this, we should stop.” You whined, grasping at his wrist and letting him cradle your face, “Please, Yun…”

He chuckled, “Come on, baby. You know me well enough to know I’m not gonna fuck you for the first time in the back of my truck.”

A small frown formed on your face, but he cut you off before you could speak, “You’re not talking me out of this one, sweetheart.” He settled your hands on your thighs, “Let me take you to dinner first. And then we can have all the fun you want. Okay?”

“Will you at least kiss me again, now?” “Of course, babydoll. I’ll give you all the kisses your sweet heart desires.” And he kissed you one more time as you stayed perched on the edge of his truck.

You ruffled his still wet hair when he pulled back, “Okay, cowboy. We can play by your rules. When are you taking me to dinner?”

“Tomorrow.”

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[bigboymoozz]

PAIRING: dilf!ceo!anakin x f!reader

SMUT ❦

ANAKIN SKYWALKER didn’t even flinch when you climbed into his lap. His chair just creaked softly beneath both your weights, the city lights casting reflections across the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. His black tie was loosened around his neck, sleeves rolled up just enough to show those strong forearms you loved to cling to.

“—no, I said I want the numbers by noon, not excuses,” he said firmly, sharply, edge of his tone screaming in frustration, with his jaw tight, into his Bluetooth earpiece,

Yet, one hand had already slid up your thigh under the hem of your silky little dress like it was normal. Like you weren’t slowly sinking down onto his exposed, free cock (from your love making before), right where anyone could walk in, really.

You bit your lip, trying so hard to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape. You were already so full of him, stuffed to the brim, and he hadn’t even moved yet. He turned his head just slightly, letting you press soft, open-mouthed kisses against the hinge of his jaw. The golden skin of his was warm, rough in all the right places, letting his veins poke against his throat. And he definitely smelled like expensive cologne yet with a hint of vanilla.

“Uh-huh,” he muttered into the mic, though his voice dipped just slightly—because you’d rolled your hips just so right, and your tight little cunt was already clenching around him. “Then figure it out. I’m not repeating myself.”

You whimpered ever so faintly against his throat, hands gripping his shoulders as you started to move—slow, teasing bounces that made your thighs tremble. He was so deep, so thick, so good it made your head spin.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he whispered under his breath, free hand coming up to palm your tits through your dress. “You wanna be loud? Gonna make me hang up on this idiot?”

You shook your head quickly, lips brushing over his ear as you kissed down the side of his neck. You couldn’t help it—you were obsessed with him. His voice, his scent, his age, the way his skin tasted when you sucked a mark just under his collar.

“Just look at you,” he mumbled, clearly not caring if the guy on the line could hear the shift in his tone. “Riding me like a good girl… quiet as a mouse. Fuck, this little hole feels good.” you clenched at the praise, nails digging into his shoulder as you bounced a little faster, breathing ragged against his neck.

“That’s it,” he groaned lowly, finally muting the call for a second just to grab your face and make you look at him. “Gonna come for me, baby? Huh? Riding daddy’s cock like this? Look at that pretty face…”

You nodded desperately, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes from the pressure and the pleasure, as he thrusted up into you once—hard enough that you had to bite down on his neck to keep from crying out.

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[bigboymoozz]

a girl does start to feel optimistic in a patch of sun