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#[ there's just so much about them that scratches the brain so fucking good ]
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Highway Heat
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Summary: Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and the trucker you flag down offers more than just roadside assistance.
A/N: Lord oh lord… I tried to be good i swear, i really tried to behave. The thing is my sweet beta reader @hautecouture02 requested a little roadside encounter one shot with Joel, specifically asking for FLUFF, and i swear on everything holy I tried my best to keep it PG… but sometimes things don’t go as I planned. So here, take this absolute filth of a one shot that’s little more than PWOP. ENJOY!!!!
Warnings: As previously stated, this is pretty much PWOP, Trucker!Joel i know nothing about trucks lol, maybe some dub!con at first but the internal dialogue shows hella consent, groping, fingering, a bit of praise and a bit of degradation, pet names like so many of them im not gonna list them all almost too many pet names if you believe in such a thing, grinding, oral male receiving, deep throating
Masterlist
You’re a good person—hell, a great person even. You give your spare change to homeless people, you donate to the puppy shelter every once in a while, you hold your friend’s hair back when they’re throwing up in the back of the club. You’re definitely not the type of person who deserves to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, sweating buckets despite wearing nothing but a spaghetti strap tank and the tiniest pair of shorts you own. This feels like some kind of cosmic punishment.
It is, undoubtedly, the worst possible time for your car to stop working. You’d been putting off the usual checkups on your car for months, knowing full well it was overdue for an oil change, a tire rotation—or whatever men who know their way around a toolbox always say. Your ex used to handle all of that for you, always acting like it was his job to make sure your car ran smoothly. He was that kind of guy who would go out of his way to make your life easier—didn’t mean he was above cheating though.
So now, you’re stuck in your geriatric Honda Civic, the AC busted and the engine refusing to start.
After a few minutes of trying to will it back to life, it’s clear you’re stranded.
You step out of the car, and the heat hits you like a goddamn slap to the face. The road’s deserted, no signs of life for miles, and of course, your phone has no signal. Perfect. Just fucking perfect. You glance down the road, hoping for a miracle, when you spot the rough outline of a truck—a big one, maybe a sixteen-wheeler—coming up in the distance.
Relief washes over you for about two seconds before your brain kicks in, running through every horror movie scenario. But it’s not like you’ve got a buffet of options, so you throw up your hand, waving the truck down as it rolls closer.
It’s a beat-up old thing, paint chipped and covered in dust, but it comes to a slow stop right behind your car. The door creaks open, and out steps a man.
He’s tall, broad, with a face lined with age and tan from long days under the sun. The net cap he wears lets a few of his longer dark curls peek out, the front pieces overpowered by graying hair. He sports a faded plaid shirt and jeans, a pair of well-worn boots kicking up dust as he steps toward you. His dark, intense eyes size you up like you’re part of the landscape he’s used to navigating.
“You alright there, sweetheart?” His voice is deep and gravelly, but the drawl is the star of the show, thick and sweet like honey.
You clear your throat, trying to keep your frustration in check. “Car broke down. Won’t start. No service either.”
He nods slowly, like this is exactly the kind of situation he expects to find out here. “Well, good thing I’m passin’ through.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes a little at that, but desperation makes you bite your tongue. “Think you could take a look?”
He stares at you for a moment, long enough that you wonder if he’s going to offer any help at all. But then he lets out a low sigh, scratches the back of his neck, and walks over to your car, popping the hood like it’s second nature.
For a while, there’s nothing but the sound of him tinkering under the hood, the occasional grunt or muttered curse as he checks things out. You stand there awkwardly, feeling the heat bearing down on you, watching as beads of sweat gather at the back of his neck.
Finally, he steps back, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Shit’s runnin’ on fumes. When’s the last time you had it serviced?””
You shift, feeling stupid. “A while. My ex used to handle it, and, uh… I’ve been busy.”
He gives you a look, something between amusement and pity, before shaking his head. He leans against the car, arms crossed. “I can tow you to a shop in the next town, but it gon’ be a ride.”
You blink up at him, surprised at his offer. “You don’t mind?”
“Nah,” he says, with a shrug, “I’m headin’ that way anyway.”
He moves back to his truck, grabbing a few chains and a tow hitch from the back. Within minutes, he’s hooking up your beat-up Honda Civic to the rear of his truck, working with the ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times before.
“You sure this is safe?” you ask, watching him as he tightens the last chain.
“As safe as it’s gonna get,” he replies with a shrug, brushing the dust from his hands. “Ain’t no mechanic shop out here, so this’ll do ‘til we get to the next town.”
You hesitate, then eye him. “You’re not gonna, like, chop me up and throw me in a ditch, are you?”
He chuckles at that, a nice gravely sound. “If I was, don’t think I’d tell ya, sugar. But no, I ain’t in the business of chopping people up.”
You look at him for a bit longer before sighing. “Fuck it, let’s go.”
He turns, heading back to his truck, his broad back facing you and making it a hell of a lot harder to concentrate
“Name’s Joel, by the way,” he says, glancing back over his shoulder as he opens the passenger door for you.
“Thanks, Joel,” you say, stepping up into the truck’s cab, the cool air from his AC hitting you like a blessing. Maybe your luck hasn’t run out just yet.
You sink back into the seat as he climbs up on his side of the cab, letting the icy air wash over you. There’s something else prickling at your senses though—something that has nothing to do with the temperature. It’s him.
Joel’s glances are obvious, a little too long, lingering like he’s sizing you up. Normally, it’d make you roll your eyes, maybe even tell him off. Old guy like him eyeing you up is nothing you’re unfamiliar with. But today? With the way your body feels sticky and tired, and the way the breakup has left you all out of sorts… you’re almost enjoying it.
You’ve been craving attention and the shitty one night stands with guys from dating apps have done nothing to satiate that need. It’s been months since anyone has touched you and that rational part of your brain that would be yelling at you to be aware of the sleazy old trucker who just picked you off of the side of the road is sounding real quiet right now.
“So…” His voice pulls you from your thoughts as he shifts in his seat, resting one hand lazily on the wheel. “Where you headed?”
You hesitate, eyes on the road ahead. “Just… trying to get home.”
He hums, slow and deliberate. “Home, huh? Got anyone waitin’ on you there? Boyfriend?”
The word slices through you, sharper than you expected. You tighten your jaw, glancing out the window. “No. Not anymore.”
Joel makes a sound, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. “Well, ain’t that a shame. Pretty thing like you, all alone.”
You should hate the way he says it, the way his eyes flicker toward you like he’s just waiting for an opening. But instead, there’s a strange warmth pooling in your stomach, your pulse picking up in a way you’re not proud of. You shift in your seat, crossing your legs like it’ll somehow tamp down the growing tension in your body. He doesn’t miss it, his smirk growing a little wider.
“That line work on most girls?” you quip, trying to keep things light.
Joel chuckles, the sound low and dangerous. “Depends on the girl. But you look a little… flustered.”
Your cheeks heat up, and it’s not just the sun this time. “I’m not flustered.”
“Sure about that, darlin’?”
You glare at the open road, biting your lip as you try to ignore the way his words are messing with your head—and your body. It’s been way too long since anyone’s looked at you like this. Really looked at you.
The silence stretches out as the truck rumbles along the deserted road. You try to focus on anything but the tension in the air and find it’s impossible. His presence feels inescapable, it fills the cab wrapping around you, pressing down on every nerve.
“You never told me,” Joel says after a while, breaking the quiet. “Where’s home?”
“Texas,” you say quietly, your voice a little steadier now. “But I’m not in any rush to get back.”
“Family trouble?” he asks, his eyes flicking toward you again.
“Something like that,” you mutter. “It’s complicated.”
He hums in response. “Don’t I know it.”
You shift in your seat, crossing your legs, catching Joel watching you out of the corner of his eye. His gaze lingers a little too long on your bare thighs, and there’s a flicker of something dark passing over his face, but he says nothing.
You want to ignore it—God, you should ignore it—especially since you’re stuck with him for a while longer. But the rising heat in your body and the quickening pulse beneath your skin make it hard to think straight, harder still to make good decisions.
So you bite.
“You gonna keep staring, or is this part of your charm routine?” You cock a brow, trying to ignore the way warmth crawls up your neck.
A slow smirk curls at his lips, but he doesn’t look away. If anything, he leans in closer, his hand resting just near your leg, making the air between you buzz. “You think I’m layin’ it on too thick?”
“Little bit,” you quip back, though your voice betrays you with how soft it comes out. You bite your lip, trying to stay sharp, but his eyes flick down to the movement, and the pulsing need low in your stomach tightens. “It’s not working, though.”
His smirk widens, like he’s enjoying this far too much. “Funny. Seems to me it’s workin’ just fine.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the way your heart races when he shifts closer, his fingers brushing against your leg. The touch is light, almost casual, but it’s enough to send a shiver racing up your spine, your breath catching in your throat.
“You can roll your eyes all you want, doll. It don’t change the fact I can see what you need, clear as day,” he purrs, his voice dropping lower.
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” you snap back, though your words lack the heat you want them to have.
“Little bit of attention.”
He reads you too well. It drives you insane. “I don’t need anything from you. Just get me where I need to go.”
A quiet chuckle rumbles from his chest. “That so? ’Cause the way you’ve been shiftin’ in that seat says otherwise.”
You bristle at his words, but the truth sticks like a thorn. There’s a reason you haven’t told him to stop, a reason you haven’t shut this down. You’re tired, frustrated, and the way his eyes keep grazing over you… you can’t stop wondering how easy it’d be to let him pull you under, to let him take all your worries away.
“You’re losing it, old man,” you shoot back, even though you know it’s a losing game. He sees right through you, but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna make it easy.
“Am I?” he purrs, his hand sliding up to rest fully on your thigh. “So, you don’t want me touching you like this, darlin’?”
The way he says it—slow, deliberate, laced with that sweet, thick accent—it’s all innocence, even though everything about it screams otherwise. You know you’ll be hearing that “darlin’” in your head later, when you’re playing with yourself.
You smirk, giving him a little more rope. “I didn’t say that.”
He hums, eyes flicking between the road and your legs. “And I’m guessin’ you wouldn’t say a word if I moved my hand higher, would you?”
Your legs part just slightly, almost like an instinct. Barely noticeable to anyone else. But not to Joel.
“Look at you,” he drawls, a shit-eating smirk spreading across his lips. “Already makin’ it easier for me.”
You’re about to fire back, ready to keep this banter rolling, when his fingers slide higher. A soft sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it.
“You ready to stop actin’ up, or we still playin’ cat and mouse, pretty girl?” His eyes lock on yours, dark and unwavering.
Your pulse quickens at the challenge in his voice, your breath catching in your throat. His fingers are still on your thigh, warm and rough, and it’s messing with your head. You know you should stop this now, make him pull his hand back, but you’re not sure if that’s what you want.
“I’m not acting up,” you murmur, trying to hold on to some sense of control, even though his touch is making that damn near impossible.
His grin widens, like he’s got you exactly where he wants you. “Mhm, sure you ain’t.”
You glare at him, but it’s weak. Pathetic, really, and the worst part is he knows it. He knows how to get under your skin even though he has known you for half an hour, knows exactly what buttons to push to unravel you just enough to keep you hanging on.
“I mean it,” you snap, though your voice wavers. His hand shifts slightly on your thigh, fingers curling just enough to make your stomach twist into knots.
“I wanna believe you,” His voice is low, a quiet rumble that vibrates through you, all the way down to where you’re aching for him to touch you. He leans in a little more, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off him, smell that familiar scent of worn leather and something dark and intoxicating. “But you keep lettin’ me touch you. Kinda sends a different message, don’t you think?”
Your heart’s pounding in your chest, the steady rhythm of it loud in your ears. You don’t know how to answer, don’t know if you want to answer. Every rational thought in your head is telling you to stop, but your body isn’t listening.
Instead, you shift slightly, your leg pressing into his hand, just enough to encourage him to keep going. His eyes darken, and a slow, dangerous smile tugs at his lips.
“Thought so,” he mutters, and then his fingers start to move again, sliding higher, testing the boundaries you haven’t set.
You bite your lip, trying to hold back the sigh that’s clawing its way up your throat, but it slips through anyway. He hears it, of course he does, and the satisfied gleam in his eyes makes your face flush with heat.
“You wanna tell me to stop, now’s your chance,” he murmurs, his voice soft but carrying an edge of challenge, like he knows damn well you’re not going to.
His gaze shifts between the road and you and it almost seems like every time those eyes are back on you they become darker.
You glance at him, your heart in your throat, and there’s that flicker of hesitation—you should say something, should stop this before it goes any further—but the way his fingers are brushing higher, dangerously close to the ache between your legs, makes it impossible to think straight.
So you just meet his gaze, and you don’t say a word.
His smirk grows, and his hand drifts even higher. “Good girl.” This time he fully gropes your thigh, groaning like he’s been waiting to unleash this. “You wanna take these off for me, sweetheart? Let me give you as much attention as you want.”
He must have some psychic hold on you because you follow his instructions with no hesitation this time. Your fingers eagerly unbotton your shorts and pull the zipper down, lifting your hips to shimmy them down.
He looks at you for a lot longe than he should taking into account he’s currently driving a beast of a vehicle. “Lord above… you’re a sight and a half, darlin’”
He goes back to massaging your thigh, making circles with his thick fingers, going each time higher. Once he reaches your panties he stops and just rests his hand there, right at the edge of where you want him most. His fingers teasingly brush the fabric, enough to make you gasp, but he doesn’t go any further.
“You’re gonna have to ask for it,” he rasps, his voice thick with something darker now. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”
His words are like a key turning in a lock, and your resistance crumbles. You can’t deny it anymore, not when his hand is right there, so close to what you need, your entire body burning up under his touch.
“Joel…” you whisper, your voice almost pleading now, barely more than a breath.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, his hand pressing a little more firmly, his fingers tracing along the outline of your heat through the fabric. “That’s what I wanna hear.”
Your breath stutters, and your hips shift on their own, pressing into his hand. You’re barely hanging on, the tension between you two crackling like a live wire, but he’s still holding back, waiting for you to give in completely.
“Please…” you finally manage, the word spilling out before you can stop it. It’s humiliating and liberating all at once.
“Please what?”
You let out the shadow of a moan. “Please touch me.”
Joel’s hand slips under the fabric, his fingers finally finding your core, and the groan that escapes him sends a shockwave of heat straight to your core. “Good girl,” he breathes, his voice like gravel as his fingers start to move in slow, torturous circles.
Your head falls back against the seat, a whimper escaping your lips as he finally gives you what you’ve been craving. “Jesus, Joel…”
“Feels good, huh?” he rasps, his eyes flicking from the road to you, watching the way your body reacts to every touch, every motion of his hand. “Told you I know exactly what you need, baby.”
You’re melting under his touch, your body humming with the pressure of his fingers moving against you, his voice guiding you deeper into the haze of pleasure. You’re not even sure what’s more intoxicating—the way he’s touching you or the way he’s talking to you, that low, commanding tone unraveling you completely.
“That’s it, sweetness, grind on my fingers, make that little pussy feel good” Joel growls, having a harder time keeping his eyes on the road now.
“Fuck… that feels you good da-“ you stop yourself before you’re able to finish the word. Your ex didn’t like you calling him that, so you usually kept that particular kink under wraps, but something about Joel is making it surface back up.
He looks up at you, pupils blown out. “Say it… say wha you wanna say baby.”
You lose all restraint and moan loudly. “It feels so good, daddy.”
“That’s right, babygirl.” He moans “Daddy’s fingers make your pretty cunt fucking drip don’t they?”
His words send a wave of pleasure through your body, a mixture of shame and intense arousal surging in your chest. You’re too far gone to stop now, letting the haze of lust pull you under completely.
“Yes,” you whisper, the word slipping out like a confession. “So fucking wet.”
Joel’s fingers move faster, rough and skilled, coaxing you into a rhythm that has you arching your back against the seat. His other hand grips the wheel tight, knuckles white, and you can tell he’s barely hanging onto his self-control, but that only makes it hotter.
“Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ dream,” he growls, voice thick with desire. “Been wantin’ to ruin you since the minute you sat your pretty ass in this truck.”
The vulgarity, the way he talks to you—it should feel wrong, but instead, it’s like gasoline thrown on the fire already burning inside you. You grind down harder on his fingers, chasing the high he’s offering, the tension building fast in your core.
You glance over at him, his jaw tight, eyes darting between the road and you, and there’s something so filthy about the way he’s trying to keep it together while driving, the way his control is slipping. You want to push him, make him lose it completely.
“You’re losing it too,” you pant, breathless, pushing your hips into his hand. “Can’t even keep your eyes on the road, can you?”
His gaze snaps to yours, dark and predatory. “Careful. Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll pull this truck over.”
The threat in his voice makes you shiver, heat pooling low in your belly. You’re right on the edge, your body strung tight as a bow, every nerve lit up under his touch.
“Do it,” you challenge, voice breathless and wrecked.
Joel’s eyes flash with something dangerous, his hand gripping your thigh so hard it almost hurts. Without another word, he swerves the truck off the road, gravel crunching under the tires as he pulls into a secluded spot off the highway.
Your heart is pounding, adrenaline mixing with the arousal as he throws the truck into park and turns to face you fully. The look in his eyes is feral, like he’s done holding back, and you brace yourself for what’s coming next.
“Such a little attention whore, baby,” he growls, unbuckling his seatbelt with one hand, the other still teasing you between your legs. “I’m all yours now.”
In one swift motion, he pulls you onto his lap, your thighs straddling his hips, the weight of his hard length pressing against you through his jeans. He is big, a lot bigger than you expected and it makes your mouth water,almost like your body is showing you how badly you need him in a million and one ways.
His hands grip your hips possessively, eyes locking with yours as if daring you to make the next move.
You don’t hesitate. You grind down on him, both of you letting out low moans at the contact. The friction sends sparks flying up your spine, and you can already tell this is about to be the kind of reckless, dirty, no-going-back encounter you’ve both been craving.
Joel’s hands slide up your back, fisting in your hair as he pulls you down to feast on your neck. His lips trail down, biting at the sensitive skin there, and it’s too much, too intense. You feel like you’re going to combust right here in his arms.
“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he mutters against your skin, one hand slipping between you to push your panties aside, his fingers slipping through your slick heat again. “Filthy little slut, letting a stranger put his fingers inside you. Gonna make you come so hard you forget your own name, pretty girl.”
Your hips buck against him, the promise of release so close you can taste it. “Fuck, Joel, please…”
“Try again. You know better.” his tone is firm and commanding, all the previous playfulness gone.
“Please daddy, let me come”
“That’s it,” he groans, his thumb circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure, pushing you right to the edge. “Come for me, darlin’. Let me feel this tight little whole clench on my fingers.”
The way he says it with such authority, has you unraveling in his lap, your entire body trembling as you come hard against his hand. Your vision goes white, pleasure crashing over you in waves as you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.
Joel watches you, his eyes hooded and hungry, soaking in every second of your release. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers until you’re shaking from the aftershocks, your body limp and boneless against him.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and satisfied as he finally pulls his hand away, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you. “Tastes even better than I imagined.”
You’re still catching your breath, head buzzing from the intensity, but the way his hardness presses against you makes it clear you’re far from done. It’s not like those other times when finishing a guy felt like an obligation, when the effort barely felt worth it because they didn’t take the time to get you there first. But Joel? Joel made you come so hard you can’t help but want to return the favor. It’s not a chore—it’s something you crave.
“My turn,” you murmur, fingers already working at the button of his jeans.
His grip tightens on your hips, eyes darkening as he watches your hands move, but there’s a flicker of restraint. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart. Can’t have this beast of a truck just parked in the middle of the road.”
You shift back onto your own seat, lifting your leg off his lap to give yourself the space you need. The desire to make him feel just as wrecked as you burns in your chest, so you lean down, your gaze steady on his as your fingers trail lower.
“You can drive,” you say, voice low, teasing. “I’m not stopping you.”
Joel’s eyes flash with something dangerous, his jaw ticking like he’s fighting with himself. For a second, you think he’s going to tell you to stop, but then he huffs out a breath, shaking his head with a low chuckle. “You’re trouble.”
You smile up at him as you feel him start the engine again, your hand slipping lower, teasing him through his jeans.
Joel’s breath hitches as your fingers brush against him, a low growl vibrating in his chest. His hand tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as he tries to focus on the road, but you can tell he’s losing the battle.
His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he tries to keep his cool, but you can see right through it. The way his body is responding to your touch, the way he’s barely holding it together, it only spurs you on.
You undo his jeans and pull the zipper down, feeling the heat radiating off him. His breath stutters, and his hand slips to grip the side of the seat, trying to ground himself as you free him from the confines of his jeans.
You wrap your hand around him, feeling how hard he is, how thick, and the groan that escapes his lips sends a thrill through you. “Fuck,” he breathes, eyes flicking between the road and you, his control slipping more by the second.
You lower your head, your lips grazing his tip, and Joel’s entire body tenses. His hips buck up, instinctively searching for more, and you can’t help but smirk as you take him deeper into your mouth.
“Holy shit,” he groans, his voice rough and ragged, his hand instinctively flying to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”
But even as he says it, there’s no hint of him wanting you to stop. He keeps urging you on in slow, measured strokes. The tension in him is palpable, and you can feel the way his control is fraying with every flick of your tongue, every inch you take him deeper.
His breathing grows ragged, and he glances down at you, eyes dark with heat and disbelief. “You’re so pretty with a fat cock stuffed in your mouth baby, look at you ”
You hum around him, the vibration making his hips jerk again, and the low groan that rips from his throat sends a fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through you. He’s unraveling, right in front of you, and you’re loving every second of it.
You pick up the pace, your hand working him in tandem with your mouth, and Joel’s growl turns guttural, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Right there, darlin’ girl, don’t stop…” he hisses, head tipping back slightly as his hips move in time with your rhythm, chasing the release that’s so damn close.
His eyes flick between the road and you, pupils blown, struggling to stay on course even as his focus is being torn apart by you.
“Fuck, baby… I’m not gonna last if you keep—” He cuts himself off with a harsh groan, his hips bucking again, muscles taut and trembling as he loses the last shred of his composure. He’s completely at your mercy now, and it’s making him wild, his control slipping fast.
You don’t let up, your hand dropping lower to play with his balls, and he’s right on the edge, teetering dangerously close. His breath comes in ragged bursts, and his body tightens under you, his hips jerking harder, more desperate now.
“Where do you want it, baby?”
Instead of answering you take him deeper down your throat, your nose burrowing in the dark curls at the base of his cock, his smell so musky and intoxicating it makes you dizzy.
“Shit, shit—” Joel’s voice is a strangled growl, and then you feel him pulse in your mouth, a low, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he finally comes undone. He’s barely holding onto the wheel, the truck swerving just enough to make your heart race, but it’s clear he’s past caring. He spills hot and hard into your mouth, the sound of his release drowned out by the pounding of your own pulse in your ears.
You keep going, milking him for every last bit, until he’s trembling beneath you, his breathing ragged and uneven. When you finally pull away, he’s still gripping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing anchoring him to reality.
“Holy fuck,” he mutters, his voice rough and wrecked. His eyes flick down to you, wild and wide, before darting back to the road. He lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “Best hitchhiker I’ve ever picked up, that’s for damn sure.”
As if on cue, the truck finally pulls into the shop, the hum of the engine fading, the weight of what just happened still hung thick between you two. Joel cuts the ignition, his hand lingering on the key for a beat too long, like he wasn’t quite ready to step back into reality. He realizes his now soft cock is still out and starts to zip himself back up.
You try to gather yourself, smoothing your clothes and brushing a hand through your hair as if it’d erase everything that had gone down on that highway. You can tell it’s gonna stick with you for a good while longer though.
Joel clears his throat, glancing over at you with a look that was somehow both satisfied and conflicted. "Well, we’re here," he mutters, but his hand was already fishing in his back pocket for something. "Here." He hands you a crumpled business card, his name scrawled across it with a number underneath. "In case you run into any more car trouble or, y'know... anything else."
The corner of his mouth twitches, like he knows damn well this had nothing to do with the rugged old thing and everything to do with the heat still simmering between you. You take the card, trying to hide the smirk tugging at your lips.
"Thanks," you reply, pocketing it casually, though the way your heart raced gave you away. "For… you know, all of it."
He just gives you that signature look of his—half-smirk, half-smolder—and with that, you slide out of the truck, legs still feeling like jelly as you walked away. You didn't even need to turn around to know his eyes were glued to your retreating figure.
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ladykailitha · 15 hours
Text
Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 5
Hey guys!! Things are finally starting to move in this story, I'm not sure how much longer we have, but I just started Eddie's training, so whooo!!
In this we have Eddie being dumb, fixing it, and then apologizing properly! He can be taught!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
~
Robin smacked the back of Steve’s head as she walked past. “No staring. It’s creepy!”
Steve ducked his head and blushed. He had been caught staring so many times today that, yeah, it was starting to be a little creepy now. But in all fairness, Eddie was staring right back. A thought that sent Steve spiraling. But like in a ‘oh shit, that’s hot!’ way.
Which he really, really needed to tamp down on, because yes, the guy was eighteen, but like barely.
“You should just go talk to him,” Robin encouraged gently. Because for all her teasing, she knew how important it was for Steve to talk to him about his swimming.
Steve nodded. He had time until his next class. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He walked up to Eddie and flashed him his patented Harrington smile.
“Hey, you’re Eddie, right?” he said warmly. “Robin tells me you like to swim on Saturdays, yeah?”
Eddie blinked at him for a moment. “Um, hi. Yup! That’s me. My mom used to call me her little fish.”
Steve grinned. He liked that. He wished his mom had taken that kind of interest in his swimming. “I saw you swimming when I was helping Joyce set up for the party last weekend and you were really good! Did you compete in high school?”
“Nah,” Eddie said with a shrug. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t get someone to take me that early in the morning so I stopped. Competed in middle school, though. I was decent enough, I guess.”
Steve was shocked. To have to stop just when you hit your stride must have been quite the blow.
“That fucking sucks, man,” Steve said with a grimace. He scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “You ever think about competing on the national level? Because I really think you could.”
Eddie rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Yeah, right. I couldn’t afford the coach let alone all the traveling I’d have to do to make it to meets. I’m going to have to pass on that one.”
“There’s actually a program here for people who can’t afford it,” Steve hedged. “Robin used it when we both first started out.” He was fighting back the urge to start biting his nails.
Eddie’s eyes narrowed and Steve gulped. “Is that so?” He nodded. “Well ain’t that nice. Still not interested.”
Steve wished the floor would swallow him or that pool would suddenly flood or that he’d get a brain aneurysm and die, right there on the spot. He pursed his lips together and nodded with his whole upper body. He turned on his heel and walked away.
When he was about to the other side of the pool, Eddie called out, “Who would even want to coach me?”
Steve turned around with a grin. “I would.” Then he spun on his toes and walked out of the pool area to the cool fresh air of the hallway.
~
Once Steve was out of the pool area and into the hall, he had a full on panic attack. He sank to the floor and held his head in his hands. Why the fuck did he offer to coach Eddie? He didn’t know Eddie, he was afraid of deep water, and he hadn’t even talked to Joyce yet.
It was a real mess now, but the words just forced themselves from him and now he wants to gobble them back up. Well maybe they’ll just avoid each other from now on. They had done a pretty good job up to this point, they could just continue as normal and forget all about how Steve made a fool of his himself.
Then slowly he began to come out of his panic attack to the sounds of soft words and the gentle rubbing of his wrists with their thumbs. His breathing evened, his heart rate dropped, and his eyes fluttered open.
The eyes looking back at him were warm chocolate brown and deeply concerned. The angel in front of him said something but Steve couldn’t hear. Then all at once all the sounds came rushing back into the hall. And suddenly there were more people in the hall with him than he thought. In addition to Eddie who was the one holding his hands, Robin and Joyce were there too.
“I think he’s coming around,” Joyce said gently as Steve’s eyes focused on her. “Hey, there, Steve. Are you okay now?”
Steve gulped, nodding. He was feeling better. In fact he didn’t have a pounding headache like he usually had after an episode. “My head doesn’t hurt.” He looked over at Robin in confusion. “Why doesn’t it hurt?”
“Uh...” Eddie said hesitantly. “I might have something to do with that. I used some calming techniques my friend’s dad showed me.”
Steve turned to him, mouth open in awe. “Oh. Thank you.” He didn’t know what to do with that because technically it was his conversation with Eddie which caused the panic attack in the first place. But maybe that’s why Eddie helped, because he knew he’d caused it. That was a nice thought, Steve supposed.
Eddie smiled and stood back up. “I have to get back to work. You take care of yourself, okay Stevie?”
Steve nodded and Eddie slapped his hands on his knees, standing up. He muttered goodbye to the two women and then wandered off.
As Robin helped him to his feet, she said dryly, “I take it the conversation didn’t go well.”
He barked out a laugh causing Joyce to look back and forth between them in confusion. So Steve put her out of her misery. “I was telling him that he was good enough of a swimmer to compete, but I think he thought I was mocking him or something, because he kinda blew me off.”
He rubbed his temples for a moment before adding. “I even offered to coach him.”
Joyce blinked at him for a moment. “You offered what now?”
When he looked up both Robin and Joyce were looking at him with large, wide eyes and slack jaws. “Yeah, that’s kinda what started the panic attack if I’m honest. I know I am like the worst person for the job with all my...” he waved his hand helplessly. Then he snapped his fingers. “Issues. Anyway. It was nice of him to help me out after all that.”
“Dingus...” Robin said with a heavy sigh. “What were you going to do if he accepted?”
Steve grimaced and ducked his head. “Have you help me?” He looked up at her through his eyelashes and batted them, pouting.
Robin pushed his shoulder. “Disgusting!” Then she gave him a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. “Of course I’d help you.”
“I think it would be perfect,” Joyce blurted out. They both turned and looked at her. “This place could use the publicity if I’m honest. There are other pools in Indy that have been bringing in the bigger names. So if Eddie accepts and starts training under five time gold medal champion Steve Harrington...”
“Then this place could start bringing in the big names again,” Robin said. “Not to say that Steve isn’t a big name of his own,” she added when Steve’s face twisted into something like offense.
Steve shook his head. “Which isn’t going to happen because he said no.”
Joyce and Robin sighed. There was that. But they knew they shouldn’t go trying to pressure Eddie into it. Plus, despite how good he was there was no telling he’d be on par or better than his younger peers.
Steve and Robin left Joyce standing there, pondering her dilemma.
~
Eddie chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. He was grateful that the technique worked, but he was pretty sure that he had caused the attack in the first place. Which was... not good. He could have handled the offer to have him trained to compete a little better. Steve was paying him a compliment and he threw it back in his face as charity. He didn’t need charity not from no one.
There was no two ways about it. He was going to have to apologize. Which was never his strong suit. But he’d do it. He just wasn’t going to take Steve up on his offer. He would see about staying on here as paid help because then he could still have access to his beloved pool.
It took him a couple of days but finally their schedules matched up and Eddie was on his break and Steve had time between classes again.
“Um, hey,” he said timidly, sauntering up to Steve. “I just wanted to apologize for being a bitch on Monday. I was rude and that wasn’t fair.”
A slow smile spread out over Steve’s face. “Thanks. I did just spring it on you without an preamble, so...”
Eddie laughed. “Yeah, there was that. But it still was mean and I should have been nicer.”
“Well, you made up for it by helping me with the panic attack afterwards,” Steve said. “I’d say that makes us even.”
“A panic attack I’m pretty sure I caused.”
Steve winced, confirming the worst of Eddie’s suspicion on that one. Steve rubbed his chin thoughtful. “I’ll tell you what, if you teach Robin and Joyce that technique you used to pull me out of my panic attack, then we’ll be even.”
Eddie smiled that sweet closed mouth smile that melted Steve’s insides when he saw it. “Sure thing I can do that. On Saturday before the crew swim. I’ll teach them both.”
Steve’s shoulders relaxed. That was going to be so useful, having multiple people know how to get him out of an attack would make it easier for him to go out in public. Something that was very limited after the incident in Beijing.
“That’ll be great, thanks.”
“You should come too,” Eddie suggested. “I know you don’t like being in the pool, but you could come hang out and have a little fun for a change.”
Steve gasped dramatically. “What do you mean? Isn’t teaching beginning classes meant to be fun?”
Eddie’s eyes went wide. It took him two seconds long than it should have to realize that Steve was joking him. He pushed Steve’s shoulder playfully.
“At least with us,” he teased, “we won’t try and drown you, deliberately or otherwise.”
Steve tilted his head to side and looked at him in confusion. Where the urge to bite those cheeks came from, Eddie will deny knowing until his last breath. “I saw that snotty teenaged little shit try to pull you into the pool. That’s fucked up at hell.”
Steve’s smile was blinding. “Fair enough. I like getting to sleep in on Saturdays, but we’ll see.”
Eddie grinned back. “I never used to get up this early for school. But ya know, keeping out of jail is pretty inspiring.”
“I could see that, yeah,” Steve agreed. “It was the one downside being on the swim team in high school.”
“You went to a regular high school?” Eddie asked tilting his head. “I would have thought after getting fifth in your first Olympics you would have gone to a special school for kids that are huge in sports or whatever?”
Steve blinked at him for a moment. “Do they have schools like that?”
“They do for like actors and shit,” Eddie said with a shrug. “So I assumed they would have something similar for the jocks.”
Steve laughed. “Yeah, no. That would have been preferable.” He shook his head. “But no, it’s much more cut throat that than that. Pretty much, schools try and poach students from other schools to make the best sports teams.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, really?”
“Yep!” Steve said beaming at him. He looked up at the clock on the wall. “Look, my next class is about to start. So I really should get going. Especially with Joyce’s son in the class, I don’t want to be late.”
“Why is he starting so late?” Eddie asked. “I would have thought with Joyce being in charge of the rec center and his older brother literally being a trainer too, he would have been in the tots class.”
Steve nodded. “She didn’t get the manager position until five years ago and Will was afraid of the water by then. So they just waited until he was ready.”
“So he’s ready now?” Eddie asked curiously.
“Mhmm,” Steve hummed. “All his friends are going to be in the class with him, so he ready to hop in the pool with them.”
Eddie smiled. “That’s cute.”
That surprised a huff of laughter out him. “Sure is. But don’t tell him that. He’s at the age where cute is akin to baby and well...”
“He’s too old for that?” Eddie finished.
“Yeah.”
“I feel that,” Eddie agreed. “Have fun in your class, and remember you can always make it look like an accident.”
Steve laughed out right at that and waved goodbye. Eddie watched him go feeling better about the whole panic attack thing. Now all he had to do was make sure it never happened again. Or at least not by his own big fucking mouth.
~
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witherbythesword · 6 months
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I feel like a fucking feral animal that needs to be pinned down by the throat and stabbed.. i mean fucked argh no what i wanted to say.. is i need to be fucking sta
#nsfwtext#loosing my marbles#thinking about fucking provoking them#acting out#scratching them#to make them violate me and fuck me to pieces because i need it so so much#but they just think it's cute#poking fun at me for being so desperate for them#being pinned by the throat i slowly start getting weaker and they praise me for being good and relaxing#fucking me oh so slowly and it's NOT ENOUGH#but it's all I am going to get#struggling#trying to fuck myself back into them#but it just makes them press harder#until I am all still#like a little doll#teary eyed from my endless need and how feeling them rut into me so gently doesn't give me any relief.. it just makes it worse#feeling like going crazy and breaking down while they push a finger into my mouth to suck on#slapping me and then going back to chockeing me.#feeling my arousal built more and more#wanting them so much it doesn't matter if it's pleasure or pain begging to be kicked or fucked harder or cut or punched or skull fucked#just anything to truely feel them#argh#i am about to start biting people i need this#thinking about the times someone made me hurt so bad during a scene i felt like I need to throw up#like me brain was all pain and somehow it still got worse with each hit#that pain is so bad i feel like blacking out#saying yellow and#how just one touch was enough to flip the switch and what was pain just a second before was now arousal uggh am so needy for pain rn#when you are so full of pain in a scene it's like your consciousness morphs and all there is is you and pain and your partner
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orcelito · 1 year
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I am so curious what my stats r gonna be for Spotify wrapped. I only started using it in 2021 and so I only know my things for 2 years. Both years, Stray Kids was my top artist bc they're my fav kpop group
This year, I know without a doubt it's going to be IAMX. I have listened to them just about every day for Four Months Straight, often for hours and hours at a time. I have 102 songs liked from them, so I have not grown bored at all.
It's going to be a frankly ridiculous level of minutes played. I'm rly curious where I'm gonna rank in their listeners hfkdhdksbdk
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screampied · 3 months
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✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, praise, size kink, fıngering, dirty talk, oral fixation, mdni.
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“easy, easy,” sukuna groans, having you laid on his broad, empty lap. you’re straddling him, chewing on your bottom lip as he’s knuckles deep into your drooling cunt. already, a clear sheet of slick coats down a single finger of his and you’re twitching from his hold. a cocky grin paints against his lips as one of his free hands attach to your waist. “ah, c’mon. not that bad. ‘s just one finger, princess.”
“y- your fingers are s-so thick, ‘kuna,” you babble out in broken words, and it doesn’t take long before your muscles tighten. indeed, he had much length to his fingers. he was easing you up because just moments ago, you insisted on how you could easily take him on the first try. of course, he decided to help you out anyway, finding amusement in how you’re already about to gush out from just a single digit. the stretch was immaculate, your tummy churns in a line of zig zags as you feel him slowly insert yet another finger inside. “fuck, ‘s long.”
with a breathy chortle, he makes you slump forward into his chest. “such a weak girl,” and his voice pitches against your ear — his breath, hot and fanning near the soft lobe of your ear. “if you can barely handle two fingers, what makes you think you can take two of my cocks, little one?”
your moans become more loud, echoing through the bouncy walls of his devilish, isolated chambers.
your body fails to remain still, grinding against his hand directly underneath you. “k- kunaaa,” you huff, your own jaw becoming loose and dangling itself agape.
it was so delicious . . the stretch, oh the stretch,
the way his two fingers curl into a salacious circular motion, rotating around the goopy insides of your sopping pussy. you were weak, so so weak.
he groans, hearing the slosh slosh squelches your own mess sings from the impact. “hah, ‘s good. i can take one more, please.”
chuckling, his lips press against your forehead. “hm, dunno. maybe i should take ‘em out..”
“s- sukuna,” you whimper, hearing him snickering at your desperate plea. your walls were more clingy than you were on a daily basis, sticking against the texture of his fingers like glue. with your face buried into the crook of his neck, you gasp once you feel the alleviated pressure arise furthermore. “pleaseplease, more. i can take another finger. need another finger.”
“girl,” he snarls, a single fang baring and you jolt into his chest once he spanks your pussy once.
the brief sting that follows makes you throb and it scratches such a good itch in your brain. “what did i tell ya? you don’t need, you want. repeat that sentence for me, pretty.”
“i— i want another finger inside,” you correct yourself, your eye twitching at his familiar sass. sukuna remained seated on his notorious throne, sexily manspread with you on top of him also. your legs felt like mush practically, and the stimulation has you swooning for more. gasping, you bite down on the breaking skin of your lip once more. “want it, ryo. want you.”
“good grief, does fingering make ya forget manners too?” he slyly grins, ruby red eyes peering into the depths of your precious soul.
you sigh, knowing what that meant. as he’s still got two fingers tucked away deeply into your cunt, your arms sling over his tense shoulders. “p- please.”
“atta girllll,” he praises, another one of his hands tugging against the fabric of your blouse.
as you still make a cute attempt at rocking your hips against his lap. he slowly inserts another thick finger inside. tightening around each one individually, you whine before your entire body jitters.
sukuna chuckles deeply against your ear, feeling the claws of your nails seep into the flesh of his arm. “oooh, so three is the limit. i see,” and within three seconds, his digits pull out of your cunt. a slimey string of your filth sticks against his fingers. as he looks down with an utmost hungry gaze, he brings his fingers up to his mouth before sniffing them.
“mhm,” and with glossy eyes, you stare as the demon pops his three fingers right into his mouth. you’re still taking your seat on his lap, watching as his forked tongue devours your enchanted taste. slit eyebrows furrow in arousal before he takes it back out, bringing his fingers toward your quavering lips. “open. taste it, girl,” and as your lips happily part, he slides two fingers inside your mouth, watching you suck against them. he groans, imagining you were putting your cute throat to use on his cock— not his fingers. your pink tongue swishes around, curling against the digits and you taste the bitter taste of your own sweet. “messy fuckin’ woman. taste how dirty you are for me? yeahhh, lick it all up ‘cause ‘m gonna put ‘em right back in. gotta train this weak cunt for the real thing.”
your head bobbles a bit— every few seconds sukuna’s lengthy fingers would thrash back against your uvula, causing you to almost gag. as you lick them clean, tasting his own syrupy saliva in the process, he quickly pulls them out before stuffing them right back into your greedy cunt as promised.
sukuna raises a brow as your head lowers onto his chest. “eh,” and as your tongue playfully licks against his neglected nipples, his breath hitches. you catch him off guard and he grunts at the suddenly sensitivity. “fuck are ya doin’ brat. didn’t tell you to s-suck on . . mhm, those.”
he doesn’t exactly pull you away.
instead, he drags your head closer, looking down embarrassed as your mouth latches onto his thickset pecs like a leech.
it felt odd, strangely new.
you’re sucking against his swollen perky nipples, lolling your tongue around before that’s when he abruptly pulls you off. with a new look of neediness in his eyes, sukuna watches as a trail of your own spit departs from his nipples. you leer back up at him with a teasing grin forming on your lips and he scoffs.
sukuna ryōmen was flustered..
“y’er .. fuckin’ weird,” he grouses, and once he sees your growing simper, he uses a hand to make your head move back toward its former placement near his now dampened pecs.
“keep .. doin’ that. never told ya to stop, little girl. phew, i- i liked that.”
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l0velysmut · 1 year
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miguel o’hara x fem!reader ❤︎
contains: short smut, oral (r recieving), praise kink, slight degrading??, miguel being big af with 11 inch fingers, brief p in v, size kink, i think that’s it.
wc: 564
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Miguel had been in between your legs for hours with your legs over his big shoulders, your juices dripping down his chin and onto the sheets, surely soaking into the mattress by now. You didn’t even know how many times he had made you cum, you just knew it was a lot.
You squirmed and whimpered as his tongue continued to work wonders on your pretty little cunt, the prettiest in Miguel’s opinion.
His tongue glided up and down your slit before pushing just the tip of his tongue into your hole, bringing the warm muscle in and out to tease you. His once half lidded eyes were now wide open as he stared up at you to watch your reaction.
He groaned into your pussy, sending vibrations into your core when he saw your face scrunched up in pleasure and your hand pinching and rolling your nipples in between your fingers. His nose nudged against your throbbing and swollen clit as his face melted closer into your pussy.
He began to suck on your entrance, making your legs shake next to his head, but that wasn’t enough for him. He wanted you to completely suffocate him with your thighs, and he knew how to get his way by pushing his entire tongue into your pussy, flicking up and down.
This caused your thighs to close around his head, squeezing harshly as his tongue brought you to your peak which made him moan.
Your legs spasmed around his head, and your back arched up and down, your hands scratching and pulling at the sheets.
“M-Miguel!” You cried, your head thrown back against the silk pillows Miguel had gotten for the king sized bed you two shared in your apartment after he had stalked your socials and read that you loved silk because it’s reduces friction on your hair. He was so grateful for how much you posted about yourself before he asked you out because that gave him the opportunity to learn so much about you, and not only learn from your socials, but from your friends socials, too.
But anyways, he hummed, his face pulling away from your pussy, his face completely dripping with your sweet juices. He licked his lips, and around them, too, getting the most that he could with just his tongue.
He knelt on the bed in front of you, rubbing his long 11 inch finger hands up and down your thighs as his 6’9 body towered over you, his god like body completely bare.
“You did such a good job, cariño,” He praises, grabbing the underside of your thighs and pushing them to your chest. “Such a good girl for me.”
Your eyes open in alert when you feel the length of his girthy tip prodding at your soaking and spent opening. You gasp when it pushes in and you whine, reaching to grab his muscly forearm. “Mig, s’too much..”
“Oh, mi corazón, you didn’t think I was done with this pussy, did you?” He chuckles, pushing in more until he was halfway inside of you, admiring the delicious looking stretch of your pussy around him. “Don’t tell me my tongue made your brain all fuzzy, baby, cause you should’ve known I wasn’t done with you. You should’ve known I was gonna fuck you until you can’t even form a single thought in that little brain of yours.”
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ceilidho · 7 months
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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 5; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
-
Give him blood and he’ll give you something new to chew on.
Except that isn’t the way it goes. Not this time at least.
He tries to talk Ghost out of it, but it falls on deaf ears. Blatantly ignored. The car barrels down the motorway under the cloak of night, a swell of stars overhead as the city falls farther behind. Radio shut off. Johnny thinks if Ghost had his way, the radio would’ve been pulled out entirely, just wires and an empty, black cavity in the dashboard, but it’s a rental. 
And no one wants to deal with the paperwork involved in damaging military property. Not even Ghost.
Ghost won’t so much as glance over at him. Unaffected as ever, as if they didn’t just fuck. Johnny’s stomach hurts when he thinks about it. Even without her knowing, he’s broken his girl’s trust. Not for the first time; maybe not even the last. His guilt echoes not only that he let Ghost make him come, but that he liked it—that the buzz in his bones says do it again, please god, again, please let me come, I need to come, touch me, please—
He thinks about his girl, then turns to Ghost again.
In the pit of his stomach, Johnny knows this is wrong. In his rational mind, he knows it. If he were in a better place, he wants to think that he’d make a real attempt to change Ghost’s mind, maybe get him to turn around at the next gas station, but he can’t deny the excitement bubbling in his belly at the prospect of seeing his girl again after a week of nothing. 
The silence has been eating away at him. Bits of his brain flaking away, moth-eaten. Checking his phone again and again to no new messages, getting the same voicemail message whenever he calls. Something flutters high in his chest, an itch he can’t scratch; it tells him to take off in the middle of the night, drive all the way back home and pound on her door until she’s forced to answer it, forced to talk to him face to face.
Again and again, he tries looking at it from her perspective—tries to empathize with her. What he would’ve done in her shoes had she allowed a coworker to grab his dick in front of a crowd of strangers. It’s more than fair, he thinks. His own shame leaks out of his pores in the middle of the night, sleeping on top of the covers because he sweats right through the sheets. 
And yet, he keeps butting up against his own anger. Talk it out with me, yell at me, he growls into her voicemail, anger growing as the days pass one by one. 
It’s the road that alerts him to their arrival into the city more than anything. More cracks in the asphalt, the car rattling over sewer depressions and potholes in a way that says home sweet home. Usually it’s a source of comfort, like seeing the silver lining on grey clouds or the iridescence in an oil spill, purples and greens catching the light. Not now. Now the road winds like descending into the underworld, each turn coming with a sinking feeling. 
They park down the road from the flower shop, tucked just out of sight. A cool breeze wafts over his hot face when he steps out of the car. It nearly rocks him back. When he glances up, his heart stutters at the sight of her bedroom window, sealed tight now. Only cracked open during their sleepovers, when Johnny runs a bit too hot at night for them to sleep comfortably with the window closed. 
“Should I…do ye want me to give her a call to wake her up?” Johnny asks tentatively, shutting the car door softly so as not to make a noise. 
Ghost shakes his head. “We’ll let ourselves in.”
Johnny’s picked hundreds of locks in his time; he’s jimmied open doors with crowbars, set up explosive charges, used a good old fashioned ram from time to time—no stranger to the trade—but it feels decidedly uncomfortable with Ghost at his back, staring down at him as he breaks into his own girlfriend’s apartment. 
“This is a bad idea,” he grumbles, turning the pick in the lock until he hears a familiar click inside. 
Ghost doesn’t answer, just raps his knuckles against the back of Johnny’s head. A silent get a move on. 
Her apartment looks the same but different when they enter it. His muscles remember the layout though. The pink couch in the living room with two dimpled pillows on either side, the footstool by the door, the stand with her shoes all piled in neat little rows, the vase on her kitchen island with a fresh new bundle of flowers, fragrant when he dips his head to take a whiff. He’s loved flowers ever since meeting his girl. 
Ghost doesn’t try to muffle his footsteps for once. He rummages through her cabinets and drawers with all the finesse of a first time burglar looking to get caught. It smacks of intentionality. Johnny’s worked with him too many times in the field to know that if Ghost wanted to disappear into the darkness, he would. He’d be the thing creeping silently through the shadows, tread lighter than air, close enough to touch but never see. 
So it’s more than deliberate when he noisily shuts a drawer. Baiting her out. 
It’s no surprise when Johnny hears her creep around the corner from out of her bedroom. He’s tucked in the shadows of the living room, just out of the light, so he sees her first when she comes silently down the hall, whole body trembling with fear, the bat she keeps beside her bed drawn over a shoulder. Even her hands shake around the grip.
Of course she yelps when Johnny says her name, stepping out of the shadows, swinging wild. He winces when the bat smashes into a lamp, shattering it on impact. 
“Fuck!” she screams, scurrying backwards into the wall behind her. Several framed pictures rattle against the wall, nearly knocked off their hooks. 
“Noisy, isn’t she?” Ghost grumbles from the kitchen, tossing a bored glance over, unbothered by the commotion. He undoubtedly heard her creeping down the hall as well. 
“What the fuck?” she gasps, chest heaving when she breathes. Her eyes dart from Johnny to Ghost’s massive form in the other room. Poor nervous thing. She must recognize Johnny’s voice saying her name even through the panic because her lips droop in a frown, more confused than petrified.
“Hen, it’s jus’ us—nothing to worry about,” Johnny coos, hands stretched out in front of him to show he means no harm. 
It gets her to lower the bat, but only just, the slightest dip that has him darting forward to pry it gently from her hands. The ceramic shards on the floor will have to be swept up later, but he’s relieved that at least she didn’t step on any of them. 
Up close, she’s just as pretty as he remembers. Pretty as pie. How could she not be? In the glow of youth still, not like it's been a decade since they last spoke face to face—only a little over a week. A sight for sore eyes, even though Johnny’s narrow when he stares down at her and thinks about the week of his texts and calls going unanswered. His jaw undulates, rage held back by the thin thread of her scent that wafts under his nose, making him lean into her. 
Breathe in and out. 
“Us?” she repeats, brow furrowing.
She glances over at Ghost again, the man still ambling around the kitchen, at home in her little one bedroom apartment like he visits her frequently. Like it’s his as well. 
“Aye…Ghost wanted to come—Simon wanted to apologize…for the other day,” Johnny explains. 
“You broke into my apartment in the middle of the night…so Simon could apologize for sexually harassing me?” she says, the disbelief smacking in her words. 
“Hen, it's no' nice to say it like that—” 
“No time like the present,” Ghost says, not ashamed in the slightest. “Heard you weren’t taking Johnny’s calls. Might not’ve had to do this if you’d picked up.” 
Johnny doesn’t believe a word of that, but there’s no reason to call him out on it now. 
He can see her wrestle with a trifecta of emotions competing for first place. Anger, embarrassment, and then, a smidge of worry holding up the rear. Aware of the fact that she woke up to two grown men, one practically a stranger, breaking into her apartment under the guise of having a conversation. His heart aches at the thought. The lion’s share of the blame rests with him, but still it’s her that suffers for it. 
“You…you shouldn’t be here,” she rasps, flinching when Johnny lays a hand on her waist, towering over where she’s still cowered against the wall. Bat gone now, defenceless. Her pupils narrow to a pinprick. He almost tuts, poor thing. Scared out of her wits. 
It feels so good to touch her though. Soft and yielding. 
“‘Was Simon’s idea, hen, but, ah—” his breathing picks up when his fingers tighten on her waist and she squirms “—I was goin’ crazy thinkin’ ye were pissed for what happened last week. Couldnae get a wink of sleep—kept closin’ my eyes and seein’ your face. Nearly broke me.”
“I am pissed at you,” she snaps, temper getting the better of her.
“I ken, I ken,” Johnny coos, ducking his head until his lips graze her temple. “Simon’s sorry—we came all the way here so he could tell ye to your face, but fuck, hen, I’m sorry too—shoulda said something instead of standin’ there like a fuckin’ dolt—”
“You should’ve,” she interrupts, still fuming mad, an iceberg melting right in front of them. It makes his cock pulse.
“—Aye, hen, I’ve no excuse, none at all. Shoulda told Simon to fuck off and keep his hands to himself—”
“Careful, Johnny,” Ghost says warningly, finally stepping into the living room. He fills out the archway imposingly, almost forced to twist his body on an angle to step in. 
Her eyes cut over to Ghost, narrowing, lips pursing. Johnny’s heart jumps in his chest. It’s one thing to see his girl again in the flesh, but to see her all righteous and on the verge of an argument—he could bend her over the back of the couch now, sink into the plush, delicate folds of her pussy, reacquaint himself with deep, languid thrusts. Heaven after not getting his cock wet in a week.
He flinches when he thinks about the last person to touch his dick. 
“So you’re sorry?” she says to Ghost, her disbelief clear. Difficult to see why she wouldn’t find it hard to believe that the man that shamelessly grabbed her ass in broad daylight in front of a group of his colleagues and her boyfriend would now choose to apologize. 
Johnny knows the answer is no when he sees the way Ghost’s eyes rove over her body, taking stock of her little cotton pajamas and her bare feet curling against the cold floor. Ghost tilts his head to the side, eyes travelling back up to meet hers. “Sure I am, bird. Don’t I look sorry?”
Neither of them answer that. Arguing with Ghost feels different, like inviting in danger. Moving too suddenly in front of a hungry dog, jowls loose and salivating for a bite. 
He takes a step closer. “Complete pillock, wasn’t I? And now Johnny’s getting the silent treatment ‘cause of it. Just couldn’t bear another second of him moping around base on the verge of tears.” 
Johnny frowns at that. His girl frowns too, but there’s something more to it. He wouldn’t blame her for not accepting Simon’s apology, if he could even call it that—nothing about it rings sincere, more like words spoken softly to call a kitty over—but questioning it feels worse somehow. Like detonating a bomb at two thousand feet above ground. 
“…Okay,” she says instead, voice trembling a little. “Apology accepted. You guys can go home now.”
“Bird’s forgiving, huh, Johnny?” 
Johnny preens despite himself. “Aye. She’s a good girl, Lt. Told ye so.”
Ghost nods. “That’s right. A good girl who’s gonna let us make it up to her ‘til we have to report back in forty-eight hours.”
“Wait, you can’t—” she starts, then cuts herself off when Ghost’s eyes flash.
He can’t help the way he shudders at the helpless look on her face. Downturned eyebrows, pretty lips slack with disbelief, just the slightest hint of a whine building in her throat that dies when it dawns on her that nothing short of calling the cops will make the two of them leave. 
And she’s a good girl—would never call the cops on him. His perfect girl. Sweet as pie. 
Johnny falls in love a little bit more when she presses her squeezed fists against her eyes and exhales. “Fine. I’m too—I’m going back to bed. We can talk about this in the morning.”
Ghost doesn’t react to her acceptance. It’s taken as a simple fact of nature—he says something and it happens. He speaks the world into being. 
“I’ll take the couch,” he grunts, finally sitting down to unlace his boots. He looks comically large on her little couch—it’s more than likely that his feet will hang off the end, if not everything from the knee down. 
Johnny already figured as much. No point in them driving all the way back to base when they both have the next two days off duty and there’s a perfectly serviceable couch for Ghost and the other half of her bed for him. He thought they’d have to convince her a bit more or strong arm her into it (a putrid thought; he’d rather have sweet talked her into the idea), but his girl always manages to surprise him in the best way. 
On that thought, he looks over his shoulder towards the bedroom door, cock throbbing again at the thought of getting to hold his girl’s body against his. Touch starved dog. Mangy mutt, tongue lolling out at even the possibility of a pet. 
Ghost must notice the object of his gaze because he sets him straight. “You can take the floor, Johnny.” 
His tone brooks no argument. When Johnny whirls around, the words already on his tongue, she’s my girl, I’ve already slept in that bed ten times over, the sight of Ghost’s bare face, the mask now off, dangling in his hand like some scrap of fabric, makes him lose his train of thought. It’s not often he’s granted the luxury of seeing Ghost’s face—wide, clean shaven jaw, buzzed blond hair, old burn marks like a half-moon around his eye, nasty old scar slicing through his lips—and to see it now, here, makes something in him give. 
Saturnine man with a wolf’s appetite. Ravenous. 
It burns him that his girl looks slightly relieved at having the bed to herself. Irks him. Makes his jaw clench on a mean remark, half tempted to spit out something cross. Just because things have gotten complicated, now he’s not welcome in her bed? After the week he’s spent toiling, trying to make amends? Pleading desperately over the phone, stewing in guilt and heartache—Johnny knows she’s a good girl, but if he finds out that she’s replaced him with someone else in the week since they last saw each other—
Even the thought makes him see red.
He watches her as she turns around to retreat back to bed, more than a little displeased. 
“Give Johnny a little kiss before bed, why don’t you, bird?” Ghost lightly suggests. Not a suggestion. 
She freezes mid-turn. His expression dares her to put up a fuss. Johnny again nearly clucks his tongue, troubled on her behalf. Her spitfire nature is snuffed out easily under that stare. Grown men with experience in the field wither under Ghost’s stare. It’s no weakness of hers that she acquiesces time and again to his demands, glancing up at Johnny from under her eyelashes before shuffling over, pressing the lightest of kisses to his cheek. 
“Better than that,” Ghost grunts, unimpressed. 
His poor darling. Humiliated now. No skin off his back though. Johnny’s heart pumps double time when she presses her lips to his; soft petals that spread when he slips his tongue into her mouth, too eager after a week of nothing. Touch starved. Desperate to sink into her, lap his tongue over her lips and the roof of her mouth and press her jaw open to spit messily in her mouth. Take it, hen, every piece of me.
She rips her lips from his and dances away when he tries to get his hands on her, eyes wide, casting one last glance over at Ghost before hightailing it back to her room. 
He barely resists going after her. Only Ghost’s stare roots him in place; his voice in Johnny’s head that rumbles, heel. I’ll tell you when to go.
He still doesn’t know what it says about him that he angles himself towards it. Bows his head to it. Moth to a flame that shocks him to the bone when he touches it.
Ghost tosses him the second pillow from the other end of the couch and takes the only blanket for himself. No matter. Johnny’s bivouacked on snowy cliff sides, chilblains blistering his toes for weeks; nights spent camped in torrential downpours, his tent on the verge of collapsing; windswept baysides chilling him to the bone. He can handle a pillow on a hardwood floor. 
The ebb and flux of an ocean in his ear, and then Ghost’s voice from the couch: “I’ll take first watch.”
Whole body falling loose as if snipping a cord tethering him to the world. 
“I’ll clean up the lamp in the morning,” he mumbles, vision already blurring. Ghost hums low in his throat.
He falls asleep with Ghost’s voice in his head, his girl’s taste still in his mouth.
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aajjks · 5 months
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Gazelle (m)
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synopsis. You’re his, only his beautiful gazelle.
pairing. gojo x fem!reader
warnings. MDNÏ. yändêrê thèmès, mátúrê ëxplïcït thèmès, ünprôtèctèd sèx, ëxplïcït sèx, scènt kïnk, hè’s sö nèèdy, kïndá sübmïssïvè gôjô, lôts óf kïssïng, präïsè kïnk, röugh fückïng, márkïng, pösèssïvè!göjö, prôfânïty, yándèrè gôjô
note. I could’ve done this so much better but…. I’m still a rookie when it comes to writing smut… hehe… also gojo loves to call you his gazelle… ifykyk… 👁️💌 ENJOY!
Gif not mine I found this on Pinterest so cr to owner.
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It’s absolutely embarrassing how needy he gets around you.
Satoru Gojo is helpless around you, his beautiful and dazzling girlfriend, Y/N.
One second around you and he feels his mind shut down, his heart pumping loud so hard that he’s convinced you’ve noticed the sound of his heartbeat.
One second around you and all he can think about is fucking you so hard that the only name you remember is his.
He is a possessive guy, and you are unfairly gorgeous.
Gojo is territorial, he knows it’s toxic but you’re too precious to him, so he tries his best to make sure you stay with him, and only him.
People are disgusting, oh he knows, especially men.
Men are predators, you are like the most beautiful gazelle, Gojo is a man after all, he knows what goes into their [his] sick brain whenever you’re around.
You’re the most valuable person in Saturo’s life.
He can’t loose you.
So he just has to keep you happy, by any means necessary.
But, there’s this one way that he loves.
Pleasing you through sex.
He can’t help but pound into your heat like a desperate man, fuck, you feel so good that his mind feels numb, only the thoughts of you surrounding his brain.
“F-Fuck, ‘toru!” You yelp,
Gojo watches your beautiful E/C eyes, your lashes flutter, your face is scrunched as your bite your lower lip, your hands feel so hot around his back, “B-Baby harder!” He moans, too lost in his moment.
God you’re so beautiful like this.
“H-Harder, princess, please dig them in deeper!” He crashes his lips into yours, swallowing your breaths as he dives deeper into your core, the pressure makes your eyes roll back from the sensation,
Your nails are scratching his back so hard, the burn feels orgasming to him, he bites your lip hard, yet gentle and it spurs you on further,
Making Gojo whimper when you clench around him so tightly.
“F-Fuck princess! C-Can’t move..” he breaks the kiss, your eyes are now wide open as you look into your boyfriend’s wild cold coloured eyes.
“F-Fuck love you so much!”
“Please help me baby.. please..” Satoru sounds pathetic right now, be he doesn’t care, peppering kisses all over your tear stained face as you smile sweetly at him.
“‘m close turo.. so fuckin’ close!” How can you sound so cute at a moment like this, your tongue is lulling out of your mouth, your body feels so soft beneath his running palms all over your skin.
You’re a piece of art, so beautiful that it drives him insane.
“M-Me too baby, fuck, gonna cum together yeah?” His heart feels crazy, you nod, “gotta release me a little baby please..” he groans.
You feel so hot, he feels so hot.
He pushes your body deeper into the mattress, you don’t object as he buries his face into your neck, his breath chilling over your sweaty neck.
“So good, S-Satoru…” you praise your boyfriend, he whined into your embrace, you know how to get him so needy, that’s why he’s so in love with you.
You’re his everything.
He licks over your sensitive skin, grazing his teeth, he bites softly.
“Yn… gonna cum!” He’s almost about to cry, you inhale a deep breath, trying your best to loosen up a little around his length.
“D-Do it toru… let it go!” You kiss his cheeks, his breath is trembling as he whined again and again into your neck.
“You’re so… fuck.. you’re so good to me.” He loves you so much, Gojo loves you so much, you’re his everything, always so considerate.
How did he get so lucky?
“Baby… yn..” he calls out your name in the most soft voice, his lips hot against your skin, “want you to cum together w’me..”
He thrusts deeper into you, making you gulp before you can respond to him, you can see the stars as he mercilessly fucks you with all his might.
It. feels. so. good.
“I-I feel close, gojo..” you confess. He knows, he’s nodding into your hair, kissing you, “I know princess, let loose.”
He’s so gentle with his words yet so rough with his movements.
You know you can’t hold yourself back anymore.
He caresses your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, you feel his hips bucking up.
You follow him, doing the same.
And before you can think of anything, you both release together.
“My gazelle… so perfect for me every single time..” he smiles, panting hard as he presses a wet kiss on your sweaty forehead,
“it’s completely okay if you get pregnant baby.”
He winks and you roll your eyes.
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killakalx · 6 months
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ageless/blank blogs dnf
17+ content, first time for reader (though it isn’t treated as that big of a deal), light overstim, finger sucking, nipple play, begging, dick is a jealous fucker if you squint, and ik i said he’s an ass man but who doesn’t like tits?
bsf!dick grayson, who’s so sweet to you for your first time. who’s finally able to admit he’s wanted to fuck you for so long, since he couldn’t help coming clean to you after another agonizing rant about how no one you’ve talked to deserved your first time. who jokingly informs you that he’s more than deserving of getting you too drunk on his cock to think about anyone else, and you happily oblige.
he’s almost babying you, granting you anything you beg him for. it’s too much for your senses at first, whines getting more frantic when he fucks you right through your first orgasm and straight into another right after. he’d tell you that you’re right about one thing- no one needs to feel the way your cunt tightens and leaks when you’re fucked too good. hell, no one but him will ever fuck you this good anyway. “I know, sweetheart,” he’s cooing into your ear, “just one more. let me have one more.”
“oh fuck- dick,” you gasp, nails digging and pulling at the sheets as he fucks you into overstimulation. his thrusts slow, but get impossibly deeper when he folds your leg over his shoulder- fuck, it feels like the tip of his cock is nudging at your brain. “‘s too much- too much, I can’t…” you can’t help the way you cling to his body, as if you could stabilize yourself while he pounds you into the mattress. he hisses when your nails scratch at his back, racking over every scar and crevice and pulling out a groan deep from his throat as you beg him for a break.
“yes you can, baby- shh,” he shushes, gentle tone rivaling the lewd clapping of your skin against his. a free hand snakes up your body to cup your face before he continues. “fuck, you’re still gripping me like a vice. you wanna cum again, huh?” before you fix your mouth to respond, two fingers slip past your swollen lips and down your throat, leaving his index and pinky finger framing your heated cheeks. it just makes you sound all the more helpless, gasping and slurring words around his hand. “yeah… tell me how bad you wanna cum on this cock. speak up.”
you stutter a bit and grab his wrist, and he’s tempted to assume it’s to keep you drooling. “uh huh,” you barely manage, “I wan’ it- real bad.” he moans at the way you sputter before sucking his fingers, teeth grazing his skin as he resumes his earlier pace. all it took was a bit of encouragement before you’re on board with letting him fuck you over the edge again. “first time, huh...” he teases under his breath as you paw at your chest for more stimulation, nipples peaking through the fabric of your tank top. you meekly moan on his fingers and he laughs.
finally pulling away from your mouth, dick trails saliva and dampens fabric as he palms your boob, interlocking his other hand with both of yours and pressing them above your head. “i got it,” he pants before pulling the flimsy fabric down, removing the restraint against your chest as the neckline perks your tits up. dick grins at the view, fucking you faster and watching them bounce before sucking at your skin. cold air brushes against your other nipple before he gropes and pinches at it too, a near ravenous moan vibrating around the hardened bud that makes you shiver beneath him as you gush and squeeze the life out of his cock.
“goddamn, baby-“ he draws out as he sloppily makes out with the supple skin on your chest, bites starting to startle you with the sudden roughness compared to earlier. you’ve got him close, finally, and it doesn’t take long until his guttural groans escalate to moans and keens on par with yours when you cum. “tell me where you want it, doll- shit, you want it all over these pretty tits?” fervently rolling your hips, you nod, practically begging for him to defile you. “I knew you were nasty,” he huffs after accidentally sucking a big and vibrant hickey right between your breasts, getting you to tremble on his cock just before he pulls out to stroke himself over your tummy. dick’s got you feeling all filthy, debauched even. and he’s made sure to ruin any other prick you decide to fuck, any toy you resort to, looking forward to hearing how you can’t get off unless you think of him and his cock.
“lemme get a picture too, pretty girl. just in case you decide i don’t deserve to fuck you again.” ❧
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justabratsworld · 9 months
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Yandere! Ex boyfriend
Warning(s) smut (not too descriptive but there)
Yandere ex: Thought that you were just being dramatic again
Yandere ex: Can’t comprehend why you would even think itd be that easy
Yandere ex: Follows you around and watches you through cameras
Yandere ex: Sabotages everything fling, friendship, situationship
Yandere ex: Calls you on burner phones just breathing
Yandere ex: Acts surprised when you call him crying because you’re just so lonely and scared
Yandere ex: Pretends hes no longer interested in you (he has a ring in his nightstand)
Yandere ex: Comforts you by fucking your brains out so hard and good that you don’t realize he didn’t pull out
Elias was so confused when you said you were breaking up with him (again). Things were going so well this time! He did everything right; he stopped smoking, drinking, even started to do yoga (just so he can take notes on which positions he can force you into). So you, breaking up with him out of nowhere, really had him scratching his head.
Following you around he noticed all your friends were feeding you poison about him! Saying how possessive (he just wants everyone to know you’re taken), obsessive (he just loves you???), and well creepy he was. Now, he couldn’t let the love of his life be lied to and manipulated like that. No! He had to step in and well make them disappear.
Is physically sick when he sees you attempt to form a new relationship. Seeing you doll yourself up for some person who isn’t him??? A crime. He’d rather gouge out his eyes if he saw you kiss anyone again. He scared away anyone he thought was going to take you away. Even the one night, don’t want commitments weren’t texting you back.
God you look so pretty so scared hiding in your closet. Having answered another phone call with someone breathing heavily. Seeing you cry silently as you try to text someone for help only to get no replies. Watching you try to muster up courage to call him. He could cum at the sound of your voice saying you need him.
Having to look disinterested when you wrap your arms around him crying that you messed up. That you should’ve stayed with him. Blabbering that he’s the one for you and how you were just scared of how well things were going. Seeing your lips tremble and nose run as he sighs saying “I don’t know hun, you really broke my heart. I don’t know if I can do this again with you” knowing you’ll beg and promise anything.
Has you bent over the couch, fucking you so hard you’re pretty sure your cervix are bruised. Nothing going through that pretty head of yours. All he’s saying is how much he loves you and you were always meant to be his. All you can do is just agree to everything he says. Even when he demands asks you to marry him. By the time he’s finished you don’t even realize he never pulled out.
Waking up to being back in his bed and with a ring on your finger.
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hyhkai · 7 months
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choi beomgyu — surprise!
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[ 🥞 ] where beomgyu, your dumb puppy boyfriend is down whenever you are.
cw : face sitting + riding (?), they were watching one piece, sub!gyu, slapping/smacking, dirty talk, cum. let me know if there's anything I should add because I'm bad at cw's <3
a/n ; not proofread and tumblr didn't save my first draft. i hate life. inspired from a porn video I need to detox my brain and go on an exaggeration of a long walk and fade into the dusk.
eyes focused on the screen as episode 367 played on the tv, nami forcing the chipmunk zombies to tell her where the real treasure is as your eyes got drawn over to beomgyu, sitting on the edge of the bed as he looked down at his phone, scratching his neck and ruffling his hair.
there's only one explanation as to why your eyes are off the anime. he's so fucking sexy.
shifting in the bed, thighs pressed close against one another as your attention kept being off the show and how you wanted to have his perfect too perfect of a face between your legs.
contemplating what to do about your sudden arousal, your mind wandered off to the night of not watching episode 86, and him climbing into the couch with you and muttering with the most horny tone, "if you're down, I'm down. if you're done, I'm done."
oh well.
you sat up, hands playing with the hem of your shirt as you contemplated whether to do this or not.
fuck it.
he's a loser for you, and he's down all the time to the point where he's growing back into his era of teen hormones.
it wasn't long before your top was off your shoulders, and you'd made the headboard into a buttress for your back as you took your pajamas off, eyeing beomgyus back as he played some game.
you were so eager to get bare, yearning to have his mouth all over your thighs. in fact, it was very obvious the moment you entered just how much of a dumb puppy he is when his expression was filled with the fact that he wanted to push you onto the couch, pull your pants down to see the wet patch on your panty that's so obviously there. <3
it's almost laughable that you're bare and your one hell of a horny boyfriend doesn't even know. you huff, a grin plastered as you crawled towards him, causing the bed to jitter.
he was about to turn and look what you're up to, but was soon vehemently shoved into the mattress as you pulled him down, climbing onto his face and holding his hands.
oh he's grinning isn't he.
"oh fuck baby." he mumbled coherently enough as his face was pulled to your clothed pussy like opposites of a magnet. he only made the wet stain in your panties worse, and did so until your clit was traced into the cotton. god really made a sin when he created your boyfriend.
it's almost a crime because he's too too too pretty for his own good. he placed his hands over your thighs and wrapped it around, palming your ass. "lift your hips for me, baby." he mumbled into your pussy. it was whiny, causing you to almost fold and want to do a sixty-nine with him.
you bucked up your hips, and his finger slid your panties to the side as he tilted his head, and his lips latched onto your clit. "h-hah. g-good boy."
he moaned into your pussy, his dick was already pressed up against his pants, his hips bucking into the air and only getting sliding friction; not static. he shook his face, nose bucking up into your cunt, causing your eyes to close shut and lips flatten into a line of pure satisfaction.
his fingers were lurking around your hole, not pressing in but just enough for you to push yourself down onto his body. you let out a moan before you could stop yourself, his tongue swirling around your mess and two fingers right that were contemplating on whether to give you what you want.
"now that's a wet pussy." he mumbled, eyes downward as he stared at your arousal. "h- just fuck me." you mumbled as your fingers scrunched his tshirts fabric between them.
he let go at the tap of your fingers on his forearm, you getting up to turn around— and what a fucking view you got. dumb, dumb beomgyu, laying there as the mute tv's changing lights made his face glisten with your pussy. nothing to be bothered about, he likes it when his face his smothered all up in his favourite girl's pussy.
you gripped on his hair, and your knuckles almost went white when his tongue met your clit. it wasn't fair, his eyes so doe when he looks up at you, his tongue so mean when he eats you out.
"sweet." he kissed your pussy, and thank god you weren't at your apartment, these lewd noises could end up in a discussion with your neighbours. his breath hitting your core, tongue swirling, and yet he tells you he doesn't know how to eat pussy.
"h-hah, beomgyu, you're sure you don't know how to d-do this..?"
"take what I offer, baby." as he licked your nub.
he said something into your pussy that came out so incoherent it was just a vibrating sensation to you. you thought you were almost lost in the moment. almost? you were lost. other hand now on his forehead as you bounced and rubbed yourself all over his face. "y-yeah. take it, boy. fuck. h-hah.." you slapped his forehead to which all he did was laugh at your assumption of how he's the pathetic one, when it's complete antithesis.
his situation wasn't going to be any better than yours anymore when his hips were already thrusting into air whilst he ran out of oxygen. did any of you two care? absolutely not.
starting to get closer and closer, you were already going at it on his face, grinding on his nose and mouth while mumbling all sorts of curse words when he slurped all of you; like the dumb puppy he is.
"h- beom— beom, close. okay?" you said under your breath as his hands were starting to grip his own cock from above his slacks, rubbing himself but not completely, not wholly enough for his own orgasm. and why rub one out when you will be doing it later on anyway?
"on my face, ugh, pleasepleaseplease." he groaned when you did just that, cumming hard. hands pressed into the mattress above his head as you rub yourself sideways onto the homogeneous mixture of your fluids and his spit and saliva as he licked it all up, whatever came near his mouth, he swallowed. "filthy boy, i- ha, hah..." and one good, harsh pat on his head as you grasped his locks again, looking down as you got up.
you laughed at the sight; pretty, shiny beomgyu. literally. a sight that only you and the associates who deny your entry into heaven witness. who cares, he's so pretty.
"good boy." you mumbled as you used his shoulders as support when you plopped down onto the bed.
he opened his eyes, eyelashes fluttering to reveal his pretty iris's. "kiss?"
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I could write an entire post on why this is bad. I was bored. i apologize for taking your time. ok actually I have absolutely no idea what came into me when I wrote this but I wrote it so hahahahah my bad I'll delete it and disappear.
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k-hotchoisan · 11 months
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no because this is so san coded.
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Like imagine it starting out with just San being clingy and wanting to latch onto you, then it becomes kisses as he pulls you closer to him.
He initially claims that he’s too tired so he just “wants to cuddle” but the feeling of your warmth engulfing him and way he’s pressed onto you only starts to make his mind buzz.
So there the both of you are, with San’s hands at the back of your neck to pull you in closer and deeper into the kiss.
Then it becomes a full blown make out session when he shifts above you, his hands around your jaw to tilt your chin up for easier access to your tongue.
He pulls back to stare down at you, you who is half lidded and looking pretty dazed. He likes it a lot. And he can’t help but pull your panties off, and stare at the way your cunt is covered in slick from just kissing him, but he’s not faring any better, his erection just hard and taut against his own boxers as he doesn’t hesitate to peel them off.
“Just the tip”, he promises you and the cockhead inches into your cunt, and he sighs at the sensitivity as he rubs his cockhead in and out of your tight and pretty hole. He tries to get a rhythm, and it works for awhile, but as the arousal builds between the both of you, accompanied by your soft whimpers, he gets a little too greedy.
And then he has his whole cock just sunk into you. You see his eyes roll back from how good he’s stretching you out and he loses composure, and fucks you so good into the mattress below you.
“I’m sorry-fuck! You feel so fucking good. Ah! I can’t fucking help myself.”
If San wasn’t balls deep in you and if his cock didn’t feel this fucking good, you’d definitely make fun of him for being a liar, but holy shit, it’s feeling like he’s about to fuck your brains out from the way he’s driving his cock in and out of you so desperately.
Your fingers claw on his back, leaving light scratches in their wake and San loves it so much. He ruts into you as he attacks your lips with another wet kiss and he releases a drawn out moan, before you feel warm, thick and slick fluids spurt into your stretched out cunt. It makes you clench around him even more—to milk him dry.
He’s whining from the overstimulation and it’s music in your ears, before he turns to you, his lips on your ear, “I’m sorry baby.”
You only laugh as you stroke his hair, feeling his cock twitch inside of you.
“You’re such a bad liar.”
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hwangyu · 4 months
Text
brand new, full throttle!
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beomgyu finds out you're the perfect way to get under his stepfathers skin.
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pairing(s); stepbrother!beomgyu x fem reader
warnings; STEPCEST, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (dont be silly wrap the willy!!!), creampie, reader is a virgin and kind of naive, reader calls her father daddy, beomgyu calls reader sis, beomgyu is a little manipulative, lowercase intended, ... bad writing (esp at the end bcus i can't write conflict to save my life). proofread in the sense i skimmed through it (so not really). lmk if i forgot anything! MDNI 18+
wc; 5.2k
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beomgyu fucking hated his stepfather, everyone in the house knew that. you knew it, his mom knew it and your father most definitely knew it, too. beomgyu would purposefully get on his nerves whenever he could, whether it be by playing his guitar or music at times of night which he knew your father would be sleeping or intentionally bumping into him in the hallway.
over the many years, though, your father got used to beomgyu's bothersome antics—which had only pissed him off, feeling as if annoying his stepfather was the only control he really had—your father living peacefully, unbothered, was like an itch he couldn't scratch. that was until one night he had heard your father yelling at you for trying to bring a boy home.
that's when beomgyu had realized that you were the key to not just getting under his skin but the key to getting him so angry that his head would probably explode. his precious and innocent little daughter who could do no wrong, and would never do anything as dirty as even kissing someone. you were daddy's little girl and your father loved to baby you all too much.
ever since then, beomgyu's wondered how he would react if he heard you getting your brains fucked out and how he would react if he knew it was by his own stepson.
it had been about three weeks since your father had gotten angry with you for trying to bring a boy over—even after you had insisted that it really was just to hangout, that you've never even liked a boy like that, that a boy had never even liked you like that, he told you no. which wasn't the issue, but you felt humiliated he got so upset with you, and you really don't even know what you did wrong.
beomgyu consoled you that night. came into your room and rubbed soothingly at your back as you let out your tears. you've always been thankful for beomgyu, he was always accepting of you, as you were of him, even if your father seemed to disapprove of his appearance and hobbies.
despite the fact your father and stepbrother couldn't get along for the life of them, you and beomgyu's relationship was pretty good. you two hung out occasionally, mostly in his room but sometimes in yours, too. he'd invite you to watch a movie or play a game sometimes and you've met a couple of his friends. you liked him and he liked you, surprisingly enough—considering your families blended in both of your early teens.
so, when beomgyu had asked you if he could spend the night in your room for a movie-game night, you happily accepted.
you always brought out your best pillows and comfiest blankets when you two hung out in your room. usually you'd have brought a bunch of snacks in from the kitchen, but beomgyu had told you not to worry about it this time, that he had it handled.
you turned on your console and took your game controllers out of their charging docks, making sure both of the controllers were actuually charged and your dock hadn't failed it like it has in the past—you let out a sigh of relief when you saw that they were both fully charged, smiling to yourself as you started to navigate towards netflix.
it was 10:00pm when beomgyu had gently knocked on your door and your smile grew, excited to spend time with the boy. "come in!" you shouted, although your voice was still rather quiet. thankfully he heard you and the doorknob slowly turned. beomgyu smiled at you as he walked in and even while he quietly shut the door behind him.
he was wearing a black graphic tee with grey sweatpants, which contrasted the lighter colors you were wearing—white pajama shorts with a loose pink crop top. beomgyu always thought it was amusing that you two dressed totally opposite to one another. even in your room, beomgyu stuck out like a sore thumb, usually being dressed in dark, edgy clothes while your room was covered in cutesy stuffed animals and photos.
you'd always tell him that's why you two complimented each other so well, why you got along.
beomgyu hadn't said anything yet, only looking you up and down. if you were any smarter, you'd think he was checking you out. but you weren't and the only thing you noticed was that he had come in empty-handed. tilting your head, you pouted. "where are the snacks?"
"huh?" beomgyu blinked, his eyes shifting from your thighs to your face. "oh," he forced out a chuckle. "there…wasn't any. sorry. i'll get extra next time to compensate."
you hummed, somewhat disappointed. "that's okay…don't worry about it. i wasn't all that hungry, anyway." you told him, hoping that he wouldn't feel as bad. you sat yourself down on the pink beanbag in front of your tv, patting the white one right next to it.
"come on, sit down! let's find a movie to watch before it gets too late."
beomgyu dragged his feet over to the beanbag, sitting himself down with a sigh, watching as you reached out to grab your controller so you guys could look for a movie. "what kind of movie are you in the mood for?" you asked him while keeping your eyes on the screen, "like…something animated or…scary?" you started to list the options—turning your head to face him as you waited for an answer.
you flinched a little to see beomgyu was already looking at you and you briefly wonder if he had been the entire time you were scrolling through the movie selections. he seemed to notice your surprise and he chuckled.
"let's watch catching fire, i know you like that one." he told you—hoping that you would agree and wouldn't try to argue with him and get him to choose a movie that he wanted to watch instead.
luckily, it seems you didn't feel like arguing tonight. in fact, you smiled, "okay! that's a good one." you agreed with a nod, looking back towards the tv to turn the movie on. this time, beomgyu managed to tear his eyes off you.
things grew rather silent from then, besides your guys' comments about the character's choices or asking a question that wasn't entirely relevant to the plot at hand. it was only about forty minutes in when beomgyu leaned in towards you and asked you a question that wasn't regarding the movie at all.
"is your dad here tonight?"
you turned to look at him, absentmindedly reaching for the remote on the floor so you could turn the volume down a little. "y-yeah, he's got work early tomorrow so he's probably already asleep."
the boy placed his hand on your thigh as he nodded with a hum and he noticed you didn't seem to mind the touch by the way you had only offered his hand a glance. "my mom's spending the night at my aunt's, has to watch her dog for the night or somethin'."
you opened your mouth to speak, likely something in regards to the fact you would've volunteered to watch his aunt's puppy instead, but beomgyu managed to speak before you.
"is it true you were just going to hangout?" he suddenly asked and beomgyu noticed the immediate confusion in your face. "with that guy you wanted to bring over a few weeks ago."
truth be told, he felt bad when he saw you frown but seeing your face turn red from the embarrassment that you still felt from the situation was cute. "you of all people know i'm not gonna bring a boy over for anything else…" you mumbled, "i— i don't even do stuff like that." you quietly admitted.
"i know, i know, i'm sorry." beomgyu sighed, "it's just that…you know, guys are kind of sneaky. he probably just told you that he wanted to hangout at your place but who knows what he would've tried with you when he had you alone in here."
you squirmed in your beanbag, uncomfortable with the thought that your friend was possibly trying to sleep with you, even if you still didn't really believe such a thing. not to mention it's kind of embarrassing to talk about this sort of thing with your stepbrother. "i don't know if that's true…i don't think anyone has even had a crush on me before."
beomgyu knows that is certainly not the truth but he can't find it in him to tell you that. "what i'm trying to say is that your first time should be with someone you really trust. someone you know isn't gonna hurt you…someone like me."
your face heated up and you couldn't stop the immediate visual of beomgyu laying you down in your bed and being oh-so gentle with you. you tried to ignore it, because you don't think you should be thinking of him like that—besides, that can't be what he means.
"what are you trying to say?"
he squeezes your thigh like he's trying to reassure you or maybe calm you down, maybe he can tell how fast your heart is beating. "i mean, you're definitely curious, aren't you? if your first time is going to be with anyone, it should be me, since you can trust me, right?" he said—beginning to run his hand up your thigh and up your stomach to find the hem of your crop top, playing at it with his fingers.
beomgyu wasn't wrong, you're curious. you've touched yourself many of times before, but you don't even have any toys, and you've never been brave enough to use anything other than your fingers. you might be kind of naive, but you still want to know what the real thing feels like.
"we don't have to, if you don't want." beomgyu adds, though he doesn't stop playing with the hem of your shirt and you realize that his fingers are playing a little too close to your breasts, but you don't say anything. "n-no, i…i don't know. i'm just thinking."
"what is it that has you nervous, sis?"
you gulp, rubbing your knees together. "are you really sure we should do something like that? you and i?" you ask and beomgyu has to hold back a smile because he knows you're leaning towards letting him have his way with you. "why shouldn't we? like i said, we trust each other and it's not like we're doing anything bad. plenty of stepsiblings do this sort of thing, there are even stepsiblings who date each other."
"oh…well, if that's true…then it's probably okay, right?" you ask him with a hint of hope in your voice and this time, beomgyu allows himself to smile. "of course it's okay. i'll go real slow, so don't worry too much, you just tell me if you want me to stop?"
you nodded, though beomgyu could tell you were still nervous. "h-how are we supposed to start?" you ask him as he leaned in closer and he ran his fingers down your side, "people usually start with kissing, are you okay with that?"
you give yourself a minute to think, wondering if you think you'll end up getting too nervous after a kiss or two. but you do really trust beomgyu, you trust him with your life, so you think you'll be okay. "yeah, that's fine…"
beomgyu was quick to bring his other hand up to cup your face, bringing you closer to him as he pressed his chapped lips against your soft ones—he was gentle with you as to not freak you out too much. the hand on your face travels down to your neck while his other hand remains on your side. unfortunately, you pull away to take a breath.
he watches your face as you lick your lips, looking for any signs of discomfort and he doesn't see any, so he smiles. "was that good?"
a smile breaks out on your face and you let out a giggle, "it was really good. you're a good kisser…i think." you tell him—biting your lip. beomgyu laughs at your cute behavior and leans in to press another kiss to your lips.
"come here," he whispers, standing up from the beanbag and grabbing your hands to stand you up with him. you almost asked him what he was doing, but decided to trust him. the boy picked you up, earning a squeal from you.
your bed, covered in a white blanket with pink flowers—which is fitting for you, he thinks—squeaks a little as beomgyu lays you down, he digs his fingers into the hem of your shorts, but he speaks before he takes them off. "can i take these off?"
your face heats up, growing shy from the realization that he's going to see you naked, but you're too turned on to back out, and you wonder why he's asking when it feels like he was already going to. "y-yeah." you stammer and immediately after your go ahead, he takes them off, throwing them to the floor and being met with your lacy panties.
he noticed the wet patch in the middle, smiling to himself, proud to have gotten you like this. he presses two of his fingers to your clothed cunt and you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut. while beomgyu rubs your pussy in small circles and up and down, he leans down to press kisses to your neck and along your collarbone.
with his free hand, he rides it up your stomach and into your shirt. you feel him grin against your skin when he feels you have no bra on, "you're wearing this with no bra? jeez, were you wanting to flash me tonight?" he asks you with a laugh and you only whine in response.
he ghosts his thumb over your hardened nipple and you gasp. when you feel his lips leave your skin, you open your eyes to look at him and you see him smiling down at you. "i'm gonna take your panties off now, okay?" beomgyu tells you and he waits a short second in case you wanted to say no, but you nod, "just…be nice."
"of course, sis." he says before pulling your panties down, revealing your pretty pussy—he feels his cock straining against his sweatpants. struck with an idea, beomgyu grins. once he throws your panties to the floor, he grabs your wrist and presses your hand to his cock, watching the way your eyes go wide, "beomgyu!"
"see? you're so pretty, you've got me all worked up, too." he reassures you, "can't wait to feel your pretty cunt around me." beomgyu admits. "i've dreamt of this, you know."
"what?" you ask him in disbelief, "have you really…?"
"how couldn't i when you're just so cute?" beomgyu chuckles, bringing his fingers up to your mouth. "lick my fingers for me so i can stuff you with them." he says, his words are embarrassing and they fluster you, but you obey him anyway—keeping your eyes on him as you hesitantly take them into your mouth.
beomgyu's thoughts wonder as he feels your tongue swirling around his fingers. he thinks about how your tongue would feel on his cock and he starts to wonder if maybe he's not entirely doing this just to piss off your dad anymore. maybe he's partially doing this for himself.
he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, "good girl." he praises you and the way you smile makes it clear that you like it. pressing his fingers to your entrance, he pushes them in slowly, watching your face carefully, he notices your brows furrowing. "it's not too much, is it?"
you shake your head, "no…it's okay, just more than what i'm used to. y-your fingers are longer than mine." you sigh, letting out quiet moans as he continues pushing his fingers deeper inside of you. "your moans are so cute." beomgyu tells you with a soft laugh and it earns an embarrassed whine from you. he means it, too.
beomgyu curls his fingers and you sigh deeply, "that's good." you whispered as he slowly pumps his fingers. "just getting you ready for me."
"w-what do you mean?" you stammer, a moan escaping your throat right after. you try to hold back your moans but his fingers feel so much better than yours and the butterflies in your stomach are going crazy, so you just can't.
"means i don't want to hurt you." beomgyu explained, he thinks that going into detail would've scared you and selfishly, he doesn't really want you backing out now. he worries a little when he notices you frown, "gyu…your fingers feel good but i— i really want you to, uhm, you know…"
his heart soars at your confession, plus the fact you're too shy to tell him that you want him to fuck you and he smiles, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. "you'll get to feel my cock real soon, i promise."
you reply with a barely audible 'okay', allowing yourself to focus more on the feeling of his fingers stuffed inside of you—you're a little afraid that you may never be able to feel as good as you do right now with your own fingers.
with his free hand, beomgyu lifts your crop top, exposing your breasts. you want to cover yourself but you can't find it in you to move your hands as he eyes your tits. he takes your nipple between his thumb and index finger, squeezing it gently before letting go. "such pretty tits, too. you really are the cutest."
butterflies continue to explode in your stomach, no one has ever complimented your body—especially not like this, and you think something about hearing it from your stepbrother is making it ten times better and a part of you wonders if you should feel wrong for that.
beomgyu finally pulls his fingers out of you. slowly, but he does. you watch him as he lifts his hand up and spreads his fingers apart to see your arousal. you hear him let out a curse under his breath before he licks his fingers clean, "shit. i'd love to taste you someday." he says and beomgyu thinks about it for a minute, being in between your thighs, your hand gripping at his hair while you squirm and tell him it's too much.
"maybe next time we can taste each other." beomgyu offers. next time, you think. a next time sounds nice. "you'll…have to teach me." you know he knows that, but you told him in case for some reason he thought otherwise.
"i don't mind." beomgyu assured you with a smile. "you think you're ready for me?"
you gulped, glancing down at the obvious tent in his sweatpants. you squirm and you're incredibly nervous. "is it gonna hurt?" you ask, looking back up at him and meeting his gaze.
"we'll go slow." he said before pulling down his sweatpants, letting his cock spring free. spitting in his hand, he stroked his dick before lining it up with your entrance and he slowly starts pushing the tip of his cock in.
"wait, wait!" you suddenly exclaim and his movements stop immediately, his head snapping up to look at you. "aren't we supposed to be using something? like— like a condom?"
fuck. beomgyu thinks. "it's okay, we don't need one. it'll be fine, you trust me, don't you?"
"of course i do, gyu, but i thought—"
"then it'll be fine, sis, don't worry."
his words don't totally calm you down but you don't want to stop now, so you push your worries down. "o-okay. okay…if it'll be fine."
beomgyu lets out a breath of relief and he hopes you don't notice. continuing to slowly push his cock into your cunt, he goes in between watching the way your pussy swallows him and your face, which contorts from the stretch. "you feeling okay?"
"yes, yes…keep going, please." you reassure him and he hopes you're not just pushing through any sort of discomfort. either way, beomgyu kept going until his pelvis was flush with yours, and you dragged out a moan when you felt his cock buried inside of you.
beomgyu grabbed your hands, intertwining your fingers with his and placing both of your hands by your head. he squeezed your small hands, offering you a lazy smile. "okay?"
"okay." you said with an eager nod, "feels so…full."
as much as beomgyu knew he should wait a moment, let you adjust, he couldn't wait any longer. "i'm gonna move now." he warned you—waiting until you gave him a nod before he started pulling out slowly, letting just the head of his cock rest inside of you, before pushing himself back in.
you couldn't hold back the moans from escaping your throat and your noises had beomgyu grinning, not to mention the low groans that left his throat, too.
beomgyu squeezed your hands again, finding himself starting to go a little faster than he maybe should be. "your cunt feels so good around my cock, sis."
your bed started to creak as beomgyu's pace fastened and the head of your bedframe began to hit against the wall lightly, all while your moans grew in volume. suddenly, you remembered the fact that your dad was still right across the hall from you—that he had work tomorrow and that he definitely wasn't the world's deepest sleeper.
"o-oh, gyu! too loud, we're gonna—"
"shh, no, no. it's fine, your daddy won't hear anything." beomgyu insists. he's lying to you but you don't know that. "don't think about that, just focus on how i'm making you feel. it's just you and i right now."
you want to believe that no one can hear you two but you have your doubts, yet the way he's fucking into you is starting to feel so good, and the way the speed of his pace keeps increasing, you can't find it in you to really care.
beomgyu pulled one of his hands out from yours, earning you a frown, but it was quick to fade and your mouth fell open when he pressed the pad of his thumb to your clit—rubbing it in small circles, a whine left you as your back arched slightly off the bed. "fuck! s-so good, gyu!"
he grins hearing you swear, it's something you don't usually do, and it's definitely not something you do in front of your father. but even disregarding your father, knowing he's making you feel so good that he got such a reaction out of you, it inflates his ego. it makes him feel good.
your bed continues to creak and thump against the wall, along with the sound of skin slapping, as beomgyu fucks you—it's still not as hard as he's really wanting to but he still doesn't want to hurt you. besides, he thinks it'll be good as another excuse to fuck you again sometime, anyway.
"i'm gonna cum, gyu." you squeak out.
beomgyu can feel the excitement in his stomach, eager to feel you cum around his cock. "so soon, baby?" he teases you with a laugh and you whine in embarrassment. "i-i'm sorry…!"
leaning down, he places a kiss on your cheek. "it's okay, i know it feels really good. i'll cum with you, okay?" beomgyu says before his thrusts start to grow sloppy, rubbing faster circles around your clit and he's fucking you harder than he was just a moment ago. he's a little worried you won't be able to take it, but from your moans and whines, you seem to be taking it well.
"kiss me, kiss me, please." you manage to get out and this time, you squeeze beomgyu's hand. "i want you to kiss me."
beomgyu's quick to smash his lips against yours and you don't know it, but the same butterflies that were in your stomach are in his, too. you're thankful he doesn't pull away from your lips as you come undone around his cock and clenching around him, moaning into his mouth—moans he happily swallows.
it feels good as beomgyu fucks you through your high, and his lips are still attached to yours, but the stimulation eventually becomes too much, between him rubbing your clit and continuing to fuck into you, desperately chasing his own orgasm—squeezing in hand and humming against his lips in some attempt to get him to stop but he doesn't, and you're squirming against the bed.
he's so close, though, that he doesn't stop, regardless of your whimpering and squirming, the way your leg twitches from the overstimulation, too.
just as you think beomgyu might have you cumming again, he pulls his hand away and his thrusts come to a halt. he keeps his cock buried in your pussy as he cums. pulling away from your lips, a hoarse groan leaves his throat—his chest heaving.
"you came inside." you spoke up with a pout. beomgyu blinks, like he was out of it for a moment and trying to come back, which he likely was. "sorry, sis. you just felt so good, i think you're the best i've ever had." he tells you with a lazy smile, "it'll be fine."
you nod hesitantly. you trust him but you're still a little worried. you're also worried that you'll never be able to get off on your own again now that you've felt both beomgyu's fingers and his cock.
"what are you thinking about?" beomgyu asks you, his voice is soft and he still hasn't pulled himself out of you yet, but it's somewhat comforting.
it's embarrassing to answer his question but you don't want to ignore it either. "how good you felt." you admit quietly. "and if i'll ever be able to…feel good on my own again."
beomgyu chuckles at your worries. it's kind of…cute, he thinks. "if you ever need my help, you know where my bedroom is."
you fall silent as you process his words. does he want to do this again with you? is it wrong for you to hope he does?
he finally pulls himself out of you and you whine quietly at the loss. "you'll feel me again sometime, don't worry." he reassures you as he pulls his sweatpants back up.
you lick your lips and find the courage in yourself to ask. "do… i mean— you want to do it? again?"
beomgyu smiles at you again, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. "i still have a lot to teach you, don't i?"
beomgyu fell asleep in your bed that night, arms wrapped around you as you both dozed off. despite your activities, the two of you still fell asleep relatively early, but the sound of doors and cabinets slamming was enough to wake you both.
you hum in complaint from the noise while beomgyu yawns and starts to wipe his eyes. reaching out, he grabbed your phone off your nightstand to check the time. 6:03am.
"why's he being so loud?" you ask, muffled as your face was nuzzled into neck. you knew it was your dad making all the ruckus because who else could it be?
beomgyu was pretty sure he could answer your question, but he wasn't going to tell you that it was certainly because your father heard him fucking you last night. "i'll go make sure he's okay." he says before pulling away from you, starting to slide out of your bed.
if you weren't so tired, you'd question his intentions because you know the two don't get along at all, but all you wanted was to fall back asleep, so you hum in acknowledgement and let him. "don't be gone too long." you mumbled.
he doesn't say anything but he smiles at the thought that you still wanted to cuddle as he leaves your room, quietly shutting your door as he made his way downstairs. your father was still making a ton of noise, dishes clashing in the sink and more cabinets slamming.
beomgyu walks into the kitchen to see the one and only and he can't seem to wipe the smirk off his face even as your father turns to look at him. he wasn't just pissed, he was seething.
your father was quick to approach beomgyu, grabbing at the collar of his shirt. his brows were furrowed and his teeth were clenched, "you're lucky i don't kill you here right now, you piece of shit."
he laughs at his reaction. this is exactly what he wanted. "guess you shouldn't shelter your daughter so much next time." beomgyu tells him with a shrug before he's roughly let go. he stumbles a little but he doesn't fall.
your father scoffs and he places his hands on his hips. it's like he's so angry he doesn't know what to do with himself. "you're fucking crazy if you don't think i'll tell your mother, beomgyu. that her son's a disgusting, lowlife piece of shit."
the idea of him telling his mom does worry him a little, but beomgyu tries not to let it show. "i mean, you can try. i really don't think she'll believe you." he told your father. "we'll try to keep it down next time, though."
beomgyu thinks he might just earn a punch to the face from the way he notices your father balling up his fists. hell, he might just get beat entirely—even if he does, he'd still fuck you again in a heartbeat. whether it was to piss your father off or not.
"what's going on?" your soft voice suddenly interjects and if your father was about to beat the life out of beomgyu, you've just saved him. they both look at you, beomgyu looks careless while your father looks angry. beomgyu wonders what made you decide to come down, if you realized that it wasn't like him to make sure your father was okay, or maybe you just had a gut feeling.
you're all staring at one another and everything's silent. beomgyu has nothing to say, you're clueless as to what's happening and your father is trying to decide whether or not he wants to confront you about what he heard last night.
"daddy?" you question with a tilt to your head, you're waiting for him to say something but he doesn't. he only sighs and shakes his head, grabbing his keys off the kitchen counter and bumping into beomgyu as he walked out of the kitchen and eventually out of the house, slamming the door shut.
beomgyu wonders why he didn't say anything, but he figures that your father couldn't handle the reality that his little girl really let her stepbrother fuck him. he probably thought he raised you better.
you were pouting, though, turning your head to beomgyu. "he usually says bye to me. did i do something wrong? did he tell you?"
beomgyu shook his head, bringing his hand up to pat your head. "probably just had a rough morning." he reassures you. he certainly had a rough time sleeping last night.
"say, you're free today, aren't you?" beomgyu asks you with a smile and your pout starts to disappear as you nod. "yeah, why?"
"i'll take you for a ride in my car. my treat."
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a/n; i dont rly care for how this came out but i think its a little better than the first one i wrote TT also this is probably my second time ever writing conflict so i hope it's not too bad :') </3
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bunnys-kisses · 15 days
Text
cum stained logos
max verstappen
cw: smut/pwp, the 2024 red bull driving uniform, uniform kink, oral sex
bunny says: reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated! I love feedback!! i am looking (dis)respectfully mr. verstappen, been thinkin about this image.
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the driving uniform was a core feature of formula one, it was a showcase of sponsors while also being a protector for the driver. there was a reason why technically the uniform was in two layers.
max was proud to wear red bull, even off the track he wore is quite frequently. you once made a comment asking if he got this stuff for free and that was why there was so much of it in his closet.
"you like it." he responded as he placed his hands on your shoulders and went in for a kiss on your cheek from behind, "i know how you look at me after a race. red bull across my chest."
you looked behind yourself to him and made a face, "i love a man in uniform so." you shrugged.
the idea buried itself in max's brain like a seed. it soon grew into a hefty idea to make you squirm.
for max it wasn't hard to get his driving suit into his bag and back to his home. everyone assumed he was just very dedicated to racing (which was a correct assumption), but max verstappen would never do anything nefarious with it. to ruin the red bull legacy and brand.
so the look on your face when you went into the bathroom and saw him zipping up the dark blue uniform was a nice surprise. he looked over at you and smiled, "like what you see?"
you swallowed, "how did you even-"
he turned around, it was still partially unzipped giving you a clear view that he was not wearing the fire proof protection underneath. he had no reason to really wear it, while sex with you was hot. it was no fire hazard.
you adverted your eyes and swallowed, "max... how?"
he chuckled and went up to you. he placed his hands on his shoulders and leaned in for a kiss. when he pulled away soon after he said, "i want to show the integrity of the red bull brand.
he then laughed, "i'm joking. i wanted you to suck my cock while i wore it. after all, you liked men in uniform."
your eyes went wide for a moment, "every day you surprise me, max." then your hand was taken by your boyfriend and led back to the bedroom.
he looked over his shoulder as he led you and said, "well, you have a whole lifetime of surprises then." he got on the bed, with his back up against the headboard. he patted his thigh and you got between his legs.
"sometimes i forget how hot you are." you admitted.
he raised an eyebrow, "well, i guess i have to remind you then." then gestured for you to unzip the suit. he watched you careful eyes as you slowly unzipped it.
you felt your hand shake from anticipation as you zipped it all the way down, exposed his toned torso to you. you swallowed when you eyes trailed to his cock which was clothed by a pair of briefs. you noticed the bulge in them.
"like it?" he asked.
you looked up at him, "max, the first time i saw it on accident my jaw hit the floor. remember what i asked you?"
he scratched his jaw a little flustered, "you asked me if when i get hard if i lose all the blood in my head."
you nodded and reached for the waistband of his briefs. you pulled his cock out and without thinking licking your lips. you felt a shudder in your heart. you kissed the leaky tip and sighed contently.
this entire situation was hot. he looked good in the driver's suit. he looked good with red bull and the other branding across his body. he was a good racer and got good sponsors. he also had an impressive cock that fit nicely in your throat.
it was hefty and big, but not terrifying. it was a snug fit, but not a painful stretch. it was perfect just like the rest of him. you heard him relax further against the headboard and his large hand found the back of your head.
"ik had dit eerder moeten doen. als ik het had geweten, fuck." he shifted on the bed and let you take all of him in his mouth. as much as you threw around that max was a kinky man, you were almost toe to toe with him.
he knew you tried to act surprised, but he knew that you ate up any chance at exploring aspects of sex. and sometimes that meant him stealing his driving suit and letting you suck him off.
you held onto his thighs for support, the fabric under his fingers grounded you as you sucked him off. your eyes fluttered closed as you bobbed your head up and down.
your mouth felt like a dream. he held onto you and rocked up a little against your mouth.
"you feel so good." he panted as he felt the heat in his body. his heart was a loud thump in his ears as he stroked your hair. you looked so good laid out between his legs with his cock in your throat.
it was so painfully dirty that it lit a fire in max's stomach. he softly met your pace and pushed his cock a little further into your throat. he exhaled deeply as you just took him so well.
"do you like the uniform?" he asked, "maybe next time i'll fuck you while you're wearing it. " he chuckled a little.
you got your mouth off of him and stroked his cock quickly, "don't get cocky." you raised your eyebrows then leaned in to lick the swollen head, "not a good look on you."
he gripped your hair a little tighter and replied, "but you love it." then guided your mouth back onto his cock. he set the pace a little bit as he moved your head up and down his cock.
you got it slick all the way to his balls. his cock felt good on your tongue as you felt the heat curl in your stomach. the heat throbbed in your head.
you two continued to work together. the soft noises and the sounds of your mouth on his cock were in the air. the soft curses and heavy pants. the shifts on the bed.
max was deeply in love with you, not that it was something that you questioned. but when you were sucking the soul of out him, he felt a big swell of pride in his chest that you were his.
"shit, i'm close." he groaned, the sweat caused the suit to stick to his back. it felt good, but he was reaching his peak.
you pulled your mouth away from his cock and hastily jerked him off. you were both panting with an intense head rush. max ran his fingers through his hair once more before he tensed up and climaxed.
ropes of hot cum reached across his chest and splattered onto a few of the logos on the uniform. but he couldn't care in that moment. he did wish that he got to finish all over those cute cheeks of yours.
no time like the present for that dream as he reached down and pulled your mouth up against his still erect cock. between heavy pants he said, "keep it in your mouth next time. clean me up.'
you looked back up at him before you started to lick his cock. your core throbbed, you'd get yours soon enough. but your driver boyfriend wasn't done yet. <3
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frudoo · 11 days
Text
I’m so soft for Simon today y’all.
Warnings: Slight angst—lots of crying. Hurt/comfort. Brief mentions of abuse but nothing specific. Overuse of italics lmaooo. Fem!Reader. Simon is sad :(
“Love?”
Simon’s been quiet ever since the two of you left the Garricks’ house. Kyle’s wife had cooked a lovely dinner, and afterwards everybody moved to chat in the living room. Your friends’ kiddos had been climbing over you and loving on you all night, jumping in your lap or begging you to play games with them. That’s when you noticed your husband’s frown—you had just assumed his social battery had run out, but looking back now, none of the signs were there. No short temper, no irritability, no desperate glances over to you trying to convey that he was ready to leave. Now, as you both lay in bed, he speaks for the first time in what feels like hours.
“Yeah, Si? Everything okay?”
He sucks in a deep breath, and you frown. Your husband has never been one to hold his tongue. It makes your heart pound with worry as you reach over to turn your bedside lamp on. Before you get the chance to turn and face him, he wraps his burly arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. You gently raise your hand to scratch the back of his head, fingernails grazing his scalp.
“D’you ever regret marryin’ me?” His voice is so small, carrying the weight of uncertainty and the fear that you’ll tell him exactly what he’s expecting to hear, to break him further.
Your fingers stall their movements and you forget how to breathe all of a sudden. Simon’s breath is labored against your neck, too hot to be normal, too wet to be anything other than the telltale sign of him about to break down. It’s a rarity that he cries, but when he does, it’s the most excruciating thing you can imagine. You can feel his pain like it’s your own. The second his first teardrop falls onto your skin, you finally turn to look at him.
His deep brown eyes are far too glossy for your liking, long blond lashes clumped together by morsels of liquid lies his brain forces him to believe.
“Never,” you frown, rubbing the tip of your thumb over the cleft separating his top lip. “Oh, sugar, what’s brought this on?”
“Y’deserve better than me,” his voice breaks mid-sentence, raspy and raw. “Someone who can- who can make y’happy. Give y’things tha’ I can’t.”
You lean forward to nuzzle your nose against his, gently locking lips with him in a short, tender kiss. You sigh into his mouth, uncaring of the snot and spittle that runs down his face. You’re just about there with him.
“You do make me happy, Simon Riley,” the whispered promise gently whisks across his face like an autumn breeze, refreshing yet not enough to calm his racing brain. “You’ve given me everything I could ask for and more.”
“No. You’ve… you’ve had t’make too many sacrifices f’me, and I don’t deserve tha’. I fucked y’over, and- and stomped on your dreams.”
“Simon, you haven’t-”
“You’d make such a good mum.”
Your mouth snaps shut, teeth grinding together from the sudden motion. Motherhood is a soft spot for you, and he knows it. When Simon first brought up the idea of marriage, he had made it clear that he didn’t want kids—too much risk of him ending up like his father, he explained. It broke your heart, but the thought of living a life where he wasn’t yours hurt far worse. In favor of being his wife, you pushed away the desire to have children, counting on being an auntie or something equivalent to your friends’ little ones.
You bite your lip, trying to blink back tears. He’s just saying this out of hurt.
“Seein’ y’with Gaz’s kids jus’...” Simon trails off, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. “You’re so sweet with ‘em. Fuckin’- you- you’re perfection, lovie, and you’re settlin’ for a monster like me.”
The tears don’t cease this time. A weak sob rips from your throat, and you dig your nails into his bicep to make him listen.
“You are not a monster. Y-you’re the love of my life,” your lip quivers, hurt evident in your tone. “I married you because I love you, Simon. Because I see what’s beneath the surface. You’re gentle, you’re caring—Si, you’re beautiful. You’re a good person, even if you can’t see it. I see it.”
“I wanna see it,” he murmurs, swallowing hard. “Wanna be better f’you.”
You shake your head softly, a sad smile stretching your lips as you wipe your tears. Pressing your forehead against his, you intertwine fingers with him.
“You’d make an amazing dad.”
It’s Simon’s turn to tense up, squeezing your hand a little tighter but not near enough to hurt—it just proves to you further what a sweet person he can be, that he is underneath his Ghost persona. You’ve never met Ghost, Simon absolutely refuses to let you see the side of him that the rest of the world does, but you know in your bones that even he wouldn’t hurt a hair on your head.
“Love, no, I-I can’t- no. I couldn’t live w’myself if… if I-”
“The fact that you’re so afraid of doing anything wrong is what makes me certain you’d be incredible,” you interrupt, pulling back to look at him sternly, although the fondness that hides in your eyes softens the blow.
“Wha’ if I end up hurtin’ ‘em? Get mad at ‘em and- and I hurt m’own child,” he gasps softly, nervously rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.
“Bullshit. You would never. Si, you couldn’t even bring yourself to kill the moles in our yard, and you expect me to believe that you could lay a hand on a—your child?” You scoff, cupping his scarred face in your hands and moving to straddle him.
“Lovie, m’not a good man,” he frowns, leaning into the soft warmth of your palms. “Got m’father’s DNA-”
“Stop that. You are nothing like that man. I don’t give a fuck what it is you do out on the field, but you have never once brought it into our home,” you huff, hands shaking slightly. “You know the difference between your enemies and your family even on your worst days. That’s more than you could say for your father.”
Your skin is tacky with his tears that continue to fall even when he’s rendered silent. Gently, you redirect his arms so that they wrap around your waist, warm and sturdy.
“I know you’re scared,” you whisper, tenderly rubbing his temples with your thumbs. “But have I ever lied to you?”
“Never,” Simon admits quietly, sniffling.
“Then believe me when I tell you I’m not lying now. You’re a good man, Simon Riley—to me, to your friends, and you will be to our kids. I swear it.”
He’s stubbornly avoiding your gaze, and you can tell he’s genuinely thinking about it. Gently, you press a kiss to the tip of his crooked nose.
“Let’s go to bed, hm? Sleep on it, baby,” you suggest, nuzzling your face into his neck.
You feel him nod and pull you down so that you’re laying on top of him—a comforting blanket of love that he needs you to remind him he deserves. He reaches over to turn your bedside lamp back off again, reveling in the cool darkness that engulfs the two of you.
“I love you,” he mutters, tracing random patterns along your back with his calloused fingertips.
“I love you more, big guy.”
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wannabeanotter · 2 months
Text
Genetics (twink to bear tf)
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"Urgh, you know what I fucking hate? Fat men. Like, bears, you know? It's just so gross. I can't believe they don't take care of their bodies"
I fucking hate twinks like this. Just because he's skinny, smooth, pretty, he thinks he's so special? It's just genetics! It's not anyone else's fault their DNA has made them a real man, not like him.
If he thinks it's so fucking easy to be them, why doesn't he try walking a mile in their shoes?
Hmm...
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SNAP - a nice, big, pair of work boots (don't mind the smell). Their last owner has soaked then nice and deep in sweat, and the traces of DNA left in them will be just what this twink needs to remodel his life.
I leave them in his bedroom. When he finds them, his curiosity will get the better of him, and as he slips them on his cells will start to squirm and wriggle and edit their genetic code into the perfect pig. His balls swell, pumping more and more testosterone around his body. His muscles thicken and bulge, and a layer of fat coats his stomach. He tries to yelp, but a low, rumbling growl comes out of the new, thick Adam's apple instead. When he clutches it, he feels that his hands are thicker, meatier.
A real man should have thick, sweaty armpit hair too. All that extra testosterone makes you stink, you know? It's intoxicating, and he reaches down and grabs his new, thick cock.
Fuuck, he smells great. At least, he thinks so ;)
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But damn bros, I dunno, do you think it's enough? That's not a bear, that's a cub at best
Cuz like, while his old twink genetics had kept his body hair to zero, in a real man, those follicles get turned on everywhere. His back, his hands, especially his ass. He should have after wave of dark hair creeping all over him, up over his shoulders, deep into his crack...
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And no one keeps up a gym routine forever. Eventually he'll start skipping, taking cheat days, and those things have consequences, ya know: big consequences. With all this new appetite his body starts to bulge, stretching out at the waist, each can of beer going straight into his new gut. His brain cells rewire - from now on, he's gonna be always hungry, always just wanting to sit on the couch, scratch his balls, and stuff his face like a pig
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There, bros, don't you think he's perfect? Of course when he snaps out of it, he's gonna scream, sob, and whinge about his new body, but I'm sure he'll come round eventually. He'll understand how much better it is to have a body like this, to have a set of genetics blessed by the god of pigs
But if not, hey, he can just lose some weight, right? It's so easy
[I hope this one is good! Remember, asks and dms are always open for tf requests or roleplay. Maybe tell me what you'd do to me, or request a visit from the god of pigs]
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