#I just need time to watch through the show to find ideas

[nyoomfruits]

i had the time of my life fighting dragons with you (carlos/oscar, 1k, t rated)

wrote this in a 20 min sprint with my tsgc gc besties <3 prompt was 'royalty au + "why are you covered in blood?" "long story"' so i wrote a carcar fantasy au heavily inspired by the book 'so this is ever after' by f.t. lukens and the dungeons and dragons movie :)

Oscar really only just manages to stagger himself outside before he collapses on the stone steps of the castle, feeling all the fight drain out of him. Behind him, the castle burns, and he should probably put that out, should probably try to find the other, but right now he’s just exhausted.

Three years of chasing prophecy all led to this. He needs a moment to breathe.

Which is of course, annoyingly, when Carlos shows up.

“Cabron,” he says, coming to halt in front of Oscar, smoothly dismounting his horse. There’s not a single spatter of blood on his clothes, not a hair out of place. His armor gleams in the soft warm light of the setting sun. Oscar hates him so much. “Why are you covered in blood?”

“Long story,” Oscar sighs, letting his head fall back against the stone railing of the stairs. Papaya, the little baby dragon they’d befriended on their journey, chooses that exact moment to trip through the large castle doors, skittering over the worn grey stones towards Oscar, chirping loudly.

“Hm,” Oscar says, scritches Papaya under his chin. “Well, tell him I’m okay, yeah. And to enjoy his moment. He did it and all,” he tries not to sound too wistful when he says it, as he watches Papaya skitter back into the castle. He’s just has a hard time accepting it’s all over now. Done. They can all go their separate ways.

Lando will probably have to do whatever The Chosen One has to do after they’ve defeated The Evil Wizard, George will go back to doing his whole Lord thing in the Kingdom of Mercedes, Alex and Logan will probably find a nice little inn to run somewhere. Charles will inevitably make some rich Lord fall for him and then never have to worry about money ever again, and Oscar.

Oscar will be alone. Like he was before.

“So he did it, then,” Carlos says, startling the shit out of Oscar, who had fully forgotten he was there. “Killed The Evil Wizard?”

“Yup,” Oscar says, pulling himself back up into standing with a loud groan. “You’ve got perfect timing, as always. Showing up when all the hard work is already done.”

Carlos ignores him. “And everyone is okay? Lando?”

“Everyone is fine, according to Papaya. Lando’s panicking a little bit but honestly I wouldn’t have suspected otherwise. Logan broke his leg, but Alex is already trying to heal him, so. All good,” Oscar sways on his legs a little, tries to hold on to the railing. Fuck. Maybe sitting down was a bad idea.

Carlos eyes him. “And you?”

“I’m fine,” Oscar grits out. He tries to take a step, and wavers. God, he’s so exhausted. His bones feel like mush. He’s not magic, like the others. He’s just Oscar, and he’s just spend hours fighting an unnecessarily large amount of The Evil Wizard’s minions.

He sways again, and suddenly Carlos is there, hand on his elbow, holding him upright. “You are hurt,” Carlos says, frowns.

“I’m fucking fine, Carlos, let me go,” he grits. God, he wishes they’d never bumped into Carlos back in the first year of their journey, in the Enchanted Woods. Fucking self-righteous magic ass knight always showing up when Oscar’s at his worst.

Carlos, as always, completely ignores Oscar’s request. “Let me get you back inside.”

“No, I’m, no,” Oscar protests, as Carlos starts leading him back up the stairs, struggling a little. “Carlos, let me go.”

Carlos doesn’t let him go, but he stops walking, looks at him for a really long time. “You were never planning on going back inside,” he says, eventually.

Oscar looks back down the stairs, at a moss stain a few steps down, stubbornly refuses to look at Carlos. “Fuck off,” he says, eloquently.

“Your friends,” Carlos says. “They would miss you.”

“Right, sure,” Oscar says, finally turns back to look at him. “Would they, though? Lando’s probably like, King now. George is already a Lord, Charles will probably marry one, and Alex and Logan have each other. What do I have?”

“Me,” Carlos says, and Oscar snorts.

“Oh, yeah, great. Fucking consolation price, that. No thank you,” he goes to yank his arm away again, walk back down the stairs, but Carlos holds on.

“And Lando,” Carlos continues. “And all your other friends. They care about you. I care about you. If you are not going back inside, at least come with me. I could use someone like you, on my journeys.”

“Yeah, really not making me feel better here,” Oscar spits. “Just. It’s fine, okay. I know Lando only took me along because I was the only one in our village to read maps. I know they see me as a burden. So it’s like, fine. It’s whatever. I can just slip out now and they’ll never have to see me again and it doesn’t have to be this whole big deal.”

Carlos makes a frustrated noise, and suddenly he lunges forward and kisses Oscar full on the mouth.

Oscar is still very much exhausted and very much covered in blood and very much confused, and so he doesn’t even consider kissing back until Carlos is already pulling away. He’s glaring at Oscar, something that’s somehow both slightly undermined and slightly made creepier by the fact that there’s now a smear of blood on his perfectly moisturized cheek.

“Do not ever say again people see you as a burden,” Carlos tells him, so firmly and adamantly, that Oscar can only look at him a little wide eyed and say, “Okay.”

“Good,” Carlos says, and then his frown drops, and he gingerly reaches out with the hand not still holding Oscar steady and carefully wiping a strand of hair away from Oscar’s blood stained forehead. “Now, let’s get you inside and clean you up, yeah? And then we can see how bad those injuries are.”

And Oscar. God, Oscar is so tired. And he hates Carlos so much. But Carlos is also looking at him so softly, so tenderly. And maybe he has never really hated Carlos at all. Maybe it’s always been something else. Something else that’s making his gut swirl and his throat feel tight. His lips are still tingling, and he only just manages to refrain himself from reaching up to touch them.

But then Carlos leans down and picks him up bridal style and Oscar thinks okay, yeah, no, never mind. He really does fucking hate Carlos fucking Sainz.

Or maybe, he thinks, as Carlos carries him back into the castle – that is thankfully no longer on fire -  back to their friends, back to their unsure future, as the sun finally fully sets behind them. Maybe it’s a mixture of both.

Either way, he can’t wait to find out. After a bath. And dinner. And possibly a million hours of sleep.

[serejae]

STUCK BY THE GLUE ! | ZB1

-

WHAT ! - zb1 with a crafty s/o

WHEN ! - (warnings) , petnames

WHO ! - (a/n) hi!! tysm for requesting this was so fun to make, and ahhh its so cool you like crocheting i wanna learn sometime c: but i hope this was up to standard and that you enjoy ml :-) keeep requesting guyssss <3

not proofreadddd

-

K.JIWOONG ;

! - this man is so chill about it pls.

! - he knows when the house is too quiet that it only means youre on your new fixation

! - whatever it is, painting, drawing, pottery, or crocheting he’ll love accompanying you during it, he’ll come out and sit by you and you both will yap. or if youre more of a listener he’ll tell you stories or just say random things while admiring the focused look on your face when you do the things you enjoy.

!- loves it when you make stuff for him. if you make something for him. a drawing? he’ll frame it or if its tiny enough will put it in his phone case. jewelry? will wear it all the time. keychain? if he put it on one bag and wanted to use another one, hes switching out the keychain

! - this man loves when you have such creative hobbies that you can tell him all about

Z.HAO ;

! - oh boy hes ready

! - whenever he finds out about your hobby automatically hes buying you supplies (he doesnt know what to buy he just searched up ‘needed materials for ______” ). and if you run out of storage, trust hes 5 steps ahead of you. he bought and figured out a organization plan so you wont have to dig through messy buckets for your materials

! - he just wants to see you happy and at peace, and your his ‘little creator’ or as what he calls you. you dont have to do nothing when your with him. just create, he’s got the rest (clean up crew)

! - when you make stuff for him, hes smiley on the outside, but crying on the inside. like his baby made THIS. for HIM?? he likes to gatekeep lowk…so he wont tell EVERYONE or be pushy about showing it off but itll be discreet. like to the point someone will have to ask, then he will talk about it. (he just likes the thought of keeping the things you made for him to himself >:)

! - such a supportive bf :’-)

S.HANBIN ;

! - okay i keep saying theyre supportive BUT TRUST

! - he likes to bother you while you do your projects, but he knows to keep some distance to keep you peace. so while your doing your craft in lalaland you hear “baby, babe, my love, honey, darling” in all sides of your ear, just for him to go “your so pretty” when you look at him…and you cant really be mad at that :-)

! - like jiwoong loves watching you from afar, but once he’s only focused on you thats when he shuts up (nicely) . he’s too busy admiring you and will definitely take some pictures of you for his wallpaper, homescreen, pfp, atp on his face

! - if you make something for him or his hamster collection (ddungjjungham or binni) he’s crying. “OH BABY FOR ME?” “for binni” “so for me😐”. we know he lost ddungjjungham (rip you baby) but somehow he didnt lose the hat and scarf you crocheted for ddungjjungham…

! - he loves you and wants to be as comforting to you as your hobby is

S.MATTHEW ;

! - has no idea whats going on but his amazing partners good at it so he loves it !!!

! - a “go kylie go!” boyfriend for sure. when your doing your hobby he sits there wondering what your doing, why your doing that, why does it look like that? but your doing it so it must be the right and only way. will look up videos to silently watch to see how the video explains the steps your doing

! - after a while of observing he starts the talking. he helicopter you, start looking the project in all different directions while asking when its gonna be done, whyd you do this technique, why are you so perfect? but its all in love and after like 5 minutes he lets you have your peace and watches you

! - when you make stuff for him he will not shut up. someone needs to put tape over his mouth. (if your in a world where idols can date, he’ll talk about it on streams) but to his members “y/n made me this” “oh look what y/n made” “why can you guys be like y/n 🫤” . i know gunwook is TIREDDDDD

! - a very curious and proud bf ^_^

K.TAERAE ;

! - hes so infactuated

! - he’ll be eating and watching you do your hobby and talk. watches your movements and listens to your peaceful voice. the best of both worlds. he doesnt ask too many questions or bother you too much, he just stares blankly and thinks “thats my soulmate”

! - if hes feeling like a pintresty boyfriend he’ll learn a song on his guitar and sing as you work, so you both can learn and do something together. he’ll often catch himself looking away from his chords tutorial and staring at you. the way your face is when your focused. hes just in love :-/

! - when you make him stuff hes in shock, cause you thought of him when you were doing what makes you happy? if you made him a keychain he’ll hang it onto his guitar case cover if you make him anything he can hangup or wear, he has a whole wall of just your creations and loves when people ask so he can just talk about how you made it, how talented you are, how you two met, how much he loves you, just you.

! - please let his man sing and serenade you as you do your hobby

S.RICKY ;

! - oh here comes mr perfect 😒 /j

! - if you guys didnt know ricky actually draws too and studied visual arts, so he’ll adore having a crafty s/o. he’ll first watch you do your hobby loving how at calm and zoned out you look. after a bit he creates lazy date nights where you both create your crafts and give them to each other. you’ll normally get a drawing or you or you and ricky from him and you give him your craft

! - please he’ll use the things you make him to the brim. a keychain? hanging it on all his bags. a painting or drawing? hes hanging it up on his bed side wall so when he sleeps he sees it. you make him a outfit peice (or outfit) will wear it every where he goes. cause everyone needs to see your outfit, and your outfit needs to see the world

! - loves it when he sees you put his work out and showing it off. he’s then reminded on why he enjoys art so much. you brought his soul out for him :’-)

! - just a crafty couple in their world

K.GYUVIN ;

! - hes one thats adventurous enough to actually attempt your crafts.

! - its not like the other members were intimidated but they enjoy letting you have your own thing to enjoy, something you can run to at the end of your stressful day. but gyuvin? he wants to destress with you

! - anything you wanna do? you start on it and he’ll watch a youtube video on how to do it. if you help him he’ll look at you with the most lovesick smile because your sharing YOUR hobby with him. at first hes pretty messy at the beginning but with a bit of help from you, hes got it down. before you could even make him something, he made your something first. (show off >:\) and he giggles each time he sees you with it…like you thought it was that good to keepppp?

! - when you make him stuff hes not crying (#2), not shutting up (#2), and screaming. hes so honored. he has so many photos in his camera roll and he’ll show them off as much as he can. but will be a little salty when you make more stuff for eumppappa then him but i guess its fine😒

! - a “whatever you do i do” bf :p

P.GUNWOOK ;

! - another admirer

! - loves the energy and dedication you put into your work and it’s definitely worth it. when you leave him alone he looks through your finished work and guesses how long it took for each one to be finished. and when he finds out hes always shocked even if his guess was right , your dedication is another reason why he loves you so much

! - if you come home unmotivated or tired for any reason, gunwook already has you covered. you look for your crafting materials but find that its not its normal spot. you walk out to ask gunwook only to find him set up blankets, snacks, and a movie with your materials on deck. “i figured you’d need it”

! - if you ever make him anything his jaw is on the floor cause theres no way you put your love and energy into this. something made for your boyfriend and only your boyfriend. he knows how to brag about you without making it so obvious like matthew. he’ll sneak it in so people will talk about it but wont tell him to shut up

! - cupid pls get this man up

H.YUJIN ;

(platonic :-)

! - is in total awe

! - how can someone just craft something like that with their mind and hands? he loves watching the process from start to finish. this is his version of asmr, the way your face focuses when you get the the certain part, how you plan it out so precisely.

! - please please please. if you do sewing make this man a plushie, he will sleep with it every night and take it everywhere. even if he doesnt make his bed he makes sure his stuffy is sitting just right and comfortable. if not make this man something bunny related. he’ll giggle each time he sees it.

! - if you make him anything he can hang up, hes putting it by his desk and thats his motivation for studying or anything. if hes feeling down, he’ll lean in his chair and see the silly bunny staring at him and get right back to work :)

! - so excited that you can do something you enjoy and he gets the product

[blankwashed]

(i’m toji’s slave this is just pwp (porn without plot) maybe a little idk)

toji nuzzled his nose against your neck, with hot-mouthed open kisses. he was marking yours as his, telling the other men that you are taken. toji growled as his free hand traced patterns on your bare-thighs.

“tell me what you want baby girl,” he rasped into your ears. “just say the word and i’ll give it to you,”

you didn’t realise how much power you had over him. was he just saying these because he felt indebted to you, after saving him from the police? a few hours ago, both of you were hanging out with a bunch of people from your class who suddenly had a bright idea to turn to the back alley of a street and smoke some weed(?). you refrained from doing such things that might harm your body despite them saying it wouldn’t so you were the odd-one out most of the time, always keeping a look out for them.

thankfully, this was a time where you were able to cover for them. a police officer just so happened to be patrolling the area at that time. it was because of your sharp ears and eyes all your friends were saved.

toji wasn’t even yours to begin with. but was surely one of the hottest.

“make love with me, toji. i’ve heard that you’re really good at making them scream…” you bit your lip and said softly, arching your back closer to him.

toji wasn’t going to be asked twice but wanted to tease you, to get you dripping for him before he started. “show me just how much you really want me, b’cos i’m very sure i’ve been thinking about fucking you for a long time, doll..”

groaning loudly, toji lifted you up and placed you on a desk. his large hands roamed over your body possessively, skimming over your shoulders and thighs.

oh your thighs, wouldn’t he love to be buried in between them.

he brought a hand to find your slick and smirked when he saw how ready you were for him. with no warning, he pushed two fingers inside your wet folds, stretching you in an arched angle. “that’s it babygirl,”

“let daddy take care of you.”

you weren’t able to keep quiet, moaning as if it was the last thing you were about to do on earth.

pleased with your response, toji continued to assault your body with gentle kisses and rough spanks. your body was definitely going to be bruised the next day.

his fingers picked up speed, causing you to arch your back off the mattress. “f-fuck, daddy…” you opened your eyes, never wanting this imagery to be removed from your mind.

“yeah that’s right slut. who’s your daddy?” he said while reaching your edge with his mere fingers. he took a nipple into his mouth, sucking it causing you to cry out in pleasure.

“c-cock….i want your cock, daddy..please..” you stopped him and said those few words while panting. they were right, toji fushiguro was one to tire people out,

toji smirked, “babygirl you think you’re ready for it? i was just worried that you needed more prep..” he said as his green eyes bore a hole in your soul.

you nodded, wasting no more time.

naked except for your shirt, toji climbed over you and brought his glistening thick cock to your entrance. without a warning, he plunged deep into your warmth.

“fuck!” you cried, he is actually filling you up in ways i didn’t know were possible. you felt so full.

“you okay mama?” he asked, fingers already bunching your hair up.

giving him a signal telling him that you were fine, it was time to get your mind blown away.

he pulled back enough to hit your cervix repeatedly, making you squirt and sending waves of pleasure cascading through your entire body.

over and over again, he repeated this motion, each thrust harder than the last.

you cried, “d-daddy doesn’t find this disgusting?” you managed to squeak out after panting.

“no doll,” he pulled his cock out of you abruptly, leaving you feeling empty and wanting more.

this time however, instead of moving, he stayed still, letting you set the pace and watching you for any sign of impending release. you were on top of him this time, swaying and jumping on his cock.

“mm daddy, please fuck me..i’m getting tired of riding you and i want to cum daddy please…” you pleaded.

his grip on your hips tightened as he picked up the pace, slamming into you harder than ever before. every hit of his cock seemed to be harder than the last, always hitting your spot making you see stars. you were begging, you were pleading for release.

and then suddenly it hit you, - an orgasm so intense that it left you breathless and trembling beneath him. a low groan left his mouth as he saw how submissive you were to him and followed suit; his hot seed filling you up deep inside.

[gaysullengirl]

❝ i'm tired of feeling like im fucking crazy. ❞

- lana del rey, ride

    "Reid." Hotch narrowed his eyes at him, "I apologize." Hotch continued.

"I don't." Spencer mumbled, just loud enough for Isabelle to hear, she bit her lip to stop a laugh from slipping out.

"We've heard those phrases before When we interview school shooters." Isabelle explained to the oblivious counselor.

Emily rushed into the room, "Jordan was the motive for Kyle Borden, it was revenge."

"I need to speak to the boys who made this video immediately."

"I'll check their class schedules." The counselor scrambled to his computer to find out, his face dropped immediately, "What is it?"

"None of them show up at school."

୨୧

The local police station smelled of finger printing ink and old coffee, Isabelle enjoyed the smell, it reminded her of when she was a detective for the nypd.

The team heard the familiar sound of Garcia urgently typing on her computer through the phone call, "He deleted everything but the one mpeg." She sighed.

"I'm walking Morgan through retrieving what he put in the trash, but-"

"We've got three missing kids, Garcia, we need access to Owen's E-Mail." Hotch clenched his jaw.

"The kid is tech savvy, sir, but fret not, I am tech savvier!" She exclaimed, "Is that a word? That sounds like a word, if it is a word, I am it!"

"Two alienated kids, no maternal presence, dysfunctional relationships with dominating fathers who with held love, they were made for each other." Rossi said.

Emily shook her head, "Mm, as lovers, yes, but partners in crime, no."

"There's nothing in Jordan's profile that indicates she's capable of violence, and certainly not murder."

"A new mpeg just posted to the school social networking site." Garcia breathed heavily, "He- you need to see this."

A video popped up on the screen, it was of three boys, all on their knees while their hands were on their head infront on a lake.

"It was a joke, man!" One of the boys said, "We didn't mean anything by it!" Another boy shouted, "It was 3 years ago, no one even remembers it." The last boy argued.

"I do." A voice behind the camera said.

"No, owen!" "Don't! Don't!" "Please! No-" The three boys pleaded, they were cut off by gunshots ringing out.

"Garcia, is there any way to trace the mpeg to the computer that sent it?"

୨୧

"Once you've heard the profile, you'll understand." Jj told the officers that were gathered around.

Hotch, Rossi, and Spencer went to the scene where the boys were killed and figured out Owen was collecting injustices- the perfect revenge.

"We are wasting time, Owen is here, and we should be knocking on doors." An officer argued. 

"It's not a good idea." "And why is that?" "Because Owen's watching, he's monitoring the news, right now, he thinks you think he's gone, he feels safe."

"If we start knocking on doors, he's gonna know that he's not, he's gonna feel trapped."

"Why the hell should we care about this little bastard's feelings?" Another officer chimed in.

Isabelle gritted her teeth, "We're here to help you bring in Owen Savage with minimum loss of life, the profile tells us how to do that, if all you're gonna do is bitch and complain then you can leave." She scoffed.

Spencer smiled at her, "Owen Savage fits the profile of a type of school shooter known as an injustice collector, he's trying to avenge perceived wrongs."

"If he's a school shooter, why hasn't he hit the school yet?"

"Jordan. Most of these guys are so angry and hopeless, they just want to kill as many people as possible then commit suicide." Emily explained.

"But Jordan gives him a reason to live."

Isabelle glanced at Spencer 'He gives me a reason to live.' She thought.

Isabelle hated that in so twisted way she related to Owen- she almost felt bad for him in a way.

Growing up in a small town and constantly being the outsider- no matter how hard he tried to fit in and find the acceptance of his peers he never did.

"Otherwise he's a textbook case, his life was one torment after another, his teachers gave up on him, his classmates bullied him, and his father blamed him while giving him access to guns." Spencer said.

"Given these conditions, you're actually quite fortunate." He added.

"It sounds like you're saying these victims deserved this."

"We're not, nobody deserves this." Derek said.

"But you could have prevented it." Spencer lowered his eyes at the officer.

"Reid, can I talk to you?" Hotch said, it was framed as a question but was more of a statement.

The two walked into an empty conference room only a few moments later they exited, Spencer stormed to the exit of the precinct.

Isabelle walked over to Hotch, "He's going to the Savages' residence." Hotch whispered, his eyes still focused on Spencer.

"Can I go with him?" She asked, Hotch's eyes darted to her face, profiling her.

"It's just- his room was really interesting and insightful, his mirror was painted over indicating severe self hatred-" "You can go." Hotch cut her off.

Isabelle quickly ran to the parking lot, getting into the suv parked outside.

"What are you doing?" Spencer asked, "I'm going with you. Hotch said I could."

Spencer just nodded and started driving.

A few minutes into the drive he turned to Isabelle, "I know what it's like to be afraid of your own mind." He admitted.

Isabelle immediately faced him, "I'm not." She lied, she wasn't just trying to convince him but herself as well.

Isabelle hated feeling crazy, when her feeling controlled her rather than her controlling them.

"I've seen the way you've been reacting this whole case." He looked to her.

"Isa, honey, I know you."

authors note!

sorry for the short chapter, next one will be longer trust🤞also i'm finally done with my school year so more consistent updates are afoot!

[givethemsmut]

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Seventeen | Where It All Started…

Dom brought me straight the WWE medical team, standing by my side with his arms folded up against his chest. The news stayed the same, I had lost the baby and the numbness I felt was overwhelming.

Maybe it was the pills they gave me helping to ease the pain but either way I felt far away.

Once the doctor confirmed, wrote some more prescriptions for more meds, Dom showed me to the Judgement Day bus. He had promos and damage control for being out.

“WWE scrapped the idea with Randy. Now I gotta find out what I’m doing. Doc said to take it easy so stay here, in bed. I’ll be back to check on you.” He said that before kissing my forehead and leaving me there.

Brushing off the clear worry across his face I got underdressed, crawling under the covers, and clamping my eyes down closed as the cramps kept pounding through me. The voices bullied me until I fell asleep finally.

Reaching for the bottle of pills before even reaching for my phone I swallowed two whole without any water.

Unlocking my phone I saw the texts from Dominik clouding my notifications when I read each one carefully.

Dom: Don’t watch RAW until I can talk to you.

Dom: Please just listen to me. I’ll explain later.

Dom: Text me when you wake up.

Dom: It’s too much to text. They want to do a storyline with Liv now that Rhea is out on injury. I’ll explain more later, I promise.

Dropping my phone down on the bed, searching for the remote, and flicking on the TV to RAW just like Dom advised me to not watch. It was just starting when I watched Liv in the middle of the ring with her title belt.

My phone buzzed and I saw his name come across the screen again.

Dom: I’m about to go out. It’s just a storyline. I’ll explain. Call me when you’re up.

I ignored his message and let all of my attention focus on the TV when Dom rushed out towards the stage trying to get a word in edgewise but couldn’t. The crowd was too loud shouting “you suck” for him to even defend himself.

Climbing the ring, toe-to-toe with Liv, she backed him into a corner. Caressing his face and hair I sat up straighter. It’s just a storyline echoed in my head but none of that mattered when you’re forced to watch it.

“I want everything Rhea has,” she almost had melody to her voice before Finn interrupted them.

I was glued to RAW, not daring to take my eyes off it and ignoring every call of Dom’s. He was ring side for another match when he slipped out of the ring only to be attacked by Liv’s mouth.

My boyfriend, the father of our child I lost, was kissing Liv for a storyline. The same girl who wanted him before.

Dom had exited the screen and almost a few moments later I got another call. Answering it I put it on speaker phone, letting it sit on the bed, while I debated the silence.

“It’s just a storyline. I have no control over the storyline. I didn’t even kiss her back.” He pleaded for some kind of mercy.

In a shaky whisper I responded, “I just lost our baby. That’s the last thing I need to happen, Dom.”

“Fuck,” was all I heard before the line went silent again.

“I shouldn’t be here, Dom. I thought being close to you would help but it’s not.” I tried not to cry but I couldn’t help it. The small sobs wrecked through my voice.

Hanging up I didn’t wait to exchange goodbyes when I locked the door to the back bedroom on the bus. Hiding next to the bed I sat on the floor crying knowing I had lost our baby.

The knock at the door was loud, forcing my shoulders to jump up to my ears. “Baby, please open the door. Let me explain their plan.”

I ignored him when my phone buzzed. Randy: Feel like escaping? I heard you’re hiding on some bus.

Me: Dom is trying to break the bedroom door down. Kind of busy.

Randy: I can creat a distraction. Gimme me five.

I laughed for the first time in over 24 hours. It felt familiar and comforting.

Yanking the door open I forced myself to look at him. “It’s just a storyline. You know we have to act, not just wrestle. I’m sorry you saw that, I tried to warn you, mi amore. I didn’t want you to see.”

“So it’s okay as long as I don’t see it? Dom. We aren’t just some new couple dating where my feelings are wildly invalidated. We’ve known each other forever, we were starting a family, and that shit is what we would do to hurt each other. Why don’t you get that? I finally gave in and we’re still playing old games.” I said it before grabbing my bag I brought with me and pushing past him.

“Where are you going?” Dom shouted after me but I kept walking. With his long legs it wasn’t hard to catch up to me, grabbing my arm and forcing me back until I collided with him. “Don’t fucking do this. Fans are right there, watching.”

“Watching you, not me. I’m gonna go book a hotel room. I just need some space.” I didn’t know what I needed but space sounded good. The wave of cramps shot through me like an actual bullet when my knees buckles and I grabbed onto Dom.

He held onto me, lowering down and shouting for security to get medical when everything seemed to blur out of focus. It was honestly a relief from trying so hard to fix everything and to give into him the way he wanted.

It felt deserved to just close my eyes and bow down to the pain tearing through me.

I woke up in a hospital hooked up to wires and machines chirping routinely. “Dom?”

I felt his hand before I heard his voice, “I’m right here. There was an infection, they did a procedure but you’re okay now.”

“I can’t have kids again?” I whispered my biggest fear out-loud since the first time we got pregnant.

His chair screamed against the tile floor, getting as close as he could. “They didn’t say that. We won’t know that. You just need to rest.”

“So going back home?” I knew the second the pain brought me to my knees I was going home. My body had freaked out, rejected the happiness and forced me to get all the space I threatened us with.

“For now. You need to rest. You can come back out for Mania babe. My mom is gonna stay with you.”

“I have friends…” We grew up adjunct to WWE, all my friends were mutual friends of Dom, other wrestlers.

“Finn is off before Mania. He can stay with you a few days.” Dom offered and I looked at him like he was kidding. “I have the rotation set up already.”

“Don’t joke. I don’t need babysitters.” I quipped before sitting up and feeling every sore spot come alive.

The nurse interrupted us when she swiftly got to my side and took my vitals. “We’ll discharge you tomorrow with everything you need. Cramping and bleeding are normal. Make sure you take your pain medication and call us if it exceeds the dosage.”

I took in every word. “When can we try again? When is it safe?”

The nurse’s face dropped and I wanted to crawl inside myself. “Sweetie, let your body heal first.”

Dom handed me my bag after she left and I rummaged through it for the pain pills. Swallowing them whole I pushed my earbuds in and drowned out the world. Everything felt broken inside of just me and I didn’t know how to handle that.

[strangerwheelerthings]

Deep Dive Into the Heart of Nancy Wheeler Masterpost

In this series I am going to be exploring many of Nancy Wheeler’s best character moments, and perhaps expand the meaning of a few scenes you haven’t thought much about. She's so much more than just the fierce smart one. Despite her many walls and people’s misunderstandings about her, this girl has a heart of gold. Here’s how I know.

(Links will be added as they are completed. Concepts will be changed and added as ideas develop, but here is the current outline of planned posts.)

Who was she before Barb’s Death:

Introduction

Identity Crisis

Best Friends

Older Sisterhood:

Talk with Mike (Season 1)

Concern (Season 1)

A Study of Traits:

Introversion in someone who knows how to talk

Why is Nancy such a Good Investigator? (It’s not what you think)

Courage: A Study of Reckless Behavior 

What are you willing to do for love?

The Unlikely Optimist

Patience is a Virtue: She's trying, I promise

A Fury Mined and Saved

Miscellaneous Scenes:

The Snowball Dance

Dinner at the Hollands

Instinctive Reaction to Flayed!Tom

The Cutest Witness

Officially Friends?

[cerise-on-top]

Hank, Sanford and Deimos with a Reader who does Handcrafts

Gonna post my old MadCom stuff since people seem interested in it! I didn't write too much back then, but I'll post it anyway and hope for some MadCom requests as well! What the title says! Reader knits, crochets and embroiders in this! The format is different from how I usually write, but that's because I wrote this months ago, if not in 2022! I don't remember when, but it's been a while since I wrote this!

Hank

If you get his attention while doing one of your crafts, expect him to just stare at you for a while. He knows what knitting is, since you can use those needles to stab someone with enough force, but he never really cared much for any of it. So, seeing you do those small, but precise movements has him somewhat curious. If you beckon him closer to check out what you’re doing, he will approach you, taking your piece from your hands and gently examining it, before returning it to you.

While he won’t join you that often due to his occupation, Hank will lie down next to you from time to time, watching you work until he falls asleep eventually. Doing so next to you, especially when you’re knitting or doing embroidery, takes a lot of trust on his behalf, so it’s a rather rare occurrence, but it might happen. Still, sometimes even Nevada’s most wanted can’t resist getting some sleep in.

If you give him a scarf or anything of the likes it might seem like he doesn’t like it at first. As he only grunts in acknowledgement and doesn’t wear it, it might seem disheartening at first glance. But rest assured, he’s well aware that him wearing it would only get it covered in blood, and he wouldn’t want your creation, that you put so much love into, to get sullied like that. Hank does keep it somewhere hidden where only he can find it so that it won’t get stolen as well, he truly does treasure anything you give him.

Sanford

He has helped his mother crocheting every once in a while when he was young by holding her wool for her. Sanford always thought it to be really cool how you can make something so beautiful out of something as simple as wool and yarn. Much like he did when he was younger, he’ll hold your yarn for you, making it more comfortable to knit or crochet for you. Unlike Hank and Deimos, he will try to learn it as well. It seems relaxing, so why not? But by no means is he a master. Due to his strength, he will likely rip the yarn and wool apart from time to time and come to you for help.

In order to relax and unwind a bit, he’ll likely come to you and ask if you would like to practise your craft for and with him. Having you around in and of itself already makes Sanford happy, but just getting to spend time with you without having to worry about being killed by the enemy makes it all the better. If you let him, he will hold you close, lean into you, put you on his lap, anything you’re comfortable with.

Please give him a sweater. Because he’s never wearing a shirt he gets cold fairly easily. He’ll cherish it dearly and wear it whenever he can, and whenever he knows it won’t get ripped. Another thing he’d be very happy with would be a piece of embroidery. It reminds him of better times and gives him hope, especially when your piece of art is something pleasant and sweet to look at. Because of that, he will put it up somewhere in his room where he can always see it. Even if Deimos makes fun of him for it, he will simply lightly jab at the smoker, all the while smiling at it.

Deimos

He’ll lovingly call you a grandma for having hobbies like these. Even while doing embroidery, where you stab things thousands of times, he will snicker at you whenever he catches you doing any of these things. Though, he doesn’t mind that sort of thing at all since that means you’ll be sitting still for a while, meaning you’ll give him a chance to unwind with him. Deimos will wrap his arms around you, leaning onto you or just cuddle into you in general. No fighting, no getting hurt, just watching you do the same movements over and over again.

Despite possibly calling you boring, he does have great respect for your craft, since he can’t do any of it. It’s too tedious and he can’t sit around for long enough doing something like this. It’s simply not exciting enough. But the moment you give him his first sweater, he will think it’s the most awesome thing to ever exist. Proud as a peacock, he will flaunt and taunt his new piece of clothing, especially to Sanford and Hank, declaring just what a great lover he has.

Present him with a plushie and his mind will be blown. He always thought knitting and crocheting are just for woolly hats and sweaters and scarves and all. If he sees you made him a tiny grunt, he will simply lose it, run around the Status Quo base and show everyone what you’re capable of. It doesn’t even matter to him whether or not it looks good. Your hands are magical to him and absolutely everyone has to know just how cool and epic you are.

[aroacewxs]

terrible terrible part of not growing up with a very very big piece of media is that once you get into it older, there is just So Much. and you're like well shit how long will this take

[piningpercussionist]

(ooc)

I want you all to know that if I had the energy for it. There are so many posts stored in my drafts I long to queue... but neglected to preemptively tag, despite knowing I am Like This....

Anyway, there is a slight chance the queue might run out tomorrow unless I can get more responses in there-- I am,, tired,,

[fairy-angel222]

𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐏✶𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

GETO SUGURU X FEM! READER

✶⋆.˚cw: smut, choking, pussy and face slapping, praise, degradation, recording, breeding, dumbfication, i love you’s

✶⋆.˚a/n: first one shot in a line set up for this whole concept ;) requested by anon.

Geto was a kinky man when he wanted to be. Loving the idea of recording each time he fucked you. Balls slapping noisily onto your wet clit as his hand curled in your hair. Lifting your face up into the camera with a degrading coo.

It was a fit of pure boredom that brought him to take it one step further. Convincing you that you two should share the videos. Make everyone see just how good he was destroying you in bed.

When you had agreed, you had never expected the millions of notifications you received within the first week. The comments on how hot you two were as a couple. How hot Geto looked fucking into you. How hot you looked getting fucked by Geto.

You even received some suggestions on videos your new “fans” wanted to see. Hundreds of thousands of people willing to watch, to get off to, anything that you two decided to post.

It was scary and amusing, but Geto was all for it. His chest swelled with pride knowing that so many men now wanted you but couldn’t have you. Knowing that he was the only one who could fuck you so damn good.

You never expected to find yourself agreeing, your lip between your teeth as you read through the comments. Some of the bold suggestions making your thighs clench at the thought of your boyfriend doing these things to you.

The account quickly rose to the top as the weeks went by. And you never got tired of the many positions Geto would flip you into, fucking into you meanly while praising you so degradingly. Showing the world how fast you turned to putty in his hold.

You attracted many different audiences. Your favorite were those girls who swooned not at him, but at you two on a whole. The way he held you, the way he checked up on you when he was done being rough. The aftercare. They thought your relationship was perfect, and would never fail to let you know.

It wasn’t long until people began demanding more of you two in a non porn setting, your other social medias blowing up with those who just couldn’t get enough of your lives. How much cuter Geto was with you out of bed. The many dates he took you on, the gifts he bought you. Everything.

It became something that your fans loved to see. Your relationship on a whole. Their little comments like ‘so cute!’ , ‘i love them so much’ , ‘you guys need to get married’ , ‘my favorite couple ever’ never failed to make your heart swell.

They respected your privacy of course. But would take anything that was put out for their consumption. Porn or otherwise.

—

“𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃’𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊”

Was what the title of your latest video read, your fans quick to click on the thumbnail the second it got posted. Many already positioning themselves on their beds. Others plugging in their headphones around coworkers or friends. They knew from a mere four seconds in that they already loved what they saw.

Your hands and knees were trembling as your back arched. Fat tears flowing down your cheeks as you begged your boyfriend to touch you. “Please Sugu— please touch me. Wanna feel your cock so bad.” You moaned, wiggling your ass towards him with a needy mewl.

“Does my greedy girl want me to fuck her dumb? Is that what you want pretty?”

“Mhm, need you.”

He was more than happy to comply, not taking long until he was fucking into you roughly from behind. Your body jerking forward each time his hips hammered against your ass.

“S-suguu. Feels so good,” You mewled, Geto’s hand snaking around your throat to pull you up against his chest, forcing you to make eye contact with the blinking red light in front of you.

His breath fanned your ear, lips ghosting over your skin as he groaned deeply. “If only you could see what they see baby. See yourself moan like a slut in heat while that pretty lil’ pussy sucks me in.”

You let out a loud hiccuped moan, Geto’s cock slamming meanly into your g spot before fucking deep inside you. The small outline of his tip barely visible to the device’s lens. “See how much of a mess you are f’me.”

He felt so good. And your head was spinning as he fucked into you with no mercy. Your shaky whimpers echoing throughout the room as Geto molded your pussy around his cock.

“Nngh— sugu ‘m so full. Love your cock s’ muchh.” Your words were slurred as his other hand reached around to rub small circles on your clit. Your sopping pussy leaking lewdly onto the sheets below as he continued to roll his hips up into you.

“Tell them who’s fucking you so good baby.” He grunted, hand on your throat landing two soft slaps onto each of your teary cheeks before settling right back into place on your neck. The light sting pulling a string of whiney moans past your drool filled lips as you pressed further into him.

“You are. You are Sugu. You’re f-fucking me so good ‘nd i love it— haah. Wan’ you to fuck me like this forever.” You babbled, words muffled by an incoherent cry as your hands gripped his muscular arm. Using him for support when your head grew fuzzy, blanking out everything but the feeling of him inside you.

Geto smirked, “That’s my girl.”

You yelped when you were shoved into the mattress. Your back arched deeply with your torso flat on the sheets. Geto’s hand on the back of your neck forcing you to stay cheek down as he switched up his pace.

The new position allowed him to hit so much deeper. Your needy cries going straight to his cock as you drooled messily. Eyes rolling back with a loud moan every time he gave you a harsh thrust forward, sensitive nipples rubbing on the bed till you were clenching down repeatedly. Loud squelches filling the air as your pussy coated his cock in its slick.

“Sugu, ‘m gonna cum.” A trembling cry. “‘M so close.” You could feel your stomach tightening, breathing getting heavier as you gripped the sheets tightly.

“Yeah? Gonna make a fucking mess for me. Show them how good i fucked you today?” He cooed, watching as you nodded dumbly before letting out a choked moan. “Mhm.”

Geto groaned, palm landing onto your clit so he could watch you jerk with a whimper. Your body quivering when he pulled back you up, arms hooking under your legs to lift you off the bed. Body being moved up and down as he used you as his personal fleshlight. Bouncing you on and off his cock till you were crying uncontrollably, his harsh kisses to your sweet spot shooting to every sensitive nerve in your pussy.

“Suguruu. I- nngh, you’re— ahh.” You didn’t know what you were trying to say, your body being manhandled however he liked for your tight pussy to stroke his length. Your toes curling as your head fell back onto his shoulder.

“Shhh baby, it’s okay. Just take it yeah? Doing so fucking well.” Your legs remained dangling over his arms as he used you to both your delights, feeling yourself ready to let go with another shrieked cry. “F-fuckk. ‘M gonna— oh god.”

“You know they love to see that pretty face when you cum baby, look up at the camera f’me.”

You did as you told, head spinning as you attempted to keep it up right. Focusing on the delicious stretch of your walls to accommodate your boyfriend’s girth.

“Go on baby. Let go. ‘M right there behind you.”

Your mouth hung open in what your fans liked to call an adorable scream as your legs shook. Glossy eyes making content with the camera as you squirted messily. The force of the clear liquid making Geto grunt when it threatened to push his cock out of you.

“There you go.. fuck— that’s my good girl. ‘M gonna fill you up so good now. Gonna stuff that tight pussy to the brim with my cum.” He husked, movements getting sloppy as his abs tensed. Lips parted in deep breaths as his eyes rolled back, something that your audience loved to see.

His cock twitching within your warmth with a string of cracked groans when he buried himself deep. Allowing himself to pump you full of the creamy liquid, painting your insides in sticky white.

He pulled out slowly, still holding you up so the camera could pick up the way your little gaped hole fluttered around nothing. His cum running down your puffy folds in thick spurts. “Look at that baby, sopping pussy’s making a big mess.”

Geto set you down with a smile before kissing you sweetly, taking you into his arms and rocking you back and forth in a hug while placing tiny pecks all over your face. “You did so fucking amazing. That was hot.” Leaning into your ear so that his next words wouldn’t be picked up. “If they don’t jerk off to this i promise you i will.”

You could only hum with flushed cheeks , falling into his chest with a small giggle. “I can’t feel my legs.”

Your boyfriend chuckled, “Ya hear that? She can’t feel her legs.” He grinned at the camera making you both laugh, his attention turning back to you with another passionate kiss. “Don’t worry, i’m gonna get you all mice and cleaned up okay? Gonna take real good care of you.”

“M’kay, love you Sugu.”

“I love you more sweetheart.”

—

It was no surprise the amount of love you got for the video. It was hard to believe that your account could grow anymore than it already had. The comments seemed to be hooked on how Geto could go from fucking you relentlessly to being the sweetest boyfriend telling you that he loves you.

That amongst thousands of men making it known that they came to the sight of you squirting, that one made Geto a little angry. And the thousands of women begging your boyfriend to be next, like that would ever happen.

You refrained the urge to respond to all the demands for more with the fact that you had loads of others coming up. Some with your boyfriend alone and others with.. guests. But they would have to have the patience to see for themselves.

[loveluvrs]

the slip up l lando norris x reader

request/summary – lando and reader are in a secret established relationship, until lando accidentally slips up on stream

author's notes – first piece of writing, feedback appreciated!!! this is just my thoughts written down honestly, i didn’t have much idea where i was going with it so enjoy.

Max was streaming with Lando at his place. Lando drags his feet over to the stream room, sitting on a chair next to Max. He was scrolling on his phone, trying to pass the time. 

“Mate, I’m gonna leave, you’re being so boring,” Lando joked under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“I’ll make things more interesting then. Chat, wanna know something really interesting about Lando?” Max asked with a mischievous smile as he looked back at Lando. Lando watched with suspicion of what max could say next. 

“Lando’s got a secret girlfriend,” Max sings to annoy Lando. Lando’s eyes shot up, his heart pounding as he turned off his phone, the same phone he was using to text you, his girlfriend. “I don’t, chat, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to piss me off,” Lando says as he shoots Max a glare. 

—————

A few months later, everyone has chalked up that interaction to Max simply trying to annoy and rile up Lando, and no one thought much of it. On a miracle of a night in spring, Lando was in Monaco and decided to stream. He had a hoodie on, his hair all messy, but a smile on his face. About an hour into the stream, I knock on the door of his stream room quietly. Lando immediately turned off his video and mic, telling chat to give him a minute. 

I walk in, a black slip dress on with a cropped white cardigan, my hair and makeup done all fancy. “Hi, baby,” Lando says as he pulls me in by the waist, onto his lap. “Girls night tonight, right?” He says with a soft smile. He always makes sure to pay attention to anything I’ve mentioned to him, including my plans to hang out with Lily and Carmen tonight, Alex and George’s girlfriends. 

I hum in response. “Yeah, we’re gonna get dinner and then take some Instagram photos,” I say as I stand up from his lap, “you like the dress? It’s new.” I give him a little twirl to show off the dress. 

Lando smiles brightly. “I love it, baby, you look gorgeous. Like always,” he says as he leans in for a kiss. “Text me when you’re done and need me to pick you up, yeah?” I nod and smile. 

Once I leave, Lando puts his headset back on, turning his mic and camera back on. He scrunches up his face as he’s met by shouting from Max into his headset. “What’s your problem, man?” Lando asks with confusion. Max sighs. “Lando, you had your mic on the whole time. People heard that whole conversation and I was trying to tell you but as always, you ignored me,” Max says with some frustration in his voice, but mostly amusement. 

“Oh,” Lando says as he realizes what has happened. Not knowing what to do, Lando panics and ends stream. 

When my friends and I reach the restaurant, we find it pouring rain, which was the most of our worries since the restaurant was outdoor. With frowns, we all pile back into the car and drive ourselves home. I arrive home only twenty minutes after I left, my dress soaked. My brows furrow in confusion to see Lando on the couch on his phone when i come back, and not on stream. 

I slip off my shoes. “I thought you were streaming?” I ask softly as I make my way over to him. “What happened to you? You’re all soaked! Here, let me get you a towel and you can get dressed into some of my hoodie and sweats to get comfy,” Lando says, trying to avoid the fact that he had just live streamed his whole conversation with his girlfriend. 

I saw the panic in Lando’s eyes. “Stop,” I say as I stood in front of him, “what did you do?” Lando shoots me a bright grin. “I love you, babe. So so much. And you know I’d do anything for you.” This made me even more suspicious. “Lan,” I say as my eyes narrowed.

“Okay, okay. I might have forgotten to mute my mic when we were talking right before you left. I swear I thought I had turned it off!” He says as he panics before beginning to ramble. “And I called you baby, and gorgeous, and your voice was heard too. And Max was telling me the whole time through my headset, but it was off and even if it were on, you know I don’t think about anything else when I’m with you. And there were thousands of people on the stream and you specifically told me you wanted to keep it private because you didn’t want to get hate crimed by the fans and you wouldn’t be able to handle it and I mean, I wanted to but it just slipped and im so so sorry but-“ He stops in confusion when a giggle escapes my lips. “Why aren’t you upset?” He asks slowly.

I smile as I slip my arms around his neck, his hands instinctively wrapping around my waist. “Well. Number one, you’re cute when you panic. Number two, no one saw me, so it’s okay. I mean, considering how in love you are with me, they were bound to find out at some point that you had a girlfriend,” I tease with a smile tugging at my lips. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully at me. “Okay, yeah. I am absolutely in love with you. Still, you’re not bothered by this?” he asks slowly, hesitation lacing his voice.

“I promise I’m not. It was a mistake. Plus, that just means it’s gonna be all the more fun trying to watch them figure out who it is you’re dating,” I say playfully with a giggle. 

“That’s true,” Lando says softly with a hum, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Although, don’t make me have to have you on adult supervision every time you stream now to make sure nothing else slips out of your mouth,” I tease as I playfully poke his side. 

“Ah! Okay okay, promise,” he says with a giggle as he leans in for a gentle and loving kiss.

[gutsby]

Homemade

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.

Warnings: 18+. Sneaky sex tape fun with dbf!Joel ;-) Unprotected p-in-v. Age gap. Daddy kink. Facefucking. Joel being the world’s worst cameraman. Shower sex. Overstimulation via adjustable shower head. Dirty talk. Screaming ‘daddy’ too loud, and your father shows up.

Translations: In Chile, pico is slang for penis. Joel’s is big.

Part of the Waiting Game series

“If this ever ends up on PornHub, I’ll kill you, Miller.”

Joel knew you meant it, too.

The only reason you’d agreed to make this dumb little ‘home video’ at all was because you were headed back to college tomorrow and wouldn’t see him again until May. Doing long distance was tough, but doing long distance while simultaneously trying to keep a risqué, torrid, and totally-not-age-appropriate love affair with your father’s best friend under wraps was infinitely more difficult. This was the safest way to keep desire alive in the meantime.

Immortalized on a Sony CCD-TR70—because neither one of you trusted iCloud to keep a sex tape secret.

It had also been the only video camera you could find in the closet before your dad had plopped down on the couch just outside your room and announced he would be watching Oppenheimer for the third time. You’d had to scurry off fast before he could invite you to join him.

“I’ll be damned—this thing’s gotta be as old as I am,” Joel mused as he stood at the foot of the bed, camcorder pointed at your semi-nude form.

“I didn’t know they had cameras back in the Stone Age.”

Your smirk didn't flinch, even when Joel flipped you off.

You were lying on your side, head propped up on one hand while the other picked at a few loose strings from the comforter. The lacy, pastel pink bustier holding your tits in place was currently making breathing feel like a chore, and your skin was on fire from the warmth of the room, but you tried not to show it. Joel twisted a dial.

“Alright, now...flash ‘em for daddy,” he grinned as soon as the lens focused in where he wanted: your cleavage.

You rolled your eyes.

“A little closer, please,” you said, patting the space in front of you.

Joel didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still cradling the camera, he clambered over the bed so fast he nearly tripped and took a nosedive in the headboard. You had to cover your mouth to contain a shriek of laughter—and terror—as his frame barreled into yours.

“JOEL!”

Fortunately, your cameraman was quick to recollect himself, planting a knee on either side of your chest once he’d knocked you onto your back. Then, from above, he angled the grey-black hunk of metal just a foot away:

“Anything you’d like to say to the folks watching at home, ma’am?” Joel inquired, suddenly assuming all the poise and matter-of-fact elocution of a news reporter.

You stuck your tongue out at the camera and blew the wettest, fattest raspberry you could muster in response.

Joel hummed, zoomed in on your lips, and nodded.

“Fascinating,” he said, pretending to make sense of the fart noise you’d just made with your mouth, “Have you ever given thought to maybe...sucking cock on camera?”

The swiftness with which he was able to dodge your kick was remarkable. He swayed the camera just out of reach before you could shove it away and say, ‘Joel, quit being GROSS’ and he promptly replied, ‘Ain’t that the whole point of a sex tape, sweet pea? Bein’ a little bit gross?’ And you playfully tried to kick him again, only this time, he caught your foot and yanked you closer to him. He turned the camcorder back to your face and grinned.

“That’s my little pornstar,” he murmured with affection. Then, zooming in again, this time to find your panty line, “Riiiiight there.”

You knew giving Joel Miller recording privileges for an occasion as momentous as this was a bad idea. At the rate you were going now, you’d be seeing the sunrise through the window before you ever got a glimpse of his dick. You needed to take matters into your own hands.

Literally.

You crawled on all fours to get to Joel across the bed.

The man, kneeling with the camera pointed in your direction, looked up to cock a brow at you.

“Sweetheart, hey, can ya do that one more—”

“Hush,” you muttered, closing in on his crotch. 

Your head was lowered so you could undo the front of his jeans. Because of this, your back was arched, and your ass was pointed up just the slightest bit. For a second, Joel seemed torn between tilting the lens to your lower half or your face, which was inching ever closer to the bulge in his trousers. In time, he landed on the latter.

He swallowed. That sight never got old—and seeing it displayed on the camcorder’s semi-grainy screen only made it that much hotter. Joel shifted on his knees while you worked him out of his boxers, watching the nimble movements of your fingers as you wrestled the fabric.

“Wanna—” Glancing to the side of the bed, “—maybe—”

“Yup.”

Both of you liked it better on the floor: you on your knees in front of Joel, chin tilted up to see his reactions as you sucked him off. You loved to sink between his legs and then see and feel nothing but him, brain going blank the moment his cock filled your mouth. Joel slid a pillow under your knees before widening his stance some.

“Is it on?” Your hand was wrapped firmly around the base of his cock and your lips were hovering an inch from the tip. You resisted the urge to lick the precum off just yet.

“Darlin’, it’s been on ever since you stepped outta the bathroom in that— that—” Joel seemed to be searching for a word when the head of his cock was enveloped in a kiss. You dragged your tongue across the slit of him and collected the hot, salty beads with a muffled moan.

Then you pulled off.

“Teddy,” you said, reminding him of the name for that pretty little tulle and lace getup you currently had on.

“Teddy,” Joel echoed, his mind a million miles away from any lingerie jargon at the moment. He held the camera tighter as you took him back into your mouth and sank deeper on his cock. He struggled to keep it steady.

It was strange, watching Joel and the rounded glass of the lens as you did this dirty thing that was only meant to be shared between you and him. Knowing it would be recorded, saved for future viewing, displayed on some dimly lit screen in Joel’s bedroom maybe one, twice, or more likely than not, several dozen times over the next three months. You wondered how you might look from this new point of view; though, you weren’t so sure you needed to know what sight Joel was made privy to while you sucked and hollowed your cheeks around his cock.

As it turned out, that uncertainty wasn’t meant to last you very long, because Joel flipped the camera’s screen around two seconds later. Some sepia-tinted, pixelated rendition of your face, framed by the date and time and a bright red flashing dot beside the word ‘REC’ were the first to greet you. You flinched back just a little.

“Joel,” you said, almost bashful, “Flip it back.”

Joel just grinned. Then he laced his fingers through your hair and tugged you closer to him, thumb stroking over your scalp, “C’mon, darlin’, don’t ya wanna see how goddamn pretty ya look on your knees for me?”

You didn’t think you looked pretty at all. In fact, you reckoned your features looked something more like an alien utility funnel than a real, human face as you tilted your chin inward and seemed to be nothing but eyes and a hollowed-out expression, but you let Joel guide you back onto him all the same. You heard a low rumble of pleasure take shape in his chest as your lips slid over his shaft. Your gaze remained glued to the screen as you did.

Wet with saliva and a few faint traces of precum, you continued to bob your head up and down. Joel’s groans grew louder, and your drive to take him further and further surged as well. By the time his hand was tightening into a white-knuckled fist in your hair, you’d nearly taken him all the way to the back of your throat, and your nose was no more than an inch from the soft tufts of hair on his belly. Joel let out a shuttering breath.

“Fuck me,” he heaved. You might’ve smiled if your lips weren’t otherwise occupied. Then he clenched his hand even harder and murmured, “Can you— can I, please—”

Again, you didn’t need him to finish the rest of the question to know what he wanted. You moved your head back just slightly to nod, a low, ‘Mhmm’ reverberating down the length of his dick as you gave him permission. Joel swallowed and set the camera aside immediately.

He placed it on the nightstand, perfectly level with your head, to the side. Then he rotated the device just a bit, took one glance at the screen, and shortly returned to where you were watching him with wide, glossy eyes.

“Ready?” he asked. His right hand now joined the left at the back of your head, but not before thumbing a quick touch over your cheek to get a feel for your approval.

You hummed once more. You watched Joel’s hips move forward, hands secure around your scalp all the while, and you felt a gentle nudge at the back of your throat. Then another. You couldn’t help the impulse to gag, but thankfully, it was short-lived. Joel peered down at you, eyes searching yours for any plea to stop or slow down, but he found nothing. He sheathed himself deeper until your lips were brushing the base of his dick. He groaned.

“That’s a good…fuckin’ girl,” he managed, voice strained, “Takin’ my cock so deep.”

He shifted his hips to move an inch or two out, then slid his cock forward again, bumping that spot at the top of your throat. This time, you were better adjusted to take him and felt your muscles expand and contract around him without activating your gag reflex. Your eyes stayed trained on his face while he dragged his cock back again.

“My pretty girl and her—” Joel stabbed back into you, somehow tender in the way he did it, “—pretty fuckin’ mouth…Sweet thing likes gettin’ facefucked, does she?”

With the increased pace of his thrusts and the grip he had on the sides of your head, you couldn’t quite answer, but Joel could tell from the glint in your eye that you loved when he manhandled and fucked your throat like this. Watched the light sear gently behind those irises as you swallowed every inch of his cock, back and forth, and let your brain break down to little more than a happy, mindless mush. Joel was always keen to oblige you on that front—aroused to no end at the sight of all your thoughts being fucked straight out of your head—and within the next few thrusts, his gut was giving a familiar clench. He pulled halfway out of your mouth, paused, felt the pinch again, then withdrew from your lips fully.

“Get on the bed.”

You straightened back up and made it over to the mattress, quickly. Before you could assume the position you’d been hoping to take on all fours, you felt yourself flipped on your back. Joel yanked your hips to the edge of the bed and kneeled down between your legs. Hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and had them shuffled down your thighs and past your ankles in no time at all. Then, when he lowered his lips to your wet, aching core, you pressed a touch to the crown of his head.

“Joel, wait,” you said. All of a sudden your chest felt tight.

In spite of the fact that your airways were open and completely free from any obstruction—namely, Joel’s big ol’ pico—you still found it difficult to inhale. Some murky, amorphous sense of anxiety weighed over your chest.

When your hand didn’t move from his head and instead pushed him further, Joel furrowed his brows, perplexed.

“What’s’a matter, darlin’?”

You shook your head, more to yourself than to him.

“I haven’t…just— haven’t washed down there today…o-or shaved,” you stammered, “Don’t want you to taste it.”

That was largely a lie. You’d bathed, shaved, and prepared for this just fine, but really were more concerned about the novel optics that loomed overhead. Being filmed in such a singularly vulnerable state without knowing how to act. You were fine when the attention was focused on Joel and his pleasure, but something about having your every whimper and moan laid bare before you on film felt daunting. Unnerving, in a way.

Joel frowned while rubbing your thigh. His brow pinched inward again, as if he were considering something.

Then he moved across your body, and your muscles eased with relief at the thought that he’d just let it go and get to fucking you exactly how you wanted. You reached for him, ready to wrap your legs around his waist, when a yelp clawed out of your throat. You found that you didn’t get to touch his chest, or his cheeks, or his big, broad, beefy shoulders, as you were promptly thrown over the latter of the three body parts and lifted when Joel stood up from the bed. He started carrying you across the room, heedless of the startled, ‘What the FUCK, Miller?’ you’d cried the second he took one step.

Hardwood floors transformed to tile before your eyes, and shortly, you realized you were being brought into your bathroom.

You heard the squeak of some metal knob being turned, then a brief sputter, then a spray of water raining down on your shower floor. You were still being held hostage over Joel’s shoulder, try as you might to bite at his lower back or smack his ass in an attempt to break loose.

He set you down a second later, seemingly unfazed.

“Get in.” He nodded toward the shower.

Before you had a chance to respond, he left. You stood back in disbelief—refusing to go into the shower and let Joel have his win—but just as you opened your mouth to call out and tell him as much, his form slipped back in through the door. Naked, now, and wielding that stupid, goddamned camcorder with a devious glint in his eye.

“Will you—” You held out a defensive hand in front of you, cheeks already heating, “—stop with that?!”

Secretly, the corners of your lips were fighting a smile as Joel drew closer with the camera held up to your face.

“There she is, folks,” he announced, as though speaking to a crowd, or else reading off of a script from the world’s most cheesy porno, “My dirty, dirty girl says she needs a shower—don’t ya, sweet pea?”

It sounded so ridiculous and dumb that neither one of you could keep from laughing. Even as you lifted your middle finger in response, Joel grinned and smacked your ass. Steadied the camera out in front, nudged you closer to the shower, and watched you somewhat begrudgingly obey his orders. Once you’d stripped what little remained on your body, you stepped into the tub.

Add to ‘ridiculous and dumb’ just wildly unsexy as well—who the hell needed a soapy interlude to a sex tape?

Joel Miller, apparently. He constricted his grip on the camera and followed you in, tongue already skimming the backs of his teeth in anticipation. You turned away to step under the shower’s stream, and he wasted no time getting a shot of your derrière. You leaned forward and sighed.

The water worked wonders to get your muscles to loosen some, but still, you were nervous. You could clean up now, stall a little longer, maybe even offer to give Joel head again—but what if he really wanted to eat you out on camera? You couldn’t put off the conversation forever.

Or another minute, it seemed.

You let out a shriek when you felt Joel’s fingers sneak up between your thighs. You hardly knew what he was doing, just folding limply when he spun you around to press your back against the shower wall. Your eyes widened to see him descending your body once more.

“I lied,” Joel said, smirk painted clear across his features, “You’re not dirty—I just wanted to eat your pussy in the shower ‘s’all.”

Chivalry was evidently alive and well in Austin, Texas.

No truer words could have been spoken, and yet, you felt wildly uncomfortable the second Joel’s head dipped between your legs and that big, dumb, handsome face started licking stripes up your sensitive core. You cast a glance to the side and saw the camcorder perched on the sink—just through the open slit in the shower curtain, you could see it pointed directly at you.

You shivered and started to push Joel away.

“Can we maybe just—”

“Sweetie?!”

Joel’s lips tore out of your cunt quicker than a sneeze through a screen door. His eyes were wide.

“Y-Yeah, dad?” you squeaked, tone almost fearful.

“Everything okay in here? I heard ya scream,” your dad returned shortly.

You could only imagine the expression of confusion and distress painting his every lineament in that moment. Probably just barely sticking his head through the crack in the door and blinking anxiously through the steam.

Your dad was caring like that.

He just never knew the right times to show up.

No, there were very few times where you would’ve liked to see him less—apart from that one time you’d sucked Joel’s dick under the table at your dad’s birthday dinner. Your heart was thudding a wild, erratic beat in your chest, and you could only imagine how Joel was feeling. Probably seeing visions of a Size 11 boot being shoved up his ass if his friend happened to slide the shower curtain to the side and see him nose-deep in his daughter’s box.

That would be bad. So very, very bad and probably ten times worse than when Tommy had caught you blowing his brother at the aforementioned birthday party. You just couldn’t seem to catch a break these days.

You sucked in a breath and answered anyway.

“I thought I saw a spider.”

“Really?” You could already sense the embittered tinge to your dad’s voice, harking back to the war he’d once declared on all wolf spiders in the home, “Want me to kill it?”

The next thing you heard was two boots thud on the bathroom floor outside the shower, and you could’ve sworn you saw Joel’s whole soul leap from his body. He shot a frantic look around him, spotted a window above, and seemed to wonder for half a second if he might be able to shimmy his 188-pound frame through a space that probably wasn’t big enough to fit a fat raccoon. He slumped his weight against the shower wall and winced.

“No! I— It wasn’t even a spider. Just a…roach.”

Shortly, Joel’s eyes widened even more and met yours, as if to ask, ‘Why the FUCK would you say that?’

“A roach?!” your dad cried simultaneously.

Apparently, you’d forgotten that any derivative of the word ‘cockroach’ was like a sleeper agent activation phrase for middle-aged fathers who wanted to keep their homes free of all household pests. The look on Joel’s haggard, world-weary face communicated as much to you, and for a second, you remembered that he, too, was built the same way as any other semi-old dude you knew.

Just bigger and beefier and…harder below the belt than you would’ve expected most men around his age to be.

You quickly chided yourself for ogling Joel’s dick at a time like this and replied to your father, shrill, “No!”

Then, slightly more composed, “No, no— I already took it out with some hairspray and told it to fuck off to hell.”

An attempt at humor was the last leg you had to stand on. Fortunately, it worked.

Outside the shower, your dad chuckled, and his footsteps started to shuffle off toward the door.

“Ah. Atta girl,” he beamed, ever the advocate for brutal cockroach killings, “If you see another, just holler, okay?”

“Okay.”

You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, and you almost fell to the floor. Joel probably would’ve been facedown just as well—fear seeping out of his body along with every last ounce of willpower to stand—had he not made a dive for you as soon as your dad had left.

The force of his push sent you straight into the wall, legs forced to wrap around his waist as he buried his face in your neck.

“Thank fuck,” he breathed.

“You’re welcome,” you murmured, swiping the water out of your eyes with a grimace.

Then, just as you were about to request that Joel lower you back down to the floor and out of the shower’s spray, you felt a nudge between your legs. Luckily not a tongue this time—just Joel, or the tip of his leaking cock. The man below you grinned, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a wash of relief. Could it be?

“I’ll still eat you out if y’want,” he started, though speaking with a little less conviction this time around, “But after all that I, uh—kinda jus’ wanna fuck ya stupid.”

Well thank fuck for fake spiders and cockroaches, too; you’d just averted a dreaded tonguefuck, thanks to that detour.

You’d worry about your pornstar moans and on-camera charisma another time—now you could just sit back and let Joel do all the work while he took you against the wall.

Really, there was no need to concern yourself with anything at all from that point forward. Once you’d given Joel the green light, he was sinking you onto his cock with a grunt and making sure you felt nothing but him. His hands found your hips and held you firmly in place as he rutted into you from below, your own fingers latching onto his shoulders for some much-needed support. Both of you knew that you needed to be extra quiet now—seeing how sound seemed to carry in that tight, tiled space—so Joel snagged your lips in his for a kiss.

He was practically panting in your mouth by the time you started meeting his thrusts. His fingertips slid some and must’ve seared ten perfect crescents into the flesh of your ass as he fucked you into the wall.

“Look so pretty like this,” he whispered in between kisses and short, shallow breaths. His cock parted your insides with an excruciating welt of pleasure, and he hardly even seemed to realize it, “Look so damn pretty takin’ cock.”

Then, lips kicking up in a smile when it seemed he’d remembered something, he added, “Can’t wait to play this tape back home and watch us fuck all over again.”

Again. Again. And again. Shit, you could just see it now.

Your eyes traversed the compact shower space once more to find the video camera—still perched, still live, still perfectly implacable and silent atop the sink as it recorded your every grunt, groan, and shuddering moan. You were nearly as curious to know what Joel’s bare ass looked like rutting into you like this as you were to hear yourself getting railed against the shower wall. Maybe you’d beat this fear of secondhand embarrassment after all.

Maybe.

Joel’s teeth snagged your bottom lip and bit it, lightly.

“Every chance I get, you can bet I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout this…sweet pussy while you’re away,” he said, voice low and occasionally punctured by a groan, “Say one more thing f’me and I’ll…cum every time I watch this part.”

The kinks at the corners of his lips were endearing. You would’ve liked to supply them with just about anything they could’ve wanted, so when they leaned into your ear and murmured just what it was they needed to hear, you only hesitated a second.

Or maybe two or three, because, well…it was risky.

Moaning ‘daddy’ out loud at a time like this? It might get Joel off quick, but it might send your real dad running even faster. You weren’t crazy about the thought of anything that might draw the man’s attention again.

Joel seemed a little less risk-averse than you, notwithstanding the window-leaping fear he’d felt when your dad had rushed in before. Leave it to a criminally horny man to have the memory of a goldfish, though.

At present, Joel was blinking and gawking a bit like one, too, waiting for you to enunciate that one magic word.

You couldn’t deny he made a damn cute desperate sex fiend when he wanted to be. And you needed to cum.

You figured you could cut a deal with him just this once.

“Alright,” you mumbled against the top of his stubbled lip, “Make me cum and I’ll say anything you want, Miller.”

You weren’t sure if it was a chuckle or a strangled moan that jumped up in his throat when Joel squeezed your sides tighter. All you knew was that he was lowering you to the floor in the next instant, spinning you around, and walking you forward, swiftly and with purpose, toward the opposite end of the shower. Right where the crack in the curtain made you most visible to the camcorder.

Joel’s hand snaked around your front and gently eased between your legs. Then, pressing his chest to your back and nudging you to bend just slightly at the waist, he tipped your bodies closer to the camera’s line of vision and stilled. From the LED screen, you could see the ghost of a smile crossing his lips as he shifted his head beside your own. Next, they were kissing across your shoulder, your neck, that sensitive spot behind your ear, and finally the shell of it, brown eyes trained on the camera lens as he murmured to you, “Stay real still.”

You didn’t know if you could. But you tried. And you damn near cried when his fingers started working circles over your clit. Your body was raised on tip-toes, and your hand was bracing the wall as Joel fucked you from behind and made a mess of your wet, writhing body. In no more than three or four strokes, your fears of looking or sounding stupid on camera trickled away with all the rest of the silent, sizzling liquids circling the drain below. Your cheek pressed against Joel’s rougher one, and with the push of each new thrust, you came more unraveled.

When Joel’s hand closed over the front of your throat, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t move—couldn’t move, as the man was holding you still in such a taut, rigid grip.

“What do we say when we get fucked this nice, baby?” Joel whispered in your ear, words almost entirely masked by the sounds from the shower. You still heard it, though.

“T-Thank you,” you stuttered, cockdrunk and faint.

“Thank you, what?”

Your eyes were fluttering closed, but you could feel the smug expression just over your shoulder. You clenched around him and felt him snap his hips ahead even harder.

“Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered.

“Say it again.”

“Thank you, daddy!” you whined, still scared to be too loud.

Joel wasn’t scared. His hand ascended the column of your neck to pinch your chin between his fingers, jerking your head to the right.

To the crack in the curtain. To the camera.

You could’ve cried with how fast he was fucking you now. You opened your eyes and cast a pathetic look to the recorder. Joel made sure you maintained that gaze, too.

“Who’s makin’ ya feel this good?” he seethed, shaking your whole frame with the breakneck pace of his hips.

“You, daddy.”

“Who’s fuckin’ this sweet cunt like no one ever has?”

“You, daddy.”

Joel seemed sated and somehow not fully satisfied at all. Like he was pleased to see you falling apart for him like this, but needed to hear more. Feel more.

He withdrew from you, and you nearly collapsed with the absence of his arms holding you straight.

You pressed a shaky palm to the wall and almost moaned for him to get his ass back over here, you weren’t done, when Joel returned in a second. To your relief, his muscly arms found their way around your front once more, and his clock plunged back inside you, too—only this time, you sensed you were missing something else.

Water.

It wasn’t on your back anymore.

It was fanning between your legs.

Blasting the full force of its stream toward your most sensitive parts as Joel held the shower head up between your thighs. You would’ve jumped back and screamed were it not for his hand clamping tight over your mouth before you could, his lips grazing over your ear again.

“Try it one more time.”

You released a hoarse, muffled squeal into his palm when he lifted the stainless steel to your clit and started rolling his hips. The strokes themselves were relatively gentle, but paired with the ruthless spate of the water, your eyes were nearly rolling to the back of your head at the pulse.

You couldn’t breathe, much less speak. Joel hummed almost apologetically into your hair but didn’t seem sorry at all as he lowered his hand back down to your throat and squeezed. He continued rocking his hips into yours.

“You’ve said it dozens of times before—what’s’a matter?”

Joel Miller knew what the fuck was the matter. He just liked to see you desperate, fucked-out, and teetering on the brink of going feral before he let you reach your peak.

“D-D-D—”

Damn, you sounded stupid.

“D-D-Do you wanna cum? Is that it?” Joel said, mocking your struggle to articulate words as he fucked you.

In spite of your normal no-bullshit attitude toward him, you weren’t in quite the right frame of mind to be talking back to him. You just nodded and moaned, movements constricted by the grip of his fingers on your neck.

“Use those big girl words for me, honey. I know ya can.”

Again, you parted your lips and started to speak, but the oscillation of the water, the brush of his cock, the patently deprecating lilt in Joel’s string of praises, made it nearly impossible. You ended up sputtering again,

“D-D-ah-fuuuckfuckfuck.”

“That ain’t the word I’m looking for.”

But, just as you ventured to say it once more, he cut in,

“Here. Lemme help ya find it.”

Before you could blink, Joel was pistoning his hips against your ass like he had before, only this time, he held the shower head stationary between your legs as you seized and nearly fell to the floor with the force of all the pleasure coursing through you. Your body seemed to act of its own accord, head dropping to Joel’s shoulder and stomach giving an alarmingly fitful pinch as an orgasm tore through you. You couldn’t control how it came or where it went—or how your tongue jumped up and cried,

“Daddy!”

Joel nodded, fucking you through each violent spasm with all the composure and aplomb of a seasoned pro. While your eyes cycled back in the throes of delirium, he held firm and didn’t slow his hips—or the shower head.

You probably could’ve torn a hole through a cinder block if you’d happened to have one between your teeth just then. That was how fervid and merciless the aftershocks of your climax were pulsing through you, exacerbated to the nth degree by the continuity of Joel’s movements. You managed to grab the forearm that was holding the metal nozzle and plead a wild, slightly stifled, “JOEL!”

In truth, you didn’t really want him to stop. It felt too good. You could tell that Joel sensed this, too, because in the instant after that, his lips were sponging kisses to your shoulder, cock working steadily between your walls.

“One more, sweet pea.”

“Joel—”

“And say it louder this time.”

Were you in your right mind, you probably would’ve chided him for being so reckless and stupid about it all. How the fuck could he expect you to scream out loud when your dad was lounging right outside of your room? Did he really think the drone of Cillian Murphy’s smooth, American-ized tone would mask your unbridled moans? Honestly, you couldn’t be sure—and more importantly, you couldn’t be stopped to consider for much longer. With one last trembling vibration from the shower head and a thrust from Joel, you were cumming all over again.

Squeezing his arm, sinking into his sturdy frame, clenching over his cock in what felt like a hundred convulsions, and casting caution aside, you screamed:

“DADDY!”

You might’ve blacked out for a second or two.

Even a minute, as it was, because the next intelligible thing that reached your ears was the thunder of footfalls. And the thrum of Joel’s own hammering heart as he yanked you into his chest and stilled frozen inside you.

The door swung open on its hinges so hard it hit the wall.

“What is it, sweetie?!” your dad yelped.

“I—”

“Are you hurt?”

Just fucked raw by your best friend and shaking, Pops.

You sucked in a breath when Joel nudged your head with his nose and slowly pulled the shower curtain closed to move you out of view of the camera. But it was still there.

Your dad was still there.

The shower walls seemed to be closing in on you, but somehow, you managed, “No, dad, I’m fine! Just…coulda sworn I saw another spider in here, but it was nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

Your dad sounded unconvinced, pacing closer. You could’ve screamed, but Joel was likely holding you too tight to make any such sounds possible in that moment. The two of you recoiled, still stuck chest-to-back, away from the edge of the plastic shower liner when a boot thudded just outside the crack between curtain and wall.

You swallowed. Joel squeezed. Neither of you breathed.

“If it’s another roach, I gotta call the extermin—”

“No! No, it wasn’t a roach. I’m just seein’ things, I think.”

That didn’t seem to make your father feel any better, because he didn’t retreat like he had before. A tense moment fell over the compact, fog-infested room, like the man was chewing away at some thought in his head.

Then he sighed.

“Alright.”

Blissful footsteps away from the shower. You smiled.

Unfortunately, the grin was destined to be short-lived, because in the next instant, you heard boots screech to a halt on the tile. Pivoted, then paused where they stood.

Another gut-wrenching dozen seconds passed, and for one short, chilling moment, you could’ve sworn you felt your father’s gaze sear through the curtain and see you.

But he didn’t see you. Or Joel. Or anyone.

Instead, his gaze was fixed someplace else.

Suddenly, his voice rose above all the awful noises of clamor and panic in your brain, and broke out, loudly,

“What’s my camera doin’ in here?”

[yuuuhiii]

wanna go for a ride ?

minors this is not for you!

includes : riding Yuuta’s washboard abs :P, 1.2k words, little overstimulation, making out and just smut in general;D , Yuuta’s a little tease mwhahaha and kinda sub reader

Yuuta was more of a giver than reciever. He adored giving you gifts and affection.

But his favorite thing in the world was pleasuring you.

He just loved your fucked out look when he’d be blowing your back out or even better, eating you out. The way your eyes would cross or roll back was always a sight for sore eyes.

Your orgasms and the noises he pulled from you were all he needed to pleasure himself. Giving that Yuuta was like this, he always fed into your fantasies.

You wanted to try something new in the bedroom? He was all for it. If it meant you’d be happy and well taken care of he’d do anything for you.

Even though Yuuta has never judged you for your new ways to spice things up in the bedroom it was still embarrassing to mention things to him.

Like the time you mentioned to sit on his face was definitely a night to remember. Not just because of how fucked out he left you but the whole conversation before hand.

Your boyfriend was just so sweet you almost feel like you’re tainting his bashful and pure personality with your lewd desires.

However he was just as filthy as you.

You sat in your living room in boredom as you waited for him to get home. He had gone to train with Inumaki and Panda, letting you know that he was on his way back.

Although throughout his time there you playfully asked for a picture of him. You were sent a picture of your boyfriend with no shirt on, chasing around panda who had stolen said shirt, as Inumaki took a selfie.

He texted, ‘your boyfriend is a little busy.’ You would be laughing it off but when you zoom in you softly gasp at the sight of Yuuta.

He’s drenched in sweat, his toned body on full display. Maybe it’s the lighting or the sweat but his abs looked so rough, so sturdy.

Absentmindedly your thighs clench, chewing on your lip at the sight. Your thoughts were blowing through a mile a minute.

It’s not like you never saw his bare body before, your hands would always find his abs when he was on top of you or you were sucking him off. And they were hard, whenever they clenched beneath your fingertips.

You squirm in your panties, already feeling yourself growing wet at the all these thoughts. You let out a shuddering breath and your boyfriend walks in through the door, causing you to quickly exit out of the picture. God only knows how long you’ve been staring at it.

“Hi baby!” He quips walking over to you and planting a kiss on your temple.

“I’m gonna shower, then we can watch our tv show ok?”

You nod, blinking at the tv in front of you. Yuuta comes out of the shower soon enough and you haven’t been paying attention to the show in front of you at all. You were definitely going to have to watch back.

“Babe?” You snap out of it, gazing up at your boyfriend as his face laces with concern. His big hand drapes over your thigh, rubbing it comfortingly.

“Are you okay?” He tilts his head and you gulp.

You avert your eyes, already growing embarrassed. Yuuta always found your flushed state cute. The way your cheeks turned pink and your cheeks puffed out just a little. He grabs your chin, tilting it up to face him.

“What’s wrong hm?” His big blue eyes blinking at you. You wanted to voice your new idea, but you felt bad that he had already took a shower, not wanting to dirty your boyfriend.

“Nothing s’fine Yuu.” You smile, turning back to the tv.

He narrows his eyes, his lips teasingly moving to your neck, placing a playful chomp on your skin. You squeal your hands shooting up to his shoulders.

“Dont lie to me.” He says almost as a warning and he can feel your whole body exceeding with heat.

“Um I was just thinking about something.” You mumble and his elbows move to rest on the sides of your hips, his lips placing kisses down your stomach. You squirm and he smirks, peeking his head from under your shirt to look back at you.

“What were you thinking about?” He says a little too innocently, you whine, staring at the ceiling.

“Come on tell me please?” You cave at his words, with a shaky sigh you tell him.

“I-I wanna ride your abs.” You cover your face and he perks up.

“L-Like you know when you made me grind on your thigh? I wanna do that with your abs.” You ramble out and fuck.

He’s already growing hard at the thought of you on top of him.

“We can do that.” He smiles, standing up and reaching for your hand. You shyly take it as he leads you to the bedroom.

He walks backwards as his legs hit the edge of the bed, sitting down. He pulls you on top of him but not without connecting your lips first.

They moved together so perfectly, he knew you were made just for him. His hands glide down your body, his hand rubbing you through your already soaked panties.

You moan, your hands digging into his shoulders.

“Yuu.” You whine and he smirks against your neck. Sucking and biting, claiming you as his.

“You’re so wet honey. Have you been thinking about this the whole time?” You nod dumbly, already grinding down against his hand.

“My poor baby, look at you hump my hand. Thought you wanted to get off on my abs?” He teases and you whine.

“I do!”

Your hands move to rip off his t-shirt, and moves to pull your panties down. He’s laid against the bed now, big hands sliding along your waist, guiding you up and over his abdomen.

Your eyes are lidded with lust, your chest heaving. Your hands shoot out on his chest, gliding your folds right against his toned stomach.

You gasp, juices coating his whole stomach. Yuuta watches you closely, you’re already shaking, small whines and moans leaving you as you get off on him.

“God you’re so pretty, so warm too.” He praises and you whine.

“Yuu help me please.” You pout as your thighs begin to burn.

“Of course baby.” He grins sitting up, you gasp at how much harder they felt, giving your clit the perfect pressure.

“O-Oh my god!” You moan loudly, shoving your face in his neck. You lick and suck and he hisses, almost growling as he moves you faster against him.

“Y-Yuu so close..” You moan in his ear.

“That’s good, cum for me like the good girl you are yea?” He whispers in your ear and when the words leave his mouth he’s flexing his abs. You’re thrashing in his arms as he grinds you down harder and faster.

“F-Fuck!” You squeal your high washing over you in an instant.

Your juices shoot out and everywhere on his stomach, coating the bed and his pants. Yuuta is overstimulating you at this point, feeling your clit spasm against his stomach. You drool against his shoulder, going limp in his arms.

He pulls you off of him, setting you up on the bed. Your eyes are almost closed and he grinds his hard on against your thigh.

“You can go for one more round right baby?” He whispers in your ear, kissing and nibbling it.

Yuuta loved pleasuring you a little too much.

Can you blame him though?

He just wants to make his sweet girl feel good♡.

© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms

[chiwhorei]

I have no idea where this came from I’m all icky sicky today and needed some Nanami comfort. ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა♡

tags: a bit of smut, mostly fluff, domestic king Nanami Kento

➽──────────────❥

Nanami isn’t ever a boyfriend he literally starts acting like a husband from day zero.

Nanami finds out your favorite flowers, because he asks u like a grown ass man, and he is getting you flowers every 2 weeks on the dot as soon as the old ones are needing to be thrown away.

Nanami is making sure he’s got the kind of soap/lotion/toothpaste you like at his place for when you sleep over. Nanami loves watching you do your nightly skincare routine, sitting up in bed barely paying attention to the book in his hands because he’s just so enamored with you.

Nanami is truly addicted to the pussy. He spends hours down on you, lapping and sucking and fucking his thick tongue into you. From the jump, too. He’s eating your pussy the night of your first date. He’s getting you off more than once that night— the first one wasn’t for you, not even the second, those were just for Kento, because he is a greedy man. By the time he’s rolling a condom on to fuck you, you’ve cum more times from just his tongue than any other man has cumulatively.

Nanami’s learning your love language and showing you his own. He’s big on acts of service and quality time. He prefers a quiet night in and cooking a meal together. He likes ordering in on lazy Friday nights. He likes going grocery shopping with you. He likes the way your fingers brush his as he hands you a dish to dry. You dry, he washes. The soapy water would chip your manicure.

Nanami asks your friends to figure out what kind of engagement ring you want. He wants it to be a surprise but he also wants to ensure you get exactly what you want. He proposes on the beach, the same one you walked barefoot on after your first date. He gets down on one knee where you stopped him that night to admire the sunset and pulled him into a kiss. Kento took a mental note as to exactly where you were standing because in that moment he knew he was going to marry you.

Nanami is a wife guy, through and through. He is at his best when you’re beside him. He takes care of you, but never gets in the way of your goals. He dotes on you but knows you are his equal and his partner. He asks you for your opinions when he’s got a big decision to make at work. He is vulnerable with you, he’s patient, he’s so kind.

Nanami ensures that you are dressed to the nines, as a couple, at any work parties, friends wedding, fancy dinners. He always wears something that compliments the dress you pick out. He’s always there to zip you up, moving your hair delicately to the side and putting it back after. He insists to lean down and help you into your heals before walking out the door.

Nanami, of course, opens every door for you, he always has a hand at your back to keep you steady. He always introduces you as his wife with so much pride. And he’s always going to drape his suit jacket over your shoulders before walking outside, even if it’s not really that cold.

Nanami is fucking you deep and raw the second you mention you think it’s a good time to start trying for a baby. He’s got you almost upside down when he’s cumming in you, to make sure you’re pregnant asap. He knocks you up on the first try and is fucking you good throughout your entire pregnancy. One because you swollen and round with his baby makes him feral and two because regular sex and frequent orgasms are important for a healthy pregnancy.

Nanami is committed to his work, but is never home a minute late. Especially after the birth of your first child. As soon as he walks through the door, you’re clocking out and taking a nice luxurious bubble bath while Kento gets some 1:1 time with your infant. He knows how exhausting it is being a new parent, especially when he went back to the 9-5 a few months after your daughter was born and you’re at home with the baby all day. So he leaves work and clocks in for the night shift, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder if you try to get up when the baby’s fussing, telling you that he’s got it. It’s his turn. You’ll cook dinner together while Kento has the baby strapped to his chest. Because the golden rule in Kento’s head is ensuring equitable partnership, making sure that the brunt of childcare doesn’t default to you because of some tired gender-norms, and of course spoiling you and his baby girl every second he can, for the rest of his life. ૮꒰˶ฅ́˘ฅ̀˶꒱ა

[blueywrites]

baby can we smoke?

eddie munson x ditsy!fem!reader you're the last person eddie expects to leave a note in his locker, but he won't regret meeting you out by the picnic table.

2.8k

cw: 18+. innocent reader (not minor-coded), corruption kink, weed usage, allusions to smut while high, no y/n, no physical descriptions.

Another 'naughty nights' ask that got a bit lengthy (check out the original ask here). I had fun writing from this perspective! Should I continue this with a part two? 👀 Let me know what you think. (PART TWO IS HERE!)

enjoy xx

Eddie finds the note in his locker right before lunch. It's written on a quarter of a math worksheet, ripped carefully at the folds and decorated with little doodles of hearts and clouds and shooting stars drawn in sparkly purple pen. That's not the only note in there, but it’s the only one that has him curious, ‘cause it’s from you.

He stops by your lunch table just before the final bell, letting his eyes rove over you while you aren’t paying attention. You’re wearing your typical attire: a fuzzy, pastel-colored sweater, baggy and soft-looking like cotton candy, paired with a little pleated skirt and that heart locket he always sees hanging from your neck in the class you share. He hadn’t pegged you as the type of girl to smoke, and it isn’t just because of the way you look since his clientele is diverse, dips into almost every pocket of the high school social ecosystem. It’s more the way you carry yourself— you seem to kind of float through life, let it bob you about without any resistance or, like, awareness, even? Like, you hum to yourself while you take notes; you don’t talk a ton, but when you do, you’ll talk to literally anybody who’s in proximity to you, including the teachers; and you’re always either giggling or smiling or, sometimes, wearing a look of vague confusion where your glossed lips will hang open, parted in a little ‘o’ like with all your concentration focused on trying to understand something, you have nothing left over to control your face.

Eddie doesn’t wanna call you dumb because that’d make him feel like an asshole, but you just seem so… innocent to be asking him to teach you how to smoke weed. It briefly crosses his mind that someone might just be trying to fuck with him and you hadn’t actually written the note, but when you finally notice him nearby, your wispy-lashed eyes widen eagerly like you’d been expecting him. 

“Yeah, so,” you say, as if continuing a conversation you’d already been having with him, “I really wanna get high, and Susie said you’re the one who sells weed, but I just don’t know how to smoke. I’ve never done it before, not even, like, cigarettes or anything.”

You seem oblivious to the way several heads at the tables around yours swing around to stare, easily overhearing since you’re not making any effort to lower your voice. Eddie merely quirks a brow at them, and when they make eye contact with him, they turn back around. “So,” you go on, “I’d just need you to help me, show me how to smoke and stuff. Would that be okay?”

Eddie debates it for just a moment before relenting with a nod. He tells you to meet him after school at the picnic table behind the athletic fields and you agree right away, smiling up at him with an expression of such utter awe and glee that he has to stop himself from snorting in amusement. It’s funny, but it’s also kind of cute, too— Eddie doesn’t remember the last time someone was so excited at the idea of receiving his help, and your enthusiasm is endearing.

It’s simply endearing all the way up until he has you sitting facing him on the picnic bench, kicking your little feet idly while you straddle it, staring at him with that little ‘o’ face of concentration as he deftly grinds the bud. You plant your hands between your spread legs, leaning forward and watching with rapt fascination as he begins to pack the green into the paper. Your bare knees press against the inside of his, soft and warm through the rips in his jeans; his eyes flick to the hem of your skirt, the way it’s barely long enough to poke out from the pooling of sweater fabric at your lap, and he adds a bonus pinch or two to the joint. It’s fat when he finishes rolling, pinching it between two callused fingers as he tilts to the side and tugs his zippo from his pocket. The lighter draws your gaze like a fluttering moth, your attention snared by the flickering flame, and Eddie finds himself staring at you for a moment before he blinks his fascination away.

“Okay.” Eddie speaks once the paper catches, and your eyes dart from the smoldering tip to his face, expectant and waiting. You’re close enough that he can see where your mascara has flaked a little onto your lids, and from this distance, your helplessness— how dependent you are on him, how sweet and open and utterly trusting you look— elicits a pang low in his belly. He swallows. “So, you’re gonna wanna keep the smoke in your mouth first, and then inhale. Not too deep though, or else you’ll cough it all out and waste it. Here, I’ll show you.” 

Eddie watches you watch him as his lips wrap around the end of the joint and he pulls from it, fairly shallowly compared to what he’d usually do. He drops his hand so you can see, lets his cheeks puff out so you won’t miss the way he’s collecting the smoke. 

And that look on your face is so entranced, Eddie feels suddenly powerful. His chest expands on the inhale, and he smirks at you, closed-mouthed and crooked as your eyes widen at how long he holds it before he lets it billow from his nose like a dragon. That delights you, and the rest of the smoke escapes Eddie’s mouth on a raspy chuckle at how simple it is to please you.

“It’s that easy?” you ask as he waves the lingering smoke away, clearing the space between you.

“‘S that easy, sweetheart,” Eddie confirms. And he finds it curious when you bite your lip, dragging your teeth along the gloss there in such a way that it has him wondering how sticky it must feel. “You ready to give it a try?”

You nod, head bouncing like a dashboard bobblehead, but when Eddie maneuvers the joint in his fingers and holds out the end for you to take, you hesitate, fidgeting and pulling at your sweater sleeves so they cover your fingers. 

“You want me to hold it for you?” Eddie guesses, and you nod again, meeting his gaze with a sweet little grateful smile that has his belly panging again, stirring with the barest amount of low, liquid heat. He reaches out, letting his hand hover at the side of your face, hesitating as he looks to you. “Can I—?”

“Yeah,” you say, your voice small and wispy in a way that isn’t helping with those stirrings he’s feeling. And your cheek is so smooth when he cups it in his hand, using the light grip to guide your face up and hold you steady for him as he brings the joint to your pouty lips. They brush Eddie’s thumb when they part for him to place the joint between them, sticking your flesh to his as you hesitantly pull the smoke into your mouth. 

“That’s it,” he rasps, merely wanting to encourage you, but you just won’t stop staring at him like that as he feeds you the hit. Like, shit, can you really blame him when the stirring creeps lower, down from his belly into his groin? Your cheeks puff up with smoke, and he can almost feel what it’d be like to see the outline of his dickhead poking out of one— all soft and slick inside, plush skin stretched tight around his—

Your hands are flapping in the air between you like you’re trying not to grab onto him, and when Eddie notices the distressed pinch between your brows, he pulls the joint hastily from between your lips. You look like a fucking chipmunk, your cheeks are so full, and Eddie realizes that as he’d zoned out thinking about his cock in your mouth, you just kept sucking and sucking ‘til you literally couldn’t anymore. 

Quickly, Eddie clutches the joint in his teeth to free his hands, gently cupping your full cheeks; sympathetic, patronizing, he says through it, “You didn’t have to— s’too much, honey, just blow a little out, okay?” 

Smoke eeks out from your pursed lips in a steady stream until he pats your face with his fingertips. “Okay, that’s enough,” he says hurriedly, lest you release the entire hit. Obedient to a fault, you are, and damn him for where his mind wanders with that information. “Now, slowly—” he tips his chin, widening his eyes for emphasis, “slowly breathe it in. Take it nice and easy.”

You do as he says, and his shoulders nearly sag with relief when you do it successfully. “Okay, hold it for a few,” he coaxes, dropping his hands and absentmindedly plucking the joint from between his teeth, watching you closely for any signs of difficulty. When you remain placid, a proud grin spreads over his face, and as the seconds tick on, you grow mutually excited, your lips pressed tight and your eyes all lit up as you look back at him. Pretty, he thinks, and then again when you finally let the breath go and smile radiantly.

“I did it!” you exclaim, drumming your sleeved hands on your thighs excitedly as you giggle.

“You did,” Eddie replies, warm and fond at the sight of your happiness and the part he played in it. He takes another hit of his own— quicker but deeper than his first— and inclines his head once he’s released it, flashing his brows encouragingly at you. “You wanna try it again?”

“Definitely,” you say, tipping your face up and leaning in expectantly. Your scent washes over him, something fruity maybe, and Eddie has to try hard not to lean further forward and drag his tongue across your lips, to pry them open and see if the inside of your mouth tastes as sweet as you smell. 

For a good while, you and Eddie trade hits back and forth, one for you for every two of his until the whites of your eyes go pink and your body loosens, unraveling upon the picnic table. You end up in a deep lean against the tabletop, your head propped in your hand, your breast squished against the wooden edge in such a way that even in that fuzzy near-shapeless sweater, the sight tantalizes him. Eddie’s feeling as high as you look, mirroring your posture with his knees spread wide, engulfing your shorter thighs in a dark frame of denim. He’s high enough that he doesn’t have that typical discomfort pinching in his chest at the silence between you, doesn’t feel the need to fill it by talking about whatever shit pops into his head. He’s consumed instead with sensation— the breeze ruffling his frizzy curls, tickling him with broken strands along his hairline; the dull crunch of old, nearly-rotted leaves under his sneakers; the hollow thrum of his pulse in his ears and the flow of living blood through his veins, cycling with each slow, rhythmic throb of his heart. And as he looks across at you— sweet, soft, sensual you — Eddie finds that since the high has his nerves all alight, he wants to touch your skin again, see how it feels now under his sensitized fingers.

The weed-haze brings with it a certain fond, almost nostalgic influence. It’s one that breaks down barriers, creates closeness where there wasn’t any, or magnifies it where there was. Your bodies are certainly closer now, sagging inward toward one another as you laze in mutual drug-induced comfort. Eddie’s used to feeling that influence, but you’re not, so when he reaches out and runs his finger down the back of your hand, you let out a small gasp at the contact. Startled, he jerks his dipping chin upright, bloodshot eyes darting to your face. But he finds no upset there, only surprise and shy pleasure painted across your features. So he plucks your hand from your lap, tugging it gently over to him and letting it rest on his thigh so he can satisfy his fascination with the texture of your skin. Your fingers twitch a little as he laces them with his, slowly dragging his fingertips through the gaps and then down your palm to your wrist. When his thumb comes back up to trace the outside of yours, you nudge into his touch, relaxing into the sensation with a languid sigh.

“Does it feel nice? The high,” he clarifies when you blink at him, droopy-lidded and wearing your little ‘o’ face. He keeps tracing along the valley of your thumb, dipping down and then back up along your index finger, enjoying the tickle of your skin against his calluses.

“Mm-hmm.” You smile, your eyes dropping to your joined hands. “Feels really nice. Kinda floaty, like my head’s not as heavy anymore.”

Eddie crooks a smile, humming his agreement. Lax and pliant, you let him continue to play with your fingers, and he’s suddenly hit with a potent impulsive urge to bring your limp hand to his mouth and nibble your fingertips, lick the smooth polish of your painted nails, suck your pinkie into his mouth and tease your skin with his tongue to see what sound you’d make. He doesn’t do that. But he does let his fingers snake under the sleeve of your fuzzy sweater, let them creep along your forearm up to the crease of your inner elbow. He drags his thumb in slow circles there, crawling around and around until he finds what he’s looking for: a sign that you feel the same stirring in your belly that he feels, revealed by the slightest whisper of a moan his touch pulls from your lips.

Encouraged, Eddie’s hands travel then— tugging out of your sleeve to smooth up your arm and over the dip of your shoulder; palming your neck, dragging up to your ear to cup around the base of your skull; ghosting across your ribcage and down to your hip; then sneaking just beneath the pleats of your tiny skirt, flexing against the hidden skin there. All the while, that liquid heat sloshes around in his belly, spreading low between his hips, dripping down to tighten in his balls and fill out his stiffening cock.

He doesn’t know exactly how it happens, but eventually, you end up laid out on the rough wood bench, your legs dangling to either side of his head as he kneels before you, nosing at the tender skin of your inner thigh. Your sigh is a shuddery, eager thing when his teeth graze the lacy edge of your cotton panties, which to his delight are swallowed up a little by the plump of your pussy lips. “Can I take these off?” Eddie asks, forcedly casual and only slightly gritty as he tries to bite back his own rabid eagerness lest he scare you off with it. But you’re quick to say yes, so quick that it tells him you want this just as much as he does, and maybe even more, though he can scarcely believe that. 

The thought makes him cocky. He eases your panties down, deliberately slow to see if you’ll get impatient. Sure enough, you wiggle your hips, whining quietly to try to hurry him; the power your neediness gives him surges with his arousal as he feels just how damp the fabric is when he balls it in his fist. Hastily, he tucks your panties into his back pocket, his eyes locked on that sweet, swollen place between your legs. 

 "Aw, look’it her,” he croons, splaying his long fingers against your inner thighs to spread you more open for him. “Can't believe you been hiding her all this time under these little skirts you wear.” 

If you’re cute, your pussy is adorable— plump like a peach, wet and ripe and glistening as he presses into your slit with his thumbs and pulls your lips apart to see more of her. She yields easily for him, splitting with a sticky click to reveal your quivering hole and your fat clit already peeking coyly from its hood. “Oh, she's so pretty, baby,” Eddie praises, his mouth watering and his cock jerking in his tight jeans, stiffening further against his zipper. “And she’s so wet already. Bet I can make 'er spit for me." 

You coo, and he lifts his head to see you biting your lip through an eager grin. "Yeah? You excited for me to touch you?" Eddie chuckles, equally fond and condescending. "Aren’t you just a sweet little thing."

“R’you gonna eat my pussy, Eddie?” you ask, and the question is so dirty but your voice sounds so goddamn innocent that he can’t help but chuckle again, this time in disbelief. 

“Yeah, baby,” he rasps, palming himself quickly over his jeans to try to bring relief because his dick is suddenly so fucking hard it aches. “I’m gonna eat your pussy.”

[st4rbwrry]

𝒞𝑅𝒜𝒵𝒴 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸.

⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: sukuna can’t accept that you’ve moved on. thinks you just need some dick to remind you where home is. ;)

warnings 𑄽𑄺 2.3k. fem reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, black coded. dilf!sukuna, fluff + smut duh, jealousy, sukuna's a cheater n we're dumb, daddy kink, body worship, choking, body worship, dry humping if you squint, consensual coercion, cum play, toxic relationship, sneaky sex, minors aren't welcomed!

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎'𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱; this is very old, originally a self ship but i just wanted to post it bc i have a lot of old fics sitting in the drafts etc.

sukuna clenches his jaw whenever he notices the new love interest in your life, nearly causing a fight one day you threw a cookout for your family and the man you're currently 'dating' is playing football with your daughter, seeing the stranger pick her up and spin her around when she scores a touchdown. it boils his blood to see your daughter smile at someone who isn't her father. sukuna awaits at the doorstep of his home, or 'ours' as he likes to call it, still delusional about your separation, claiming it's a break when it wasn't . . hands tucked into his dark gray sweatpants pockets with a smile on his usually stern face as he watches your tiny daughter run to him with giggles and bratz dolls in her hands. sukuna crouches low to grab her with a purposely exaggerated grunt, commenting on how big she's getting with a laugh.

you slam the door to your car, retrieving your daughter's duffel bag filled with things she needed for the weekend at daddy's. sukuna holds his child at his hip. you smile at her as she constantly pokes at his cheek to grab his lost attention. he couldn't keep his eyes off you. looking you up down with that all too familiar glint in his eyes. you raise your brow, glaring down at yourself dressed in a black maxi skirt that touches your ankles and a white lace top, feet in black sandals.

"what?"

"going somewhere?" he questions with authority.

"my house and back. i can't look nice?"

"you look good," you ignore the way he licks his pink lips, your daughter tapping his shoulder for the millionth time, the four-year-old always wanting to be the star of the show.

"daddy, can we watch bratz fashion ‘ixies with mommy?!" the little girl screeches excitedly.

"mommy has to go, baby," you drain the light from her face, the child frowning. sukuna eyes you.

"why?" they say periodically. you stare him down with annoyance. now she's gonna question me. before you can even speak, she's at it again.

"but we haven't watched it in months," she whines. "we watch it every day with all three of us."

sukuna sighs, rubbing her back. "it's okay, honey. me and you can just—"

"i'll stay," you cut him off immediately, not fond of seeing your daughter cry. his puppy dog act was irritating. he grins mischievously.

your daughter cheers and you lean forward to pinch her chubby cheeks, speed walking to your car to pull into the driveway before entering the familiar home, feeling somewhat vacant. the vibe is off, but a little nostalgic. you haven't stepped foot into this place in months, unable to, the idea bringing back too many unwanted memories. your divorce wasn't pretty; finding sukuna messing with another woman when you searched through his phone one day to find the messages, his excuses replaying in your head, all bullshit.

she was just one night. one night over six years? they were high-school sweethearts, and he tore that apart for a one-time fling. didn't make sense, never will. it's awkward when you stand in the kitchen you used to cook your happy family meals every day to see him make your daughter lunch for her movie, combing at her curly hair with your fingers as she went on about how she ate dyed eggs for green eggs and ham day at school. the movie was the same as usual, both of you sitting adjacent to her as she ate her lunch and enjoyed the film, falling asleep on sukuna's shoulder thirty minutes in.

school must've taken it out of her. sukuna stretches his arms, breathing out a 'finally' which makes you laugh, standing along with him as he carries her and you shut off the tv, checking a text from the man you're currently fooling around with, nothing serious. just experimenting the dating life again.

you home today? i wanna see you.

you sigh, dropping your shoulders tiredly. you weren't in the mood to see him. he was a funny guy, enjoyable to be around, and made your daughter laugh . . .but he's obscenely clingy. you liked your space, and he didn't know the meaning of it. on top of that, the sex was mediocre. nothing compared to how sukuna fucked me. you dissociated with the world momentarily, chewing on your lip as flashbacks hit, zoning out the sound of sukuna's heavy steps approaching.

"she's tucked in."

your eyes lock onto the veins bulging out of his arms, the white tee he wore hugging his muscles, and the platinum chain swinging around his neck making your face hot. dammit, stop. your stare lingers longer than you expect, sukuna lowering his face to catch your attention with a smirk.

"hello? you good?"

"yeah, sorry," you clear your throat.

"check me out all you want baby, it's still yours."

"sukuna," you roll your eyes, locking your phone and finding your car keys, needing to be as far away from him as possible before you do something you regret.

"what? i'm joking," he furrows his brows when you begin strutting towards the front door, mumbling about how your daughter's ballet recitals on sunday and not to forget to monitor her junk food intake. his hand clasps around your wrist to stop you.

"stay. i wanna talk to you."

"there's nothing to talk about."

"are you dating him?" he's straightforward, watching the muscle in his jaw clench.

"that's none of your business."

"i have a right to know who's around my daughter. yes or no? or are you just fuckin' him?"

"why?" you yank your arm away, getting in his face, barely with your height. "does it hurt your feelings? well, guess karmas a bitch."

sukuna chuckles darkly, raising his arm to tug at his bi-colored hair with frustration. "man, you're still on that shit."

you raise your brow with fury. he's shitting me. "on that . . . are you fucking serious? you tellin' me i don't have a reason to say fuck you for cheating on me?"

"all she did was suck my dick, you're acting like i was in her shit," he rolls his eyes, shrugging his shoulder with zero care in the world. "i've apologized a million times. it was one stupid night where we were at each other's throats and she just so happened to be around . . so."

"you know what." you scoff, not having time for this stupid shit. men always have bullshit excuses when trying to justify cheating. you didn't care if he kissed the bitch, cheating is cheating. you managed to bypass him, walking around the couch until he was back in your face fast once again.

you clenched your keys in your fists, ready to claw at his face with them. "what do you want?"

it's silent for a moment, the hard stare he has on you makes you feel small, folding your arms over your midsection, waiting for his response.

"i need some pussy," he whispers gravelly, slowly licking his lips and grabbing at your waist. you swallow, trying to ignore the sudden throbbing at your clit. chill out.

"text your other bitch. i'm sure she'll give it to you."

"only your sweet fuckin' pussy," now his hands are smoothing to your backside, smacking his heavy, veiny palm on your ass to draw you closer, squeezing the flesh between his long fingers. you gasp, eyes wide as you feel the outline of his dick against your stomach. his fingers are dangerously close to your pussy. "daddy misses it so much."

you inhale, shifting to try your best and break from his barricade, shoving him away which barely makes him stumble. "i'm leaving."

thinking this is your final attempt at actually leaving, that relief gets knocked down the instant his hand grabs the back of your neck and brings you back to him, his mouth pressed to the side of your neck where he breathes and kisses wetly. you freeze, the ache below never subsiding in his hold. sukuna's lifting your skirt before another word falls from your pretty little mouth, shoving his hand into your matching white lace, smirking from the ocean flowing on his thick fingers.

"you need some dick, don't you?" he whispers hotly behind your earlobe, rushing his tongue there at the same time he circles your clit, falling back into his warm chest, dropping your keys altogether. "he not hitting it right? doesn't do it like me, does he?"

shamelessly, you nod your head in agreement, giving up because you know he's right and this is what you need. you know he can give you things no other man could. it hasn't been the same ever since. any man you've been with aside from him hasn't met up to those standards. sukuna raised your pussy to only come back to him. trained to accommodate him. cum from him. fuck him. for any other man to take possession of what he crafted would be fucking fowl.

"you miss me?" sukuna hums, walking you both towards the black couch in the living room you moved too far away from your previous escape. your knees are dented into the seat, arms thrown over the back as sukuna groans low in his throat, pupils blown with lust as he tugs your panties to sit at the middle of your thighs. he presses his clothed cock to you, grinding slowly to make you feel it, let you know how much he misses you more. "you miss daddy, baby?"

you keen, face buried into your forearms shyly, rocking back onto him, feeling yourself soak his pants. sukuna hisses and smacks your ass again, pussy clenching from the attack. you whine. "yes. miss you."

"daddy misses you too," he's swift with his actions, already tugging at his dick leaking absurd amounts of precum, circling the angry red tip on your entrance before sinking in only halfway, wanting you to remember how to take him. you moan quietly, biting at your arm and taking lead by pushing back onto him, only to have sukuna retract his hips.

"don't be greedy, you'll hurt yourself." it echoes in your head when he says this, smiling cutely, loving that he cared, unlike other men. and he's kind of right. he's perfectly thick, long to the point where it surpasses his belly button. it was always hard for you to fully wrap your hand around it, towering your face whenever he stood over you, veins decorating up the underside. he draws his hips back, carefully driving into you, rolling his waist effortlessly to make you savor every ridge of his cock.

"doesn't it feel so fuckin' good?" he asks with his lip tucked between his teeth, rolling his eyes back once he starts it up, hooking you by your handles and yanking you back as he fucks you, fascinated by the jelly-like bounce your ass makes as you throw it back.

his wife was always one to never hold back her sounds, whimpering and moaning to your hearts delight. sukuna has your back arched with his other palm, reaching behind yourself to clutch at his veiny forearm, the two of you locking eyes as you glare up at him to see him slowly losing it. so much pent-up sexual frustration from not having you for months. not being able to touch another woman since so it pisses him off to know you could easily fuck another man without feeling the same. he's getting mad just thinking about it, clenching his jaw tight as he fucked you harder, deeper. you're clawing at his arm and crying his name, sukuna coming to his senses momentarily, forgetting they had a daughter who's asleep upstairs.

he moves your hand away, entwining both his large palms over your mouth and pulling you back to his chest where your head rests, sukuna standing straight as your back dips even more, cursing as your eyes switch white and you sing into his hands shielding the sweet symphonic tones.

"you forgive me?" he breathes shakily on your forehead, ruts becoming sloppy when that familiar heat twitches in his gut. this he could excuse; cumming too fast just to brush off the burning arousal for you. he'd savor you later on when it truly mattered. he'd make love to you to prove that he still loves you, that he's different now, that he'd never fuck up a good thing again. right now, he just wanted to fuck you so you know he's not letting you leave anytime soon.

your brown eyes are slanted softly, whines and delicate nods of your head are what takes him there, dropping his hands from your mouth, choking you lightly as he mashed his mouth onto yours, moaning with you as you tremble and orgasm. he stays inside you a little longer, fearing that warmth would dissipate if he stayed out too long. sukuna swallows, catching his breath and darting his attention to the way his cum flows out of you after you fall forward, taking his index and middle finger to collect it and shove it back inside. you laugh at him with a silent 'fuck off' and smack his hand away. he grins happily, massaging your backside adoringly. this isn't a pass that you're going back to him. but having you in his presence as of now was a start he could be satisfied with.

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡