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#because what’s the point when you’re always giving him dirty looks
kingkatsuki · 2 years
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Like literally imagine glaring at Bakugou so much that he thinks you hate him, but really it’s because he’s so fucking pretty it makes you mad.
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planetsage · 2 months
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NEW PIN ! ꒰ 🌱 INTOLEWD 𖧧˚⋆ʚɞ ── kento nanami . . . SAVE ?
“you’re a kind of angel, dancing by the table, i was doing fine till i met you”
contains. nsfw so, minors and ageless blogs do not interact. f!reader, dirty talk, fingering, pussy slaps, “good girl,” squirting. cheating. mentions of age gap.
“awwh, my sweet thing. loosen up for me, baby” the palms of nanami’s large hands rub and soothe over your pussy. cupping, caging in your warmth like a little dove. with care, covering your entire cunt before dipping a thick knuckle back into your walls. “you were acting so needy earlier, baby, let me in. cmon, let me in that pretty pussy”
the sounds you’re making are just filthy and nanami drinks them in like that very first sip of morning coffee pushing past pursed lips. your body falls limp like a pretty rag doll against the broadness of his chest, caving into his warmth as you weakly grab and paw at the blades of blonded bahia on his wrist. scratching the polished metal of his watch “w-wasn’t begging, ken”
a laugh rumbles from deep in his chest with no other purpose but to make you feel so small in him. heat threatening to burn the flushed skin on your cheeks right off. “so grindin’ on my thigh like a needy mutt isn’t beggin’? was finishing up some work and you couldn’t even wait, baby. kept pressin’ that needy little clit on me.” his voice vibrates thick vocal chords, producing a rasped melody that lingers and releases a kaleidoscope of butterflies in your stomach.
“no i- aah!” another finger slips into your cunt, curling up, scissoring against your wet walls.
“there it is. riiiight there. that’s where you want me, huh, baby?” he’s pushing against that swelled spot he knows you love more than life itself with the lined sensitive tips of his lengthy fingers making your brain mush.
your thighs part instinctively, your neck failing, making your head dip and fall to watch how lewdly his fingers disappear into the folds of your fat cunt, “see look. so messy, but i barely started touching you. was this already here?” he pulls at the strings of webbed silk that drip out your cunt, “got all wet grindin’ on me, hm? left me a little present?” he coos at you from behind your neck. the blushed tip of his pointed nose brushes against warmed skin softly when you buck up and whine. “poooorr thing,” he drags, “what’s wrong? want me to fuck you? want me to stretch that little pussy out? talk to me, baby”
and you just can’t because your jaw slacks at the curve of his finger dragging and massaging against your fluttering walls. his thumb moves to draw his name on your clit, to soothe his existence onto every inch of your body so you’d never forget how he makes you feel, groaning at how you squeeze and hug him.
“uhn uh, i asked you a question,” slap “i expect” slap “an answer”
your clits throbs at how he swats down on your pussy, “hnngg— want it, want it so bad” you whine. thrashing in the solitude of his warmth. he eggs you one with a “yeah?” moving back to press up against your clit, “what are you, baby? tell me and i’ll give you what you want. you remember, hm?”
he sweetly kisses the hairs on the back of your neck, little pins poking across the length of your body. you give him a nod and a whine and he smiles at both, “y.. your good girl. i’m your good girl, ken.”
“mhm, always so good for me, yeah? now let me make you feel like it, pretty” his lips press against your neck, again, then he’s licking and whispering into your caved ear as he lets his fingers sink back into your pussy, “give it to me, make a mess for me”
he moves to hold down the curve of your hip, ”yeeaa, my twitchy little thing, cmon” stilling you as his fingers rush deep, deep inside you, reaching places only he can.
your knees fight and knock against each other and he pushes against the mound of your tummy, coaxing you to give him want he wants. make him proud. and you do. throwing your head back against the strength of his angled shoulder as you squelch and squirt on fresh fitted sheets, “ohhh, fuck baby. mhm, juuustt like that. let it all out”
he hums and encourages you while his fingers move out to messily rub at your clit and your body feels like it’s engulfed in angry blued flames, eyes squeezing so hard the darkness is punctured by coils of swirling colors.
tears brim as you come down and they fall when you finally peel your lids back open, nanami kissing you so gently you melt like warmed wax but harden and mold back into him.
“ino ever make you feel this good? does he make this pretty pussy squirt like that, hm?” he pets at your head as it shakes, then at your pussy before moving to lap up the mess you made on his fingers. “that’s okay, my dove. just need someone older, more experienced to take care of you. that’s what i’m here for”
© planetsage 2024 all rights reserved. no part of this may be reproduced in any form.
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eupheme · 1 month
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— sharing is caring
[part ii of come on and show me | masterlist]
logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson
rated e - 4k
tags: MMF threesome, jealous!reader, reader is wade's girl, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, open relationship, eiffel tower, oral sex, piv, shared blow job, one affectionate use of the word slutty, reader has her hair tugged, light wade degradation, come sharing/swapping, praise kink
It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.
You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station. Neither one of you had stood a chance.
(or - you’re both eager to spend time with Logan again)
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The party is in full-swing. Plastic cups full of NOS and liquor - a crumpled up, passed around piece of paper, filled with scribbled-down drinking games.
It’s week two of Wade’s ‘Friday Night Yikes: an Analysis of Films Unfairly Nominated for the Razzies’ - or, movie night, to keep it simple.
A buzz of conversation during the intermission between the third and the fourth Fast & Furious movies, as you worked your way to Fast X.
It’s your first time being back at the apartment since your shared morning together. A busy past couple days - work schedules always just out of sync.
Wade coming to you one of those nights after you got off late - quiet, midnight murmurings filled with interest and hope, a conclusion that both of you on the same page.
Leaving you to wonder if he would be, as well.
You’ve felt the weight of Logan’s gaze throughout the night. Dropping when you glance his way, busying himself with his drink, passing around the bowl of chips or popcorn.
Trapped between Colossus and Peter - the seating in the small apartment is already limited. You've been perched on Wade's lap for the last hour, legs kicked over the side of an armchair as your head rests against his shoulder. A smile, with the rumble of laughter under your ear. The fingers that curl around your waist, fingers brushing.
But you know his gaze drifts across the room as well.
Catching the tail end of a conversation, Logan's beer tipped back as Piotr swipes through a phone that looks toy-sized in his hand.
"-be lonely in an apartment like this. I could help you find a nice girl."
It's not the first time this conversation has risen, but it's the first time it's made you go tense in Wade's arms.
"You don't want this hunk of metal helping you," Wade jumps in, "I got just the guy. Hope you like scars, because good news-"
Even as your elbow digs into his ribs, he doesn't budge.
“Right.” Logan scoffs, interrupting, “As if I was into loud-ass, scar-covered, bald assholes. You wish, Wilson.”
It doesn’t hold the same animosity it would’ve a week ago. There’s a muffled “fuck” breathed in your ear, the tilt of hips that lift beneath you.
“Nothing wrong with a bald asshole. Preferable, sometimes.” Wade smirks with a wink, “Come on Logi Bear, we can’t let a handsome young man like you become a spinster. What’s your type?”
Only now do Logan's eyes meet yours, holding your gaze as he answers.
"Don't have one."
It makes you inhale a breath, a little jolt in your belly.
'You have already got a girl, Wade. That is my point," Piotr frowns. A hum of interest as he shows Logan his phone, "What about Domino? You remember her, right?"
Peter leans from the other side, "Wade, you were supposed to give her my number."
"She has it." Piotr brushes him off, as Peter looks crushed. There’s a ping from Logan’s pocket - the information sent over.
Always getting lucky. You like Domino, quite a bit actually, but the thought sends a fresh wave of oozing green jealousy washing over you.
Logan huffs, a shift as his legs stretch out - the hint of a smirk, as he deflects, “How do you know me and Althea haven't been getting cozy?”
There’s a derisive snort from the armchair to your right.
“You wish you could handle me, motherfucker.”
There a chorus of laughter, Wade’s voice ringing out.
“Was that a joke?” It pitches up, as if he can’t believe it, “You're getting soft, maybe you are getting laid.”
As is he hadn’t been gargling Logan’s balls just a few days before. Coming so hard with his roommate’s fist around his cock, that he saw stars.
The look Logan shoots his way is unreadable. A lazy roll of his eyes, before his head tips towards the television.
“Just start the goddamn movie, dumbass.”
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You slip from Wade’s lap when Logan peels from the couch to grab another beer. The chip bowl scooped up off the table - can’t be running out, not when there’s another hour still left to go.
A moment as you linger, watching as the fridge light illuminates his face. The silhouette of his features, the sharp cut of his facial hair flecked with grey - before he’s catching you, an eyebrow cocked.
You make a show of rounding the fridge, stepping into the narrow pantry. Hoping that he follows.
He doesn’t let you down.
“You’re not gonna call her, are you?”
It’s not what you mean to ask him, even if it’s certainly what you’ve been thinking about - the conversation a lead weight in your belly.
There’s a beat, as his eyebrow lifts. The peek of the tip of his tongue, running across a canine.
“I might,” He drawls, an arm bracing on the shelves, filling the doorway, “Gonna try to convince me not to, sweetheart?”
That jolt inside you plummets, until you see the curl of his lips. How there’s a dark heat that simmers in his eyes, as they drop to your mouth.
Teasing. Logan is teasing you.
You step into him. A hand curling around the back of his neck, his sharp intake of breath just audible before your mouth tips up to his.
It only lasts as long as a heartbeat, but you can still feel the hunger.
How his hands curve around your waist, dipping to cup against your ass. Tugging you flush as he licks into your mouth, leaving you panting when you pull away.
You can’t get too caught up. Not with your friends just across the room, this tenuous connection still taking shape between you.
“Come stay with us tonight.” It’s quiet, as his lips brush yours again, “We’ll take care of you.”
Logan’s eyes open, his voice a low rasp.
“Thought it was a one-time thing.”
You can’t bite back your smile, “Mm, think it was at least a three-time thing, if I’m remembering right.”
And there’s still his words, echoing in your mind, when it wanders. “Our girl.” If it had been possible to come from that alone, you just might have.
He huffs, and your voice softens.
“But no. Not if you don’t want it to be.”
The look he gives you is searching.
“Wade put you up to this?”
You lean against the shelves, arms crossing, “Wade has been half-hard all night, thanks to you. He feels the same, hasn’t been able to stop looking at you.”
His tongue pokes against his cheek.
“I’ve noticed. You two are not subtle.”
Heat licks at your cheeks, as your eyes drop. It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.
You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station.
Neither one of you had stood a chance.
“I’m sorry.”
You try to move away from him, but there’s no where to go. His hand reaches out, even as his eyes shift away - settling somewhere next to your ear as his own pinken.
“Don’t be. It’s… uh,” There’s a lift of his shoulder, as he searches for a word, “Nice. Been a long time.”
“I find that hard to believe.” You smile, head tilting, “So… maybe just think about it?”
There’s the sound of a cinematic explosion behind you - layered laughter pulling you out of the moment.
Logan leans close. A held breath, before he grabs the bag of chips off the shelf - dropping them into your bowl as he takes a step back.
Just as aware as you are of the time that has passed.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” He purrs, “I’ll think about it.”
There’s a low murmur in your ear, when you slip onto Wade’s lap a few minutes later. Stalling as you refilled, waiting for Logan to settle in before you went back.
You can feel him now, the considerably-more-pronounced ridge that presses into the curve of your ass. The hand that settles almost possessively just beneath your breasts, splaying wide.
“You’re so hot when you’re jealous.” Wade rasps in your ear, a press of his lips against your neck.
This time when your elbow digs into his side, he laughs.
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“Hello gorgeous,” Wade coos, “I’ve missed you.”
Logan shifts, scowling, “I live with you.”
There’s a sigh from behind you, as you settle between Logan’s thighs. It’s late now - the movie eventually winding to an end.
Tension stringing tight in your belly, that warm weight as everyone bid goodbyes. Al conked out on her recliner after ten minutes into the second movie, something that Wade may or may not have planned.
Making for Wade’s room - starting where you left off in the kitchen. Clothed peeled off with the wandering of mouth and hands, bared by the time the door kicks shut behind you.
Your palm pressing against his chest as he settles back against the headboard - you and Wade fitting yourselves onto the bed alongside him.
Even though you’ve seen him before, he’s still a sight to behold - all thick muscles and hair-dusted skin - something you’re still taking in.
“Not you,” Wade clarifies - a hand smoothing down your back.
Your thighs press together, squirming already, as his hips settle just shy of the soft curve of your ass. A shift, as he gets comfortable - the weight of his stiff cock dipping against your skin.
“I’m talking to king dong right here.”
There’s a rough scoff, “Don’t talk to my dick, Wilson.”
“Well someone has to. He told me he’s lonely, poor thing. Always what you doing, not how you doing. Isn’t that right, big guy?”
“Alright,” Logan scowls, a hand bracing on the headboard as he lifts up, “I’m out of-”
He chokes on the sound, as your tongue peeks out to lap at his shaft.
It’s pretty - flushed at the tip, as it rests against his thigh. A thickening twitch as you kiss along his hard length, down to the dark, wiry hair - a hushed groan as he sags back into place.
“Didn’t get to taste you last time.” You murmur, fingers wrapping around the base, “Been thinking about this.”
Stroking against skin, as you take him into your mouth. A soft moan in your throat, as he fills you - the tip skating across your tongue.
“‘s right,” Wade comments, with another roll of his hips. Thumb pressing against the tip, angling him down to tease as your entrance, “Gotta level the playing field, gorgeous.”
A glance up at Logan, eyes narrowing as he smirks.
“We’re totally pussy pals now, bee tee dubs. Both opened the gates of Mordor. Took ole one-eye to the same optometrist.”
The annoyed groan you make turns soft, as he starts a lazy rhythm with his hips. Knowing how to wind you up - skating his length against your slit, as try to take another inch down your throat. Cheeks hollowing as you suck, tongue tracing the underside of his tip.
“Counting down the days until we’re cock comrades,” He adds, with a friendly pat against your ass - before he sends Logan a wink, “But I’m willing to wait for marriage. Know you’re old-school, peanut.”
There’s a pull of Logan’s brow. A scowl, as he shifts - the movement nudging him deeper into your mouth. Distracting him from the sharp retort as you moan, the sound buzzing against his cock.
He meets your eyes, half-lidded. A hand coming to cup your jaw, urge you to take just a little more.
“Cold day in hell before that happens.”
It’s gritted out, half-hearted as your head bobs. A slow stroke of your fist across spit-slick skin - his hips lifting, chasing you.
“I dunno,” Wade coos. Eyes dropping down to the leaking tip of his cock. His thumb pressing against the curve of your ass - tugging you open so he can watch how he sinks into you.
“I have a way of making people beg.”
You whimper, as he inches into you. Mouth full, spit pooling on your tongue. It almost overwhelming, to be between them like this.
The pleasurable warmth that loops through you, your eyes sliding shut. Leading into Logan’s touch as Wade splits you open, leaving you squirming.
There’s a shift, as his hands slip to flatten against the mattress. A smooth drag as he surges forward - hilting himself with a final roll of his hips.
It makes you gasp, even with how slick you are. Clenching down around the cock that fills you - eagerness flickering in your belly, as you life your hips to take him deeper.
“Fuck, baby. So fucking tight.” Wade moans appreciatively. Slipping half-way out, only to watch how your ass sways when he fills you again, “Gonna turn my dick into a goddamn diamond. Emma Frost this shit.”
Another thrust sending you forward. A rhythm starting - sinking back onto Wade’s cock when to rock back, your throat relaxing when you take Logan further.
Your jaw has to open wide take him. There’s a throb against your tongue as he nudges at your throat. A rattling gasp when you’re shifting back again.
“Feels good, sweetheart,” Logan coos - his hands curving around your throat, fingertips at the base of your neck, “Think you can take more?”
The praise stokes the fire in your belly. Eyes wide as you nod - Wade slowing as you angle your head.
“Oh yeah, she can.” Wade purrs.
Watching as you try to take more, until your nose is brushing the coarse hairs at his base. The air burning in your lungs as you hold your breath.
A gasp, when you pull off him. Leaving you to kiss and suck at his tip, lips slick with spit.
You ache for them - your other hand wedging between your hips and the mattress. A whine when your fingers circle, slipping against slick skin.
It sends your nerves alight, with the way Wade grinds himself into you. His cock dragging against your walls, nudging against a sensitive spot inside you - you can feel your thoughts starting to go hazy.
“You think she gets wet from kissing? Fuck, you should feel her now.” There’s a rough thrust, the slap of skin against skin.
There’s a pressure against your back, as Wade dips down. His chest pressing against your shoulders - caging you in as his cheek nudges against yours.
A kiss dropped against your shoulder.
“You get a little slutty with a dick in your mouth, baby?” His voice goes soft and low - teasing.
“That’s okay, I do too.”
His words make you moan. He’s deeper like this, filling you with shallow thrusts. A hand tucking beneath you, cupping a breast.
A rough groan in your ear, “Makes me wonder… why am I letting you have all the fun?”
Logan’s hips lift on their own accord. A bitten-back sound, trapped in throat as you register what he means.
Your head angling to make room for your boyfriend, lips trailing down to press against his base. A tilt of your fist, holding Logan’s cock for him steady as you smile.
“Room for two, honey.”
There’s the twitch of Logan’s hands against your skin, his grip tightening in your hair. His eyes dark when you glance up at him. A heave to his chest, lips parted as the tip of his cock slips past Wade’s lips.
“Fuck.” It’s gritted out.
His hand leaves your neck to hook against Wade’s shoulder, fingers pinching into skin. A muffled sound caught in his throat, as Wade pulls off him and grins.
Twin kisses pressed against his shaft. You travel up this time, tongue tracing over the thick vein. Logan’s jaw clenching, teeth grinding together.
“Don’t hold back on us, daddy long leg.” Wade hums, smirking, “As if you didn’t cream your panties the last time I did this.”
A drag of his tongue against Logan’s sack, and the moan loosens. Words coming with it, the next time you trade - kisses pressed against the seam, as Wade takes the shaft into his throat.
“Oh shit,” It’s panted out, “That’s it, put that fucking mouth to good use.”
There’s a groan, with the bob of his head. Your own lifts as you watch, a soft hum as you kiss his throat. Watching the way his eyes flutter shut, brow pinching as he tries to take him further.
“You’re not used to something this big, are you baby?” You coo, “Gonna need some help?”
“Fuck.” Wade laughs, as he pulls off him - the sound strangled, as the rock of his hips goes sloppy, “Teaming up me. Don’t bully me, I’ll-”
He moans, when Logan’s hand presses on the back of his head, urging him back down. Your teeth sinking into your lip as you grin - a kiss pressed against Wade’s cheek, then chin.
A shift, until the tip slips from his mouth, and then you’re sharing it - messy, spit-slick lips against skin. Open-mouthed, tasting him, tasting Logan, as you rock back to meet his thrusts.
“Fuck, I dreamed about this.” It slips from Logan. Hushed, you almost miss it in the hazy swirls of your mind.
It shoots through you, straight to your clit. Your efforts doubled - you like how messy it is, the brush of his tongue against yours. The hand between your thighs bracing on the mattress instead so you can twist further, the other pulling his mouth to fully meet yours.
There’s a ragged moan, as Wade’s body goes taut. His face burying in your shoulder as he ruts into you - two more shallow thrusts before he’s spilling with a rough moan inside.
Grinding against you, pumping himself into your tight warmth until the throbbing pulse of his cock ebbs. Until you’ve milked him empty, his come painting your walls.
“It’s too much,” Wade gasps, lips curling up at the edges. Teeth nipping at your skin, “You two are gonna kill me-”
Logan huffs - eyes dark, “If fucking you to death was an option, our fight would’ve gone a lot differently.”
“Look at you,” It’s wheezed against your skin, an eye cracking open, “Another joke.”
Logan hums, more amusement than annoyance. A hand slipping from Wade’s shoulder, wrapping around his base. A slow squeeze in front of you, as your eyes widen.
“Supposed to be taking care of you.” Your smile is sheepish, “Sorry, Logan.”
Too caught up in sharing him - the weight against your tongue, how the tip slipped between pressed-together lips - to concentrate on your goal.
“You are.” It comes out rough - another squeeze. Angling it down, tapping the tip against your tongue when your mouth opens.
“Know you want a taste baby, but I’m not coming ‘til you do.”
You groan, as you suck him. As he feeds his cock to you, still stroking at the base. Feeling empty when Wade eases from you, hands at your hips - coaxing you to your knees for him.
“Human centipede, got it.” Wade grins - kissing down your back. Teeth sinking into the curve of your ass, as you hiss, “Better save some for me, gorgeous. Sharing is caring.”
You jolt, when his mouth presses against you.
Practiced swirls of his tongue, fingers that replace his cock. The needy rut of him inside you has been edging you since he started - and as you watch the way Logan watches both of you, it’s not long before you feel that tell-tale twist inside you, that pressure that winds tight.
Logan growls - all rasping voice and pinched brow. His lips parted, thighs inching wider as you let you hands wander across the thick muscles of his thighs.
Tracing over his fingers and lower, cupping him. A sharp hiss - his fist squeezing at his base, holding himself back.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let me give you what you want.”
It’s as close as you’ve heard to begging. A moan as the fingers curl and sink inside you. Teasing swipe of a tongue, dipping down to press against your hole. Panting breaths turning into whimpers, as Logan’s cock brushes over your lips.
“Please,” You whine, rocking back, “I want it, Logan. Wanna come-”
Wade’s lips close around your clit, and with the pound of his fingers, that string inside you snaps. Pleasure arcs through you, crackling up your spine.
Eyes half-lidded as you moan, the plunge of his fingers drawing out your orgasm. Muscles tensing as he teases at the sensitive bud - sharp, pointed licks that leave your toes curling.
Logan’s fist moves faster, as he watches you come undone in front of him. A hand curving around your chin to keep it in place - a thumb hooking around your teeth to keep your lips parted.
“Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it.” Logan growls, “Open your mouth for me, there you go.”
You open wider, just in time to catch the ropes of come that spill across your tongue. Taking him into your mouth, tongue lapping at the sensitive head as Logan moans. His fist working himself empty into your mouth, pulsing against your tongue.
“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” Wade’s hands press against your hips as he shifts beside you, “But don’t you fucking swallow.”
His hands joining Logan’s, tilting your head to mouth to the side - thumbing at your lip.
“Open.” Wade grits out - a sharp hiss when he sees how you hold it on your tongue, just before his mouth presses to yours.
Something thrumming in your belly, as he licks into your mouth. You’ve never shared anything quite like this before - the heady mix against your tongue. The moan that slides from you, echoing with the buzz in Wade’s throat.
The look of hunger in Logan’s eyes, when the kiss breaks. Lips glossy with your messy kiss, as his hands close around your biceps. It’s easy, with his strength, to tug you up until you’re straddling him.
His half-hard cock trapped against his slick core as he pulls you close. You laugh as your knees press into the mattress, a hand braced on his chest.
“Okay,” You hum, eyes dragging down, “This time, you lay back. Let me take care of everything.”
The murmured “fuck” against your lips, before his mouth presses to yours. Hips canting upward, seeking your heat.
And if you were a betting girl…
You’d bet this wasn’t a two-time thing, either.
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Wade stretches out, cat-like. A matching lazy grin, as he peers out of one eye up at Logan, using a thigh like a pillow.
“Never thought I’d visit Paris,” He sighs, “Much less twice in one night. Good thing I’d been saving those frequent flyer miles.”
A yawn, muffled with the back of his hand, “Though I guess it’s not your first time though. Eh, Valjean?”
Logan grunts, the sound buzzing beneath your ear, where you head cradles against his chest. Muscles still burning from riding him, until his hands had hooked under your thighs to help.
Your leg stretches out now as you doze - boneless - hooking around his other thigh, as his fingers trace patterns on your skin.
“And don’t you think I didn’t hear that you dreamed about this,” Wade props himself up on an elbow - never one to let a comfortable silence linger.
A finger reaching out to poke his roommate in the ribs, “You catching feelings, peanut?”
Logan’s eyes roll, as he bats the hand away - nudging you to the side so he can ease carefully out from under you.
“Don’t ruin it.”
Swinging his legs around until he can push himself up - his ear to the door for a heartbeat until it’s swinging open.
“You’re coming back, right?” You ask, groggy - the words murmured out into the dim room.
His head turns, glancing back as he turns. You can catch the way his eyes soften, a thumb hitched over a shoulder toward the bathroom.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Just grabbing somethin’ to clean you up.”
“I’ll be right back.”
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thanks for reading! 💖 I have three more nights I’ve been wanting to explore with them (next one being the old dp with dp+w), so hopefully will have that up soon!
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tojisun · 3 months
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!! it’s very silly and unserious and the only reason it’s long is because it’s so vivid in my head. unedited as hell </3
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nosy neighbours tf 141 got me giggling. and it’s not even inherently sexy nor attractive, it’s really just them being in people’s (or a person’s) business.
thinking about how, in retirement, they still bought a house together because it’s so odd to have separate lives. and so they bought one in the suburbs, with five bedrooms and four baths, and a really big backyard. kyle picked up gardening so the backyard was not just a plus but a damn requirement.
so they move in, not giving a damn about that one old WASP couple across the street watching them all with a sneer because apparently moving in with your mates is unusual. well, whatever. fuck them.
then they meet their new neighbour. you’re single—divorced, price would tell them later—whose life is centred around your 9 to 5 job at an office in the city which you wake up at 5am for.
you leave the house at 6:30am and then amble back home when it’s pushing 8pm. it’s a boring life; a boring routine. not even your little front lawn of cared-for wild flowers managed to hold their attention longer than a day.
so with that said, they’d like to go on a record and say that it’s all johnny’s fault.
friday evening, he started the game by saying, “she bought a baguette.” he paused. “and a bottle? it's shaped like lube?”
john blinked, setting his book down. “what.”
mactavish shrugged, still peering from the crack in the curtains. kyle walked in then, his apron all dirtied. “hey, i’m craving a baguette.”
johnny laughed and looked at price like price was supposed to get something from that. of course he didn’t, but johnny’s always been good at carrying the momentum so, to no one’s surprise, he repeats the observation three days after the previous one.
“bag’o coal and lemon bread. what the hell.”
“that’s a disgusting dinner combo,” kyle chirps, switching the channels.
simon throws a pillow at him because he had been watching a documentary about moths when kyle changed the program without asking him.
“it’s just monday,” john finally replies, cementing his participation in the game. “why’s she buying lem—did she not grocery shop?”
johnny looks at him, wide-eyed. “that’s a good question, sir.” then he turns, ignoring them again to peer at their neighbour. john’s sure you’re back in your home so he really doesn’t know what johnny’s watching at that point.
simon was successful at wrestling the remote control back to him, and the program’s returned to the moths.
.
thursday evening, two and a half weeks after monday’s lemon bread and bag of coal, the game picks up again.
“who the hell makes a rug purchase during the weekdays?” kyle asks, his voice teetering between fascination and concern.
“how long’s the rug?” johnny replies, all of them watching as kyle stands in front of that slip of window they now use for ‘bird watching.’
kyle spreads his arms out—2.5 ft.
“huh,” johnny says. “for the toilet, you reckon?”
“probably for the cat, actually,” simon cuts in.
“what cat.” john doesn’t even know who asked that, but really—what cat?
“a round thing,” simon answers. “grey fur.”
“aww,” johnny croons. “that’s cute.”
john sighs and turns back to the morning paper’s crossword puzzle for the day.
.
you don’t join the neighbourhood’s annual summer barbecue party much to their disappointment. although, in all fairness, john understands your decision because they wouldn’t have gone to it anyway had they not found out that the host this year was going to be that WASP couple who still sneered at them every chance they get.
the wife, of course, couldn’t turn them away in front of the other neighbours who particularly loved kyle and, shockingly, simon so there they are, eating what is begrudgingly some good ribs while listening to the neighbourhood gossip.
and while each story was riveting, nothing could honestly hold a candle to their ‘bird’ and your peculiar grocery runs.
.
one evening, you come home with a man. john tells them it’s your ex-husband, admitting to them that yes, he’s now used up their once-a-month pass to accessing ‘special’ resources with regards to finding more about you.
“think they’re fuckin’?” johnny asks, no longer feigning disinterest.
kyle groans because it had been more than a minute now since johnny dropped a card from his stack; they tried their best to be patient as they waited, thinking mactavish needed more time since, apparently, he’s never played cards before—growing up as a catholic boy, he’s always been told that any form of gambling was a gateway to eternal damnation.
john didn’t have the heart to tell him that you didn’t have to make bets to be able to play cards.
“maybe,” simon replies, ignoring kyle’s angry grumbling. “why else would she bring him home? her house ain’t really a wonder.”
“…how do you know that?” kyle asks, his words measured and slowed.
simon blinks, then he sniffs, before looking away.
“hey!” mactavish screams, catching on. “we agreed no tampering with anythin’ of ‘ers!”
“yeah? well tell ‘at to cap’n too—he was already there when i broke in.”
johnny turns to him with a theatrical betrayed look. kyle drops his head on the table because the game’s been fully abandoned now.
“sir,” johnny says, his voice airy like he’s speaking mid-gasp. “you didn’t.”
john licks the back of his teeth, then, “jus’ wanted to see ‘er cat, s’all.”
.
the ex-husband leaves three hours later with a familiar rug tucked to his side.
.
“huh,” simon murmurs, his voice so faint that john almost missed it. “tulips and tuna today.”
johnny and kyle would’ve loved the update but the two are away for the week.
john messages it to the group chat.
suds (19:21)
> holy shit she’s improving.
.
oddly enough, it took them six months since they moved in for them to finally talk to you.
or, well, for you to talk to them.
“i’m havin’ a yard sale tomorrow,” you say after the introductions have passed, your lips tugged up in a shy smile.
john honestly couldn’t even remember how he used to envision you—old age caught up to him and for a whole while, you were nothing but a coloured blob in his eyes since they turned out to be more damaged than expected—but whatever that had been was erased the moment you stood before them.
shy and awkward, your back slouched just a little like you’re trying to curl into yourself in the face of their rapt attention, but even then you’re beautiful.
“yeah?” kyle asks, smiling; the first to break out of the trance you put them into. “and would y’need help, pretty miss?”
“oh, you,” you murmur, strained laughter peeling from your lips. “and yeah, i do. would that be alright? i tried moving my old couch downstairs and my back almost gave out. i swear, i thought i was going to see the lord today.”
johnny laughs, loud and booming. “well we’re glad that you didn’t die today, otherwise who would take care of little truffle, huh?”
john barely stopped himself from heaving out a loud sigh, an attempt made more challenging when he caught the way kyle whirled his head to glare at mactavish, the act not any less subtle since it startled you too. simon grumbles something incoherent—it’s lost amidst johnny’s petering laugh and your swelling horror.
“…how, exactly, do you know my cat’s name?”
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gloomwitchwrites · 4 months
Text
Locker Room
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader
Word Count: 1.3k
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, enemies-ish to lovers, sexual tension, arguments, suggestive themes, intimate touching, teasing, dirty thoughts
A/N: For @glitterypirateduck 's Ghost Writing Challenge. I used prompts 43, 97, & 99. (I had so much fun challenging myself to do this all in one go. I set a timer and everything.)
After finding an infuriating note on your desk, you confront Simon in the communal locker room.
Part Two // Simon's POV
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist
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Beneath your skin is an inferno.
It’s not the kind that blazes for another, or burns in tandem with a deep yearning. This is just seething anger and blunt frustration.
You’re ready to knock out some fucking teeth.
How dare he? Who the fuck does Lieutenant Riley think he is?
When you return reports to Captain Price, you point out all the inconsistences and errors. The lack of accountability and absolute carelessness has been scratching at you for ages, and this time you had enough. Usually Price shrugs, fixes whatever you’ve marked—to a degree—and then returns them without argument.
This time? Price took one look at them and told you to talk to Simon.
Not a problem. No issue at all. You and Lieutenant Riley have always been on good terms. Sometimes, it’s been more than good. You’ve caught him staring for far too long, or he stands a bit too close as if the two of you are a couple and not coworkers. And while you’ve internalized the fantasy, it’s not like you’ve ever acted on it.
But now you’re just irritated.
You handed over the files yesterday evening, and this morning you found them back on your desk. It’s not the turnaround but Lieutenant Riley’s audacity of placing those files back on your desk with a singular sticky note.
The reports are just fine, sweetheart.
Sweetheart. Sweetheart?
The other day you imagined what it might be like to have the burly, masked man call you a pet name, but this is just fucking condescending.
Your heels clack sharply against the linoleum floor. Perhaps it’s the rage in your face, because every person you meet on your rampage steps out of your way, their gaze averted. Rounding a corner, you exit through a side door and into one of the hangars. A few people glance up, frowning, but return to their job.
Sighing heavily, you approach the nearest person. “Where’s Lieutenant Riley?”
The young man—who looks right out recruitment—glances up. He swallows and peers over his shoulder as if he’s not sure he’s supposed to say. “Locker room, ma’am?”
“Thank you,” you reply sharply, turning on your heel and heading for another door leading to the communal gym.
“But—” he begins, stumbling to his feet as you charge on. “Ma’am! You can’t—”
The door slams shut behind you and you don’t look back.
This is one of several communal spaces. There are the usual training areas on base but there are also a few gyms for those that want to get a bit of extra work in. Every head turns toward you and many don’t look away. This one is just for the men, and you’re the odd duck.
And fuck it. You don’t care. You’re too fucking mad right now to think of anything else but giving Lieutenant Riley a piece of your goddamn mind.
With everything pumping in your veins, the reality of you storming toward the locker rooms hasn’t even dawned. Hasn’t clicked. Fury laces your every step, and even here, where you’re not supposed to be, the men in your path move as if they sense the rage.
When you burst through the door and meet a wall of steam, all the heat suddenly extinguishes. Glancing around, you’re met with wide-eyed stares and surprised expressions.
Keeping your gaze as upward as you can, you clear your throat. “Where is Lieutenant Riley?”
There is only silence. Maybe if you stare at the top of the lockers for long enough, you’ll somehow gather your courage again.
“I asked where Lieutenant—”
“I’m right here.”
You turn abruptly and freeze.
Lieutenant Simon Riley stands before you in nothing but a towel. It hangs low on his hips. Other than that, the bottom-half of his face is covered up by a black mask and his dog tags dangle from his neck. His hair is a wet, tussled mess, and his chest glistens with water like he just stepped out from the shower.
Simon simply stares at you for a moment as you stand in utter silence. His gaze, which is piercing and fierce, slides away to scan the room. He doesn’t have to say anything. The rest of the men in the room grab bags and clothes, rushing to exit through the door you just entered from.
When the last man leaves, Simon rolls his shoulders, straightening his spine. It makes him appear larger, more intimidating, and that one movement draws forth a heat in your belly. This isn’t anger. This is need.
“I know what you came here for,” he says, and it’s so casual a tone that the earlier rage comes rising up.
“I’m sure you do,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.
Simon says nothing. His dark eyes remain on you, unmoving and cold, yet pinning you to the spot as if you’ve been impaled by a spear.
“Are you going to apologize?”
“Why?” he asks automatically.
You scoff. “Are you fucking serious?”
“You didn’t come here for an apology.”
You uncross your arms and hold them out in front of you, bent at the elbows. “The reports—”
“The reports are fine.”
You roll your eyes and throw your hands up in the air. “There are inconsistencies everywhere. I can’t submit them as they are.”
Simon rolls his neck and then strides forward. Instinct has you stepping back, moving away, but you bump into a row of lockers. He doesn’t stop until he’s leaning over you, one large hand pressing into the metal to the side of your head.
“You’re nitpicking,” he replies.
“About lazy writing?”
“Oh, love. I assure you. I’m thorough.” At that, Simon leans in, and your hands rise instinctually, pressing against his firm chest.
Simon’s gaze doesn’t drop from your face. His entire attention is on you and that heat is back, twisting in your stomach, stirring up a slickness between your legs.
“Lieutenant,” you breathe, wanting the need between your legs to leave but also loving how close he is.
Sure, you’re pissed off but my god. The fresh scent of him is intoxicating, and you’re doing everything in your power not to lean in and lick up the droplet of water running along the side of his throat.
“Why did you come here?” He waits a beat, and when you don’t reply, Simon continues. “To argue?” He lightly pinches your bottom chin, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip, dragging it down a bit. You open your mouth involuntarily and Simon makes at sound in his throat that makes your legs weak. “To see me?” He leans in like he’s about to kiss you. “To be alone?”
“I didn’t ask for this,” you whisper.
Simon has you caged in. Pinned. The only thing separating your body and his is that towel.
“Why do you think everyone left when they did?” Simon’s thumb drops away from your lips only to press at the hollow of your throat. “It’s not because you walked in.”
“Why?” you ask, as Simon’s thumb drags lowers over your top to the space between your breasts.
“Because you’re mine. And they know it.”
“You—what?” Without anywhere to go, you can’t escape his intense stare.
“I’m staking a claim.”
“Lieutenant—”
“Simon,” he growls. “Call me Simon.”
“Simon,” you say, and he groans.
His dog tags brush against your fingers. The metal is slightly cool and damp. You curl on finger around the chain, and tug, bringing Simon’s face down to yours. If he can tease and touch, you’re going to do the same. He can’t have all the power.
Your lips brush against his through the mask, and Simon’s eyelids begin to close, revealing his gentle submission in this moment. Deepening the movement, you kiss him as if there were no barrier. This time, he truly groans, and you’d give anything to remove the barriers between you and find out what it’s like to feel him deep inside.
Fisting his dog tags in your hand, you shove him away, but only enough that there is a fraction of distance.
“Fix the fucking reports, Simon.”
Instead of kissing him again, or even touching him, you unclench your fist, releasing the dog tags. Slipping under his arm, you exit through the door and out into the gym, leaving a trail of steam in your wake.
taglist:
@glassgulls @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth
@miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666
@unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @enfppuff
@cinnabeanz @berarenado @rogerrhqpsody @josephquinnschesthair @saoirse06
@therealbloom @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf
@lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien
@xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project
@burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605
@contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic
@suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior
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Text
Diabetic Steve who is at a Dairy Queen with Robin after he went with her to an all girl punk band that’s she’s been wanting to see for years. Steve had been feeling weird all day but he didn’t want to bail at the last second because he knew that Robin would just cancel everything to take care of Steve.
(Steve would do the same for her).
Steve plops down into a booth while Robin goes to order them food. He pulls out his pod and winces when he sees his glucose level.
64 and going down. Not a good sign.
Just to be sure he pricks his finger and holy shit, he’s actually at 43. It’s at that moment, when Steve is wiping his finger with the alcohol wipe, that his phone decides to loudly beep to alert him that, “hey you’re crashing pretty hard and fast— take care of it soon!!”
Steve is rifling through his bag while Robin is already trying to rush their orders.
“Shit,” Steve mumbles to himself. “I’m out of fucking juice.”
His hands start to shake and Robin begins to freak out. Steve is always so in control of his diabetes, she’s never seen him like this. So, Robin does what any other person would do and grabs the largest blizzard she has ever seen on the online orders tray and runs over to her best friend.
“Here! Have this, I’m going to try to get you some apple juice!”
Steve just nods his head and slowly spoons some of it into his mouth.
“This tastes like shit, by the way.”
“You’re welcome, dingus. Now shut up and eat.”
The worker behind the counter comes over and starts talking to Robin after she sits in front of Steve. Steve can’t really make anything out right now since he’s trying to focus on making his hands work. But, he thinks he hears the mention of calling 911 and an ambulance.
Time passes a little slower after that. Steve somehow manages to get down enough of the ice cream that he is slowly rising again.
57 after he pricked. Thank god.
It’s at that moment that Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin, walks in. He went to his best friend’s, Chrissy’s, show and needed a pick-me-up after helping her lug all of her equipment back into their vehicle.
He goes over to the online orders tray and it’s empty. He doesn’t really mind waiting. He walks over to the counter and sees that the worker is extremely frantic as she sorts some shit out.
“Hey,” he starts, his fingers tapping the fake granite counter top. “Just checking, I’m here to pick up an order for Edmundo and it’s not on the tray. Do you know when it will be ready?” He flashes an awkward smile and the worker just points to the table behind him.
“We’re working on it. Your nightmare of a blizzard was needed for something else. Give us five minutes.”
Eddie nods and slowly turned around, where he sees the most gorgeous man eating his blizzard. Reluctantly, he might add. The man has on a light pink t-shirt and brown corduroy pants, thick lensed glasses sliding down his nose. The woman across from him was clad in funky colors and had a dirty blonde bob. She was talking extremely fast and gesturing with her hands a bunch.
Chrissy would love her.
He walked over and tapped the man on the shoulder.
“How’s my blizzard?”
He slowly looks up and Eddie is met with honey brown eyes and beauty marks for days. A straight nose and an angular jawline. Jesus Christ.
The woman looks like she’s about to say something, but the guy beats her to it. “It tastes like if a unicorn threw up in my mouth, but it prevented me from passing out. So… thanks.” He smiles. “I’m Steve.”
Eddie needs to become Steve’s husband immediately.
“And I’m in love.” He pauses and then sees the look of glee on Steve’s face. “EDDIE. My name is Eddie.”
“It’s nice to meet you Eddie. Are you free tomorrow?”
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ohwowimlonley · 9 months
Note
more public sex with james please 🙏🙏
No :)
-
Everyone is piled onto one large L shaped sofa in James’ living room, despite there being plenty of other seats available. James says it’s because you get the best view of the TV from where you are, but you’re convinced it’s some kind of ploy.
Sirius is sat to the left of you, James to your right and Remus to his right. There’s a pink sherpa blanket over your thighs, one that you’d offeredto the boys on either side of you, but they’d both refused, with Sirius claiming that he doesn’t need a blanket to watch a horror movie, and James saying he’d let you know if he gets too cold.
In all honesty, you’re not at all interested in the movie playing on the TV screen, despite the fact that you were allowed to pick the movie, one you knew would scare the life out of Sirius and Remus.
James’ thigh has been pressed to yours for the past fifteen minutes, and even through the expensive matierial of the blanket you can feel the heat that he’s somehow always radiating. It’s distracting, really, the way he touches you just oh so casually, like there’s no intention behind it at all. But you know better. There’s no way that he just so happens to repeatedly brush his hand slightly too high when stroking your thigh over the top of the blanket.
Quickly, but as nonchalantly as possible, you throw the blanket over his lap too, and swing your right leg over his knees. He’s suggested doing this sort of thing before; touching eachother in front of the boys, and you’ve always been eager but too apprehensive to actually try it yet.
“You sure about this?” James knows what you want. Somehow, he can always just tell. His hand is already underneath your skirt, on the brink of prodding the waistband of your panties. His lips are on your earlobe, breath fanning all the way down your neck and giving you goosebumps, “we can just go upstairs, you know the boys won’t mind,”
You don’t trust your voice. If you try to speak now, the sound that will come out will be nowhere near appropriate, so you just nod, slow and meek, and keep your eyes flitting to the boys on either side of you.
Your subtleties last not even a minute. The second James’ calloused fingers make contact with your clit, you let out a low, warbling whinge. All three marauder boys look at eachother and snicker. You don’t care about them knowing any more, you just smush your cheek against your boyfriend’s muscled pec.
“Needy, s’she?” Sirius has that toothy grin on, one that all the marauders know to be his ‘thinking dirty thoughts’ smile, “Moony can sort that out, y’know?”
You prove his point only moments later by grinding yourself against James’ fingers. He slips them over your slit, up, down, up, down, and finally allows them to circle around your empty, aching hole. A simply unholy sound leaves your mouth when he slips a finger inside, all the way in until his palm brushes your clit.
“Let them have their fun, pads,” Remus tuts, stretching his gangly arm around you and James to flick him on the shoulder, “you’re havin’ fun with Prongsie, aren’t you pet?”
“Yeah,” it’s barely even understandable, the high pitched preen you let out, but the boys always get you. James leans down, nosing alond your jawline and letting his teeth drag on the topmost part of your neck. He takes out his finger, and replaces it with two of them.
“Gonna show the boys how pretty you sound when you cum, love?” His fingers speed up, tapping against your gummy walls and grinding against your sweet spot. His other hand reaches round and tugs experimentally on the blanket still covering your modesty. He only removes it for the boys to see when you nod frantically against his chest.
“Already? Not even been five minutes, sweetness,” Sirius teases, eyes widening when he sees your pussy contract at his words.
“I think she just likes the attention,” James curls his fingers, using his knees to spread your legs further apart to show you off to his friends, “s’that it, honey? Y’want the boys to watch you get all desperate for my fingers? Want one of them to have a turn next?”
You choke back a sob as you finally cum around James’ fingers, barely even hearing the boys’ gasps of wonder as you gush creamyness around the rim of your puffy hole.
“So,” Remus clears his throat, “my turn?”
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puck-luck · 3 months
Text
change-up | luke hughes
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warnings: unprotected p in v, creampie, oral f!receiving, multiple orgasms, squirting, dirty talk, praise praise praise, fingering & masturbation, references to prior & future hookups, hookup culture, TW: hinge😩, mentions of size difference pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: “because of how shy luke was when he first met reader, she thinks that he’s going to be inexperienced in bed and she‘ll to have to take the lead..but really lukey absolutely ruins her”, “could I please request luke Hughes smut where he loves being so much bigger than you”, “LOVEEDD the luke hughes one def write more dom stuff” wc: 4382
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“Do you, maybe, want to go back to mine?” Luke asks quietly, his lips a mere nudge against the shell of your ear. Even in the loud bar, his voice cuts through the chatter like a flash of light. 
You’d only met Luke earlier that night, a Hinge date gone right for you and your best friend. When Luke had invited you out to the bar he was at with some of his teammates, your best friend had jumped to point out that this could be your Kylie Kelce moment– you had to go and meet your Jason, even though Luke didn’t resemble the football player at all. Not that you minded.
You consider his words– Luke’s arm is thrown over your shoulder comfortably. His body is warm against yours. He’s been pretty shy all night, quiet enough that you felt like you had to control the conversation, but while Luke was in the bathroom, one of his buddies had revealed that that was normal for Luke. He was a quiet boy around new people– it didn’t mean he didn’t like you.
Clearly, it didn’t mean he didn’t like you. If he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t be inviting you back to his apartment. You’re not a fool. You know what that means. 
Regardless, you agree. “Sure,” you say with a smile. 
Luke returns the smile, leaning over you to gesture towards the bartender. He closes his tab, which houses both his and your drinks. You each had only had two drinks, so you’re feeling tipsy, but not drunk enough to stop what’s about to happen.
Once Luke has closed out, he guides you to his car and opens the door in a gentlemanly way for you. The ride to his home is silent save for the country music playing from the radio. Luke’s hand rests on your knee, a weight that has you squirming.
As shy as he is, you’ve come to realize that Luke’s love language is easily physical touch. He’s been sweet when he speaks with you, and he paid for all of your drinks, which kept words of affirmation and gift giving in the running for a while, but he’s kept a hand on you all night. 
He had seemed hesitant to do so, playing it safe by touching your arm or your knee or your shoulder. When you hadn’t shrugged him off, but rather presented him with a smile and a lean into his heat, Luke had become more sure with it.
You don’t know anything about his sex life or how experienced or inexperienced he is, but you expect that you’ll have to do the same thing in bed. You’ll have to reassure him that yes, you actually want to do this, and you actually like this. He’ll want to make sure he’s being good for you, because he’s the sweetest, but if you’re honest, you’re a little disappointed that you’ll have to take the lead.
One of the reasons why you had matched with Luke on Hinge, aside from how cute he was, was that he looked like an athlete. You’ve always been someone who likes to be overpowered a bit, liking someone bigger than you, and Luke looked like he could throw you around easily. You wanted him to do so, but that just doesn’t seem like it’s in the cards tonight, and you can accept that. You’ll hook up with someone else who will toss you around eventually– but Luke is too pretty and too kind to pass up.
When he pulls into the garage and parks, Luke rounds the car and opens your door for you. He leads you by the hand into his apartment. Your purse slips down your arm and, once inside the apartment, Luke takes it from you and hangs it on a hook near his front door. 
The apartment is still dark and you find yourself distracted trying to look at his furniture through the shadows. Giving up, you turn back to face Luke with a smile on your face. 
Shockingly, he’s already moving toward you. 
Luke pushes you against the wall, his hands on your hips. He’s kissing you, swallowing your noise of surprise. You’re frozen against him for just a moment, caught off guard by his insistent movements and confident grip on your sides. You melt into his touch when his presence finally registers, the catalyst being Luke’s fingers shifting to tug at the belt loops on your jeans. You place your forearms on his shoulders, crossing your wrists behind his head. 
Luke pulls your hips against his, pressing into you with his growing length. He’s leaning over you, causing your shoulders and head to rest against the wall while your back and hips arch into him. Smoothly, he steps forward and moves one of his hands so he’s bracketing your head. 
His tongue flexes when he enters your mouth, his muscle sliding against your own. You melt even further against him, moaning against his lips. You sag against the wall and Luke’s strong hands catch you, holding you upright. 
His fingers roam along your skin, eventually resting on the swell of your ass. He squeezes your cheeks harshly, grunting in appreciation as your bottom fills his large hands. Luke lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, sitting prettily with your clothed core barely brushing his cock. You grind down against him, and Luke’s mouth curves in a smile, lips still touching your own. 
“Eager,” he mumbles, sounding smug. 
“Happily surprised,” you correct, words muffled and interrupted by your kisses. “I thought you’d be shy.”
“Mm, not when we’re alone,” Luke hums, holding you with one hand around your waist. He starts to march down the dark hallway, pushing open his bedroom door with a bang. “Not when I’m so close to getting what I want.”
Luke gently lays you on his bed, hands splayed across your back. He’s still kissing you, adamant and consistent. Now, he’s got gravity on his side. His body is covering your own, trapping you against the soft mattress. A soft curse leaves your mouth, filling Luke’s. You’re sharing the air between yourselves, aching for the other person.
“What do you want?” You ask, one of your hands finding his curls and toying with the strands. 
Luke groans, parting from you to nuzzle against your neck as you continue to scratch against his scalp. He mouths over your neck messily, his tongue painting your skin like long brush strokes across a canvas. 
“Want to mark you up,” Luke mutters, nipping at your neck. He sucks the fleshy skin at the base of your neck between your clavicles. “I want you to remember this night.”
You moan, curling a hand along his collar and pulling at the t-shirt adorning his body in an entirely unnecessary way, in your opinion. You expose his collarbone, sharp and smooth all at once, but you don’t get to reap the rewards. 
Luke instead just chuckles and bats your hand away, capturing it in his own. He presses your wrist into the mattress above your head, exposing you further. “I want to make sure you think about me for weeks.” Luke feeds the promise to you with a swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip and a tiny nibble along the same path. “That every time you get yourself off, you think about how my fingers would be better than your own, or that my cock would fill you better than any toy you own, or any other boy you find.”
You knew that this would be a hook-up sort of thing, nothing more serious because Luke’s Hinge profile clearly stated he wasn’t looking for anything long term, but his possessive tone fuels a fire in you that has you whining and tugging his hair.
He shifts your hand to join the other, his fingers gripping both of your wrists while his other hand starts to explore your body. He dances over the curves of your breasts, along your elongated stomach. Your ribs are prominent and your stomach is flatter with your back against the bed– and Luke touches your skin like you’re precious to him. For a first night together, you already feel so seen. 
After caressing your skin, Luke pulls your shirt up and bundles the fabric near the base of your neck, revealing your little lacy bralette to him. He licks along the band, going from your neck down the V of your chest, then back up to your other shoulder. You watch his nose bump against your curves and your jaw slackens a bit with the possibilities that are running through your head.
You’d give anything to get his mouth on your clit, already swollen and pulsing with faux-lightning shocks from each of Luke’s touches. 
“Eat me out,” you say, a push in the right direction. Boys like when girls speak their mind, right?
Luke stills, his lips hovering above your sternum. You watch him smirk, then resume his kissing, sweet wet pecks marking the space where your breasts meet. “Lost your manners?” He finally asks, pulling away from your body to remove your shirt. He leaves it tangled along your wrist, wrapping it a few times and tucking the end into the band of your watch to secure the fabric in place.
You pout petulantly and Luke slides off the bed, kneeling between your legs that are bent over the side of the bed. He runs a finger along the seam of your jeans, taking extra care to rub his knuckle over your clothed entrance. You keen and he draws his hand up, resting it on your mound with his thumb stationary and heavy against your clit.
“Baby, I want to,” Luke assures you, his thumb lifting up and patting your clit a few times, causing you to jolt. “But I can’t until you ask me nicely.” He starts to rub your clothed clit, up and down in slow movements. He’s peering up at you with wide eyes, blinking like he’s innocent even though he’s driving you crazy.
“Please?” You try, your voice a little squeaky. 
A tiny smile on his face, Luke tilts his head at you. “You can do better than that,” he says, shifting forward to plant a kiss where his thumb rested. “Give it a second try.”
“Please eat me out, Luke,” you say, putting another pout on your face for good measure.
“Better,” Luke teases, trailing off. He reaches for your zipper, dragging it down. He inches the denim down your legs, revealing the panties that you’re practically soaking with your slick. They match your bralette– a purposeful decision that doesn’t do unnoticed by Luke. He thumbs over your clit again, then dips lower to flick over the wet spot staining the fabric. “Keep going. I want you to beg.”
He removes your pants with a kiss to the inside of your knee. His hands move to your thighs, feeling up the skin, keeping you warm in the chilled apartment. His breath passes over your core as he switches sides and you ache for him. It breaks the floodgates and you give him exactly what he wants, falling into that submissive role you’re able to fill so well.
“I need to feel your mouth on me, Luke. I know it’ll be so good– I know you’ll make me feel so good. Fuck, Luke, I want to come on your tongue. Taste me, please, please fuck me with your tongue.”
Luke’s crooked grin returns, his teeth peeking out from behind his lips and glinting at you. “Such dirty words for such a pretty girl,” he teases, but he hooks his fingers along the crotch of your panties and tugs them to the side, revealing your wet folds. He flexes his tongue, pointing it into a solid spear that he uses to spread your lower lips and locate your entrance. “Let’s see how fast I can make you come,” Luke murmurs before diving in and lathering your clit in a wet kiss. 
He pushes your legs apart, using his strong hands to pin your hips to the bed and keep them there. You want to wiggle out from under him and grind against his face, but Luke forces you to relinquish control with his size and strength.
It’s just what you wanted. Whining and tugging at the fabric around your wrists (easily removable, although you choose not to do so), you relax against the mattress and let Luke have his way with you.
He loves it, eating you out like he could do this for hours, like he could die happy between your leg. He’s moaning against you and massaging praise into your skin, all while licking every inch of your cunt. He fucks his tongue into you, he spits along your folds and watches the saliva drip down the crack of your behind before scooping it back up with his tongue and closing his lips around your clit. He leaves you wetter and wetter each time he pulls away, admiring his handiwork from a distance with a slack jaw before locating his next target and assaulting it with his tongue and gentle scrapes of his teeth. The first time he swept his bottom teeth against your clit, you flinched, but it quickly became a moan for more.
You’ve always been a glutton, addicted to toeing the line between pleasure and pain. 
It surprises you that Luke is the same way– although he would prefer to inflict the sensation than receive it. You align perfectly.
The sharp press of his tongue inside you draws a litany of noises from your mouth and it reinvigorates Luke’s efforts, with him flicking the muscle as far as he can within your cunt. He clutches at your skin, reaching under you to envelop both of your ass cheeks in his palms and lift your pussy to meet his face. There’s no room for reprieve, no space between you, and Luke is bullying your core with inconsistent nudges of his nose to your clit. 
“Luke, my clit,” you beg, chest heaving with how badly you yearn for your release. “Please.”
“You can come without that,” Luke replies, licking over the bundle once in consolation before returning to your hole, where you’re leaking fluids. Slick, saliva, and your impending orgasm all find their way onto Luke’s tongue, running down his chin and moistening the bed beneath you. You can feel the sheets growing wet beneath you, but you don’t care. Luke is making you feel even better than you imagined he would. 
You come over his tongue with a series of moans, bringing your still-tied hands down to his hair and tugging at his locks. Luke flicks over clit with quick kitten licks, only stopping when you’re crying out from oversensitivity
Luke kisses up your body, capturing your nipples between his lips over the lace fabric of your bralette, leaving the peaks pointed and cold when his mouth travels further north. 
He brings his lips to yours, ravishing the plush curves until they’re red and bruised. All the while, Luke mumbles praises to you until they blur together and you’re arching your back to feel his torso against yours again.
“You wanna go again?” Luke checks, nibbling on your bottom lip. “Ready to give me another one?”
“Yeah,” you breathe out, nodding and knocking your nose against his. He leans in and gives you a proper Eskimo kiss before pecking you one last time. 
Luke uses his strong hands to maneuver you the way he wants– chest pressed into the bed, ass pulled up and flush with his groin as he kneels behind you. He snaps the band of your bralette against your shoulderblade, then kneads the skin of your hips. 
“Close your eyes, babydoll,” Luke commands in a gentle voice. “I want you to feel this, just focus on feeling me.”
He rolls his hips against your behind, his cock still clothed but poking at the fabric like it’s trying to find its mark and sink into your heat. He pulls you against him and you wiggle your hips, obeying his command and closing your eyes. Your t-shirt fell from your wrists during the repositioning, so you clutch freely at the pillow under your head with one hand and hold your breast with the other. You squeeze the skin, moaning at the pleasure.
Luke brings your attention back to him with a sharp spank, making you yelp and clench down with both of your hands, scrambling for something to ground you. Luke chuckles and spanks you again, harder this time and on your other cheek. 
“Can’t wait to see this ass bounce,” Luke announces, smirking obviously even though you can’t see it. “I’m gonna make sure it’s pretty and pink while I fill your pussy up.”
If your eyes weren’t shut, they’d be rolling in your head at his words. You’re helpless, reduced to a moaning mess beneath Luke. 
You had no idea that the night would turn out like this, having fully expected to push him down and ride him until he came inside of you because he just couldn’t take the pleasure any longer. The tables have turned– now you’re the one leaking beneath him, your hole spread open from his thorough meal and positively waiting for him.
Luke disappears from behind you to remove his shorts, you assume. You keep your eyes closed and you hold your position, hoping your obedience will result in a reward. 
His voice washes over you, warming you like he’s still draped over your shoulder back at the bar. 
“Keep yourself full for me while I grab something, eh?” Luke asks, a prodding question that you’re scrambling to fulfill before he can even finish his sentence. 
Your middle two fingers slide into your hole, a wet squelch pushing a breath of a laugh out of Luke from his distance. You grind against the heel of your hand, spreading your knees for more leverage. 
“Good girl,” Luke coos, making his way back onto the bed. He’s behind you once again, naked, and you wish you could open your eyes and sneak a peek at his cock. You want to see how well endowed he is, feeling him brush against your thigh before a line of spit drips down your crack and crawls toward your hole. 
You fuck yourself on your fingers, hips rocking back. There are whimpers and whines filling the room, sounding needy and desperate for more, and it takes you a minute to realize that the words are muffled into the pillow, falling from your mouth. Biting down on the pillow to silence yourself, you curl your fingers inside yourself, hoping to reach your g-spot. In this position, you fall just short.
Luke’s index finger traces over the valley of your fingers, nearing your entrance. He’s silent, his moves calculated, and his index finger presses into you. He joins your middle and ring finger, his index finger reaching your insides in a way that has you keening. You can feel his fingertips against your nailbeds, then Luke wiggles his finger in further. 
You feel like you actually drip onto the bed when he pets over your g-spot, the spot that you couldn’t find on your own. Your knees are wide and your hips are slowly coming lower and lower. Your body is defaulting to the position in which you’ve gotten off so many times– hips flush against the bed, clit rubbing against your palm as you clench down on your own fingers. 
Luke uses his knee to bring your ass back up to its previous height, swatting at your flesh when you let out a complaint at the loss. Your clit is feeling neglected, practically calling out for pleasure, but the feeling of your fingers– and Luke’s– inside you is too good to take away.
So Luke does it for you. He removes his finger from your heat and digs under your knuckles, removing your digits from their wet home. The loss of contact comes with a devastating empty feeling and Luke soothes you with a cooed praise when you express your discontent. 
He solves the problem by slapping his thick cockhead against your open hole, resting it there until you’re squirming against him and pleas are leaving you with increasing intensity and higher pitch.
“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” Luke murmurs, pinching your skin as a reprimand. “You’ve been so good, listening to me so well. I’m going to reward you, don’t worry. Let me take care of you.”
He inches his cock inside your pussy achingly slow. You can feel every inch of him, every vein rubbing against your walls. You can feel the precum leaking from his slit and mixing with your own wetness. His tip finally nudges at your cervix, kissing the opening with another blurt of precum, and you ache for Luke to fill you up. You wish you were facing him so that he could drop a line of spit onto your tongue in a similar way.
When Luke starts to move, drawing himself out of you then forcing his way back in, all images disappear from your mind. His cock is all you can focus on– the warmth, how it’s pulsing inside of you, how it’s stretching your hole even though you had three fingers inside of it just minutes ago. 
Luke is consistent, fucking into you with hard and sure thrusts that leave you moaning. A puddle of drool is pooling on the pillow and your mouth is nearly constantly open, your tongue dry and breaths ragged. Your noises continue in their high-pitched tone, spurring Luke on. He pounds your pussy, ruining it for everyone else. 
Luke was right. You’d be thinking about him for weeks to come. 
He has you shrieking with each slap to your ass, the skin growing hot and becoming more red with each swat. You had no idea that you could be so loud in bed– you’ve normally got a handle on yourself. Normally, you’re not so wet that each thrust results in a pornographic sound of skin meeting skin. 
Luke is in a league all of his own.
“So tight,” he groans. “‘M gonna come, baby.”
“Come in me,” you beg. “Fuck, Luke, come in me.”
“I will,” he promises. “I want you to come first.”
Your abdomen is tight, burning with the need to release. You feel like you could explode and the thought pops into your head– you’d never been able to before, not with another man nor when fucking yourself, but you bet you could squirt now.
“Can I touch?” You ask, desperate. “Please, wanna touch my clit. Wanna come for you. Wanna be good. Please, Luke, tell me I can.”
“Go on,” he encourages. “Let me feel you.”
It’s like an out of body experience. You have control of your hands, but your fingers feel foreign as they find your clit and start to rub frantic circles over the bundle. Your chest is snug against the bedsheets. You spread your legs even further, needing the space to keep yourself open and feel even wider. Luke notices and loops a hand under your thigh, lifting the leg and holding it up. He’s able to keep you balanced, able to keep you steady as your fingers slide over your dripping cunt.
His grunts and moans spur you on, your back arching. His tip finds your g-spot and abuses it, knocking the air out of you with each bump.
“Luke,” you whine, his name elongated on your tongue.
“I’m here, baby, let go.”
He’s reassuring and calm, so sure behind you and panting. He drapes himself over your back, kissing behind your ear. 
It’s the smooth brush of his lips that sends you over the edge. Your vision, already black, turns into a staticky void that you fall down like you’re skydiving. 
Luke is your parachute, fucking you through the spray of your orgasm and releasing his own seed inside of you. He fills you up with his warmth, fucking you until you’re sagging on the bed and breathing hard, barely able to move. Luke drags his cock out of your cunt and brings some of his come with it, although he promptly plugs you with his fingers and a kiss once he’s turned you over onto your back. 
His fingers are mostly still inside you, slowly pumping in and out in a way that isn’t meant to derive pleasure. He simply wants to feel you. His kisses are soft and sweet, soothing you and bringing you back down to Earth. 
Eventually, you regain control of your limbs. You shift one of your legs over Luke’s hips and cuddle close to him, rolling your hips against his finger. Your tongue slides against his, tasting your first orgasm on his lips. 
The moment dies slowly. You’re both tired, ready to sleep. Luke draws his fingers out of your entrance, pecking your lips one last time. 
“Go pee, baby,” he tells you. “You’re not getting a UTI on my account. I’ll get some PJs for you while you’re gone, then we can take a shower in the morning after I serve you some breakfast in bed.”
“Mmm,” you hum, beaming. You lean up to kiss Luke again. “How’d you get so good at aftercare? Lots of experience?”
“Just want to make sure you’re satisfied,” Luke replies, fondly smiling at you when you roll away and patter towards his ensuite bathroom. He laughs a little as you cringe, the mixture of come seeping out of your hole and dripping down your thighs.
“How about I take a quick shower now and we’ll discuss that breakfast in bed when I’m done?” You tease, already pulling back his shower curtain and turning the nozzles to find your optimum heat. 
“Don’t pee in my shower,” Luke calls, pushing the covers off the bed and gathering the wet sheets to throw in the wash. He’ll put new sheets on the bed while you’re cleaning yourself.
“I’m not!” You deny, affronted. “How dare you assume such a thing?”
The last thing you hear before stepping into Luke’s shower is his cheeky, throaty laugh. You fail to bite back the smile that comes with it.
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eddiesxangel · 2 months
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Angel or Devil? | E.M x Reader
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Anonymous asked: Could i request a fic where reader comes home pissed off and angry fucks eddie and hes hooked on it so he keeps trying to annoy her or asks her how work was ect to get her riled up so she they can fuck each others brains out, her dirty talk gets filthy when shes mad and eddie realizes he likes it mean
wc: 2.7k
cw: f!reader/mean!reader, Sub/switch Eddie, dirty talk, sex toys, slight choking, female masturbation, pussy eating, p in v, cream pie. Slightly proofread… so if you see a spelling error no you didn’t… (ง •̀_•́)ง
Eddie’s head snapped up when the sound of the front door slamming shook him out of focus. You must have had a bad day because you never slam things.
Timidly, Eddie put his guitar down and walked out of the bedroom into your living room to see you slam your purse on the floor; you don’t bother to unzip your boots; you rip them off your feet and whip off your drenched coat. That’s also when he sees the crazed look in your eyes behind your soaked hair sticking to your face. Today was not your day.
“Sunshine-“
“Don’t,” you point a finger up at him; you don’t want to hear a word from your boyfriend right now.
“But-“
“No. Shut up.” You make your way to the bedroom to wash your rain-soaked clothes.
Eddie followed you apprehensively. His gut told him to give you space, but his heart needed to ensure his sunshine was okay.
“Eddie.” You huffed. He had followed you.
He wasn’t listening to you. That’s all you wanted was something to listen to you. Nobody had taken the time to hear you out at work, and to make matters worse, the barista messed up your order, causing you to be late for your team meeting. Then, to top it off, you missed your bus. Thinking that a walk might help clear your head, you set off, only to be interrupted by the ominous crack of thunder in the sky. Instead of tears, you felt a surge of rage building inside you. All you desired was some sense of control in a day that seemed spiralling out of your grasp.
“Baby,” Eddie cooed again, stocking the back of your soaked hair.
You huffed in annoyance again. He wasn’t listening, so you decided to push him down in the bed.
“Woah, baby, I’m sorry-“
You cut him off as you climbed on top of him and shut him up with a kiss. Maybe now you could be in control.
With eyes wide, Eddie didn’t know what to do, but as you gripped at his clothes, signalling to get naked, he soon realized.
Eddie didn’t understand where this came from, but who was he to question? His lady needs to take out her frustration on him and who was he to deny her? He was just but a humble servant.
“You’re taking too long,” you groan, sitting up and taking off your soaked clothes.
“It’s okay, baby, I got you. Don’t worry, Teddy will make it better.”
“God, do you always talk this much? Shut up and eat my pussy”
Eddie was stunned. His eyes were wide, yet your words went straight to his cock. You never spoke to him this way before, but he liked it. He liked you a little mean.
“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes, and you give him the biggest eye roll Eddie couldn’t miss; he moaned as he connected his lips with your pussy.
With a hand gripped tightly in his hair, he was determined to make you cum asap. He had to service his girl; you demanded it. It was the sexiest thing Eddie had ever been witness to… not that you weren’t sexy every other time, but something had been unlocked in Eddie’s brain, and he didn’t want to give it up.
A feral groan leaves your throat, and Eddie can’t help but moan once again into your pussy, knowing it drives you crazy.
Your hips are grinding into his face. Usually, he would have you pinned down, but having you use him solely for your pleasure was getting Eddie off just as much.
Within minutes, you were falling apart on Eddie’s tongue and fingers. Your body shook beneath him, and you finally felt some relief.
“There you go, baby. That's it, let it go.”
With a deep sigh, you get up and walk to the bathroom without a word.
Eddie was stunned. You used him …and he liked it.
When you got out of the shower, it was like you were a different person, like the rage demon was fucked right out of you, and you had forgotten how angry you were and also how you had just left Eddie to take care of himself.
You came out, giving Eddie a big hug and a kiss like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. You told him about your day while he cooked you dinner and spent the evening snuggling on the couch.
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It’s been two weeks since you stormed home that evening, and Eddie was doing everything in his power to get you to retake control, but you were not biting.
He got excited when you would make a move first, but then you fell into old habits, and he would be the one to take charge. So Eddie was doing everything in his power to piss you off.
He didn’t want to, but he needed to trigger that inner dominatrix that was hidden deep inside.
Lately, you couldn't figure out what had come over Eddie, but his behavior was really starting to bother you. He seemed to be constantly leaving the cupboard doors wide open, choosing to immerse himself in video games instead of addressing household chores. Despite promising to tidy up, he never followed through. His socks and underwear were strewn across our shared bedroom floor, and on top of everything, he seemed to be avoiding any meaningful conversation during dinner.
“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” You glare at him, as he doesn’t even signal that he heard you.
You've had enough of this immature behavior. You don’t understand why you're being ignored, but you've reached your limit.
“Eddie!” You slam your fork down on the table, and finally, he looks at you.
You quickly stand up, and the chair screeches against the parquet flooring. Eddie’s big brown eyes grow wider and darker as you approach his side of the table.
This was it, he thought; he’d cracked the code.
“What is your problem?” Your hands were on your hips. He thought you looked so cute when you tried being all authoritative.
“Dont know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” Eddie shrugged nonchalantly.
“Excuse me?”
“You have something to say, baby? Come on, tell me.” His tone was condescending and taunting.
“Eddie, I’m serious.”
“So. Am. I.” He stands, getting closer with each word. He towers over you, but you don’t care; you’re too pissed off to be intimidated.
“What is your problem!” You scream.
“I don’t have a problem, sweet thing.” He shrugs, his voice cool as a cucumber.
This only pissed you off further. He was so good at pushing your buttons, and you were falling for it unknowingly.
Your face was scrunched up and he thought it was the cutest thing he couldn’t help but hide a smirk and you caught it.
“You want to try that again?” you ask. Your faces were centimetres apart, and he could smell the fire brooding within you.
Hook, line, and sinker.
God, you were infuriated with him, but you never wanted him more badly than right now. You act on instinct and flung yourself at him. Wrapping your arms around him and kissing him harshly, so much so your lips would be bruised by the time you’re done with him.
“There she is”
“Shut up.” Your hands are all over one another, and Eddie is reeling from your actions. Finally, his little minx had come out to play.
You forced your way over to the living room, not ever breaking the kiss until you pushed Eddie off of you and down onto sofa.
“Tell what you want; I’m yours to use.” he smiles, and you can see the mischief in his eyes.
“Is that what this was all about?” you scan his body, his hard cock prominent in his sweatpants. “You like it when I’m mean?” You’re annoyed still but also turned on. Your Eddie likes it when you’re in control.
A wave of excitement washes through you at the realization that all of this was actually to get your attention.
“You like when I dom you, Teddy? Is that it?” Your voice sickly sweet as you run your hands up his thighs until you reach the crease of his hips but don’t go any further, only teasing him more.
“Yes,” he nodded his head rapidly.
A rush of arousal floods your panties.
“Good boy.”
Eddie throws his head back and reaches to palm his cock, but you swat his hand away.
“No,” you stay stern. “This is my cock”
Eddie’s head snapped back up, and you could see in his eyes that he liked your words.
“Who’s cock does this belong to?” You ask as your hand slinks down into his pants, gripping at the base.
“Me.” He smirks. He wants you to be meaner.
“Okay,” you say, standing up and walking away.
“Okay?” Eddie is dumbfounded as you leave him alone on the couch. It takes a few seconds before he gets up to follow you into the bedroom, where he sees you’re pulling out your dildo.
“What are you doing?” He asks, disappointed that you left him.
“Since you don’t think I own your cock, I’m going to use the one I bought to get me off instead.” You shrug before stripping down fully and spreading your legs open to play with yourself in front of Eddie.
“Fuuuuuuuuck, baby.” Eddie came crawling, but you stopped him with an outreached foot to his forehead.
“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked with a raised brow.
“Oh-I uh-“
“oh, you uh,” mocked back, and Eddie didn’t think he could get any harder.
“You are going to sit back over there and watch only, like a good little boy. If you touch yourself, I stop.”
“Baby! What? No, that’s so mean,” He pouts.
“You wanted to mean, baby; you’re getting mean.”
Eddie bit his fist and sat back obediently; never in his wildest dreams did he think you would be so confident in this newfound role.
You spread open your legs and work your fingers through your slick folds, not breaking eye contact. You can’t help but smirk when you bring the dildo to your lips, putting on a show by sucking and drowning the head with your saliva, showing exactly what you would have done to Eddie if he had complied earlier.
You hear a throaty moan from Eddie as you watch his face scrunch and his fists tighten into balls as if he were in physical pain from watching you. The way you pop the toy off your lips and slowly drag it down to your weeping hole had Eddie’s cock twitched.
You finally break eye contact when you watch yourself insert the dilo into your wet pussy before you let your head fall back into the pillow.
“Oh yes!” your hips gyrate into your thursts as you put in a show for Eddie.
You exaggerate, for Eddie’s sake. Of course, it would never feel as good as him, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“You evil woman”
You snap your eyes back to Eddie and smirk.
“Fuck it feels so good!” “God it’s just so big” “yes yes yes!”
Moan after moan of pleasure leaves your lips as your free hand explores your breast, squeezing it and playing with your nipple before moving down to your clit.
It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to run through your body; having Eddie watch you, at your mercy, was enough to fuel the orgasm, let alone the thick, veiny pink dildo that was spreading you wide open, hitting you just right with each pump.
Your pussy clamps down onto the dildo that’s deep inside of you, cuming all over it as you shake with pleasure. You don’t even hear Eddie moan as he bites his fist, trying so hard to behave and listen to your orders.
Your cum floods out of you as you slowly pull it out with a pop.
“Come here and clean it up,” You demand, and Eddie dives head first to your pussy, but you quickly close your legs, and Eddie pouts those beautiful full pink lips at you.
“This first,” You smirk, handing him the dildo you just used that’s coated in your cum.
Eddie’s eyes go wide in shock, but he takes the toy and places it in his mouth. His eyes roll back at the taste of you, and he licks and deep-throats it.
The thrill of watching Eddie place the used dildo in his mouth as he sucks it off only makes your pussy flood once again. Your hands play with your nipples as you slowly open your legs for him.
The second Eddie sees your knees parting, he tosses the dildo to the floor, and before you can command anything, his lips attach to your pussy in an instant.
“That’s right, you’re just a little cum slut aren’t you?” you can’t believe the words are leaving your lips, and neither can Eddie, but he ruts his hips against the mattress as the filthy words fill the room.
“I see you, baby. Can’t even wait five minutes without needing to pay attention to your cock” You try not to stutter as Eddie works his tongue inside your tight hole, cleaning up the remnants of cum. You watch as Eddie pops his ass up and down as he tries to get himself off, but you can’t have that, not yet.
“Stop,” You command, and Eddie doesn’t know what action you’re referring to, so he stops everything completely.
He looks up at you with those big doe eyes, mouth agape and shiny with your cum, and you almost crack a smile, but you keep your composure.
You shuffle to your knees and instruct Eddie to lie down in place of where you just were and lean over him.
“Now, baby, I’m going to ask you again. Who’s cock is this?” You slowly drag a single digit, hardly touching the soft skin of his shaft, from the base to tip and back down again. His cock was more than ready, he was so thick and long. The tip was red, and was leaking out so much precum. If you didn’t know any better, you maybe would have thought he had come already.
“Yours” He doesn’t hesitate; he needs to cum; he needs to feel your pussy around him.
“Good boy,” you say, taking your finger away so you can hook a leg over his hip and straddle him.
“I think I’ve learned my lesson.” Eddie swallows.
“Oh, is that right?” your hand slowly makes its way up Eddie’s thick throat and lands at the base of his jaw. You squeeze it ever so gently at first but slowly tighten your grip as you sink down onto his cock.
Your small hand doesn’t do anything to hurt Eddie, but the feeling of it there had Eddie pushing his hips up into you roughly.
You let out a maon of pleaser as he hits your G-spot and doesn’t stop. Thrust after thrust, Eddie has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, and he will not stop until he has his way with you.
“Think you’re in control now, baby? Got you so cock drunk you can’t even speak.”
No longer did you care about being in control. Eddie was making you see stars.
“Don’t think your little toy had you feeling this good, huh?” he gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into your hips so hard you know there will be a bunch of tiny bruises in the morning.
“Ohhhhh, Teddy!,” You scream as your second orgasm rips through you without warming. Eddie’s hips jackhammer up into you as you ride out your orgasm, and Eddie chases his. He flips you over and pushes your legs up into your chest so he can watch himself disappear into your tight little cunt.
“Fucking made f’me.” his hips snap once, twice, three times more until he spills himself inside of you.
You feel Eddie’s weight collapse on you, his heavy body limp.
“Holy shit” You breathe in the revelation of what just happened. “Was that our best sex ever, or am I dreaming?” You whisper.
“I think you broke me, baby,” Eddie moans as he doesn’t want to leave your warm wet pussy.
“That confirms it, best sex ever.” You raise his hand so you can give him a high five before his limp arm falls back down on the bed.
You can’t help but giggle, and Eddie shoots out of you, complaining it’s too sensitive to squeeze his cock anymore.
“Teddy?”
“mhm?”
“Next time you want me to take charge, just ask. I’m not keeping a messy home because you wanna get freaky.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes before he rolls your body into his so you can fall asleep in his arms.
Tagging some moots who might be interested 🫣: @xxbimbobunnyxx @bimbotrashcan @usergeta @loserboysandlithium
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bakugoushotwife · 9 months
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a/n: omg heyyy i make my grand return with my humble offering to @ohkento 's reddit theme collab!! i also have a piece for shouto coming up next, but here is the first one!! i took a while off after kinktober so if this is bad....lie to me!
warnings: dark content. nsfw. no minors. yandere theme gojo, no physical harm to reader, baby trapping, threats (not to reader), female reader, breeding, pentration, oral (fem!receiving), reader is kinda dumb lol.
summary: STORYTIME: I (28M) CAN'T STOP BREEDING MY GIRL BEST FRIEND (28F)!! it's a serious problem...i'm really reaching my breaking point here. i've been in love with this chick since high school and she keeps chasing other guys...but fucking me when the dates go wrong, help!
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it’s been his dirty little secret since his years at tokyo tech. you’ve always been a looker, never were you short on attention from lesser men that aren’t worth your time—and yes, that includes when geto crushed on you all through the second year of school. but they never were quite what you were looking for, and every night of passion or attempt at a meaningful connection always ended the same—dialing up your closest confidant satoru to come console you and stuff your cunt full and wipe your tears–to make it better, like best friends do. 
satoru was all too aware of your little predicament, because he had struggled with the same issues–except he realized his fate years ago and was determined to have it. you are his and his alone, no matter how many scrubs that try to take you from him. if only you would open your eyes. you were obviously hopelessly in love with him, of course—that’s why no one could compare! and that’s why you always turned your teary eyes and pretty pussy to him after yet another date gone wrong. he knew he was the only cure, and he’s given up on hoping you’d see the truth for yourself. 
he tried to play the patience card, licking your tears off your face as he pounds his love into you, telling you that you’re worth so much more than those guys you keep letting break your heart. he tried being the nice guy that holds you after yet another promising prospect never texts you back–buying you dinner and bouncing you on his cock until you were crying from pleasure instead of heartbreak. each time, he buried his load in your womb until it was spilling out around him—hoping to give you no other choice but to pack your bags and move onto his estate to further the gojo clan with the very man at the head of it, but it seems your ovaries were just as stubborn as you are. he didn’t know how much more of this he could stomach—just waiting to be your knight in shining armor while laying in bed at night, staring at the pictures of you, both lewd and cute alike while wondering just how long it would take to have you laying beside him in his bed instead of the pixels on his phone screen. 
he’s had enough. it’s clear his plan isn’t working as designed. you must be on birth control—which is both irritating yet complimentary to him. of course you wouldn’t let these bums knock you up. is it insulting that this applies to his seed too? of course, but then again the whole dynamic was rather insulting wasn’t it? fucking other men and crying to him about it when they aren’t the perfect man for you. no shit—no man will ever know you like he does. none of them could ever compete with the life he could give you if you would just face the music. he doesn’t get it either. why bother? why look elsewhere? obviously you’re attracted to each other—so why won’t you make the next natural jump and stop it with the drama-packed weekly bachelorette episodes?
that’s okay. it’s really fine. satoru is such a good friend that he’ll help you, like he always does. he would simply help you to the conclusion that he wants and then everything can proceed according to plan! it shouldn’t be too difficult anyway, you’ll be calling any moment now! you had a date with yet another sure disappointment that gojo knows will desert you as soon as the date is finished. he’ll be dry and boring after the promising conversations you had in the days leading up to the date—you’ll be confused yet again—and the guy won’t pay either, set for split-bill city. gojo knows all of this because he’s ensured that’s what happens, of course! and this is the thirty-sixth man he’s had to pay off to show up to the date and forget about you. a price he’s more than willing to pay no matter how high, though it’s definitely added up over the years. and you know what—now that he thinks of it, none of them deserve you because their weak nature and corrupt morals. he’s been proven right every time, each one of these bottom feeders would take the money no questions asked—maybe that was due to his threats of horrific death if they so much as answered a text message from you again, but who could be sure? 
this one was especially easy to pay off, too. he didn’t even think twice about taking the money. it almost makes gojo mad. he clearly wasn’t heartbroken to walk away from you, and god you deserved so much better. you deserve a man that is willing to pay off any and every suitor that comes into your life just to make you his. you deserve a man so crazy about you he can hardly recognize himself. you deserve…well, him. he’s devoted himself to you for over a decade and it’s time for that to pay off.
your unique ringtone gets him out of his own head to answer, and of course, you’re crying and asking him to come over. pretty girls like you never learn, huh? that’s all forgiven though, as he is a teacher and it’s his passion to help you understand. 
“of course sugar. i’ll be right over. mhm–don’t mention it. that’s what friends are for.” he hums to you over his end of the phone, picking up his car keys to make it to you in record time. you’re your same beautiful self as you answer the door and welcome him inside, though he can see the tear tracks staining your face. it makes him pout a little at the sight no matter how used to it he is. he hates that you let these cretins upset you like this. 
“hey baby.” he pouts sympathetically with you, ducking under your arm to gaze around your familiar living room for any signs of a man he hadn’t yet heard about. he exhales a deep sigh when he finds none. he’s got his hands in his pockets, lips tightened in a knowing grimace. “so what was it this time? no—let me guess: split the bill and then he let you walk home in this weather?” 
you close the door after he’s entered with a heavy sigh. your bleary eyes fix on your hand still clasped around the doorknob, “yeah.” you tug your lip between your teeth and turn to face him. you didn’t have to answer him, for he already knew. it was borderline routine at this point and you were already embarrassed enough. you draw your arms around yourself to feel your own warmth, shaking your head. what was wrong with you? you used to be pined after, wanted—and now you couldn’t even get non-sorcerers to call you back. you haven’t had a second date in years, nor had an orgasm that wasn’t satoru’s handiwork. but even he didn’t want you permanently. you were a good friend and an even better fuck, that’s all. you knew it was pointless to yearn for him, sure he felt nothing other than his ever-present sense of duty and loyalty every-time he took your pain away–no matter the lies that poured out of his saccharine lips to do so. your sad eyes fix on his face, letting your plump bottom lip bounce out from your teeth’s trap. he smirks softly, cock rising because it knows exactly what that look means. 
but unfortunately for you, he won’t just hold you in his arms and promise that you’re worth so much more than you let yourself believe. tonight, he’s going to take what’s rightfully his—and his plan is already working beautifully. you never look away as you walk from the door to him, bracing your tiny and ineffectual hands on his chest. “what’s wrong with me, sato?” you pout, batting your long lashes up at him. his heart could stop just from that look alone. the comfort of his large hands covering yours soothes you already, making the tension drop from your shoulders. 
“you’re naive.” he answers, eyes as bright as ever as they glow like fireflies in your living room. if you were going just by the expression on his face, you’d think he said something kind or even funny, the way he grins softly and blinks his white lashes down at you in wait of your reply. you’re sure you misheard—every other time you asked this question he always said, “maybe you’re just too pretty, huh? ever thought of that, sugarplum?” 
“huh?” you tilt your head to one side, watching his expression shift to amusement. “naive? wh-what do you mean by that?” 
“well, if you weren’t so naive, you’d know, now wouldn’t you?” he pokes his tongue between his teeth, tucking his hands behind his back while you still lean helplessly against him. he likes feeling the weight of your body on his, and he’ll like it even more when he knows it’s a permanent thing. “you’re on birth control.” he states, and your confusion sets in even deeper. your brows furrow, but you nod. 
“yeah? what about that makes me naive?” you posit, used to his antics for the most part. you’ve been around him far too long to mistake his bluntness as an attack to you, even if it stings just a touch. though you did ask, and you have used him as your sexual relief and shoulder to cry on for years now. maybe he’s fed up with lying to save your feelings. 
he looks around for a second, humming. “where is it?” 
you also know better than to question him. if he’s asking you these questions it has to be for a reason—and you don’t have to understand him in the moment. just do what you’ve always done and trust him, support him on and off the battlefield–and never hesitate. it could be the difference between life and death. you learned that on missions together years ago. 
“in my nightstand?” you tilt your head to the other side. he has to admit your astonishment is adorable. he smiles down at you, cupping your cheek lightly. his fingers are so long that his thumb rests on the corner of your lips, fingertips brushing back your hair. 
“go get it for me.” he says as if he asked you to pass him the remote. you narrow your eyes to really study him—and then you see it. the teeming rage, the simmering crazy behind his eyes as they look at you. he is the most powerful man in the world, even if you were scared, there was nothing you could do but obey. but you trust him. and you nod. you turn to pad off to your bedroom and the clicks of his expensive boots follow. you’re used to the butterflies tickling your stomach as you lead him to bed, but you know something’s different this time. you feel like you’ll puke butterflies. but nonetheless, you pull the drawer of your nightstand open and fetch the little foil pack out of it, only a few pills missing from this month’s prescription. you turn to face him with it, mind racing on what he could possibly be doing. knowing him, he’s toying with you–trying to make you as nervous as possible and all this worrying is for no good reason. 
he sits at the edge of your bed, seemingly watching you with interest. he’s happy that you’re humoring him, that’s for sure. not even the faintest hint of protest. maybe you’re not as naive as he thought. in fact, your effortless obedience has his the crotch of his loose hakama’s tightening quickly. your heart jumps in your throat at the sight of him as it usually does—satoru gojo is far too beautiful to be in your house, supposedly telling you why you couldn’t keep a man. the black compression shirt was nearly criminal when it was wrapped around his perfect body. 
“good girl. now flush ‘em down the toilet for me.” he beams, blinding white teeth baring to smile at you. it was a simple request, really. he needed you to stop taking that poison and to stop entertaining the idea of other men. 
“why?” you swallow harshly, voicing your underlying suspicion. 
“don’t you trust me, baby?” he replies with a quickness, tilting his head to mirror yours. he’s doing well to keep himself together–you don’t understand his love for you yet, but he’ll take care of that. he’s a teacher, remember? “that stuff’s not good for you.” 
you hum. the side effects have been brutal, but you’re hardly in the spot for a baby. you can’t even get a boyfriend, much less a baby daddy. “yeah…i know. sucks taking it. guess i could get an iud or something instead.” you think aloud, voice becoming distant as you turn your back to him and dump your pills in the bathroom attached to your small room. you really undersell yourself. you could have been his bride eight years or so ago and been living large. but he’s going to fix it now. his jaw clenches at that declaration, and you feel him watching you the entire time—the doorway a straight shot from the spot he sat in on your bed. 
“no.” he says simply, the lightheartedness gone abruptly. it sends a shiver down your spine, makes your brain alert to the changes within him as he stands and cages you into the bathroom, broad arms stretching to block off the doorway. 
no? he doesn’t want you to protect yourself in any way? that seems a little ridiculous, but maybe he had a good reason. “satoru…i can’t get pregnant right now.” 
“why not?” he asks, looking over your little body nearly trembling from the darkness of his cursed energy growing more oppressive, nearly sucking the air out of the room. your heart pounds, more confused than you were at the start. 
“because i’m…single?” you try carefully, not sure exactly what you were dealing with here. satoru has always been so happy-go-lucky, even when he shouldn’t be. you remember begging him to talk out his stress so that he didn’t explode right after suguru left. so this anger you see set in his features shocks you, his bright and clear sky-colored eyes are clouded and murky, more cerulean than you’ve seen before. his brow is set and you can see the muscles twitching in his jaw. but he’s still smiling, and that for whatever reason is still real. 
“there’s that naivety again, princess.” he licks his teeth, shifting his weight from foot to foot. you look like a deer in the headlights, and he’s giddy at the rush that gives him. you’re finally in his grasp. “you’ve never been single. not since hmmm let’s see, march fifteenth, 2006.” he grins at you–”which makes all this dating real offensive, sweetheart.” 
you want to laugh, but decide against it considering his unpredictability. you shake your head instead, backing yourself to the wall. “what on earth are you talking about? we’re friends–”
“friends that fuck!” he laughs a strained snicker, straightening his posture. “and make sweet hot love, of course. friends that cuddle on the couch and have sleepovers. come on. we’re both adults, don’t insult me. you love me! which is great, because i love you too. i love you so much i’ve made sure that no one could steal you from me.” 
your brows must reach your hairline at that. “stop, satoru. don’t say that! you can’t mean it–fuck, you’re supposed to be married to a kamo or zen’in girl so you can keep making powerful gojo’s right? isn’t that what you always said in school?” 
“you’d give me powerful gojo’s.” he smirks, breaking the barrier of the bathroom’s threshold by stepping closer to you, leaning down to be on face level. “i was only trying to make you jealous sugar! just like this whole stunt you’ve been pullin’, dating around to try to find someone that makes you feel like i do? tch, hahahaha—it’s impossible!! just stop it, be mine and be happy like you should be.” he grasps your chin with a surprising gentleness given his unhinged and maniacal laughter, smiling down at you with something you recognize as his power-trip going off the rails—but. 
but you’d be lying if you said you were scared. he’s declaring his love for you in the most profound way possible, however crazy it–and he–may be. and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t absolutely see right through you. he has the six eyes after all, you should have known he knew what you were trying to do. you were trying to numb the pain of never being his…but you were actually manufacturing that whole scenario. you’re the only girl he’s ever seen, and it’s clear from the desperation mixed in with the insanity—he needs you. 
you reach back and flush the toilet, letting the little white pills circle the bowl and disappear entirely. satoru gojo has always been insane. you’ve seen it firsthand on many missions and battles against curses and sorcerers alike. it just surprised you to see him turn that look upon you–but now you know it was just to get your attention. 
though you don’t doubt what he’s capable of, you have no intention of pushing him to find out.
his eyes go from crazy to ravenous in seconds. you’ve accepted his proposal with hardly any effort and he intends to show you the difference between his sweet hookups and his passionate need to claim the woman of his dreams. 
“so you…scared off all those guys?” you ask, raising a brow as your face still rests in his clutches. he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, nodding vigorously. 
“sure did, princess. i was trying to let you figure it out on your own…” he sighs, brushing your hair back behind your ears as his eyes scan over your body again. he needs to feel you. “but you’re not a quick learner, hence why i’m on plan b.” he winks, scooping you over his shoulder moments later. he puts you on your bed, the short walk made shorter by his teleportation. he’s just too impatient, brain swelling with the flashing images of you in traditional wedding attire and round with his heir. it all feels within reach now, and he has to try it out now. “gonna show you how bad i love you–you’ll never go anywhere else.” he mutters, lanky frame swallowing up your body, hips pinning yours to the bed beneath you. “you’re gonna give me a gojo and you’re gonna look so fucking good doing it.” he mutters, lips attaching to your neck reminiscent of the way they have a million times. though this time, there’s intention behind it—or well. this time you’re aware of the intention behind it. 
in all your times together, his dirty talk has been contained to praising your body and how good you feel to him. his incantations to knock you up has your heart beating funny and wetness pooling between your legs. you make a soft gasp sound for him, elongating your neck to let him leave real marks of possession where you’ve previously resisted. your body writhes and twists under his as his teeth knick and nip bruises into your skin. he’d spell his own name with them if he could, even a ring and a baby wasn’t enough in his eyes. he needs the world to know you’re his, that you’ll always be by his side, that you were born to be his. 
“that pesky birth control’s gonna have to wear off though–so we have time to get married before you get pregnant–if that matters to you.” he moans at the idea, hands sliding under your top to push it over your head. his mouth moves to suck the swells of your tits once they’re exposed to him, humming out his satisfaction at the warm skin. your head digs back into the mattress—mind absolutely drunk on his affection and devotion. it’s all you’ve ever wanted and now it’s right here, and from the man you’ve always wished you could have—how could you ever deny him again? 
your hands pull at the fabric on his back, hips bucking up for a source of friction. he breaks away from marking up your chest to bare his to you, throwing his t-shirt into some corner of your room to be forgotten about until tomorrow. this wouldn’t be your room much longer anyway–you’ll be moved into the estate within the next two days, he wouldn’t be able to live without you now. then he’s pushing you up towards the headboard, ripping off your lounge shorts to reveal those cute panties he knows you wear when you’re trying to impress him. color him fucking thrilled at your puffy pussy lips indenting the fabric around them, making him groan at the sight. he thumbs at your clit through the cotton, sparkling eyes flickering between the growing wet spot in your panties and the adorable scrunches of your nose and the pinch of your brow from the pleasure he’s dishing out before he’s even really touching you. you’re so cute he can’t pace himself, needing to consecrate your importance to him in the best way he knows how. 
you help him get you out of your underwear, shamelessly spreading for him after hundreds of rendezvous—you’ve lost your shyness and he loves it, loves seeing your neediness for him in the glaze of your pretty doe eyes and the way you swing your hips around to beg for his attention. “tell me you love me.” he hums, nosing apart your pussy lips. his cock throbs at the scent, and you feel goosebumps break out across your skin at his command. 
“you’re the one for me, sato. i love you.” you whisper so intimately he can feels his cursed energy pulsing like the rest of him. he groans, submerging his face in your cunt with a genuine pleasure you’ve only seen from him. he loves eating you out, loves the taste of you on his tongue—loves how your noises only rile him into fucking the bed, whining and grunting with his own neediness that he could only unleash once he’s properly readied you for it. 
“you taste so fucking good baby…so sweet down my throat. get loud, i don’t care it’s an apartment. you’ll be moving out soon anyway.” he smirks, latching onto your clit to make your legs jolt like they always do. it makes him giggle every time, and the vibrations feel even better against your sensitive bundle. he rolls it around his tongue, letting his index finger explore the wetness he’s helping you create. he pokes into your entrance, knowing how violently you craved something inside. his thoughts are confirmed by the way you clench around the digit, whining and bucking into it for more. he’s more than happy to oblige, finger fucking you with two long and thick fingers while his tongue works overtime on your clit. he loves watching you at this part, enamored by your face as your hips involuntarily jump from the bed, smacking your clit into his nose instead of his skilled tongue. 
your entire body is warm, jerking like you’re receiving electrical shocks from the pleasure satoru reigns down, gasping and sputtering on the edge of orgasm just a few minutes after he started. it’s always like this with him–though this time was special because you knew your life was changing before your very eyes—that satoru’s energy was growing so rapidly because he’s letting go of all kinds of stress and pent up frustration and anger. “please—wanna cum please sato–”
“daddy. i’m daddy now. ask daddy nicely.” he chuckles as he leans his head against his free hand, curling his fingers into the spot he knows so well just to watch your mouth drop and eyes widen in absolute blissful shock. you nod–brain fuzzy from his constant teasing and his new nickname. 
“daddy!! yes—daddy! please, oh my god—daddy let me cum!” you sound so good when you say it–it’s all he ever wants to hear for the rest of his life. he can’t wait for you to make him a real daddy. 
“oh missus gojo can do anything she wants.” he coos as if he didn’t make you expressly beg for permission, lowering his face to your cunt again with precise licks, shoving your hood back to absolutely abuse your sensitivity. your legs develop a mind of their own and you’re spiraling over the edge before you can understand what he’s doing. floating balls of color cover your vision and you scream his name just as loud as he wanted. he grins in satisfaction, hands resting on your knees so he can push himself forward for a sloppy kiss; slick covered lips sliding against yours so you could taste your own essence via his tongue shoving its way in your mouth with a hearty moan. you match his eagerness, making out with satoru with more passion than ever before–because you both have the security of knowing it’s real this time. he maneuvers his hips until his leaky tip catches on your hole, his breath shaky as before he shoves in like he always does. you squeeze him so tight it’s not hard to believe why he lost his fucking mind over this pussy. he truly would do anything to make you his, thank god you didn’t put up a fight. 
“fuuuuck–” he whines a little, finding it nearly impossible to even move in the first place. you feel the burn of his fat and lengthy shaft parting your walls like they routinely do, mouth dropped wide open in pleasure. satoru hovers inches away from your face, so close that the ends of his hair tickle your forehead as he picks your legs up—holding you by the back of the ankles before he sets a brutal pace. his nuts clap into your ass from the way he moves, length curving just right to fill you to the brim. he doesn’t even have to try all that hard to bottom out against your cervix, finding the way you moan and twitch so adorable. “this is why you have to be my wife—i need you for life, sweetheart.” 
your eyes widen at that declaration–though you already realized that satoru would never let you out of his clutches again. you knew he would marry you as quickly as possible based off of his desire to also knock you up as quickly as possible—but hearing him call you that, first missus gojo and now his wife, it all felt so real. his cock slamming into you only drilled it in further, his eyes glowing brighter than you’ve ever seen. the air also grows its own electric field, suffocating and thrilling all at the same time. your eyes are glued to him, entranced by the feral look on his face. you try to hold onto him, but he’s moving so punishingly you can’t even get your hands to work, mind and body on cloud nine. “you’re so beautiful. i’ve been in love…with—you–for years now.” he says in between deep breaths, trying to contain all his focus into drilling you unconscious. 
you shudder, feeling that was completely in the realm of possibility. his balls ache, the need to breed you just as heavy as all the other times you’ve come to him to clean up every mess of yours ever since he’s known you, the need to make you his in a way no one else would be allowed to—it’s carnal. he can’t stop until you’re full of his seed and it takes. he needs to see your breasts heavy with milk to feed his baby from. he needs to see you struggle with the weight of your belly so he can urge you to rest and let him serve you like you should be. he needs to see what the combination of your love looks like; what these last ten years of hard work would become. he’s painting your insides white and still pumping just as fast as before, watching your face tick and jerk with the pleasure you’re experiencing as you tip off of your own peak. he grins, shoving that cum as deep as it will go. he stops when he knows your body can’t take anymore, cuddling you to his chest until you fall asleep safe and sound. he has the whole world in his hands, and that’s never been enough. now he can sleep with a genuine smile on his face. he knows your body will regulate in a few months off the birth control—but that doesn’t mean he can’t get plenty of practice until then. after all, he has a problem! he has to breed his pretty little girl best friend turned future wife. 
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remlionheart · 5 months
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NSFW Alphabet: Osamu Dazai Edition ♡
♡༊·˚ mdni. ((dedicating this to my pretty gf @bratbby333 since she's the dazai to my chuuya and some of these situations were in inspired by our unhinged 5 hour long facetimes calls, *cough cough* "blood-chilling" *cough cough* ♡)) this was honestly so much fun to write. dazai would be SUCH a diva in a relationship but he would also be so loving and protective ugh. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡༊·˚
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Dazai's almost always the first one out of bed after the fact. He already has a shower running for when he comes back into the room to hand you a towel and a glass of water. You tell him that your legs are too tired to walk all the way to the bathroom so he scoops you up into his arms. The two of you laugh as he carries you into the steam-filled room. He lets you get under the water first, squirting a generous amount of shampoo into his palm as he instructs you to turn around. "Suppose your hands are too tired to wash your hair, hm?" You bite back a smile, giving him a pitiful nod in response. "My poor girl." He hums. His long fingers massaging into your scalp feel like heaven. He leaves light kisses along your shoulder, running a washcloth over your body while whispering sweet little nothings like "How'd I get so lucky?" into your skin as he cleans you off. It's hard to believe this was the same man who was making you beg on your knees for him just twenty minutes ago.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Aside from his body's infuriating aversion to death, there aren't a whole lot of things that Dazai doesn't like about his appearance. Aesthetically speaking, he finds himself fairly attractive so it's hard to narrow down one thing he likes best. If he had to though, he'd probably go with his hands. He's always gotten compliments on them, but after seeing what strong reactions they're able to coax out of you so easily, he's realized they're one of his most valuable assets. As cliche as it may be, your eyes are his favorite feature. He finds it adorable how they always tell him what he needs to know without you ever having to say a word. They tell him when you want more, when you want less, when you're about to hit your breaking point. They guide him in the right direction every single time. Plus, they're just so fucking pretty to look at.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
The only thing more blissful to Dazai than hearing or seeing your orgasm is tasting it. His head is buried between your legs, his fingers pumping in and out of you deliriously as your thighs start to lock around him. You're spasming for him again, your voice breaking as you call out his name and your hips buck up towards him. "Dazai, I can't -" You whine. "'m so... sensitive -" "C'mon baby, please." he groans, "Just one more f’me." his tongue swirls against you with fervor, his digits still greedily plummeting into you. "Lemme taste it, lemme feel it. You’re sooo close." His fingers curl at just the right angle, his tongue faithfully lapping against you as you finally fall apart for him. He moans at the sweetness that spills down his chin. "You taste like fucking ecstasy, you know that?"
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
It's not necessarily a secret because in his defense, if you were to bring it up or ask him about it, he'd tell you the truth. But Dazai can't help it that you've never inquired about his exes and he's certainly not going to offer up the fact that he knows every single person you've ever been with going all the way back to the boy you kissed on the playground when you were 4 years old. Or that he just so happens to know all of their current addresses and their moms’ maiden names and where they work and their social security numbers. I mean, does it even really matter anyway?? He just got a little curious, that’s all!!
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Dazai had been with his fair share of partners before meeting you. Sex wasn't something he was ever shy about. He did a lot of experimenting, especially when he was spending the majority of his time drinking. He's always felt comfortable in his body and never saw the big deal about sharing it with someone. It wasn't until the two of you started dating that he realized just how binding sex could be. That it could transcend well beyond the simplicity of skin against skin contact. Being inside of you was the closest thing he'd ever felt to a religious experience. It felt like coming home after a long day. No matter how many hookups he'd had in the past, there was nothing that could've prepared him for how good you'd feel.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He likes any position that allows him to see your face. His favorite is probably fucking you from the side though, both of you facing each other with his arm hooked under your thigh, letting him go as deep as he pleases. He gets lost in the way your pupils dilate when he plunges into you. The security of your arms wrapped around his neck as you whimper and wriggle against him. There's something so intimate about watching you come undone from this view. Feeling you drench him while he kisses you over and over. "Let it out, baby. I've got you. Doin' so good - fuck, baby you're doin' so good f'me."
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
As passionate as Dazai is when it comes to being inside of you, he's still able to find a level of a humor in just about anything. He's a Gemini, after all. If he's too serious for too long, he'll simply die. You're on top of him with your hands tangled into his for balance as you grind against him. Your hips are rocking back and forth at a pace that's making his breathing uneven. You feel proud, thinking his reaction is a sign of you doing a good job until you watch his head roll to the side, a stupid smile suddenly visible as he tries to bury his face into the pillow. You quickly realize it's not a moan that he's holding back, but a laugh. Your movements come to an abrupt pause. "Dazai." He tries his best to keep it together, but the scolding tone in your voice coupled with the stern look you're shooting him is only making it worse. “Wait, listen -" he tries to explain himself, but he's powerless to his own thoughts. A burst of suppressed laughter fills the room as he covers his face with his hands, still feeling the weight of your glare on him. "R - remember -" he struggles “Last week? When you were telling me about that book you were reading and...." he nearly snorts. "And you described it as -" Your lips press into a flat line, your eyes glazing over as you realize what he’s getting at. You knew the second you messed up that phrase, you'd never hear the end of it. "Are you seriously still laughing about the fact that I said 'blood-chilling' instead of 'bone-chilling?'" "BLOOD-CHILLING!" He repeats with the most obnoxious cackle, narrowly dodging the pillow you throw at him.
H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Dazai spends more time grooming himself than you do. Hours in front of the mirror looking at himself from every angle to make sure what he's done is up to his standards. He's subscribed to one of those manscaping services where they mail him out a surprise bundle each month of new products to try. When you go down on him one night, he asks "...Does it smell like teakwood?" Your head pops up immediately, unsure if you even want to know what he's hinting at. "What?" "Nothing... it's nothing."
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
In love, Dazai worships you. He has every inch of your frame memorized and knows exactly what each tiny movement and whimper mean. He's studied your body like it's his lifelong passion and he's learned how to make it respond so well for him. Your hips just barely buck up while he's on top of you and he smirks, his hair lightly brushing against your forehead. "You sure can handle the whole thing? Figured you'd still be sore after last night." You shake your head back at him with the poutiest expression, your core aching for more. "I can take it." you insist, "I can -" He challenges your sureness, giving you another inch only to see your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your hand gripping onto the sheet above you. He'd never deny you of anything you wanted, but especially not when you looked this gorgeous. He grabs your hand, tangling his fingers into yours before drawing back and burying himself into you. "That's my girl." he groans, reeling in the way your walls so eagerly swallow him. Your breathing is erratic, your composure completely gone as you writhe and clench around him. He knows you're right there. You start to close your eyes, but he stops you, bringing his free hand under your chin to redirect your attention back to him. "Let me see it, angel. Show me." He slams into you again, giving you every inch of him this time. "Show much you love this." And you do. You show him three times in 20 minutes how much you love it.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Dazai's the first to admit that he has a high libido and if the mood strikes, he's going to do something about it. He gets bored easily, so he has a variety of different mediums to get the job done - the 'hidden' folder on his phone that's filled with pictures and videos of you, romance mangas, fleshlights, audio porn, hentai. He's not afraid to experiment even when he's alone.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Dazai is a true switch and will really fall into either being dominant or submissive depending on the situation. There are nights he gets off work and starts throwing out demands like, "On the bed. Now. Legs apart f’me." as he strips out of his jacket and pushes you down further onto the mattress. But, the are other times where he's dying not to be in control anymore. Where he's had to make too many decisions and he revels in the way you take the reins. The way you climb on top of him and whisper "good boy" as he grows hard beneath you. The only thing he loves more than making you beg is begging for you.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Dazai has a bit of a thing for voyeurism and recklessness so when Kunikida hires a driver to pick the two of you up to take you to a dinner for the ADA, Dazai has no hesitation on hiking up your dress in the back of the limo. Peeking up every so often to see if the driver has even noticed the way your tits are pressed up against the window for passing cars to see as your vehicle speeds down the highway. You arch your back perfectly for him, giving him full control as he plunges into you. Your walls are so snug and gushy, he knows he won't last long. But you're enjoying this just as much as he is, playing with your clit as he grabs your hair and pulls you up to kiss him. "You like knowing that people can see me fucking you?" he whispers, biting down on your bottom lip. "Your cunt’s drippin’ alllll over me.” "Fuck - yes.” You moan, feeling your legs beginning to shake as you let out a strained. “I’d let you fuck me anywhere.” His smirk deepens, his thrusts becoming more frantic. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep, angel.”
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Dazai's pretty easy to wind up in general, but he definitely has a thing for asphyxiation. Perhaps it stems from the lingering effects of suicidal ideation, but the feeling of something cutting off his airways makes him feral. When you're on top of him and you reach for his throat, he nearly fucking melts. If he could choose any way to die, he'd request for it to be at the mercy of your loving fingertips digging into the side of his neck.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
There aren't many things that Dazai wouldn't do. Not just sexually, but in general. His curiosity almost always gets the better of him no matter the situation. The only time he's ever told you no was when you were being too hard on yourself. He walked in on you picking at your body in the mirror. Pulling your skin in different directions to see what you'd look like if your arms were thinner or what you'd look like if your nose leaned more to this way instead of that way. His heart sank. All of the post-work fantasies he had built up over the day disappeared the minute he saw how frustrated you were. "Hey," he whispered, coming up behind you and gently wrapping his arms around your waist as his chin rested on your shoulder. "Please stop being mean to my girlfriend. She doesn't deserve that." You tried to brush it off as a joke, leaning up to kiss him while he held you, but he pulled back. "I'm serious." he ran light fingers over your stomach, his eyes locked with yours in the reflection of the mirror. "We're not doing anything until I hear you say at least five things you like about yourself." He could see past almost any crime or murder, but he drew the line at you degrading yourself.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Dazai's all about both, but if he's being completely honest with himself, he loves the feeling of your mouth around his cock. How cute you look when you struggle to take the whole thing. The way your eyes widen when he thrusts into your throat. How thorough you are, turning the act of going down on him into a work of fucking art. Even though you’re the one submitting to him when you get on your knees, he still feels like he's at your grace. You feel so good, he'd do anything to keep your lips wrapped around him.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Just like anything else, pacing could go one way or the other. The thing about Dazai, is he wants to do whatever you want to do. Even when he's in more of a dom role, your pleasure is still his main focus. There's no such thing as wrong time or wrong place as far as he’s concerned. If you wanted him to fuck you slow and sensually in the club bathroom, he would. He'd dim the lights, lock the door, lay his jacket down for you to sit on as he propped you up onto the sink and kissed you passionately. If you wanted fast, rough, filthy sex by candlelight on a bed of roses, he would. He'd wrap his hand around your pretty little throat, mocking the way you're struggling to breathe as he bullied himself into you while you’re surrounded by romantic ambiance. Whatever you want, he does too.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
If there was a tornado approaching your house at a reasonable speed, Dazai would still find time to have a quickie with you. Especially if he thought it was the last thing he might ever do. He wants to feel you as much as he possibly can. The construct of time really means nothing to him. You have to log onto a work meeting in five minutes? "I can fit under the desk, baby :((( they won't even see me. Just spread your legs and keep a straight face, okay?" Your parents are on their way over? "They drive so slow anyway, angel and the door's locked. Promise we won't get caught." You're waiting for food to be delivered? "Bet I could make you cum twice before the doorbell even rings." Getting to spend five minutes in you is always better than spending five minutes out of you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Dazai isn't just willing to take a risk, he's usually the one pushing for it. Any time your phone rings, his hands are suddenly roaming along your body, his fingers dipping into the softness of your underwear as he starts to kiss your neck. He knows you're on the phone with your boss, that makes it even better. He wants to see how long you can keep your composure while he torments you. Your eyes are like daggers when you look back at him, but your cunt betrays you entirely, grinding against him needily while he smirks. He picks up the pace, reeling in the subtle way your thighs shake. You're trying so hard to sound so professional and coherent, but your thoughts are everywhere. You're having to hit the 'mute' button every few seconds just to let out a whimper. Dazai nips at the nape of your neck, slamming into you with an extra finger this time causing you to nearly drop your phone. "Ahh ~!" But there's no time to hit mute with how he's suddenly plunging into you. Your boss asks if you're okay and you have no choice but to hang up. "Dazai -" you try to keep your voice firm, but you can barely see straight the deeper he sinks into you. "What - the... fuck -" Each word is a moan, your hand grabbing desperately onto the collar of his shirt. "Dazai," "Somethin' wrong, baby?" "Dazai, you can't -" But he already is. He already is so bad. "Dazai, please." You're not even sure what you're pleading for anymore - if it's for him to stop or continue. Your walls are squeezing him so tight, your heart slamming into your chest as more uncontrollable whines fill the room. "Dazaaiii ~" you whimper again, soaking his hand as his thumb brushes across your clit. "Ohmygod, fuck. You can't keep doing that." "No promises." He smirks, carefully pulling out of you before bringing his fingers to his mouth. "It's not my fault you taste so good."
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
It all depends on the mood, Dazai's pretty versatile. Could he fuck you for hours? Yes. Has he? Many times. It's no secret that he loves watching you struggle to walk the next day after having your legs pinned against his shoulder. But he knows he can't do that every time. He generally tries to follow your lead and give your body what it wants - whether that's 20 minutes of gentle, deep, intimacy or an hour of a mating press followed by overstimulation. As long as you're getting off, so is he.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
His nightstand is filled with an assortment of silicone stimulants for the two of you. Cockrings and vibrators and bondage kits. Out of all of the subscription services he has, getting a bundle of mystery toys delivered to his house each month is by far his favorite. He always waits 'til you come over to open it. Pouring you both a glass of wine as you divvy them out and argue about decide on who gets to use what on who.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Osamu Dazai lives to tease you. As far as he's concerned, the only reason the sun rises each morning is so that he can find new and exciting ways to make you grovel for him. He'll tie your hands together above your head, slowly unzipping his pants in front of you. Forcing you to watch as he strokes himself above you, groaning out lewd little nothings like, "Oh fuck, 'feels soo good." while he smirks at your pouty little face and the way you begin to squirm underneath him impatiently. “See how hard I am? God, just imagine what it'd feel like inside you." His hand pumping uppp and doownnnn tortuously out of reach. "Tell me baby, would you want me to go hard and fast or reeaall slow and deep?" He fucking moans while you writhe helplessly against the mattress, your neglected cunt throbbing. "Dazai, please." "Poor thing." He mocks, still jerking himself to the sight of you looking up at him with pleading eyes. "You can do better than that though, can’t you angel? C'mon, make me believe you.”
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
There's no denying that Dazai's loud. You make him feel so fucking good and he wants you to know. He'll have a fistful of your hair, groaning out your name while your tongue swirls around his tip. "Fuuuck.” He whimpers. "Oh - my… god." Tiny hearts cloud his vision as he watches your throat fill with his length, the heavenly sounds of you gagging on him echoing across the room. Your eyes gloss over, spit pooling down your chin when you look back up at him, your tongue still pressed firmly against his base. "S'fucking gorgeous when you suck my cock." His praise only make you go faster, drawing out the prettiest whines from him. "Nnngh ~ don't stop, baby.” His grip tightens in your hair. "Don't. Fucking. Stop." His hips buck up with each syllable, his rhythm unrelenting as lecherous tears begin to spill down your cheeks. You keep going though, drowning in the noises he's making for you. "Right there, right there. 'm gonna - oh fuck. 'm -" You feel him twitch inside your mouth before a flood of warmth suddenly coats your throat. "Swallow f'me, angel." his voice is so heady and delirious, it comes out as more of a beg than a command, "Fuck... Yeah. Just like that, mmm, god, just like that." You take it all in, not letting one drop go to waste. "You're sucha good girl, you know that? Sucha good fucking girl."
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Dazai gives the illusion that he's not jealous. That it doesn't bother him in the slightest when you go out with your friends or when you stay at the gym longer than you said you would. He does trust you - completely, actually. He knows you'd never do anything to jeopardize your relationship with him. It’s the outside world he doesn't trust. When you're driving home from work, he's watching you through the location sharing on your phone. He stares at the screen intently until he hears you pull into the driveway. When you’re at the bar, he knows the importance of girls’ time and he’d never spoil that. He simply wants to make sure no one is bothering you. He shows up, stealthily lingering in the background, watching his pretty girl laugh with her friends and dance with a drink in her hand the way she should. He loves seeing you have fun, he doesn’t want to take that away from you. He just follows behind your Uber to make sure the driver gets you to where you're going safely. He's seen too many tragedies between working for the PM and ADA, he can't take the risk of letting anything happen to you. So, he doesn't. There's absolutely nothing off limits to you. The entire world is yours. You just... might see a man in a suspicious looking jacket that bears an eerie resemblance to your boyfriend trailing behind you from time to time while you're out. It's only because he loves you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Standing at a solid 5'11, Dazai's decently tall and slender - surprisingly muscular underneath all of those bandages. His waistline is so pretty and his hands? God, those long beautiful digits have brought you to your breaking point more than a few times. Besides excelling in dexterity, he's also packing. A perfect blend of length and girth that curves ever-so-slightly as if it was made for the sole purpose of hitting your g-spot.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Dazai would bend you over in in front of the Pope if you'd let him. He's unapologetically ready to go at any time. He can't help that you're just so gorgeous and that his eyes are always glued to the way your hips sway when you walk in front of him. He yearns for you constantly, even when you're not around. If he could have a 10-hour loop of you moaning his name that's what he'd use as white noise to fall asleep to each night. He can't help that his dick twitches at the thought of you. It's not his fault you're so pretty :((((
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Rest has never come easy for Dazai. He's tried every natural (and narcotic) sleep aide he could get his hands on. Put down multiple bottles of Pinot Grigio and still found himself up for days on end. Up until he met you, he didn't think it was possible for him to sleep for more than two hours at a time, but the first time you invited him over to your apartment changed everything. The two of you had been talking for hours - laughing and debating and sharing secrets over a bottle of cherry whiskey. He could've stayed up long past sunrise with you but when he noticed how tired your eyes were getting, he offered to take you to bed instead. Both of you stripped down into lazy pajamas. You, in an oversized t-shirt with nothing underneath. Dazai, in his boxers. You looked so peaceful when your head hit the pillow, he was sure that you'd be out soon, but to his surprise, your body had other plans. Your lips were soft against his, your hands gently roamed along his body as you pulled him on top of you. You smiled at the way his hair tickled your forehead. The sun was just barely creeping through your curtains, grazing your face as he slid into you, highlighting the pleasure that had taken over your features. It was all so hazy and comfortable. Your room filled with heady mid-morning noises while his body thrusted generously into yours. There was something so intimate about it that it nearly brought you to tears. You felt full in every sense of the word. When you were both good and spent, the two of you laid in the middle of your bed with your head nestled into his chest. He played with your hair, watching you fall asleep in his arms. He'd never felt more human than he did in that moment. His eyes closed, his mind turning off for what felt like the first time in years as he drifted off with you.
ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ
‎♡‧₊˚ here's chuuya's version if you're new here ‎♡‧₊˚
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roseykat · 10 months
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TITLE: Play Bite
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PAIRING: Hyunjin x Jisung x female reader
SUMMARY: You, Hyunjin, and Jisung have a really fun time playing a dirty truth or dare game after the plans for everyone to go out failed. Part 1 to the 'Play' series.
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.
Part 1 - Play Bite Part 2 - Play Fight Part 3 - Play Right
TAGS: Hyunjin, Jisung, and reader have all consumed alcohol but are not fully drunk, smut, kissing, hickies, making out, dirty texts, dirty talk, erotic truth or dares, use of pet names such as 'bub', 'baby' and 'pretty', swearing, food play (nothing heavy), solo orgasm, female masturbation, suggestive material, very vague mentions of choking (not emphasised), slight traces of top!Jisung.
MASTERLIST
A/N: Think of this as a prelude to this hard thought I posted a while ago. If you haven't read it, it will give you some context into what will come in the future for this type of concept. Also just to preface but not give away too many spoilers, nobody is cheating in this story.
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“Remove one piece of clothing, socks do not count,” Jisung reads aloud from the card in his hand. 
It’s the third task into the deck of dirty truth or dare at Hyunjin's apartment. After the entire group’s plan to go out for the night fell through when it started pelting down, it was in all three of your guys’ best interests to not waste the night. So, although he invited the rest of the group over for drinks, only you and Jisung decided to go around. 
An hour later into the night and already just past the point of tipsy, the three of you progressed to playing games. A set of dirty truth or dare cards was the first thing that caught Jisung’s keen eye as he analysed the plethora of games that Hyunjin had on a shelf in his living room. 
“You’re not even wearing socks, so you have no choice,” Hyunjin chuckles, almost evilly.
Jisung dons his best thinking face, eyes narrowing as he tries to come up with which item of clothing he wants to take off. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls the entire fabric up and over his head before placing it beside him, careful not to knock over his drink. 
Your eyes glue to his gorgeous bare top half for a few seconds too long before averting them to the floor like you weren’t supposed to look at him. It’s not like you’ve never seen him topless before in all of his honey toned glory. Almost always will Jisung proudly walk around half naked unprovoked when you’re around him. 
“Your turn bub,” he continued.
You clear your throat then lean over to pick a card up from the middle, then read it out loud, “oh…”
“What’s it say?” Jisung peeks his head over to see what’s written down before his jaw unhinges. “Let the person to your left select an area of your body for them to give you a hickey. Wow.”
Hyunjin, to your left, stares back at you in shock and horror. His cheeks were ballooned and full of liquid after taking a large swig of his drink before setting it down. The more silent seconds that tick by, the more flips his stomach keeps doing. But, he had to expect the unexpected with this game.
You and Jisung were ready to play by the rules and Hyunjin wasn’t going to exempt himself from it just because of the card you pulled. 
He swallows the mouthful of alcohol, “alright. Are you okay with me doing this?”
You nod even though you can feel your heart picking up its pace, “I am.”
He takes your answer and runs with it then ponders on the best place to plant a hickey on your body. It doesn’t take him long to think of a number of unspoken places where he would and even though he’s tipsy enough to disclose those areas, he decides to keep that to himself. 
“Okay, can you lie down for me then?” He asks. 
“Lie down?”
“Mm, otherwise it might be awkward to reach,” he explains vaguely. 
You start jumping to conclusions at the instant you hear his request, yet your mind is so hazy that your body just ends up listening to what Hyunjin has asked of you instead. You end up lying back on the floor, your head next to Jisung’s thigh who looks down at you while Hyunjin moves. 
His long body straddles yours but not fully putting his weight down on you. With his hand, he pulls back some of your hair so he can reach the area he wants before gently tilting your chin up and to the side towards Jisung. 
Hyunjin then sinks his face down just to the side of your throat and sucks. For a second, your body squirms at the slight achy pang that he brings to the surface of your skin. Still, with the way that your body is buzzing, it undoubtedly feels amazing. He remains there for a few seconds and uses his tongue to swipe over the surface he just marked.  
Jisung watches with his mouth ajar. He takes in the contorted look of concentration on your face, the way your eyelids flutter closed. 
It’s not long after until Hyunjin peels himself off of you then takes your hand to help you sit back up again. In hindsight, you wonder if it was all but necessary to lie down for him in order to give you a hickey. But Hyunjin’s thinking was that to reach your throat, you had to be on the ground. 
“That might’ve been-“ his face contorts with worry just looking at the fresh, deep and reddish mark. “A bit much, sorry.”
“It’s fine,” you respond, trying to act cool under the pressure. “It felt nice anyway. Okay, Hyunnie’s turn.” 
He draws another card, reading it in his mind before his eyes dart to Jisung, “make out…with the person beside you for one minute.”
“W-Which side?” You ask. 
“My left which is-“
“Me,” Jisung responds, pointing at his chest. “Alright then.”
Hyunjin stares blankly at his friend, unsure if he's joking or not, “wait, you’re…you’re serious?”
Jisung shifts his body closer to Hyunjin, his face nearing him, “that’s the game right?”
“Y-Yeah,” he replies sheepishly. “Yeah, okay then.”
“I can set a timer,” you announce.
He’s never done this before - kissed a friend, made out with a friend. For one, Hyunjin knows Jisung has done so multiple times, having been an impartial witness to it. Whether it was while Jisung was drunk, sober, high, it happened. Even with the same gender. 
“Alright,” you say, pulling out your phone as you go to the clock app to set a timer for one minute and place it on the ground. “3, 2, 1, go.”
You’re not sure who it was first that leaned in for the kiss after being so warped by the fact that they were even doing this. It was like Hyunjin offered his mouth and Jisung went for the kill. Both of them started off slowly by the time ten seconds hit. Twenty seconds in and Hyunjin’s hand comes up to the side of his friends’ face when the kiss deepens even further. 
You watch the glide of their tongues move so languidly with one another, doing unspeakable things in between your legs. Similar to Jisung’s reaction when Hyunjin gave you a hickey, your mouth was on the floor. There’s no way in hell could you ignore how hot it was to see them make out. 
After forty seconds, the pace had picked up a notch as they continued to move in sync with one another. Jisung’s hand had made it onto Hyunjin’s lap with some unintentional plan of slowly hiking up his thigh. In his mind, the more touch, the better. He already felt floaty because of the alcohol. Now Jisung touching him, kissing him, was an enhancement. 
At the mark of one minute, your phone rudely blares its alarm. Hyunjin pulls away with red lips, Jisung’s as equally as glossy as the other. They stall for a second, almost as if they briefly thought about going back at it again…
“Minho was right,” Jisung breaks the silence willingly. “You are a pretty good kisser.”
“What?” Hyunjin exclaims, his eyes almost popping out of his head. 
“What?” He whines. “He and I were trying to figure out who in the group would be the best kisser. Minho reckons you are.”
“You say that as if you’ve kissed everyone in the group to try and find that out,” You realise. 
“Well I just kissed him, so it’s everyone except for you now. Which there’s still time for since it’s my turn now,” he responds in a slightly hopeful tone and picks up his next card. “Huh, maybe not - what’s the most amount of times you’ve had sex in one day?” 
“Is that the first truth question?” Hyunjin points out, trying to subtly keep himself calm after what just went down with Jisung. 
“I think so,” you reply. “We’re nowhere near halfway through the deck.” 
“Three and a half,” Jisung answers. 
“And a half?” You and Hyunjin parrot in unison, the confusion very present in both of your tones.
“Halfway through the act, got caught, had to wrap it up and leave,” Jisung explains very succinctly. “It would’ve been four if it weren’t for fucking Seungmin. Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m holding a grudge or anything.”
“Sure,” you trail off, trying your best not to laugh at his misfortune while you go to pick up a card. “Uh, lend your phone to the person on your right and let them send a dirty text to someone in your contacts.”
Jisung claps excitedly, “hand it over baby!” 
You roll your eyes, reluctantly passing him your device, “anyone except my family otherwise I probably won’t live to see another day.” 
He takes your phone earnestly with a cheeky and devious expression before delving righteously into your contacts list, “don’t worry, I wouldn’t do anything like that.”
Jisung’s thumb scrolls excitedly trying to find the right person to send the right message to. He pauses over a couple of names and then finds one he thinks will give the most entertaining response. He creates a new message and types in what he wants to say.  
From You: I’m horny. Come over and fuck me.
The silence was palpable as the fate of your dignity rests in your friends’ hands. Once the message is sent, Jisung keeps your phone on standby while you all wait for the response. The sheer riskiness of the dare calls for you to pick up your drink and finish the rest off, knowing that you’re going to need it. 
“What did you write?” You ask him anyway, setting your empty glass aside. 
He looks smugly at the screen again and repeats what he created, “I’m horny, come over and fuck me.”
Your eyes widen in horror, “t-that’s not…who did you send that to!?”
“That’s a bit straightforward isn’t it?” Hyunjin laughs. 
“Doesn’t matter now, your turn, go,” Jisung nods to you.
“Fine,” you groan, snatching up a card. “How many times a day do you get off? Once, maybe twice. Done. Next, you go.” 
Hyunjin blinks in surprise at the information you so rapidly provided and leans into the circle to grab his card, “alright. Choose one person to sit in between your legs for the remainder of the game.” 
“I think considering that he and I just made out, it’s your turn to do something now,” Jisung smoothly contends his point before you could even get a word out. 
“Fair enough,” you respond coolly.
The move is practically childsplay in comparison to what they’ve done so far. Nonetheless, it quickly proved itself to be rather effective on your body. 
Hyunjin tries not to grin and spreads his legs for you to slot perfectly in between them. You’ve been this close to him before - in a hug at least. But never has Hyunjin been as acutely intimate with you as of right now. As he’s pressed up behind you, it’s hopeless to try not to be so affected by such subtlety. The warmth from his body glows like a heater onto your back and the steadiness of his breathing is comforting. 
“Sungie’s turn,” he says from behind you. 
Another card is taken from the deck and Jisung reads once more, “feed someone a food item with your mouth. Okay, but what kind of food?” 
“There’s that bowl of grapes just there on the coffee table,” Hyunjin points over to it. 
Jisung spins around on the floor and sees the assortment of snacks that they had laid out on the table earlier on. He turns back with the entire silver bowl in his lap, popping a couple of them in his mouth and eating away to his heart's content before proceeding with the dare. 
“You’re breathing heavy,” Hyunjin whispers teasingly in your ear while Jisung isn’t looking. 
“S-Shut up,” you utter back to him, trying not to act so utterly embarrassed by the truth he’s managed to highlight. 
Jisung pops in two more grapes and goes to sit beside you before talking with his mouth full, “bo’ o’ ya.”
“Huh?” Hyunjin retorts, trying to decipher what his friend is saying. 
You ponder for a second, “I think he said both of us?” 
Your guess comes up as correct because without a proper verbal answer from Jisung, his actions spoke louder. He leans towards your face first - closer than it has ever been since you’ve known him. The purple grape sits between his teeth as he goes to pass it to you by his mouth. It was awkward to manoeuvre at first, but the pair of you discovered that using your lips is key. By that point, Jisung manages to exchange the fruit as you crush down on the grape that explodes with such a sweet flavour. 
Then, he moves a bit behind you to reach Hyunjin. Both of them struggle to pass the grape without fully touching each other's lips once more. Then again, that was the point of the card that Jisung pulled. 
“Yummy?” he asks, sliding back to his original spot with the bowl. 
“Mm,” Hyunjin hums while he chews. “Sweet.” 
Half of the stuff that you’ve done so far with them makes you realise that you’re not that nervous to do these kinds of things. It could’ve been the alcohol, that definitely helps. But also because they’re two of your best friends and wherever they are, you feel safe in their proximity. 
“My turn,” you say as Jisung picks the top card off of the deck and slides it to you across the floor. “Oh - same as Sungie’s, remove a piece of clothing, socks do not count. Isn’t this just a forfeit card since it’s already been picked up?”
“No, not necessarily?” Hyunjin answers. “Plus, what if you forfeit that one and pick another one but it’s worse?”
He had a good point. It was a very mellow dare in comparison to the others you’ve all completed. With that in mind, your hands find their way down to your shorts, contemplating whether to take them off or not. Considering Jisung already has his top off, you went for the opposite in a sudden spur of confidence that was short lived when you saw the look on your friend's face. 
Jisung’s eyes couldn’t leave where your hands moved as you freed your legs from the fabric, allowing you to remain in your underwear. However, it becomes very apparent to you that taking your pants off wasn’t such a good idea when you know that you’re wet. Whether they knew it, particularly Jisung who had a full view of you, was too late. 
Behind you, Hyunjin was trying to keep himself calm as you moved around a bit, “w-who’s turn is it now?” 
Jumping onto a different topic gave time for Jisung to blink away from your body. He feels guilty for even staring at you like that in the first place. Then again, it’s not like you weren’t doing the same ever since he took his shirt off. 
“Yours actually,” you answer and without any spatial awareness whatsoever, you lean forward just a bit to pick up a card for Hyunjin that your ass slightly pushes back into his crotch in the process. 
After the fact of the matter, you realise what you’ve done. But it wasn’t intentional. You just wanted to pick up a card for him so that he didn’t have to move from behind you. As you come back to sit between his legs properly, you feel his forehead rest against the back of your head - a silent sign to prove he definitely recognised what you did to him.
Although he didn’t say anything because what was there to say to that? In hindsight, it might’ve been better forJisung to just read it out for Hyunjin. 
“H-Here,” you offer the card to him, playing it off. 
He lifts his head back up from yours and takes the item, “what is your dirtiest fantasy and why?” 
Right now if Hyunjin was able to answer honestly, he would say ‘fucking you while his best friend watches.’ But even for a filthy game that they’re playing, he thought it would be inappropriate to say. On top of that, it’s not actually his dirtiest fantasy. He could do way worse but just doesn’t know what at this point in time in his sex life. There was still time for him to explore…
“I haven’t really got one at the moment,” says Hyunjin. “I suppose just real…rough sex.” 
Jisung immediately becomes intrigued, oblivious to the fact that Hyunjin had it in him to admit such a scandalous piece of information, “what does that mean to you though?”
He becomes even more flustered under the heat of his friends’ question, it doesn’t help that he’s nearly fully hard behind you either, “it means things like…choking or hair pulling-”
“What…you like to do those things or those things being done to yo-
“Both, I like both. Anyway, that’s not the question,” Hyunjin interrupts impatiently. “Just move on.” 
It’s difficult for you not to laugh at him, yet as you go to pick up a card - more carefully this time for Hyunjin’s sake - your smile fades quicker than you could blink. Not one doubt crossed your mind about how obscene this game could get. Yet this card refuted all of that. 
“I…get…get yourself off in front of someone,” you mumble in a very quiet voice.
“Get what?” Jisung tries to reiterate. 
Hyunjin’s brows knit in concentration as he reads the card from over your shoulder, “she has to get herself in front of someone.”
An ‘o’ forms in Jisung’s mouth before he responds to that statement, “that’s a…an interesting card.” 
The three of you fall deathly silent to the weight that the dare has you under. Your mind wants you to do it, to satiate that instinctual appetite to pleasure yourself ever since the game heated up. To do so in front of your friends doesn’t appear to be a bad idea which technically it isn’t from the way they already have you unintentionally wet. That in itself said a lot.
Therefore, you spread your legs and bend your knees. 
An expression of realisation washes over Jisung, coming to grips with what’s about to unfold. As for Hyunjin, he can only sit and remain in place as a support for you to lean against when your hand slips down the front of your underwear as you begin to rub. A sigh of warm relief then pushes past your lips. The pads of your fingers collect your damp essence to use as you circle over your clit. 
Already, a hefty volume of pressure is escalating in the pit of your tummy, tingling and spreading throughout your lower half. All from being turned on by the game. The person in front of you and behind you feel the exact same way except the one behind you was already there a long time ago. Their cocks fill out against the inside of their thighs and Hyunjin is positive that you can feel him through his pants. 
“Y/N,” Jisung says. “Does that make you feel good?”
“Jisung,” Hyunjin warns him sharply, not wanting his friend to fuel the fire that’s burning. 
“Mm, y-yes,” you stutter, breath catching at the base of your throat the more you try and push yourself towards an edge. 
It could be better though. It could be the pair of them groping and teasing your body at their will. You know that they both know how to use their mouths with the way that they made out earlier on. Not to mention from the grapevine, you’ve heard about Jisung too; how he knows how to eat pussy. Then you have Hyunjin, who just exposed his fantasy of liking having rough sex. The possibilities with his ideas would be endless and fun. 
With the pair of them, you don’t think you would ever run out of orgasms. Just thinking about it makes your fingers speed up, becoming increasingly more wetter. Your muscles jerk every now and then when you inch closer to the tail end of your orgasm, which causes you to unintentionally move against Hyunjin’s crotch once more. 
“Y/N,” Hyunjin breathes out against you. 
“Don’t touch her,” Jisung snaps. “This is her dare.”
“I-I’m not fucking touching her,” he presses back madly, then mutters just to himself as he hides behind you. “Can’t help it Jisung.”
“K-Keep watching…” you plead. “So…close.” 
Hyunjin’s nails are digging deep into the carpet beneath him and his restraint not to touch you teeters dangerously on the last millimetre of a cliff. He’s throbbing, achingly hard. For you. Jisung can see his friends' knuckles turning white but he understands. He too remains hard in his sweats, which was obvious to you. Even just the slight outline that you can see indicates to you that he’s big.
Your mind starts wondering what that sort of length would do to your body, how would it feel to have inside of you? As you ask yourself those questions, you try to imagine that sensation when you start fingering yourself. 
You whimper pathetically, curling over that sweet spongy spot, “yes, feels so good. Makes me wanna cum…” 
“Yeah? Gonna cum in front of us?” Jisung eggs you on. “Gonna make yourself cum just for us?
Your dozy eyes lock with him just for a few seconds before you nod against Hyunjin’s body, “j-just for you both.” 
“F-Fuck,” Hyunjin squeezes his eyes tight shut, gritting his teeth so much that his jaw aches. 
As that familiar euphoric bliss catches up to you, a silent scream paints over your face while your eyelids clamp shut and your eyebrows are furrowed together, focusing on the pleasure. For a moment, you’ve forgotten that Hyunjin is behind you as you can’t help but shiver helplessly against his body from the waves of your orgasm. Quiet yet very audible moans ring throughout Hyunjin’s apartment, making themselves known as you gradually come down with heavy gasps. 
“Holy shit,” Jisung murmurs in awe, he can see that you’ve soaked through your underwear. 
The large wet and sticky patch makes him want to lurch forward, tear the piece of clothing from your body and taste you for himself. To have his face buried in between your legs would be the Atlantis of his own fantasy right now, to have you use his mouth and tongue until you’re cumming all over again. 
In the moments of quiet when the still air is filled with nothing but your staggered breathing and depleted whimpers as you try to collect yourself, your phone buzzes on Jisung’s thigh - the reply to the dirty text he sent from earlier on.
He looks down at the glowing bright screen and his jaw drops to the floor once more. His mind sobers quickly.
From Chan to You: Again? Still horny from this morning? Alright then, I can come over and give you what you need x
There was no way.
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eupheme · 1 month
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LOGAN HOWLETT [WOLVERINE] | NSFW ALPHABET
x fem!reader | deadpool & wolverine | 2k
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Logan is a considerate man, and knows he can really wear you out. Early on, maybe he’s a little more aloof - giving you privacy after fetching something to clean up with, stretching out in the bed after.
Once you’re his girl, he’s a lot more sweet. Makes sure you have some water if you need it, snacks, a shower - whatever you might want. Tucks you against his side, an arm wrapped firmly around you as you drift off.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Loves your mouth. Not just for reasons but because he loves your voice, loves to see you smile for him. It lets him know you’re happy, and god if you can be anything - he hopes that you’re that.
Enjoys your curves as well, especially your ass. Wear something that shows it off and his hands will be at your waist, pulling you flush against him. Loves to fuck you from behind, see it jiggle with his thrusts. Will rub a thumb against you (if you let him) slick with his spit, or let his palm crack down against your skin.
On himself, it’s hard for him to pick. His hands have hurt more than he’s held. Phantom pains in his knuckles after he’s healed. His face reminds him of his father, even as those memories fade. If he was forced to pick, maybe his chest - but only because he knows you like it so much. Letting your head or hand cradle against him, hearing his heart beat for you beneath.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
If he’s given the option, he’s coming inside you. Mouth is nice, pussy is preferred. Doesn’t like pulling out, wants to feel how you get all tight and wet around him before he’s spilling inside you. Gathering what slips out, either pushing it back inside you or smearing himself on your clit as he makes you come again.
Bonus points if he can keep you full for a little while, shooting you pointed look or a smirk from across the room while he drips out of you - your shared little secret.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Wouldn’t mind if you used him. Thinks it would be hot if you called the shots for a night - watching as you straddle him, using his cock for your pleasure. It’d be cute to see you try.
Secretly enjoys when you snuggle up next to him after. He'll probably never express how much you truly mean to him and the love he has for you strikes him like a lightning bolt at times. Logan is terrified of losing you like he's lost others (and he is so fucking aware that he won't age the same way you do).
It's easier to pretend he doesn't feel as much as he does.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Very experienced. He’s a good-looking man who’s walked the world for two hundred years. There’s not a lot he hasn’t tried, and he’s very willing to share what he’s learned with you.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
He likes you every way - missionary so he can watch your eyes glaze over. Mating press so he can grind his come into you and not spill a drop. Prone bone so he can fuck you into the mattress. Cowgirl gives him easy access to your tits, as he guides your hips.
Forced to pick a favorite and it would be from behind - he loves seeing you on all fours, ass high in the air as you wait for him.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Not very goofy at all. Serious in the moment, but will smile or laugh if something accidentally humorous happens (or in a condescening way).
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Intimate for sure. Likes to have you close and wrapped around him. Filth murmured in your ear, his lips at your neck and throat. Always wanting to be touching you, will keep himself inside you after, just because he likes how it feels.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Logan is a hairy man - a pretty expanse across his chest. A nice, happy trail that leads down - he does groom, but not overly so.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Early on, he jacks off to the thought of you often (especially if he can't have you). His hand fisted around his cock, head tipped back and eyes shut as he pictures you bouncing on his lap instead.
Once you’re together, it’s typically only when he’s away. Very down for mutual mast if he can get away with it - hearing how much you need him really gets him going.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Loves nothing more than coming inside you, grinding himself deep. Absolutely tips towards a breeding kink, with the way he likes to see you full of him.
Has a praise kink that goes both ways - has to hold himself back from coming early when you're telling him how good he feels, how close you are. Loves how responsive you are to the praise he coos at you ("fuck, there you go, baby. look so pretty when you come for me.") and how it turns you into a puddle.
Enjoys being in charge and calling the shots. He knows you want to be his good girl and he's definitely going to lean into that, just to watch you squirm. Seeing you listen to him - putting your pleasure in his hands, it does a little something for him.
(Might get a little turned on while play-wrestling as well, especially if you try to run from him. More than one evening has been ended on the floor together, with you pinned beneath him.)
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Not super picky. Preferred is his or your room, because he does like to take his time. But like with quickies (below) - as long as you’re physically safe he’s not above something adventurous.
Ideal location would be a secluded cabin, with a huge bed. And preferably no clothes.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Easily motivated. If you’re giving signals - flirting with him, wearing something that shows off your curves (or better yet, just letting him know or telling him that you want him) - he’s there.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Doesn’t want to hurt you. Might lean into a claw kink if it’s what you really want, but wouldn’t want to leave a permanent mark on you. Would not be down to spotaneously share you - it would be something he had to think about first.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Pussy-eating king. Always eager to get his head between your thighs, legs thrown over his shoulder (preferably for hours.) Teasing you about how wet you are for him, making you squirm with his fingers while he edges you with his tongue. Might be a bit lazy on the cleanup so he can smell you on him all day.
Bonus points if you're wearing something cute for him - he likes to see how the fabric gets damp from him before he tastes you (and definitely might pocket them in the afterglow).
Does love when you go down on him - loves the way he looks in your mouth. Loves how you drool, trying to make it fit. Definitely into it as foreplay, but would love to finish in your pussy if he’s allowed to pick.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Depends on the day. When he’s needy, he’s rough - bending you over with brutal, short thrusts. Grinding himself deep as he growls in your ear.
He’s not used to softness. If there’s an early morning where he can take things slow, he will. Savoring every minute, edging you with slow, lazy thrusts - only so that it will make things last a little longer.
Q = Quickie (opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Totally down for a quickie. Knows how to make you come hard and fast, and has no problem taking advantage of that. Especially as mentioned above - if he can sneak a quick round before a night out, he will - seeing you squirm with the memory and how his scent is all over you only fuels a longer, drawn out round later that evening.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Pretty risky. Would never put you in real danger, but isn’t above something quick with a hand pressed over your mouth to stifle your moans. A dark corridor, empty room, bathroom, bent over the seat of his bike - all fair game.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He recovers quickly, and his applies to his refractory period as well. Second (or third, or more) rounds are to be expected when you both have time - though he’s always going to put you and your comfort first.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
With how old he is, he’s not a huge fan. Will come around if there’s something you want to use with him, but wouldn’t really offer or think about it himself. Pretty cocky about the fact that he doesn't think you need them with him, but if it's something you want to try (a toy to fill your other hole, or something like a strap), he will give it a go.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Loves to tease. From just giving you a look (all darkened, lingering eyes that travel down every curve), to gropes and murmured filth in your ear. On a night out, you're both riled up before you make it back home.
Will edge you with his tongue, his cock, his fingers until you’re begging for it. And then he might edge you just a little more.
V = Volume (how loud they are, etc.)
Dirty mouth. Not super loud in bed but will pant, moan, grunt in your ear. Asks (sometimes condescending) questions when you’re fucked out, knowing he has you too close to the edge to fully answer. (“You can be louder for me, can’t you? That's it, that’s my girl.” / “Just needed my cock, didn’t you sugar?”)
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Not random (just didn’t fit make it into the above), but Logan is bisexual and open to a polycule (if it's the right person, or if he’s joining an established relationship.)
Loves hearing that you're his. A well-placed "yours" will make him moan.
(He also won’t admit that he liked when you accidently called him daddy. Might have laughed when it slipped out, all low and husky. Teasing with a “is that right, sweetheart? come on, tell daddy what you need.”, but he didn’t mind it. It scratches at that protective/dominant itch inside him.)
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under the clothes)
He’s sculpted beneath. Thick arms and thighs, broad chest. You know this even before he takes any clothes off because Wade’s told you about it. Multiple times. In detail.
It’s still a shock.
(It’s heavy. Long, too - a thick vein running down the shaft that mimics the ones in his arms. Pretty and flushed - your fingers struggle to wrap around. You’re not sure if it will fit, but by god - you’re gonna give it your all.)
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
High, when he’s not stressed out. He thinks about you a lot, even if he doesn’t say it. Loves connecting with you physically, knows that even if he doesn’t have the words, he can make you happy like this.
Sometimes even when he is stressed - working out some of his frustrations on you (fucking you hard and fast, legs thrown over his shoulders, or pounding you into the mattress as you sing for him.)
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
When he feels safe, somewhere far from danger and tucked away, he will doze off with his arms around you. Still a light sleeper, but he will let himself have this indulgence.
Logan does struggle sleeping next to you, sometimes. It’s not you. It’s not your fault. Afraid of waking from a nightmare or startling awake - claws drawn - and accidently hurting you. He’d never forgive himself - it’s enough that he’ll wait for you to drift off, before he slips away to sleep close by. He's still gonna watch over you, after all.
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thanks for reading! 💖 sfw alphabet coming soon!
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heavenbarnes · 7 months
Note
Can we please get a blurb of big dick Hotch (who knows it’s big) making it fit? Reader thinks they can’t take it but Hotch just knoooows they can. Hehe thank you!
You say it’s big but you take it
Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader
Warnings/contains: reader is gender neutral with no mentions of genitals, oral sex, edging, penetrative sex, no protection, finger sucking, swearing, dirty talk, light face slapping, probably a size kink
I’m so grateful for this ask because I only explored this a little in my last Hotch fic and it deserved more
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He’d had his mouth between your legs for the better part of an hour, his tongue working over your entrance as his fingers gently worked their way in.
That, that was already doing your head in. His thick fingers stretched you enough to have your toes curling, fingers threading into his hair.
You’d been on the precipice of an orgasm from the beginning too, every time you’d get close enough he’d slow you right back down to work you up again.
Pathetic. You looked truly pathetic, utterly debauched and completely fucked out- already.
Stripped naked, Hotch had pulled every last article of clothing off you before he’d pushed you back on the bed. Of course, he’d only shed his suit jacket and loosened his tie. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt but he was still nearly entirely covered.
That was another way he commanded total power over you. Leaving you so exposed to him whilst you had to fight for a glimpse at him.
Drove you fucking crazy.
You couldn’t help the whimpering as you felt him move away from you, hands stretching out to catch him but he quieted you quickly.
“Stop it- you’re being greedy.”
Lip jutting out, pouting like a child- he was completely correct but you made no effort to stop. “I need you.”
Kneeling back, you watched his big hands start to loosen his belt, pulling down his pants and briefs just enough to free himself.
“You’ll get me, when have I ever let you down?”
He had a point, you couldn’t imagine a world where Hotch didn’t leave you satisfied. But he was right, you were greedy and your patience was wearing thin.
You watched through hooded eyes as he reached into his boxers, pulling out his cock before giving it a languid stroke. It nearly made your eyes roll back, not even his large palm dwarfing the size of it.
He placed that same palm in front of you, giving you a quick nod that you understood immediately. Tilting your head, you spat into his hand before he wrapped it back around himself.
As he slowly jerked himself off before you, his other hand came back to keep rubbing the wetness from his mouth around your entrance.
His eyes flickered to yours, knowing he was being watched. He knew you well enough to know what you’d say next.
“It’s so big.”
It wasn’t even to stroke his ego, and the way you whined when you said it painted it more as a protest. Aaron Hotchner was hung, there was no denying it.
Every time with him felt like the first.
That’s why the prep went for so long, that’s why there was very seldom a quickie, that’s why you always woke with a burn between your legs.
“I know it’s big, sweetheart,” He cooed, rubbing his hand over the tip. “But you always take it so well, yeah?”
Your mouth dropped open with a cry, bucking your hips into the touch of his fingers. This was how it went, he’d work it into you with a lot of patience and a heap of praise.
The blunt tip was nudging against you, breaching the tight grasp of you as he slowly slid himself in. Your eyes screwed up tight until you felt Hotch grasping your chin, four fingers and thumb on either side as your lips puckered.
“Watch me,” His breath was clipped as he continued to ease his hips. “Watch it go in.”
His grip tightened slightly as he tilted your head down, eyes falling on the sight before you. His thick cock, stretching you around him as another inch of him disappeared.
“Fuck- s’too big-“
His grip loosened enough to lay a quick and gentle slap to your cheek, shutting you up in an instant.
“I don’t want to hear you unless you’re telling me to fuck you harder.”
Your stomach tightened up, a surge of pleasure hitting your straight on as he spoke. The burn was beginning to ease the closer he got to being hip deep.
Once he’s fully sunk in, he stilled enough for you to get fully adjusted. The moment he heard a deep moan from the pit of your chest, he knew that was his sign to start moving.
“That’s it, so good for me,” His fingers slipped across your lip before he dipped his thumb in your mouth. “We’ll always make it fit.”
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waitimcomingtoo · 7 months
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And I’ve Been Meaning To Tell You
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis: you overhear Peter denying that he likes you so you go out with another guy, leaving him to crash your date and tell you how he feels
Masterlist
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“At what point does the staring because you’re pining for your friend become staring because you’re a stalker and planing on wearing her hair as a wig?” Ned asked after following Peter’s gaze and seeing he was once again staring at you from across the cafeteria.
“I don’t know. I think when I start wearing baseball caps and standing outside her window with binoculars.” Peter sighed happily and rested his chin in his hand as he continued to stare.
“But, it’s not gonna get to that point though, right?” Ned laughed nervously.
“I don’t know.” Peter shrugged. “She lives on a pretty high floor.”
“That’s not the answer I wanted.” Ned said quietly.
“I had a dream last night that I asked her out and she said “I’ll see you at 8” without ever telling me where we were meeting just like in the movies.” Peter said proudly.
“You should not be proud of that. Why don’t you just ask her out with your out loud words for once?” Ned asked him.
“Because the dynamic of our friendship will be-“
“-forever altered past the point of repair and things will eventually return to normal but never feel the same.” Ned groaned as ge finished Peter’s sentence. “Yes, I know. Thats always your excuse. But I really don’t think she’ll say no.”
“You don’t know that.” Peter insisted. “I can’t risk it.”
“Peter, it’s so obvious you guys like each other. She always laughs at your jokes and nobody, and I mean nobody, finds you funny. And I know you like her back because you stare at her all the time and got goosebumps that one time her ponytail hit you in the face.”
“It smelled like freedom and prosperity.” Peter whispered.
“So ask her out and smell her ponytail all the time.” Ned whispered back.
“I just can’t, okay? And I don’t even like her like that. So stop bringing it up.” Peter said and looked over at you again. He watched you leave a group of friends and walk over to him and Ned.
“But you guys obviously want to be together so why don’t you just be together?” Ned asked him.
“Because I don’t like her and she doesn’t like me, okay? That’s that.” Peter whispered harshly just as you sat down at their table.
“Hey guys. I’m pretty sure I just got a veinte out of one hundred on my Spanish quiz so.” You sighed and dropped your backpack on the table.
“Hi.” Peter’s blushed and smiled at you. Your bad mood quickly eviscerated and you smiled back.
“Hi Peter.”
“If you want, I can help you study for your next Spanish quiz. I took it last semester and did fairly bien.” Peter offered.
“Really?” You lit up. “Thanks, Pete. That would be so bien of you.”
“No problemo.” Peter said back.
“This feels…racist.” Ned mumbled as he watched the interaction.
“I, uh, I watched that movie you were talking about the other day.“ You told Peter with a nervous smile.
“You watched Alien? Did you like it?” Peter asked excitedly.
“I did but it made me kinda paranoid about, you know, aliens. But I liked the part when the alien came out of the guys chest. I never realized that scene was from that movie. I felt like I was finally in on the film bros inside jokes.”
“Yeah. I like that part too. I also like the part when he swam up the filters motor and stuck that pebble in there so the tank would get dirty and have to be cleaned, giving all the other fish a chance to escape.” Peter replied. It took you a minute to get it but when you did, you burst out laughing. Peter blushed at how hard you were laughing at his joke while Ned watched the interaction in disgust.
“That was not funny.” Ned shook his head. “Not even a little bit. It was a little criminal actually.”
“What? Yes it was. Peters always funny.” You insisted.
“Isn’t he though?” Ned faked a smile before rolling his eyes.
“Hey, back off. I liked the joke.” You defended Peter, making his blush deepen.
“Thank you. I like your jokes too.” Peter told you.
“Ugh.” Ned groaned. “This is revolting to watch. Why don’t you guys just get married already?”
“That’s not a bad idea.” You said. “We’d get a tax break, right? Whatever that means.”
“It’s when they break your taxes in half.” Peter answered.
“Oh, is that it?” You laughed. “Sounds about right.”
“I know because I took that accounting class freshman year. You weren’t in that class so you wouldn’t know.” He teased you.
“Hm. Is that the class they cancelled because not enough people signed up?” You teased back.
“Yep. That one.” He nodded. “Wow. The memory on you. You’d be an excellent gatherer if this was Hunter gatherer times.”
“Aw, Peter. That’s the nicest thing a guys ever said to me.” You smiled and touched your heart.
“If you liked that compliment I have like eight more in the chamber ready to go.” Peter told you.
“Oh my God. Just make out already. But not in front of my clementine.” Ned grumbled and peeled his clementine. You and Peter fell silent at his exclamation. Peter’s face burned with embarrassment while you avoided eye contact with either of them.
“I’m gonna go refill my water bottle. I’ll be right back.” You smiled awkwardly and quickly left the table.
“Nice job, Ned.” Peter hugged. “You just made her so uncomfortable she went to fill up a full water bottle.”
“I told you, dude. She obviously likes you. I was just pointing out the obvious.” Ned defended himself.
“She doesn’t like me.” Peter insisted.
“Are you kidding me? You just made a Finding Nemo joke and she actually laughed. Not even fake laugh. That was a genuine belly laugh at the worst joke I have ever had the misfortune of hearing. She’s down horrendous for you.”
“No, she’s not. She just sees me as a friend. And I don’t even like her like that so it doesn’t matter.” Peter lied in an effort to change the subject.
“You can’t hide the truth from your best friend. I see right through your lies. You like her. I know it and you know it. Why can’t she know it?” Ned asked.
“I told you to stop bringing it up.” Peter grumbled, growing frustrated now. It wasn’t uncommon for Ned to bring this up but it was happening more than usual lately and all it did was remind Peter that you’d never be together.
“But-“
“I don’t like her, okay? I never did. I don’t think she’s pretty, I don’t find her funny, and I don’t want to be her boyfriend. I don’t know why you don’t believe me. I swear, I do not like her like that. I never have, and I never will. Okay?” Peter snapped. Little did he know, you had come back to the table and heard his whole outburst. You blinked a few times as your stomach sank but put on a brave face and sat down.
“I’m back.” You forced a smiled but didn’t meet Peter’s eyes. Peter’s eyes widened when you sat down and he looked at Ned.
“How much of that did you hear?” Peter asked you.
“How much of what?” You played dumb. You had to pretend you weren’t crushed that the boy you’d been pining after for years just very aggressively confirmed he didn’t like you.
“Nothing.” Peter lied and exchanged another look with Ned. Ned shrugged before changing the subject to move away from the moment entirely. You pretended to listen as you tried your best not to look as disappointed as you felt.
Once your break was over, you left the cafeteria and went for a walk around campus to clear your head. You ended up on a bench and sat down before taking a big sigh. You hadn’t noticed the guy that was sitting on the other end of the bench, but he certainly noticed you.
“Hey.” He said. You looked around for who he was talking to but found no one.
“Me, hey?” You asked and pointed to yourself.
“Yeah. You, hey.” He smiled and nodded his head.
“Oh. Hey.” You smiled back.
“I’m Drew.” He said.
“Y/n.” You said back.
“What’s the matter, Y/n? You look forlorn.”
“Oh, it’s stupid.” You waved your hand.
“Not to me. Tell me about it.” He insisted and scooted closer to you. You looked down at the lessened space between the two of you and laughed shyly.
“It’s nothing. I just overheard my friends talking about me.” You told him.
“Oh shit. Was it bad?”
“Not necessarily. But it didn’t make me feel good.”
“Damn. That sucks.” Drew said. You nodded in agreement and an awkward silence fell between you.
“I like that shirt.” He said suddenly and nodded towards your shirt.
“Oh, thanks. I borrowed it from a girl I didn’t even talk to anymore.” You replied as you pulled on the shirt.
“Finders keepers.” He shrugged. “You should wear it when I take you out.”
“Why would I wear a shirt you’ve already seen when we go out?” You laughed.
“So we’re going out?” Drew smiled.
“I guess we are.” You shrugged and realized you had just agreed to a date.
“Cool. I’ll pick you up Friday.” Drew winked at you before getting off the bench. You smiled at the unexpected interaction before realizing you had not gotten a single detail.
“Wait, pick me up where?” You called after him, but he was already gone. You slumped back in your seat on the bench and felt an equal mix of confusion and excitement. Maybe this new guy was exactly what you needed to forget about Peter.
The next day, you sat with Peter and Ned at your usual spot in the lunch room but barely paid attention to their conversation. Drew had found you on Instagram and you’d been talking to him all day. Peter had noticed your thumbs flying around your keyboard and the smile on your face and felt curious and ever so slightly jealous about who was making you smile like that.
“Is that good with you Y/n?” Ned asked you.
“Sorry, what?” You asked and put your phone down.
“We were saying we were gonna get chicken wings and watch the Trixi Mattel documentary.” Peter informed you.
“Again? And I can’t Friday.” You told them.
“Why not?” Peter asked.
“I have a date.”
Ned and Peter exchanged a looked before started to speak at the same time. They both stumbled over their words and spoke over each other as they gave you all their thoughts and opinions on why you should not go on this date. You tried to cut in but Ned kept listing Criminal Minds plot lines where women were murdered while Peter asked question after question about the guy.
“Slow down. One at a time.” You shouted over them and they both went silent. You pointed to Ned to signal that it was his turn to talk.
“You have a date? With a human boy?” Ned asked in disgust.
“Yeah. Is that surprising?” You asked, sounding a little hurt that they were so shocked.
“No.” Peter replied and looked at Ned to signal for him to say the same so that you wouldn’t be offended.
“Yes.” Ned said immediately. “Who the hell is this guy?”
“Ned.” Peter said warningly.
“His name is Drew.” You shrugged.
“Drew? What’s his brothers name, draw? Stupid fucking past tense ass bullshit name.” Ned grumbled.
“Jesus Ned.” You laughed. “It’s a normal name. It’s short for Andrew.”
“Andrew?” Peter scoffed. “What is he, an apostle?”
“I don’t think there was an apostle named. Andrew.” You stated. “I think they were all named Mark. And like, John or something.”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.” Peter waved his hand. “Why are you going on a date with this potential psychopath?”
“Because asked me on a date.” You said simply.
“And you said yes? When we don’t even know this guy. What if he’s into hardcore drugs and wants to use you as a drug mule for his next big drug operation?“
“He seemed fine.” You shrugged.
“So you’re gonna risk your life going on a date with this lunatic because he “seemed” fine? What if he’s a cannibal?” Ned asked.
“I don’t think he’s a cannibal. He was just sitting on a bench on his phone.”
“Oh my God. He sounds completely insane. Check the sex offender registry for his name right now.” Ned instructed Peter. Peter started typing his name into his laptop so you shut Peter’s laptop with a roll of your eyes.
“Why are you guys being insane? I thought you’d be happy for me.”
“I’m about to end my life over this.” Peter mumbled.
“Me too.” Ned added. “What even spurred this reckless decision?”
“I don’t know. A guy hasn’t shown interest in me in a while. This guy did so I took a chance. Is it really that crazy?”
“Yes.” Ned said immediately. “You’re ludicrous for this. You are absolutely Pitbull featuring Ludacris for this. Saying yes to a date with a stranger. This girl has lost her damn mind.”
“How else do you meet people?” You asked them.
“You don’t.” Peter said a sarcastic laugh. you threw your hands up in exasperation and Peter and Ned exchanged a look.
“What he means is, you should try asking a friend out. That way, you already know them and know you won’t get diced and quartered into a bunch of little pieces.” Ned said kindly.
“Why would he dice me and quarter me? Wouldn’t one or the either be enough?” You asked.
“Probably not for this lunatic.” Ned laughed like it was ridiculous to suggest.
“I think you guys are over reacting. What if he’s just a nice guy wants to take me on a date?”
“No guy wants that.” Ned groaned.
“Wow. Thanks Ned.” You said sarcastically.
“What I meant was, Peter has something to say.” Ned said and pointed to Peter. Peter turned bright red and gave Ned an angry look.
“You do?” You asked Peter.
“No?” Peter replied.
“Right.” You smiled tightly and looked away from him, making Peter know he blew it.
“Where is the date?” Ned asked.
“I don’t know. Some frat house. He said his friend is having a party and he wants to take me.”
“A party? At a frat house? With underage drinking? Oh great. So this guy is a law breaker. He probably has an extensive criminal record already. And I bet it’s for the drug mule thing.” Ned insisted.
“We’re all 21. You literally turned 22 last week.” You reminded him.
“I don’t see how that’s relevant to this conversation.” Ned brushed you off.
“What kind of first date is a party anyway? A girl like you deserves to be taken on a nice, well thought out date that doesn’t involve getting drunk around strangers. If I was the one taking you on a date, I’d make a picnic of your favorite snacks and we’d eat it on the rooftop of my apartment while the sun sets.” Peter stated.
“But you’re not the one taking me on a date. He is. He likes me, you don’t.” You said sharply, making everyone fall silent. You hadn’t meant to snap at Peter like that but it bothered you that he was aggressively putting down your date after rejecting you.
“What? Am I wrong?” You asked the table.
“Peter.” Ned whispered but it was loud enough for everyone to hear. You looked at Peter again but he just couldn’t do it.
“No. You’re not wrong.” He said quietly. You nodded your head like you expected that before getting up from the table.
“I just wanted my friends to tell me they were happy for me. Instead, we just had one of the weirdest and least encouraging conversations I’ve ever been an apart of. I’ll see you guys later.” You grumbled and walked away.
“That went well.” Ned said once you were gone.
“She definitely overheard me. I totally hurt her feelings and drove her right into the arms of that cannibal drug mule. Why did I say those things?” Peter asked and rubbed his face in frustration.
“I don’t know man. I would have stopped at “I don’t like her” but you really went off.” Ned agreed.
“Because you were annoying me with how much you were asking.” Peter whined. “Oh God. What am I gonna do now? Shes gonna go to that party and fall in love with draw and forget all about me.”
“I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna find draw’s party and crash it. And you’re gonna woman up and tell her how you feel.”
“How are we gonna find his party? We’re not exactly good at attending parties.”
“I have my sources.” Ned smiled deviously.
“You’re just track her location on snap maps, aren’t you?” Peter sighed.
“Yeah, I’m just gonna track her on snap maps.” Ned admitted.
When Friday came around, Peter and Ned were glued to their phones as the tried to find out where you were. Luckily for them, you had been posting a plethora of pictures of the party to your Snapchat so they easily found where you were. Unlucky for Peter, Drew was featured in all of the pictures and you looked like you were having the time of your life. Peter swallowed down his jealousy and got dressed to go to the party. He rehearsed his speech for you in his head as he made his way through the crowd. He finally found you in the kitchen in the arms of a girl he didn’t recognize. Your eyes lit up when you saw him and you tried to go towards him but immediately tripped over your over feet.
“Peter!” You cheered and threw your arms around him. The girl who had been holding you let go of your waist while Peter looked at her in confusion. You stumbled into Peter and had a hard time keeping yourself up straight
“You know her?” The girl asked Peter.
“Yeah. She’s my best friend. What’s going on? Who are you? And where’s draw?”
“I’m Serita. I found her all by herself. She seemed pretty upset.”
“Well if it isn’t Peter Peter pumpkin eater. He actually doesn’t even like pumpkin flavored things. He doesn’t like me either. He made that very clear.” You laughed and clapped Serita on the back. Serita looked at Peter in amusement but he was too focused on how drunk you were.
“Are you drunk?” Peter asked in shock.
“What? No.” You scoffed and nearly fell over.
“She’s wasted.” Serita told him. “I got her to drink some water by telling her it was a big shot of vodka.”
“I’m just here to feel the heat with somebody.” You said and held your hands up in defense.
“I’ve never seen you drink this much. What happened?” Peter asked you.
“Psh. I’m not as think as you drunk I am.” You denied the obvious with a wave of your hand. The action caused you to stumble again and you had to grip Peter’s shirt to keep from going down.
“You can’t even stand up straight. Where’s draw?” Peter asked again and looked around the room for your date.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure he left with that pretty red headed girl from our statistics class sophmore year. With that teacher who had that cat with a silly name. Remember him? What was the cats name?”
“Kitty puss.” Peter reluctantly admitted.
“Kitty puss!” You cheered again and nearly dropped to the floor.
“I got you.” Peter said and tightened his grip on you. “But if he’s on on a date with you then why did he leave with another girl?”
“Because he didn’t get what he wanted from this girl?” You shrugged with a sad smile. Peter’s eyes darkened and he looked at Serita with a clenched jaw.
“What did he want?” He asked her.
“To get her drunk enough to lower her standards.” Serita stated. “That’s what he does to all the undergrad girls on this campus. Or at least, he tries to. Girls his age know better and stay away from him. But unfortunately for your best friend here, she didn’t know about his reputation.”
“Sterling Knight should have had a bigger career after Starstruck. He was funny and could sing. I never found him all that handsome but he had star power. He deserved more from Disney and I’ll die on that hill.” You interrupted their conversation to say.
“That’s nice, sweetie.” Peter smiled kindly at you before looking at Serita again. “I’m gonna take her to the bathroom and try to sober her up. Thanks for taking care of her. I’m glad she had a friend here.”
“Oh, I don’t know this girl. I just noticed she needed someone and stayed with her.” Serita explained. Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise before giving her a grateful smile.
“Oh. Well thanks for noticing. I got it from here.” He said before picking you up bridal style. You laughed gleefully and wrapped your arms around his neck, making Peter turn red again. Serita noticed this and stopped him.
“Hold on. How do I know I can trust you with her?” Serita asked. “What if you don’t even know her and you’re just trying to do what Drew was trying to do?”
“I promise I know her. Look. She’s my lock screen.” Peter said and showed Serita his lock screen which was a photo of the two of you.
“Best friend, huh?” Serita smirked.
“Please.” Peter whined. “I can’t hear it from you too. I’m an idiot and I know that. That’s the whole reason I’m here.”
“Well good luck. She’s been talking about “my Peter” all night.” Serita patted his back before walking away. Peter smiled at that before carrying you to the bathroom.
“Is this how Lady Gaga felt at the 2011 Grammys when they carried her in in that giant egg?” You asked as you rested your head on Peter’s shoulder.
“We will never know how Lady Gaga felt while being carried in a giant egg at the 2011 Grammys. You’re just being carried by your idiot friend to a disgusting frat bathroom that probably has salmonella and syphilis all over it.”
“Romantic.” You chuckled and held Peter tighter. He shut the bathroom door behind the two of you before gently putting you down on the countertop. He started rummaging through the medicine cabinet while you swung your legs.
“My tummy hurts.” You whined.
“I know. Take this.” Peter instructed and handed you Tylenol.
“Magic beans?”
“Tylenol. Drink this.” He chuckled and handed you back the cup of water from Serita. You chugged the water with the pills and wiped your mouth before giving Peter a sad smile.
“How do you feel? Do you need to puke?”
“No.” You shook your head. That action made you nauseous and you hopped off the counter to throw up into the toilet.
“I had a feeling that was gonna happen.” Peter mumbled.
“Don’t tell Kitty Puss about what a wreck I am.” You pleaded and threw up again.
“I won’t.” Peter laughed and held your hair back.
“I’m gonna die.” You whined and slumped against the bathtub. Peter sat down beside you and got the hair out of your face.
“You’re not gonna die.” He assured you. “You’re just gonna have really bad breath and carpet burn on your knees.”
“I hate carpet burn.” You said and started to cry. Peter had a feeling the tears weren’t just from the carpet burn so he wrapped his arms around you.
“It’s okay. Let it all out.” He said softly as he rubbed his hand on your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder for a minute before pulling away. He grabbed a tissue from the counter and wiped your tears for you.
“I’m sorry.” You said quietly as you stared down at your lap.
“What are you sorry for?”
“For going on this date.”
“No. I don’t want to hear that. You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Peter shook his head as he continued to dry your eyes. You pushed your hand away and held it so he would look at you.
“I do. I only went because I was mad at you. And I posted all those things because I wanted you to think I was having fun with another guy. But I wasn’t having fun. I was thinking about you the entire night.”
“Well you fooled me.” Peter chucked. “I thought you were halfway in love with this guy already. But why were you mad at me?”
“I heard you the other day. I heard you tell Ned you didn’t like me.” You admitted and gave him a sad smile.
“Oh, that’s not-“
“And it’s fine.” You cut him off. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you over that. It’s not your fault you don’t like me. We can’t help what we don’t feel.”
Peter stared into your eyes and saw a sadness he’d never seen you show before. You had sobered up a little but still weren’t completely there. He wanted to tell you how he felt, but he wanted you to be sober enough to remember it.
“So what happened to your date?” He changed the subject. You gave Peter a sad smile and shrugged your shoulders.
“He wasn’t much of a gentleman.” You admitted. Peters jaw clenched but he tried to remain calm for you same.
“Why do you say that?”
“I kept trying to talk to him and get to know him but all he wanted to do was get drunk. So I kept drinking whatever he handed me because I thought that would make me a more “fun” date.” You told him. You looked down at your dress and nervously fiddled with the hem of it. Peter stayed silent as he watched your eyes fill up with tears.
“I got all dressed up. I did my hair and my makeup. I tried to look pretty for him.” You said sadly. “But he didn’t even compliment me when he saw me. And he didn’t laugh at any of my jokes. I kept feeling like I was annoying him any time I asked him a question. But I was just trying to get to know him.“
“Well he’s crazy for not complimenting you. Because you look very pretty tonight.”
“Oh, please. My makeup’s running down my face and I probably have puke on my dress.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re still the prettiest girl in this room.” Peter told you.
“I’m the only girl in this room.” You reminded him and pointed to the bathroom wall.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re the prettiest girl in any room you’re in.” Peter stated. That brought a smile out of you and you slipped your hand into his.
“You’re sweet.” You smiled in appreciation and gave his hand a squeeze. Peter squeezed you back before getting the hair off your forehead. You leaned into his hand and looked into his eyes.
“What happened tonight?“ He asked quietly.
“Well, once I was drunk enough for Drew’s liking, he asked me to go up to one of the bedrooms with him. I went because I thought it was because he wanted a more private place to talk. I thought he wanted to hear what I had to say. Imagine that? Imagine your date being interesting in something you had to say? But he didn’t care about that. He didn’t want to talk.” You laughed sadly before looking down at the floor with a heavy sadness.
“What did he want?” Peter asked and braced himself. You looked up and met Peter’s eyes with a sad smile.
“You know what he wanted.” You said softly. Peter gulped and nodded his head so you wouldn’t have to relive it. You let out a sigh and wiped your tears on the back of your hand.
“He didn’t even kiss me.” You laughed sadly. “He just shut the door and tried to unzip my dress. I pushed him away and yelled at him, and then he got upset that I was upset so he left me in there. I was too drunk to go after him so I just sat there for a while in the dark. By the time I came back down to the party, he was already making out with another girl.”
“What’s this guys problem? He got to take the most incredible girl in this city on a date and he blows it in every way possible? He’d be lucky to talk to you, let alone go out on a date with you. How could he not see what a privilege he had just to be near you?” Peter said with genuine anger.
“Thanks, Pete.” You chuckled and felt slightly better about the night. Peter was about to go off more until he saw the look on your face. You didn’t need to hear Peter’s gripe right now. You needed comfort.
“Should we kill him?” Peter asked after a beat of silence.
“I think so. Serita told me he’s got a bit of a reputation for this kind of thing. I had no idea.”
“I can’t believe Ned was right and this guy really was insane.” Peter said, making you laugh.
“I know. I guess this means we should listen to him more.” You laughed. Peter smiled at you before scooping you up again and kicking the door open.
“Woah. Where are we going?” You asked as he carried you straight out of the party.
“On a real date.” He replied and you fell silent. He carried you all the way to his apartment building and swung up to the roof.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Peter said and he slipped out of his button down. He draped it over your shoulders to keep you warm before racing downstairs.
When he returned, he had a picnic blanket, his portable Death Star night light, a lunchables pizza, and two bottles of water. You smiled as he laid the picnic blanket down before patted the space beside him. You sat down and he wrapped a blanket from his bed around the both of you. You cracked open your water bottle and downed it while he put together the lunchables. He handed you one of the pizzas and you did cheers before silently eating them as the sun began to rise.
“Are you enjoying your meal, madam?” Peter looked away from the sunrise to ask you.
“Why, yes I am. This is one of the finer lunchables I’ve ever eaten. Compliments to the chef.” You played along.
“The chef thanks you kindly.” Peter replied and you both laughed.
A comfortable silence fell between the two of you for a minute as you watched the sky become pink. Peter looked over at you and felt his heart ache over the way the sun was lighting up your face with a warm glow. You were holding your blanket tightly around your body to shield yourself from the morning air and had your eyes shut to let the night wash away from you. Peter knew in that moment he was in love and it could not be unspoken any longer.
“So, uh, remember when we were in the bathroom before and you said we should listen to Ned more?” Peter began.
“That doesn’t sound like something I would say. But I guess so. Why?” You wondered and looked over at him. Peter looked you in the eyes and gulped.
“Ned was actually right about a second thing.”
“Two things? Is he going for a personal record?” You laughed. When you saw that Peter wasn’t laughing, you stopped smiling.
“What is it, Pete? Something bad?”
“No. Not bad. Just, um, just a little clarification, I guess.” Peter began.
“Clarification about what?”
“I know you heard me telling Ned that I didn’t like you. And I know that it hurt your feelings. Which I totally understand why it would. It was overkill. But what you overheard the was my frustrated attempt to get Ned to stop insisting that I liked you.”
“Oh. Okay.” You said slowly and never took your eyes off him. Peter stared into your eyes for the last time before everything changed.
“And the only reason he keeps insisting that is because it’s true. He was trying to get me to tell you how I felt and I snapped at him because I was scared that if I ever did tell you how I felt, you wouldn’t feel the same.” Peter finished. You stared at him for a long time but Peter couldn’t read your expression. You were definitely pensive but he didn’t know if you were upset with him or relieved to know the truth. You turned your face back towards the sunrise and stared out at it.
“Hm.” You hummed.
“Hm? That’s all you have to say?” Peter asked nervously.
“Sorry. I was just thinking about that part in the movie Alien when the two main characters get directions from that school of fish and all the fish take the shape of an arrow to show them which way to go.” You said very seriously. Peter shook his head before cracking up laughing.
“Wow. Ned must be on a roll because hearing my own joke repeated back to me makes me realize how unfunny it was.” He admitted, making you laughing.
“I still laughed.” You shrugged. “Even if it wasn’t funny.”
“You did.” He realized with a smile.
“Probably because I like you so much.” You shrugged again and stopped looking at the sunrise to look at him. Peters smile grew and he reached over to hand your hand in his. All that pining and anticipation had led to that moment of you finally admitted how you felt about each other.
“Yeah.” He smiled. “Thats probably why.”
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ellieslob · 7 months
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★ les
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+tags: rockstar ellie, masc ellie, fem reader, modern relationship, femme fatale reader, top! sub ellie, dom ellie, power bottom reader, fem reader, inspired by Les, Childish Gambino.
+warnings: smut, nsfw, degradation kink, mentions of cheating, toxic? relationship, angry sex, all consensual, submission, strap on, cunnilingus, rough treatment, strap gets called dick or cock, it’s not cheating to them.
ways to help palestine!!!
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REBLOG !
R★ you catched ellie’s eyes since the beginning of the song, since you started ‘dancing’ so close to a fuckin’ guy while looking straight into her eyes, all with a stupid smile, laughing at something that the brickfucker was whispering to your ear.
she didn’t notice the change of the song until the lights shifted to a red cherry, and the drums started to bring her to her senses, but could she really? not when you were practically fuckin’ some guy in front of her, in front of everyone.
before another song ended you practically ran with him to a room, to her room, you were such a dirty little bitch, and she knew how to treat bitches like you.
she slammed the door, throwing the guitar across the room, not caring about it the same way she didn’t care about leaving the concert or her band in the middle of a show. she couldn’t care less about all that smaller shit.
you were in the bed, legs spread out and stroking your tits as that fucker eat you up like a candy, that candy was hers, only fuckin’ hers.
she grabbed him aggressively by the shirt, ripping some of the fabric and making him get up so fast
“wait wh-
“get the fuck out of my room, dipfuck” she threw him out of the room, making sure he fell on his face and locked him out.
“hi baby, that was a good show, wasn’t too short?” you smiled at her while opening your legs, letting her watch how wet you were, you nipples and clit were abused and all reddish, shining because of the saliva of other man.
“you are a greedy whore, you know that?” as mad as she were at you, she still got down to your pussy with a smile on her face, bitting her lip when looking at you wet folds, trying not to yield to your power, trying to stay mad at you.
“ow don’t be jealous ellie, you know i can get bored at your long long shows, i need… entrainment”
“and you think those fuckers can give you what you want? your little cunt is mine, nobody can make you cum like i can doll”
“mm maybe not but they can keep me occupied while you are doing your job babe” you grabbed her hand while you were talking and started playing with your clit with it, she almost growled at the feeling, you were so hot and wet.
“i’m just a girl, i can get soo lonely watching you sing, touch that guitar with your strong hands that were made to fuck me, singing with that voice that was made to scream my name, i get horny just by watching you darling”
“so you just fuck some other dude?! doesn’t make fuckin’ sense darlin’ she smiled angry and held your hips strongly as she pulled down on you, making sure her mouth and your cunt were aligned.
“but if i play with them you get soo mad and you fuck me just the way i like” she was treating the way you wanted, like a fucking sex doll, so careless and rough.
“you’re such a greedy little whore babe, look at you we are fighting and you are clenching onto nothing” she was pissed, you knew it and you were drooling, you loved seeing her like that.
you both were so wet, you weren’t really fighting, never really were, you both knew how to play naughty and you both liked it so much, at the end of the day ellie knew you would never really cheat on her and you knew she couldn’t either, you trusted each other with passion but sometimes it was fun to make it spicier and y’all knew exactly how to push each other to that exquisite point of anger and love.
“ellie! yesyesyea” you always turned into a pretty mess whenever her tongue even barely touched your pussy, but she just was so eager, so desperate, she was eating you were the only food she’d had in months.
“oh look at my little hoe” she stopped linking just to give little slaps to your pussy, hitting on your clit as you.
“ell- please, please, i need it sososo bad” your whines high-pitched, you were practically screaming, but neither of you cared if someone heard you, actually ellie wanted you to go louder, maybe that way the fuckers that would go by the door would understand that you were hers only.
“what do you want, doll?” she murmured to you ear, so calmly and sweet, as if she weren’t rubbing your clit like a maniac.
“ellie i n-need you to- fuck!” you grabbed her jacket, shoving ellie to the bed hard enough until you could sit on her lap “you better fuck me, before i go out and ask someone else to do it baby”
she sneered as her gaze went dark, your hips were grabbed and pulled hard, you could feel ellie’s strap hitting your clit again, and she was controlling your hips to keep hitting it. “you really think another bitch could make you feel like this?” your moans just made her more greedy, she pulled your dress to your belly, taking a more elaborated look at the mess you pussy was, you kept grinding on her bult, so needy, so slutty, god she loved you “answer.” she stopped your hips, restraining you from getting to the edge of your climax.
“no! nobody, i want you, ‘need you ellie, please, i’ll be good, ‘promise” ellie smiled and pulled your little panties to the side, pulling her jeans a little and watched how her dark red plastic dick hit your clit directly when it was liberated.
“ask me to do it princess” she stimulated your nipples over the dress, stopping just for a little to expose your pretty tits, ready for her to make them bounce.
“ellie please, i’m begging you, please fuck me” your ego dissapeard with your clothes, all you cared about was to get that dick deep inside you, to get ellie to growl in your ear and fuck you silly.
when she noticed the little tears in your pretty eyes she knew you’ve had enough. you felt that big cock stretching your interior as ellie was rubbing your clit with her thumb. “god! yesyesye, t-thank you baby”
when foreplay ellie knew that you could be a little competitive and even fight with her for the dominance in the bed, but when she fucked you silly, you got so submissive it was sweet, your mean words turned into compliments or cute nicknames.
“that’s it my pretty girl, you like it?” it was kind of a rhetorical question, her dick was getting soaked in your juices, you were pounding yourself hard and from your pouty lips she could see a drool coming, god you were simply perfect.
“els i love it, god yesyes, i love you so much, fuck” ellie’s eyes softened and she just couldn’t stop smiling, she loved when your little act came down, when you were just her little angel, because she loved y’all little games and to play with each other but you were just so lovely like that.
“i love you too angel, come on, let’s make my little baby cum” she started hitting you on your sweet spot, your tits were bouncing directly on her face, she licked them when your nipple and her mouth hit. her hips were going way to fast and your clit was indirectly getting rubbed, it was driving you crazy
“ellie! i can’t, can’t any-ah give me, give” you weren’t making any sense at this point, your hips, and practicly your hole body, were moving like crazy, the drool droping fast, your nipples were so fucking erect, they felt like rocks against her warm mouth. you were going to cum, like hard, ellie could see it on your pretty face, feel it on your pounding, and definitely could hear it from your almost pornographic screams.
“cum on my dick beautiful, i got you, give me a little show” you started jumping hard on her strap, accidentally making the base of the plastic rub her clit too “fuck baby” you both started to make everything rougher and more intense, you felt the her dick going deeper and she could just get off with the show you were complete giving her, now the movement on her clit was too much.
“i’m yes, ellie, i love you! ahhh make me” her hips were knocking you out, your eyes were getting blurry, her sounds, her body, the look she was giving to you as she fucked you “yes! im cuming! fuck” ellie screamed with you when her strap slipped and hit you both just were you need it.
you both felt liquid coming out of your pussy, getting all over the strap and ellie’s clothes, you fell into her strong arms, both of you agitated and so fucking happy. she hugged you tight, she started to plant little kisses on your forehead and face.
“i love you baby” you smiled, she was such a softie, only you could see this part of her.
“i love you more” and only ellie could watch you all lovely and needy.
“ellie where the fuck are you?! we need you for the next song!” oh, maybe ellie had groupies bitches around her all the time, trying to fuck her but none of them were you, they could never get to her, not even fucking dressing up as you.
“they can fucking wait, i’m with my baby” you were everything the other needed, and even if you guys make it seemed like you were cool about it, but everybody knew you guys only belonged to each other, there was no place for anyone or anything else.
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