Tumgik
#but fuck having only tomorrow as my one -weekend- day this week
quiveringdeer · 11 months
Text
when you've been around ppl all day but need to grab something from the store so you sit in your car in the store parking lot trying to mentally gear yourself up to brave even more humans 😔
5 notes · View notes
stars-inthe-sky · 10 months
Text
UGH.
#went on my first real work trip in FOUR YEARS yesterday. had one meeting.#woke up this morning and was getting ready for a day of stuff with another one tomorrow#only to find out that one of the only five other people in the wednesday meeting just tested positive for covid#and another had found out she'd been separately exposed as well#so today turned into doing all my meetings on zoom and rearranging travel plans#and now instead of a professional thing i'd been really looking forward to and then a fun weekend add-on with the fam#i'm flying home late tonight to isolate in our third-floor guest room while boyfriend parents etc.#at least we got credit for his and bébé's last-minute flight cancellations#and we decided to leave the dog with the sitter that had already been arranged to just have one less thing on the collective plate for now#but UGH#and what's extra infuriating is that i am probably fine. i got boosted just a few weeks ago and wasn't like hugging anyone or whatever.#but you just don't know and when there's an actual case it's reason to be actually careful#and i'm just so exhausted and bummed about a lot of things already and had so been looking forward to this whole trip#best laid plans#as they say#anyway cross your fingers for me and the battery of rapid tests i'll be taking this weekend#and in addition to staying negative i'm also very concerned about whether anyone will be comfortable will me at thanksgiving#so that's a whole other thing#UGHHHHHHH#fucking#coronavirus
8 notes · View notes
reitziluz · 11 months
Text
thrashing furniture ripping down wallpaper throwing laptop out the window
realized i got stuck because the emotional flow is nonsense (or just. incredibly weak. things don't connect and flow properly. where's the focus, i don't know, it should be there somewhere to make the ending scene hit properly) and you know, it's good to not get stuck on finer details and just power through a draft, but also when you get stuck stuck it's likely stemming from an issue way upstream of where you got stuck, which is the emotional flow as i mentioned.
but.
i tracked it back all the way to the first paragraph. and ohhhh fucking shit hell it's bad and i don't know how to get it to work.
i don't want to expand the initial setup, but must, don't i? it just won't work if it's too dense, if i want to keep all the fun little stuff. and if i don't keep the fun stuff, what's even the point.
but fuck it's going to take so long to get to the juicy part at this rate
rip me
7 notes · View notes
m0onjellies · 5 months
Text
I have a week and a half of finals left and I am not making it through y’all 🙏
#I js finished my aps on Monday and ap studying is a whole different kind of beast#and so were finals last year#this year finals are light as fuck and that means I will not be studying much this week cuz I cannot get myself to take this shit seriously#like Monday? hell. ap gov and apah on one day#I had to cover 40 percent of apah on my own in the weekend before the exam cuz the teacher didn’t 😭#I also still had to review for gov#so I was spending like 18-20 hours a day on studying for those classes last weekend#and then taking the tests were fun but also horrible experiences#cuz of all the fucking writing#l got to near 20 pages of writing that day#and now I’m spending like an hour and a half max reviewing for anything#I have a final tomorrow and I’m so unserious about it#the only kinda stressful thing is Spanish and bio both being next Thursday#and ig math on Monday#but they’re still pretty light cuz I hv so much time to study#when we don’t hv tests it’s all study hall#so I’m just sitting in a room for 5 hrs working during school#and that’s more than enough time for those exams#like I just have to do 80ish practice problems and make flashcards for Spanish everyday until Sunday#and then I’m gonna check my math study guide on Sunday#and then continue studying Spanish flashcards every day leading up to next Thursday#other than that I have to make lang flashcards and study a bit for lang (prob like 2ish hours) next Monday#and like 6-7 hours of studying bio#like this is not that bad???#and I’m so excited for summer!!!#I alr have so many things prepped I wanna do!!#imma try to read for 24 hrs straight & draw more & get back into printmaking & do an internship & work on speech and debate#& volunteer at a library with my friends & study for next yr & learn to knit/crochet#& listen to music more & get back into piano fr & exercise#ares.txt
3 notes · View notes
kuromi-hoemie · 1 year
Text
bleh i wish hearing was something u could turn off 100% at will (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠;⁠) how am i overstimulated at 12:15am
4 notes · View notes
ironmanstan · 2 years
Text
one of these days my dad is gonna realize what my school schedule is in the meantime he will continue to exist adjacently to me and never in the same space
#guy who brags constantly about me getting into my program and didnt realize th school im going to is like good#until he told one girl and she recognized the name and freaked out#and now he wont fucking quit with it#meanwhile: keeps complaining its gonna get real old driving me to school and please please learn to drive#i have class. 3 days a week. technically 2 bc one class is online and i only go in that day really late in the afternoon lmfaoooo#does he know this. no not at all. has actually not asked a question about what im gonna be doing#instead keeps worrying i have no future and keeps asking what career i want to go into and also is it animation its animation right#why not animation... oh well maybe you can transfer into animation later : )#yeah ok. sure. why dont i transfer into animation so i can fucking smash a brick into my skull#screaming and dying he needs to go back to forgetting i am real he is paying too much attention to goings on now#idk how to relax and everything is coming up now and i feel like im dying slightly lmao. sitting at my desk working all weekend#working on what. who knows bc i hurt my shoulders too bad to do anything real. stressing myself out further for nothing#dies and explodes i should be excited and be doing fine but well lmao. lmao. i will probably feel better when i go in tomorrow#i dont know man ptsd brain is like nothing good can happen for long! standby for the other shoe to drop#and well it sure is coming to a head now bc getting in would be really. really good. so ofc the other shoe will drop right#i know it wont but my brain doesnt know that so fear sits in my whole body all day all night stress dream city baby#vent#ig#dies and explodes
3 notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 7 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
MAKE HIM DO WHAT I SAY ♡
pairing: older bf!!logan howlett x fem!reader
summary: you and logan make a little bet. who can last longer without sex? as much as he wants to deny it, he's starting to think the answer might be you.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, brief daddy kink (one mention)
a/n: a commission for my sweet @sleepyluxe who i love so very much <33 this fic takes place after the events of dofp when things are fixed.
Tumblr media
Seven days. One week. A quarter of a month. That's how long it had been since Logan and you had fucked.
It was brutal. Some may say he's being dramatic, but that's because they've never had the luxury of you. They couldn't understand losing a paradise they've never experienced. The past several days he's felt like a man wandering through a barren desert, the oasis in sight but never close enough to drink from. Absolute torture
Unfortunately, this situation came about because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.
You'd been getting some work done late last Sunday evening. Just a few plans for the upcoming school week. Your fingers punched away at your computer while Logan lay on the bed twirling a stray cigar between his fingers.
"How many more pages you got?" he asked, boosting his head up to glance at you.
At the sound of his voice, you spun your chair around to face him. "Not that many. Just finalizing a few details for the field trip they're taking the kids on next weekend," you said.
"You're not even going. Why're they making you do that?"
The fat stick of tobacco continued to glide between his digits. One of your legs crossed over the other as you watched him.
"I'm not going because I offered to do all the planning," you reminded him. 
Your eyes stayed on the tantalizing movements of his fingers.
"You know you can't smoke in here, so don't even think about it," you said.
He rolled his eyes and puffed air through his pursed lips as if that was an outrageous warning. Sitting up, he put the cigar back in the drawer on his side of the bed. He rose to his feet and began to cross the room in your direction.
"Maybe you should give me something else to do with my mouth then," he teased, his voice lowering to the octave that reverberated with want for you.
Then it was your turn to roll your eyes. You turned your chair back toward the desk and continued grazing your fingertips over the raised letters.
It didn't deter him though. He kept on in your direction, stopping only when he was directly behind the backing of your seat.
His hands landed on your shoulders, fingers massaging the tight muscles fanning out from your neck. He leaned forward so his head hovered beside yours. You could hear each breath he took. The smell of that cigar lingered around his form even if he hadn't lit up tonight.
"C'mon, babydoll. You've been working so hard. A little break won't hurt you," he murmured, lips pressing against your cheekbone.
"I have to have these done by tomorrow morning. Just give me a few minutes, and then I'll be done for the night and completely focused on you," you'd rebuffed him gently.
But that didn't satisfy Logan. When he wanted you, he got you. He proceeded with his tender touches and luring pecks. You remained focused on your work though. He figured he should vary his approach.
"Just let me make you feel good then, honey. Give you some extra motivation," he whispered. His dedicated hands drifted to your waist, squeezing in a way that teased the idea of lifting you up and putting you on his lap. As good as it would've felt to be full of him, you knew you had to get this done.
"You're so bad," you said with a smile, head falling back a little as his mouth moved to your neck, "You act like you haven't gotten any in decades."
"Is that your way of telling me you're getting tired of me?" he teased.
"No. I'm just saying you're insatiable. It's getting to the point where I don't think you could live without me," you responded with a tone matching his in arrogance.
His eyebrow raised, and he pulled back a little to laugh. "That so?"
"Mhm," you nodded. Your sweet eyes stared him down, begging him to disagree.
Looking back, he wishes he could travel through time again to slap any further words out of his mouth. He should've just agreed! Should've told you that you were absolutely right. That he can't live without you, can't survive this life if he doesn't get to slip inside of you at the end of each day. He should've waited the fifteen minutes it would've taken you to finish your paperwork and then gotten laid.
But he didn't do any of that. He had to keep going and dig himself into a deeper hole.
"Don't act so innocent, princess. You're just as bad as me," he'd said.
"No way," you'd huffed, smirking with amusement, "I want you a totally normal amount. You want me like every second of the day. If you could, I don't think you'd ever let me do anything. You'd probably keep me chained to the bed, yours for the taking at all times of the day.
"Like you wouldn't love that. I'm not the one pawing at you every morning, whining about how bad I need it," he taunted.
"Oh shut up, that's happened like a couple times. Every day you're right in my ear, feeling me up. You practically drag me away from what I'm doing when you wanna fuck," you fired back, "I am nowhere near as bad as you."
And then he'd spoken the three cursed words that launched him into this predicament.
"You wanna bet?"
You laughed more at that and nodded again. "Sure. Because I know I'll win."
And that unofficial vow of celibacy was why the two of you had been dancing around each other for the past week. He was starting to feel like that old love song counting the amount of time it'd been since he had you beneath him last. Fifteen hours and seven days or however it went.
You didn't make this trying time any easier for him either. That night he went to sleep with blue balls. The next morning, he woke up to you getting ready. You weren't dressed in your usual style of clothing though. Instead, you had on a dress, Logan's favorite dress of yours. You'd styled your hair real pretty too, letting it compliment your features in the best way.
As his heavy lids blinked open to consciousness, he watched you fasten a shimmering necklace over your collarbone. It sat just above the neckline of the chiffon fabric that adorned your bust.
You caught his waking eyes with your own in the reflective glass, turning to look at him with a bright smile. 
Despite his bleary vision, he could hear the light steps of you prancing over to him. The mattress dipped with your weight as you sat down and leaned in to kiss his forehead. Your fingers slid through his dark hair just the way he likes, with your nails scratching his scalp a little. Worst of all, that close, the scent of your perfume became all consuming. It hit him harder than normal. He wasn't sure if he should blame you or himself for predicting the trials of the coming days.
He hummed in acknowledgement of your presence and nuzzled into your palm.
"Hey, sleepyhead," you cooed, your voice extra soft and sweet. It was too caring to be seductive, but of course, that's where his mind went anyways.
"Hey, baby," he'd mumbled.
"I gotta go drop off that paperwork, but I'll see you later. I love you," you whispered in return before laying one more column of kisses from the tip of his nose back to his forehead.
Then you'd left, leaving him half-hard and yearning for you. A pattern that would plague him over the next week.
Each day it was some new form of torture. The day after that, you'd worked extra hard in the danger room, coming back to him at night covered in a light sheen of sweat. Your heady natural scent filled the bedroom in moments.
The following afternoon, you wanted to cuddle when you both had some free time. The fact that you draped your leg over his torso, slotting your clothed cunt right against his hip, inches away from his cock, was pure accident of course.
Over the last few days, your games have become less specific. You peppered your speech with innuendo. Looked at him with your fuck-me eyes and spoke in the tone you always used seconds before he ended up bending you over the nearest surface.
He tried to fight back, he really did. He stopped wearing a shirt in your shared room. Every time he talked to you, he made sure to rub your ass or stroke your cheek. He was so desperate he stooped to embarrassing levels of lovey-dovey when the two of you were alone. But no matter what he tried, it seemed like you'd been right. Of your pair, you had the superior restraint.
With each passing hour, his frustration grew.
Today, it reaches its zenith.
The mansion is empty because it's Sunday. All the students and other teachers are out on the trip to the observatory today. You and Logan are the only remaining residents in the school. He ended up not having to tag along with the rest of the group after volunteering to fix the sprinklers bordering the school's patio. Babysitting kids had never been his forte even with all the practice he gets at it now. Simple handiwork he could do no problem.
The two of you take the morning to sleep in. This was a rare occasion where no early meetings or classes occupied your schedules. You stay tangled up together well past sunrise.
Logan is the first to leave the warmth and comfort of your embrace. He pulls himself from the nest of pillows and blankets, stretching his limbs out as he does. He rubs the tiredness from his features before rising and heading to the wardrobe to pull on some clothes.
In addition to his normal black t-shirt and jeans, he grabs the tool belt on his way out to the lawn. He slings it around his hips before walking through the back door. Heading past the basketball court and rows of hedges, he finds the line of leaking sprinklers besides them. It would probably take him a while given that he had to first identify the source of the problem and then recalibrate all of them with the adjustment.
He sighs but gets to work. At least he'd have a distraction from the desires haunting him.
Crouching in the dewy grass next to the little faucets, he begins examining the hard plastic shells. To his surprise, scanning for breaks does attach his mind to the task and give him a brief reprieve. It's quiet outside. Besides a small chirp from a distant bird or a grunt out of him, no other sounds echo over the open space. The sun shines in the sky, but it's not beating down on him. The air tickles his skin with warmth but not to the point of being miserably humid.
All the conditions meet in the perfect middle to keep him calm. It's the most peace he's had since he agreed to this bet between the two of you.
But all that tranquility is shattered about a half hour later when he hears the patter of footsteps against the stone pathway. From around the tall thicket of green foliage, comes you. Your face breaks out into a smile the second you burst into his vision. He would look the same if not for what you'd decided to wear.
You trot over to him across the grass in a pair of tiny black shorts with lacy frills on the hems. They sway with each of your movements, highlighting the shape of your legs. A gray camisole graces your upper half; a delicate white bow sits at the center of the collar, dead center between your breasts. The fit of the garment displays the contour of your chest just right. He feels like he's gonna start drooling before you make it near.
Despite his reaction, the outfit wasn't that provocative. It wasn't like you'd strutted out in lingerie. But he was so pent up that a flash of your ankle in the proper lighting could probably get him hard.
Bounding up to him, you wrap his body in a tight hug. Every curve of your form presses up against him.
"Look at you, working so hard," you praise playfully with a kiss to his cheek.
He laughs it off, returning the hug in an attempt to be normal, so you wouldn't see how vulnerable he was right now, how this was the perfect opportunity to strike. He couldn't let you know that in this moment, he could easily become the prey.
"Were you missing me already?" he asks, rubbing his free hand up and down your spine.
"Mhm. Woke up and you were gone," you reply. You nuzzle the crook of his neck, planting a few electric kisses on his skin.
"I didn't wanna wake you. You're pretty cute when you're sleeping," he mutters.
"Well now I'm gonna be cute out here with you," you say and pull back. You peck his lips one more time before plopping down in the grass behind him.
He glances back at you to see what that means. All you're doing is sitting there. Your legs extend out in front of you, straightened for his eyes to rake over. You lean back with your palms against the moist greenery below you.
"You don't got anything better to do with your day off?" he asks.
That earns him a small pout. "If you want me to leave, I will. I just wanna spend time with you."
He can tell by your tone that your intentions aren't so innocent. You're leading him into allowing your presence. But denying his girlfriend has never been one of the wolverine's strengths so of course, he acquiesces.
"Relax. I'm not telling you to go anywhere," he says as he turns back to his work, "I just don't think this will be that interesting to you."
"Watching you do anything is interesting to me," you joke back.
He rolls his eyes and gets back to work.
At first, things are smooth as before. He continues messing with the small, bendy pipes. You're quiet behind him. Almost too quiet, but he lets it go for now since he thinks he's found the source of the malfunction.
It doesn't take long to patch up. The more difficult part is going to each individual head and fixing the tightness. His fingers twist the little knobs to the correct settings. He then turns to you when he's finally done.
The sight of you feels like a gust of fresh air filling his lungs. You're laid out where you were before, but you've reclined across the ground. One of your arms is sprawled outwards, soaking up the sunlight while the other lazily covers your eyes. Your shadow outlines your figure against the emerald blades below you.
You look luscious and ripe, like a precious fruit ready to be picked and devoured. In any other circumstance, that's exactly what he'd do. He'd spread you out further for him and take you apart piece by piece. He wanted your nectar running down his chin with each savoring lap of his tongue. He craved the feeling of your heat wrapped around him, your walls massaging his shaft during every punishing thrust.
Imagining it now only gets the blood pumping down South to his hardening length.
He runs a hand over his hair and sighs. Why didn't he do that now? What was the point of this stupid fucking contest? It's not like there was anything on the line. The only stake was his pride, which to be honest, he'd already compromised for you multiple times over the course of your relationship.
Unbuckling the leather from his waist, he discards the tool belt. Next he peels his shirt from his body and tosses it to the side.
He makes his way to you on the grass. He drops to his knees and leans forward. His muscular frame cages you in against the ground. Starting at your navel, he drags his nose up your body. He coasts over the valley between your breasts and past your collar bone. His soft exhales breeze across your throat before he finally reaches your cheek. With a gentle pull, he clears your arm from your face.
Your eyes flutter to adjust to the sunlight beaming down on them again. They take in the vision of him so close to you and the way he gazes down with adoration.
"Hey, pretty girl," he says, his voice much softer than it'd been before, "You falling asleep on me?"
His thumb rubs over your jawline while the other strokes the crown of your head. A smile blooms across your lips. You can't help it with how he's behaving.
"No... well, maybe a little. I think you were right. Sprinklers are pretty boring," you say.
He grins and leans in to kiss your lips. With the exchange he hopes to communicate everything he doesn't want to say. I give up. You win.
You reach up and cup his scruffy cheeks. Your tongue swipes against his lips, sensing his longing for intimacy. He allows you in, and you deepen the connection. A long breath oozes from your nostrils.
He presses you down against the ground further as your hands slide over the little white streaks in his hair. Your fingers embed themselves in his locks. You feel his hands sliding down your body. They stop at your hips and give the plush flesh a squeeze.
It's obvious what he wants, but in case there was any doubt, his digits then hook around the top of your shorts and give them a tug.
A giggle bubbles up out of you against his mouth. You pull back to look at him with smug eyes.
"Is that your way of admitting I was right?" you ask.
He grumbles and ducks his head down to start kissing your neck. "Don't get cocky or I'll change my mind."
That makes you laugh more. You yank on his hair and pull him back up to look at you. 
"No you won't," you tease and brush your noses together. Looking into his eyes again, you can see how bad he wants this. "Just say it."
"Say what?"
"Say you're giving in. And that I win. And that you can't live without me."
He gives you a blank stare. Silently, he contemplates if there's any way around this. He wonders if there's a way he can avoid utter humiliation.
"C'mon, baby. Throw an old dog a bone," he grumbles.
Giggling, you shake your head. "Nuh uh. I wanna hear you say it."
He sighs and rolls over, pulling you on top of him. You straddle his hips with learned ease. Your smile glows from this angle. The sunlight above cascades over your frame and only further accentuates your body in your tight clothes. He rubs his hands up and down your sides. His dick is already at half-mast under the denim that covers his lower body. Your heat rests right on top of it, teasing him through the barriers of cloth. It dangles what he could have if he gives you what you want right before him.
The words that challenged you and created this trap for himself came out so easy. Why couldn't these be the same?
To coax him along, you grind down the slightest bit. The pressure's so light and gentle, a mere graze of your mound on the outline of his growing bulge. He hisses at the feeling.
"Just admit it," you say, planting your palms on his chest, "Just say I was right and you were wrong."
He watches you above him, knowing you're not going to drop this. If he wanted this self-invoked dry spell to end, he'd have to make it happen.
You roll your hips down with more force, impatient to hear him comply with your request. A small whimper leaks out of you. He can tell from that sound alone that you're getting worked up. That arousal is beginning to collect between your thighs.
The thought of it makes his need for you almost biological. His hands clamp around your waist and press you down harder. He rocks his up a little to meet your own movements.
"I need you so bad, princess," he sighs, his eyes shutting as he takes in the dull pleasure of you on top of him.
"Then you can say what I told you," you tease.
"What was it again?" he asks as he continues dragging your covered pussy back and forth along his now fully hard shaft.
"Say you're giving in. That I win. And that you can't live without me," you remind him, visibly proud of your victory.
With a sigh, he repeats, "I'm giving in. You win. I can't live without you."
You smile and laugh as if it was the best thing you'd ever heard. Your head falls back with glee before coming up so you can see his face again.
"Actually, can you say that again? I'm gonna grab my phone. That way I can film it this time. I just wanna have a record-" you continue to tease, but you're cut off by your own squeal when he grabs you and flips you back over onto your back. He keeps you quiet by smashing his lips against yours as your back thuds against the grass.
This kiss burns hotter than the last one. His mouth moves with bruising passion as he pulls your shorts down your legs for real. You help him by kicking them loose. His hands roam around over your smooth skin.
He glances down and finds what he thought he felt. No panties.
Eyes flitting back up to you, he shakes his head. "You were gonna give in anyways," he accuses.
"Yeah, but you gave in first," you giggle.
A small growl rumbles in his chest, but he still leans in to pull your tank top up. He brings it across your stomach, letting your breasts fall free as he bunches the material above them. He cups the plump flesh, taking a look at the beauty he holds in his palms. You watch him in the fleeting interval in which you're forced to separate.
"So... since I win, what do I get?" you continue to gloat.
"My dick inside you," he answers as his fingers yank his zipper open and shove down his pants in a similar fashion to your shorts.
"But I'm gonna get that anyways. I think I should get a real prize," you say, aiming to stoke the flames higher.
Your hips get hauled closer across the grass, so fast that you're in danger of having green smeared across your skin.
"I don't think you'll be complaining in a few minutes, ya little brat," he mumbles.
His fist pumps over his cock as he lines it up between your legs. The leaky tip smears some precum over your folds before he slides inside. He groans as he sinks in, cherishing the feeling after the week of its absence.
You're quick to adjust to the stretch. With a sharp breath, your back arches off the grass. He had already snapped back and slammed in again. You knew he wouldn't be patient after being deprived of this. Watching him above you, your eyes study how his chest puffs in and out with harsh breaths. His strong arms extend down on either side of your head, his fists holding clumps of grass between them. 
It's a gorgeous view, but you know it can't beat the feeling.
"Closer..." you whine and grab at his shoulders, pulling him down so he's right on you and smothering your body against the turf, "Missed you, old man."
"How many times have I told you to quit it with that?" he asks as his pelvis begins setting a rhythm.
"Enough to know that I'm never gonna," you say. It's the last thing you can get out before moans shatter your plans to speak.
His warm flesh pounds against yours over and over. Your body rocks with the bounce of him on top of you. It feels so good. The world feels bright again, like you'd transitioned from an existence of black and white to living in color. It was so open out here but also so empty. Like you and him were the only two people on earth.
Your voice tapers off. Words become second to whimpers of pleasure. His hands grope the swell of your ass before returning to your sides for steady leverage.
"We'll have to work on that then," he grunts, "If you're not gonna stop, I'll just have to make sure you can't speak at all."
You preen at the idea, clutching at his muscular shoulders and back. He pants right next to your ear. Each stroke drives deep into you, brushing a spot that had ached for him to touch it again.
"Never wanna go that long again," you babble around whines.
"Me neither, baby. Think you were right. Not being able to feel this pretty little pussy every day almost killed me," he says.
A rush of euphoria flows through you upon hearing that. Your moans become more breathy, more full of need for him. You grab one of his wrists and tug his hand off your hip, pushing it in between your legs.
He knows what you want. His fingers apply some pressure and rub at your swollen bundle of nerves. Immediately, he's rewarded with a whine out of you and a buck from your hips.
"Impatient," he huffs between a set of deep thrusts.
"I won," you retort, "I get to do what I want."
Even in the heat of the moment, he chuckles at your petulant tone. His hips keep rutting against you on the grass. He's sure his next task of yard-work will be covering the mysterious indents in the soil out here.
"I needa cum, Logan," you whine several seconds later, "So close."
"Yeah? You need it, sweetheart? Need to let it out after keeping it from me for so long?"
Your head bobs up and down in an enthusiastic nod. "Please, please, please."
"Well, it's like you said. You won. So I think you can finish when you're ready."
"Mmmm- o- ok..." you whimper out.
Your hips roll up and down to reciprocate the fast pace of his own. He's battering right up against that special spot inside you that makes your mind blank and your eyes gloss up.
With a handful of whimpers, you cum. Your face scrunches as your cunt tightens around him. His fingers keep up the same rhythm on your clit, swirling around the little bud through your pleasure high.
"That's my girl," he praises, "Let it all out for daddy."
Your body seizes up at that command. Every cell of your being somehow knows to obey. You stumble over words and let them leave your lips half formed.
He keeps driving into you as you're coming down, chasing his own release. You're well into the territory of overstimulation now, all parts of you fizzling like a lit sparkler.  Your thighs quiver against his sides violently. They lock around his waist when you finally feel him slam in and drain himself.
A loud groan erupts from him. He makes no effort to restrain it given that only the two of you are here to hear it. He fucks it into you, ricocheting himself against your center a couple more times and letting every last drop pour into your dripping hole.
When he feels sated, at least for the moment, he reluctantly pulls out. He takes a couple deep breaths as he watches a bit of his cum ooze out of you. It didn't matter though. That wouldn't be the last load you took today.
His body topples over next to yours on the natural ground. You both lie there for a few moments catching your breath before you roll onto your side to look at him.
You just stare for a few moments. Your eyes roam along the shape of his face to the slope of his jaw and the curve of his chest. Leaning in, you kiss the space below his ear.
He responds to the touch by curling his arm around your waist and pulling you to his side.
His head turns to meet your loving gaze.
"I think we have some more time to make up for," he says.
You respond with an eager nod and hop up to your feet. Both of you pull on the basics of the clothes you'd been wearing before and rush back into the mansion, giggling as you stumble through the halls like a couple of lovesick teenagers.
The door to your room stays shut for the rest of the day. You spend the remaining hours you have enmeshed in each other; intertwined with him enough to recover from the lack you'd put yourself through.
Logan doesn't venture beyond the barrier of your shared sanctuary until the sun has gone down and darkness coats the halls of the mansion.  He walks quietly, taking his steps carefully to ensure none of the wooden planks beneath him creak.
All he had to do was go downstairs and grab you some water. In and out. Five minutes. But as he rounds the turn into the room, Scott's already there, looking through the fridge. He freezes and stands there awkwardly in his black tank top and loose sweatpants.
Having heard the sounds of his footsteps, the other man glances over at him. 
"There you are. Didn't see you around when I got back," he says simply.
Logan shrugs, trying to play it casual. He walks across the room toward the cupboard that holds the glasses. The other man's eyes follow him. He can feel that even through the scarlet shades on his face.
"Haven't seen your other half either," Scott continues.
Logan can tell from the tone of his voice where this is going. 
"Don't call her that," he scoffs, forever downplaying his attachment to you, "She's tired. She's upstairs sleeping."
"On her day off? I wonder what would have her so drained," Scott replies. His tone is flat in contrast to the little smirk on his face.
"Don't start," Logan says. He goes to the fridge to fill your cup with water. The trickle of the fluid is the only sound in the room until Scott keeps going.
"I didn't say anything," he says, raising his hands in surrender, "Only that this is the best mood you've been in all week."
"A couple hours without you around does wonders for me," Logan grumbles, wishing the liquid would pour a little faster.
"I'm sure. A couple hours with no one else around. Just the two of you after you've both been stiff the whole week," he taunts, "It's ok to admit you're whipped."
Finally, the cup is full. Logan takes it and turns away, holding one finger up as he walks from the kitchen.
"See you tomorrow, Scott."
"Yeah. Tell her if she's feeling sore, she can skip the early meeting," he says with a little laugh.
4K notes · View notes
kon-konk · 1 year
Text
What's the point of a job having an availability option if they're just gonna ignore it?
1 note · View note
hannieehaee · 5 months
Text
18+ / mdi
Tumblr media Tumblr media
content: bff'sbrother!jungkook, softdom!jungkook, enemies2lovers-ish, he's a lil annoying in this, angst, mentions of rejection, one-sided crush, afab reader, smut, fingering, dry humping, penetrative sex, overstimulation (kinda), etc.
wc: 4076
a/n: another jk fic bc im taking time off work and have nothing to do</3 this went longer than anticipated lol sorry
masterlist
"what are you doing here?", grumbled the man as soon as he opened the door and spotted you on the other side of it.
"can you get out of the way? i'm obviously here for minji."
"she doesn't get here til tomorrow," he responded, though still moving out of the way to let you in.
you were about to snark at him again when he stopped in his tracks, eyes widening when they made contact with the suitcases you were struggling to drag behind you, "why are you carrying suitcases? fuck, don't tell me you're staying here," he grabbed onto one, stopping your movements.
"yes, jungkook. minji told me i could crash here for spring break. what's it to you? your house is big enough. just ignore my presence," you attempted to move your suitcases again, knowing you'd receive no help from the boy even if you asked.
"so you're here to ruin my break?" the complaints were never ending despite having entered the home only mere moments ago.
"stop being a child and get out of my way," you grumbled when the idiot refused to remove his hand from the handle of your suitcase.
he let out a heavy sigh, scrunching his eyes closed in annoyance before speaking again, "okay, move. i'll bring your shit upstairs."
"no, i can-"
"you can't carry all this upstairs. my mom's gonna be mad if i don't offer to help you. just let go," he muttered, pushing your hands away and somehow lifting both suitcases at once as he walked towards the stairs.
without any energy to argue with him, you just followed him upstairs, annoyed he insisted to pretend to do you a favor.
"are your parents home?", you asked, confused as to why he had been the one to open the door.
"no, they went out of town this weekend. they should be here tonight."
"why are you here?"
you knew this was his home, but it was a valid question. this had been the third time you'd spent some sort of school break at minji's house, yet jungkook had never been there during the duration of it, usually only popping up for a day or two by the end of each break.
"you mean in my house?", he chuckled sarcastically.
"you're never here- you know what i meant."
"didn't have any plans this time. why? am i ruining your break?"
the two of you finally made it to the extra guest room in minji's house, with jungkook settling your stuff on the bed and uncharacteristically taking a seat on it, as if planning to hang around. you ignored the thought and went to open your suitcase, planning to unpack a few of the things since you'd be staying for over a week.
"yeah," you deadpanned.
he scoffed, "not like i wanna spend my break with you either, princess."
groaning, you threw a folded shirt at him, "ew, i told you not to call me that."
seemingly pleased at having annoyed you, he chuckled and picked up the shirt you threw, folding it and placing it on the bed. he continued to occasionally grab one thing or another as you unpacked. you always knew jungkook to be quite fidgety, so you didn't question him grabbing your stuff to entertain himself as you unpacked.
jungkook wordlessly stayed on your bed as you went around the room organizing your stuff, attempting to ignore his presence but not entirely able to. you were willing to retain peace without complaining, but then he started making noise.
you usually didn't care for his presence too much, even as badly as the two of you got along, but the constant humming quickly got on your nerves. he hummed and hummed and did not stop even as ten minutes passed by, still taking stuff from your suitcase to fidget with. currently he was entertaining himself with a random shoe.
"jungkook! why are you still here?", you suddenly snapped, confused as to why he'd been sitting on your bed with a blank look on his face despite usually being liberal in expressing his dislike for you.
he looked at you for a few moments, no emotion on his face before speaking up.
"why don't we get along?"
"what?"
"you heard me. why don't we get along? you've been friends with my sister since childhood, but you've always hated me. why?"
"you started it," you murmured, taking the shoe he currently had in his hold and turning around to place it somewhere else.
he got up, walking over to you and turning you around by your shoulders and taking the shoe from you again, "i started it? what are you talking about? you've been rude to me since the seventh grade. i've just been returning the favor."
sighing in frustration, you grabbed shook his hands off your shoulders and stubbornly grabbed the shoe again, "why do you think that is, jungkook?"
a confused look overtook his face at your insinuation of your relationship being his fault, clearly not remembering what you were referring to.
"wha-what are you talking about?"
"god, you're such a dumbass sometimes. i mean, i assumed you didn't remember, but to have confirmation of it just kinda sucks," you chuckled bitterly.
he grabbed onto your shoulders again when you tried to walk past him, "tell me what you're talking about," he insisted.
for the most part, you didn't want to. you still felt embarrassed thinking about it, even if it had been over a decade since it had happened. to know he really didn't remember the source of your dislike for him also didn't really help matters. it just frustrated you at his presence even more.
through the years you had learned not to take the mutual banter too seriously. it was mostly lighthearted, to be honest. but any time you thought back to how it had started, you became beyond angry at the boy who was seemingly nice too all those he knew but you. sure, you had technically been the one to source this animosity, but he bad been the instigator of it after all.
you had been nine years old at the time, having recently moved into town and befriended minji. she had been your salvation, becoming instantly interested in being your friend despite you being brand new. you became quick friends, hanging out inside and outside school almost every day.
minji had the good fortune of being extremely close to her family, which allowed you to bond with them quite a lot. that was when you met her older brother, one of her favorite people in the world.
jungkook had been pure perfection in your young eyes, seeing him as unattainable at the young age of nine. he was two years your senior, which made you come to the quick realization that your crush would remain one-sided forever. except this didn't stop your naive heart to read into his nice demeanor and wishfully believe that maybe he'd like you back.
you crushed on him silently for three years, even coming to befriend him in the process. you wouldn't see him too often, but it was always nice when you did, always getting along quite well. this continued up until you hit twelve years of age, your tweenhood years. unfortunately, jungkook was now into his teens, meaning that he followed the footprints of every other man and had a short-lived phase where he was a bit insensitive to girls his age.
being completely delusional and being on your way to graduate middle school, you took a leap, deciding to invite jungkook as your date to your middle school prom. you had thought you read all the signs right, thinking that even if he rejected you, he'd still be nice enough to go with you as a friend. your hopes were completely crushed when he turned you down with zero hesitance, even patronizing you in the process.
the worst part of it all came later, when you were first entering high school. somehow a few of his friends had gotten word of the situation, dubbing you as desperate and obsessed with him. although the rumors died pretty quickly, and you were able to feign indifference to jungkook and everyone else, the seed of hate began to grow in you. little by little, you stopped speaking to jungkook altogether, eventually coming to proudly dislike him. despite minji's constant questioning about your change in demeanor towards her brother, you never told, not wanting any drift to be caused between you and minji, nor her and her brother.
the gradual change in your feelings for jungkook had been so natural that it made sense for him to not remember the source of the current state of your relationship. he had caught on naturally, simply bantering back with you whenever you gave him attitude. it was likely that he believed it all to be lighthearted at first, eventually becoming accustomed enough to it to not question it.
and now you were here, having to explain a stupid childhood heartbreak to the perpetrator of it all as he stared down at you in absolute wonder.
"eighth grade, jungkook. remember?"
he shook his head in confusion, his eyes still wide as his brain wracked itself to remember.
"the dance?"
"the dance? what dan- oh! the- the dance? that's it?"
'that's it'?
he mustve caught the look of annoyance in your face, as he quickly went to retract himself.
"fuck, wait. i didn't mean it like that, just- is that why you hate me? because i said no to you?"
you took a step away from him again, still frustrated, but his arms remained on your shoulders so you would keep looking right at him. it was awkward and extremely uncomfortable considering the context, but you didn't move away.
"it wasn't just that, jungkook," you started, "was it that horrible of a thought to go to the dance with me? i was twelve, you couldve been nicer about it. and to tell your friends about it? i was mocked for weeks after that. and now you wanna act like this is my fault? like ive just been mean to you for no reason?", you scoffed, looking at your feet in favor of not having to look at him.
"wait, who ... who made fun of you? i- i never told anyone what happened. why would i do that?"
"jungkook, stop. taehyung? jimin? they wouldn't stop bringing it up for weeks. it died down after a while, but i was already humiliated."
he shook his head and denial, seemingly at himself. finally letting go of you, he sat back on the bed, look of confusion still on his face before a lightbulb metaphorically manifested itself above his head.
"oh fuck," he muttered, "i- i remember now, but it didn't go down the way you think, okay? let me explain."
you crossed your arms and nodded, signaling for him to continue.
he uncrossed his arms, running them through his hair in a frustrated fashion before he began to explain, oddly passionate as he did so, "i told them right after it happened. i felt so bad for saying no to you, they noticed how down i was about it and asked. i swear i didnt say anything bad. fuck, i never knew they teased you about it, im so sorry," he rambled, "and i didnt- i didnt mean to make you feel bad when i said no. you're my sister's best friend and- and you were so young. i know it doesnt matter anymore, but saying yes felt wrong. it felt like id be taking advantage of you somehow."
"jungkook-"
"if it makes you feel better," he hesitated before continuing, "i, uh, i kinda had a crush on you when we were 17. i- i was going to ask you to my prom, but you picked a fight with me that day and told me to get the fuck out. thats, that's kinda when i started to hate you back," he smiled awkwardly towards the end.
that took you for a bit of a loop. you weren't a heartless asshole. it wasnt like you meant to hurt him through your dislike of him, but rather protect yourself from further rejection. it made you feel bad to know that you'd somewhat done a similar thing to him at some point, even verbally berating him time after time when his intentions hadn't been malicious.
"are you serious?"
"do you really hate me? for what i did, i mean," he interrupted.
did you? for the most part, you had just grown far too used to your animosity with jungkook. due to your own mean behavior towards him, he became equally as rude, creating a vicious cycle of disrespect between the two of you. but did you hate him?
the answer was probably not.
if you did, your heart wouldn't have jumped at the mention of him having had a crush on you back when you were seventeen.
"no, i don't hate you. do you?"
he turned to you, shaking his head, "of course not," he confirmed, "do you wanna start over?", he asked, getting up from the bed and walking over to you.
you couldn't help but chuckle at his sudden proposal. you also couldnt help in nodding in agreement, confirming that yes, you'd be willing to put aside a petty middle school misunderstanding in favor of starting over.
then he opened his arms, gesturing for a hug before asking for permission for one, "hug?"
wordlessly, you accepted the offer of a friendly hug, reasoning that it was only natural considering how touchy he was with everyone other than yourself.
when you went to pull away, his arms tightened around you, head burying itself further into your hair, "just a little longer," he murmured.
with no reason to deny him, you wrapped your arms around him once more, only letting go when he started to slowly pull away.
that's when you made the mistake of looking up at him as he attempted to make himself let go of you.
seemingly, he had made the same mistake, now locking eyes with you at a proximity far too close for two people who hated each other just mere minutes ago. stupidly enough, your eyes predictably went down to his lips, not realizing his own had done the same. the only difference was that he was far more daring than you, allowing his lips to lower down onto yours and envelop them in a soft kiss.
greedy hands dug into your hips before making their way to your waist, holding you as close to him as he could. your own hands wrapped around his shoulders, moving to play with his hair as soon as the kiss turned more heated.
moaning against him, he pulled away for a second, still keeping his lips entirely too close to your own as he breathed through his nose to calm himself down. the following kiss was even more harrowing, causing you to take a step back due to the sheer force of it. he walked you back, pressing you up against the nearest wall as he took advantage of being able to crowd you, allowing his hands to get a feel of your body as you kissed.
despite how pathetically you followed his lips, he still pulled away, throwing his shirt off before going back to kissing you, letting his hands wander underneath your own shirt as he did so. his hands dug deep under your shirt, feeling up your bare breasts and groaning at the lack of bra.
gradually, his lips made their way to your ear and then down your neck, murmuring against your skin.
"fuck, so fucking pretty ... and so needy for me, huh? sound so good moaning for me like that," he breathed against you.
you burned up, embarrassed by how easily he had an effect on you, but you still let him do whatever he wanted, knowing that nothing you did would prevent your body from wanting his touch.
throwing off your shirt, his lips trailed down even further south, latching onto your nipples and groaning into your skin at the way you arched your body, pressing up even closer to him.
but suddenly there was a shift.
jungkook halted his movements, making his way back up to your lips and locking them with his own in a heavy and greedy kiss, resulting in a lack of breath from both of you. against your lips, he whispered something that made your knees buckle.
"i'm gonna pay you back for all those times you were mean to me, baby," his lips moved to your ear, chuckling at your anticipatory shudder, "gonna do whatever i want with this pretty body, yeah?"
nodding pathetically, you gave way for him to do anything he wanted. already drenched, there was no way you could possibly formulate any words that didn't come out as an embarrassing whine. he seemed to enjoy this too, holding a pleased smirk in his face as he easily dragged you over to the bed, pushing off your suitcase and dropping you on it with a bounce.
before you could even think, jungkook had already thrown off his shoes and undone his pants, his hands coming to do the same to you. your shaky hands attempted to help him, but he simply tsk'd at you, letting you know that he'd take care of everything tonight. everything, he emphasized.
"oh, fuck," he groaned once you were fully nude, "this is all mine now, yeah? fuck, been waiting for years for you to stop being a brat and let me have this pretty body all to myself," he kissed your lips between each sentence, "might lose control at how gorgeous and mine it is ..." he murmured as his hands took their rightful place exploring your body.
"kook-" you whined, already wanting him to do something – anything.
"shh, baby," he coo'd, "i'm gonna do whatever i want. and you're gonna take it like a good girl, okay? gonna behave for me for once."
fully crawling on top of you, jungkook went back to making out with you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he began humping against your already soaked cunt.
groaning, he pulled away for a second in favor of nibbling softly at your lip, "oh, this pretty pussy's so fucking soaked already ... thought you hated me, baby, what happened?" he chuckled darkly, giving you no room to answer before shoving his tongue in your mouth.
just as his tongue attempted to suck all air out of you, his hand suddenly snuck between your bodies, finding your cunt with ease and beginning to drag his fingers up and down your folds, not giving you want you needed.
"pretty fucking pussy," he murmured, "gonna play with your clit now, baby. it's gonna cry for me by the time im done."
his fingers found your clit almost immediately, taking turns in rubbing teasing circles over it and hammering in and out of your cunt. he swallowed every single moan, groaning against your lips any time your cries went so high they went straight to his cock.
"that good, pretty? so good that you have to cry for more? oh, baby. you're so lucky this pussy's so fucking cute. lucky i cant control myself around you ..."
"f-faster, please ..."
"faster? oh, like this?", his fingers slowed down drastically, barely stimulating you at all as you cried and clawed at his back, whining for more than he seemed willing to give you.
"n-no! please, just- just wanna cum, kookie. please?"
his fingers curled entirely too well at your cry of his nickname, even making him groan when he felt your own reaction to his fingers. it was clear he liked you crying out for him, so the more you did it, the more of his fingers he gave you, leading you to the verge of an orgasm.
afraid he'd try and deny you just for sadistic means, you cried for him prematurely, begging him to let you cum.
"kookie, p-please, please let me cum, i-i'll do anything. i'll give you anything, just, fuck, please!"
there was not a single care in you about how pathetic and out of character you sounded, not when jungkook's wasnt faring any better at the effect your desperation had on him.
"cum. cum for me, baby. wanna feel that cunt cream around my fingers so i can fill it back up with my own, okay? be good for me and- fuck, and cum ..." as much as he wanted to be in charge and show a dominant side to him, your cunt just kept dragging his fingers back in, making him feel a carnal need to steal your orgasm all for himself and many others after this one.
your hand wrapped around his free wrist, needing it as support as an otherworldly orgasm took over you. back arching and eyes rolling back, you became a sight that jungkook had only ever seen in his most depraved of dreams about you. he was surprised at his cock not bursting upon such an arousing view, making him realize that he needed to fuck you as soon as posible before losing his mind.
despite talking you through your orgasm, jungkook still gave you no time to recover before shoving his tongue in your mouth and grabbing his dick to drag up and down your sensitive folds.
crying against him, you attempted to push him away at first, feeling too sensitive for immediate stimulation, but your body gave up quickly after, melting into the overload of pleasure. tears crowded in your eyes, but your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, needing more of that pressure against your cunt.
taking the hint and far too horny to drag this out any longer, he pushed inside you, groaning against you at the feeling of finally being wrapped around your warmth.
"it's so fucking wet ... oh, fuck. you wanted this so bad, didnt you, baby? fucking soaked and just pulling me in ... it's so- so tight n warm n perfect for me," he babbled, lost in pleasure.
jungkook's hips were restless against yours, an insatiable desire to chase for his pleasure taking over him as the sound of skin slapping made him dizzy. the occasional babble accompanied by a pitiful hiccup that came out of you did not help his situation, making him fear that he might cum before you.
"let- let me just get my finger there- yeah, fuck. just gonna rub that tiny little clit, okay? shit, you just tightened around my cock so fucking good ..." he groaned, thumb circling your clit to accelerate your orgasm.
"g-gonna, fuck, gonna cum ... p-please ... with me? cum with me?" you begged, barely able to get a single coherent word out while jungkook showed no mercy against you.
nodding, he kissed you, promising he'd cum – begging you to cum. counting you down, he whispered against your ear while his hips stuttered messily against your own, now completely overtaken by both yours and his orgasm.
the sounds shared between the two of you were nothing short of shameful, consisting of whines and cries filled with desperation. it was a depraved scene only meant for the two of you to enjoy.
pulling out of you proved to be a challenge, as jungkook would happily remained inside you until his last breath, but the thought of holding you innocently in his arms as you caught your breath was something he did not want to miss out on.
and so he held you against him, crowding your face against his chest so you could lay your head right by his heart.
"that was-"
"yeah," he breathed with a chuckle before turning to you with a boyish smile on his face, "i have a confession to make."
you turned around too, unable to not match his smile, "what is it?"
"i lied earlier. i, uh, i did like you when you were seventeen, but ... i kinda still like you."
it was impossible not to feel your face warm up at this, scrunching up your nose at how cutely he had confessed, "what if i said it was mutual?"
his smile somehow got bigger at that, "then i'd say i'm gonna have to steal you away from my sister," he pulled you into his chest again, enjoying the vibrations of your laugh.
a/n: this was rushed and not proofread sorry</3
3K notes · View notes
knightjpg · 3 months
Text
Brick by Brick
You have his favourite tea on hand. You ask him what he'd like for dinner this weekend. One time you opened the door for him within seconds of buzzing, like you'd been as eager for his visit as he was.  And maybe most devastating of all: you routinely start making too much food for even Simon to finish. 
tags: 🔞construction worker simon/neighbour reader, unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), size kink, brief mention of simon's childhood abuse
part 1 | part 2
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
After that things shift, just a little. You still sit with Simon while he works, handing him tools he teaches you the names of; still try to convince him to get pay for his work around the house. 
But you have his favourite tea on hand. You ask him what he'd like for dinner this weekend. One time you opened the door for him within seconds of buzzing, like you'd been as eager for his visit as he was. 
And maybe most devastating of all: you routinely start making too much food for even Simon to finish. 
“Thought you might want some leftovers for lunch,” you tell him, holding out two tupperware boxes. “If you're working those long hours you have to eat right, you know?” 
When Simon opens them at home, just before tucking them away in his work bag for tomorrow, his chest clenches. It's not just leftovers. There's dried beef jerky, a pack of crackers that go well with coffee, and a fist-sized chunk of banana bread. And— 
A little note. 
His heart hammers against his chest when he unfolds it. It's nearly dark out, crickets chirping soft and low somewhere beneath the window. The only sound in his kitchen is the ticking of a clock. 
Good luck today! Don't work too hard :)  
“Christ,” he mumbles, fingers tracing over the ink. Pretty. Like you. Like every fucking thing you do. 
Summer is nearing its end, and Simon is running out of excuses. Part of him feels proud to see the house shape up to the best it can be, but over the months the boxes have nearly all disappeared. He knows—has helped you unpack God knows how many books. Helped you put together a new bookcase, even. 
But if he's no longer useful, what's keeping you from closing your door on him? Dread rises sharp and fast in Simon's throat when he thinks about a dark, cold home waiting for him as his only company. He passes your door on the way home, more often than not sees your silhouette against the warm light of your window. Illuminating the hard dirty edges of him.  
You've started feeding him, this big mean watchdog, and he might choke on his leash if you stop now. 
“Hello, what is that?”   
Simon sharply yanks his lunch away from Johnny's grabby paws.  
“None f’your business.” 
“Is that bloody banana bread? You've got to be fuckin’ me.” 
“That's homemade,” Kyle says unhelpfully from just behind Simon's shoulder. 
“Piss off,” Simon grumbles. 
Johnny does not, of course, piss off. Instead he grins, cheeky and wide. “Didn't know y’had a bird, Simon.” 
“Fuck,” Kyle groans. “Is that roast beef? That smells so good. Where'd you get this?” 
Johnny snorts. “More like who's he blackmailin'.” 
Simon glowers at Johnny, then says through a mouthful, “My girl.” 
If there'd been any hope of them dropping it, it's gone now. Simon realises his mistake as soon the words leave his mouth and Kyle and Johnny light up.  
They're incessant. Dog him at every opportunity—who is she? What's her name? What's she look like? Show us a photo, Simon, dinnae be so selfish. 
Simon suffers it for a week until he slams his gloves on Price's table and threatens someone's going to end up in the cement mixer by the end of the day if he doesn't do something about it. 
They quiet down after that, though they can't help but ask after you every now and then—even Price, who despite his congratulatory shoulder clap admits he wishes he had a sweet thing of his own. 
And the lunches keep going. As do the notes, every one of which Simon keeps carefully tucked away in a box at home. He didn't find one last night, and he suppresses the wave of disappointment. Maybe you forgot. Maybe you were just tired, and maybe he's grown too comfortable with your casual affection. 
So when a little piece of paper that was stuck to the bottom of the lid flutters onto the ground the next day Simon is unprepared. The two seconds of surprise cost him—Johnny dives after it like a hawk and scoops it before it's barely touched the concrete. 
“You little shit—” 
Simon's at him immediately, and Johnny, delighted by what he thinks is a funny fucking little game, twists and dodges while fumbling the note open with one hand. 
“Looking forward to dinner tonight. Be safe today,” Johnny reads before Simon snatches it from him with a hard shove to his head. “Aww, Simon, you lucky shite. C’mon, give us one o’ those cookies, aye? If you're goin’ home to a candle lit dinner.” 
“Get your own cookies,” Simon huffs, and curls one arm around his tupperware protectively while he eats. 
Looking forward.   
So is he. 
“Simon!” 
Simon whips his head around and catches you stepping out of your car with a wave. You've arrived home just after him today, and his breath catches in his throat when he sees your dress flutter prettily around your legs. 
You're dressed up all nice today—must've been at university, then. Simon doesn't know which he likes better: the shorts you wear at home or the glimpse of cleavage he gets when you wear a nice work blouse. 
His dick throbs when he holds his own hand up in greeting, hanging back just to get those few extra seconds with you.  
He's not sure why today is especially bad. Probably doesn't help that every time he jacks off in the shower you're the one he thinks of, imaging your pretty lips wrapped around his cock. It's hard to resist the indulgence after a long hard day of sweating and laying brick, then coming home and only getting to look, not touch. He doesn't want to stain you with his filth, but what's he supposed to do? He wants you. 
And his desire has sat festering in the confines of his rib cage for months. It curls his hands in tight fists so he doesn't reach for you by accident the way he does in his dreams, keeps him from leaning in to taste your lips to see if they're as sweet as your cobbler pies. 
“Alright?” he asks when you get closer. You feel off, distant, and when you nod it feels like it's more for his sake than for the truth of it. 
“Yeah. Um.” You adjust the strap of the bag on your shoulder, shifting on your feet. “I wanted to let you know I can't do dinner tomorrow. I'm, um, I have a date, so...” 
The spin of the world stutters for a second.  
Simon sucks in a quiet breath. “That so.” 
“Yeah.” You look up at him with a sad little smile. Not the kind of face you'd expect from someone who just scored a date, but Simon is too wrapped up in his misery to notice. “How was your day?” 
Normal. Unsuspecting. Good, even, until you told him some twat is taking you out to dinner.  
“Fine,” he hears himself say. Adds, “Watchin’ a match tonight.”  
An excuse—an out for both of you. You won't have to feel obligated to ask him if he'd like to come ‘round for a meal, and he won't have to pretend he doesn't feel like throwing up. 
“Go Manchester,” you reply with a smile. 
Just like Simon, they don't score. 
He waits up for you. It's pathetic, really—that of all things this is what gets him to dig around for a pack of smokes. Been mostly clean ever since you moved in next to him, his half-hearted attempts to quit finally mounting up to something with real resolve. 
He doesn't want to taste nicotine when he eats your meals. 
Even threw out his lighter. Which means when he finds a crushed, dust-caked pack with only one cigarette in it behind his couch he has to light it with a match and shaky hands. 
It tastes awful. But it's familiar, and sometimes he craves the burn even when he sees his dad putting out his own cigs on Simon's legs behind his eyelids. 
The evening grows colder around him, late summer skies tinted with dark purples and blues. It's quiet in the neighbourhood. He's the only one out this late—everyone else has retreated to the comfort of their homes, ready to turn in for the night. 
It should feel peaceful, but all Simon feels is anxious and on edge. Not even the smoke calms his nerves. 
Should he back off, leave you to the happiness you deserve? Throw everything away in one last shot, ask to take you out like he's wanted to forever? 
Words are no good, but he's tried so desperately to show you that he'd do just about anything if you asked. To let you know that underneath his gruff silences he doesn't bite the hand that feeds him and that he'd rip anyone else to shreds for raising a finger against you. 
Simon's head lifts when his ears pick up the rumbling of a car. Is it...? 
It is. 
Lamplight flashes over the cobbled street, and then the rumble of the engine turns off with a click. 
You're alone—thank God. Simon doesn't know what he would've done if you'd taken your date home. 
You look worn out, and not the happy kind after a successful lay. Just tired—to the point where you almost don't notice him and jump when you do. You take a startled step back from his hulking silhouette leaning against the stone little fence curling around all the houses along the street you share, before pausing and asking in a soft voice: 
“Simon?” 
And because he's a masochist he asks, “Y’have fun?” 
He expects a yes. At best a non-committal shrug—at worst an enthusiastic smile. But you look down at your shoes, chew your lip, and say, “No.” A breath. “No. It was awful. He was a twat, and he tried to feel me up under the table, and he's been hounding me at university for months, and I got so sick of it I just said yes but now I'm going to have to email HR and ugh—!”  
Your voice breaks on the last sentence and you sniffle, turning your face away from Simon so you can give it a quick wipe with the back of your hand. 
He's up on his feet in an instant, trying to take slow breaths so he doesn't act on the overwhelming urge to hunt down the wankstain and crush his fingers so he can never fucking touch you again. Your dog bites without warning or remorse, and everything in him wants to show your sad excuse of a date just how sharp his teeth are. 
But he can't. You're hurting, and that's more important than breaking some bloke's nose. 
And so Simon tries for softness as much as he's capable of it, large scarred hand hesitantly landing on your shoulder. It's all the coaxing you need to lean into his touch, and when Simon shifts a little closer your head falls on his shoulder. He burns with a different kind of fire. 
“Sorry,” you sniffle. “I'm okay, I really am, it was just such a—such a—” 
“S’alright,” Simon rasps. He pets your hair and strokes your back with a clumsy touch, unsure of how far he should, can, is allowed to go. “Y’should've called me. Would've come t’pick you up, maybe sock him a new one.”  
He'd do more than that if you'd let him. He'd take you home and made sure the only time you cried was when he worked his fat cock inside you. 
Christ, he's going to hell. 
“I didn't want to bother you,” you say in a small voice. 
“Sweetheart. You're never botherin’ me.” You let out a shaky sigh, and Simon tucks your head under his chin a little more securely. “Woulda made sure y’got home safe.” 
It's quiet, then, save for the sound of a car driving away somewhere down the road. Simon doesn't say anything else. He doesn't want to break the spell that you're under. You feel so soft in his arms, his sweet bird, finally come home to where you belong. 
“I kept wishing it was you.” Your voice is so soft he almost doesn't catch it, but before he can process it you pull yourself out of his embrace, cursing under your breath. “Sorry. Sorry—forget I said that. I'm... I'm gonna go home.” 
Simon's hand shoots out and grabs your wrist. You stare at him with big wet eyes that has the pit of his stomach swoop low. 
“Y’wish it was me?” 
His voice is low and rough, strained with want. 
Your cheeks burn and you avert your eyes, though you don't pull your hand away. “Sorry. Ignore me, I'm just...” 
“I'll take you,” Simon says a little too quickly. “Anywhere you wanna go. Dinner. Movies.” He pauses, trying to remember what people do for fun. “The library.” 
There. You hiccup a little laugh, finally, and the beginnings of a smile tug at your mouth. 
“The library?” 
Simon smiles a little, too. “Anywhere you want,” he repeats. Even the fucking library. 
Your gaze drops to your hands, and you carefully turn your palm against his. “I think I'd like that.” 
Simon swallows and lets his fingers intertwine with yours. “Yeah?” 
“I don't really care where we go, though. If it's with you.” 
Jesus bloody Christ. 
“Okay,” Simon says, voice tight. “Alright. We'll—we'll figure it out. We'll go somewhere.” A breeze hits you as he says it, and you shiver. “...Right now let's just get you home.” 
You nod, the fatigue overtaking your features again. Simon walks you all the way to your door, squints against the night sensor he installed himself. 
You hover in the doorway before opening your mouth, closing it, then take a small step forward to rise on your toes. Simon's heartbeat kicks up under your hand where you steady yourself on his chest, and then he feels your lips press against his cheek. It's his bad one, the one with the nasty scar from a bar fight long ago. 
“Thanks,” you say softly. 
“Yeah,” he manages, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. “’Course.” 
The door closes with a soft click.  
When you mention wanting to hike out on a trail nearby Simon, true to his word, makes it happen. It's not so bloody hot anymore and it's nice, hearing the birds chirp overhead. Nice to exist in a world where everything is washed in shades of mottled green, hearing the dirt crunch under his feet.  
It relaxes him. Makes his muscles untense. You promised him a picnic at the end of the trail, and to Simon's delight he succeeds in coaxing you to feed him bites of your homemade sandwiches in the midst of tall grass and meadow flowers. 
When you get home, sweat and sun lingering on your skin, Simon has full intentions of dropping you off at your doorstep and wishing you a good night. Maybe get another kiss if he's lucky. 
And he does—but you linger, soft lips hovering over his cheek. His fingers curl and uncurl against his sides, waiting and wondering. 
“Please kiss me?” you breathe on his skin, and that's all it takes. 
He surprises himself with the intensity of it, but fucking hell, he's wanted you for so long. His shoulders hunch, neck bent low, and he slots his mouth over yours. Your little fingers grab at his shirt for balance, and he pushes you against your doorframe. Every time he pulls away you make a small noise of protest and chase his lips, and though Simon hasn't had a drop of alcohol today he feels well on his way to hammered. 
“Do you want to—please come inside—?” 
Simon groans and rests his forehead against yours. Fuck. “I want to—want t’do this right,” he rasps. 
You exhale with a shaky breath. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes glittering like stars. Simon's stomach lurches at seeing you want him. “Right, um. Of course. I just—I've thought about... about you. For a—a really long timmf—” 
Simon groans into your mouth. He cups your cheeks, one hand sliding to hold you at the back of your neck. A sweat breaks out along his spine when he imagines you at night, in your bedroom, fucking yourself with your little fingers. Whimpering his name... 
“Yeah? Y’want me to take you to bed, sweetheart?” he murmurs, and you shiver. 
The two of you barely make it past the door until Simon is stealing the breath from your lungs again. He's wanted this for so long it's a little hard to stop, even if it's to break apart for air. Miraculously you seem to want it as much as he does, seem as desperate for his touch as he is for yours. 
When has anyone wanted him this bad? When has he ever felt like he'd die on the spot if he didn't get inside you right the fuck now? 
He doesn't need to ask you where the bedroom is. This place has felt his touch almost as much as yours, has shaped up into a cosy little home that is part of him, too. Like he wants to be part of you. 
Simon simply scoops you up and carries you straight to bed, forgetting to be gentle when he deposits on the mattress. His head is buzzing, his heart is thundering, and he needs you now.  
Fortunately you don't seem to mind much. Your hands immediately fly to his belt, tug at the metal impatiently, then fumble with his zipper with trembling hands. Simon pulls your top over your head, throws it somewhere on the floor without a care followed by his own. 
“Lie back,” he husks, and makes quick work of your trousers. Pauses just for a second to take in the growing wet patch of your panties. 
“Simon,” you whine softly. 
He drops to his knees and slides his large hands over your thighs, transfixed. He smooths over the goosebumps on your legs, presses a kiss to your knee. 
“Want me t’take these off?” he rasps, snapping the band of your panties. You lift your hips in silent assent. Simon helps you shimmy off your underwear and suppresses a moan when a string of sticky arousal clings to the fabric—then follows it right to the source. 
You gasp when he kisses your folds before gently spreading them with big warm fingers. “Sweet little cunt,” Simon mutters, and then he goes to town. 
He starts with slow, wet licks, feeling out what you like and what's too much. He keeps it light for a while just to feel you squirm and to hear your breathing turn ragged, then backs off just when your knees start trembling. He smiles when you whimper his name with a desperate little “please". 
“Such good manners.” His breath washes over your clit, and your hips try to twitch away from him. “Proper sweetheart, yeah?” 
It's great fun, playing with you, but his cock is throbbing painfully and he's leaking everywhere, and he very much intends for you to end the night feeling so blissed out you let him sleep next to you. 
So Simon hoists you closer, hooks your thighs over his shoulder, and sucks on your clit until you're sobbing his name. He holds your hips down by splaying one big hand over your stomach because you're a sensitive little thing, bucking away from him when he's not nearly done with you yet.  
It's cute, seeing you lose yourself to the pleasure. It's also really fucking hot. Simon slowly pushes one finger in you and groans when you clench around him. 
“Simon,” you whimper. “Oh, please, please—” 
Such a good girl, begging without him telling you to. Simon crooks his finger, and your next breath is a stutter of moans before your whole body tenses and you cum on his tongue. 
Simon hums approvingly, keeping his motions slow and steady so you ride it out all the way. When you whine and wriggle away from him he lets up, wiping at your slick covering his chin. 
Best meal you've cooked him by far. 
“Oh,” you sigh. “That was... Give me—give me a minute...” 
Simon chuckles and rises from his knees to crawl over you and steal a kiss. “Feelin’ good, princess?” 
“Princess—” you let out a breathless laugh, but even in the low light of your nightstand lamp Simon sees the colour rise in your cheeks. Liked that, did you? You blink up at him, a sweet satisfied smile on your lips. “Mhm. So good. Come here?” 
Your hands trail over his sides, stroke over the light hair trailing down his stomach. Simon shudders when your knuckles brush over his cock and he shucks off his trousers further to give you better access. 
When you wrap your hand around him he drops his head into the crook of your shoulder and moans. The twitch of his hips is involuntary, too desperate to chase his pleasure to stay put. 
“Next time,” you whisper while pulling him forward, spreading your legs wider to fit around his hips, “I want to feel you in my mouth.” 
“Jesus,” he groans. It takes everything in him to not just slide in. “We need a condom?” 
“I'm clean,” you murmur against his jaw. “On birth control. If you want we can—” 
“Fuck yeah I do,” Simon says, and you laugh. Soft eyes when your hands slide over his shoulders, brush through the short hair on his neck. Simon watches your face while he lines himself up without blinking, and he's rewarded with the flutter of your eyelashes, the parting of your soft lips. 
Your brows scrunch together at the first few inches, and he kisses you sweetly to make you relax. Simon knows he's not small, and he groans when you clench around him. 
“Good girl,” he whispers against your hair. “Good girl. Just like that, yeah? Takin’ it real well. Just like that.” 
He slides in a little deeper. You shiver and mewl and beg him for more, and he gives it to you. Anything you want.  
“Simon,” you whimper. “Feels so—oh, you feel so good. More, please, please—?” 
Simon brushes the hair from your forehead, keeping his thrusts long and slow and making sure to kiss your cervix each time, just because your breath stutters so prettily every time he does. 
“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck, you're so—such a tight little cunt. Couldn't wait any longer, could you? Jus’ had to have me?” 
You nod immediately and empathically, eyes glassy with arousal. You try to answer him, but the only thing you manage are airy moans that sound like his name. 
That's alright. Don't need to talk. He knows what you want to say; he feels the same. Simon catches you in a messy kiss while lacing his fingers with yours. Yours. Mine.  
He shoves his free hand between your two bodies and finds your clit, circling it until he's found the right rhythm that has tears gathering in your eyes. He could live on that for the rest of his life, of hearing you mindlessly stuttering his name while your body tenses up and your head drops back and those pretty lips part in a choked moan— 
“Christ,” Simon grits through his teeth, sweat dampening his brow. Your cunt flutters around him, soft little flower in full bloom that, with another thrust or two, has him falling apart as well. 
Both of you moan at the feeling of his cum spurting hot and thick in your waiting womb. Simon rocks against you slowly to make sure you get every last drop—birth control or not. 
He kisses you on the comedown. You melt into his touch, butter and honey, running your fingers through his hair until Simon shifts you around so you're curled up against him. 
In another minute he'll get up and get you a washcloth before tucking you in and kissing your bare shoulders. He'll wrap himself around you before sleep takes you, make sure that he's the last thing you see and hear and touch. 
For now he lets himself bask in the present. In having a sweet little bird clinging to him for comfort and giving him more than he could ever ask for in return. 
Simon doesn't think you quite realise what you've gotten yourself into, in giving this big ugly watchdog your affection. He's not a king or a prince; not even a knight, not like the ones you read so much about. Simon wouldn't exactly call himself chivalrous or genteel. 
But he's just as devoted and twice as vicious. He'll belong to you, and you to him, and from the moment he saw you he was oath-bound. 
He'll have to steal a ring or two to measure which size is right. It'll take some work to knock down the walls between your two houses, but he'll ask the lads for help. Simon knows you'll win them over right away if you cook dinner or bake them something sweet. 
And maybe in time he'll have to try his own hand at baking. He always did want to put a bun in the oven, and Simon just knows that if you're the one to do it with him— 
It'll come out perfect. 
3K notes · View notes
tootiecakes234 · 9 months
Text
Katsuki “asking” you to move in with him
You were almost back home when you got a call from your boyfriend. He didn’t even greet you when you answered.
“Where are you?”, he grunted into his phone.
“Well hello to you too handsome.”
“Yea, yea… where are you? I’m at your place to pick you up and ya ain’t here.”
“Heh… maybe if I knew you were coming over I would’ve been home. Why didn’t you text me and let me know. I don’t have any clothes packed or anything.”you informed him.
He does this all the time. Just comes over to your house and tells you that you’re coming back to his place with him. So very demanding.
“You have a dresser full of clothes in my room, your toothbrush and all your toiletries… what do ya need to pack?”
“Ya got me there. I’m almost there. I got stuff to drop off then we can leave.”
When you get through the door Katsuki is digging through your fridge.
“Why do you never have groceries in your house?” He questions you.
“Because I’m never here sir. They always go bad because I have a needy boyfriend that wants me at his house 25/8.”, the sarcasm drips out of your voice as you head to drop off the things you had bought.
“ Tch…. Needy. Please. You’re the one always complaining that we don’t spend enough time together.” He states.
“This is true.” You shrug your shoulders. “Anyways I’m ready. Let’s hit it.
“It’d be easier to spend time together if you just moved in with me” he mentions all causally as you guys head out to his car. You pause a little and look at him a little baffled.
You and Katsuki had been dating for about 8 months but you didn’t know he felt that seriously. Maybe he was just joking, so you shake it off and continue on like he didn’t say it.
The next thing you know you’re at his house getting ready for bed.
Kats comes to the bathroom and leans against the counter while you’re in the middle of doing your skincare.
“Do you wanna say something?” You ask because he’s just sitting there staring at you.
“Do you not wanna live with me cuz you could’ve just said that when I mentioned it earlier instead of fucking ignoring me.” He asked it harshly but you could hear the vulnerability in his voice. Like he didn’t want to bring it up but it was bugging him bad enough that he had to say something.
“I- uh…”
Apparently you were taking too long.
“Just forget it.” His eyes fell from yours and he started moving away towards his room. “Are we watching the next episode of that stupid show of yours? If not-“
“I didn’t think you were serious Kat.” And you reach your hand out to catch his arm before he can leave.
“I thought you were joking or something. Also it wasn’t a question so I didn’t know you were waiting on an answer babe.” There’s a small grin pulling at your lips when he looks at you again.
“Why the hell would I joke about that? And it was obviously a question…. So answer it dammit.”, his brows were furrowed and he was scowling a little.
Poor nervous boy.
You reach both of your arms up and wrap them around his neck. Then you lean in and press a kiss to his pouting lips.
“Katsuki Bakugo *kiss* I would absolutely *kiss* love *kiss* to move in with you *kiss*”
His arms have wrapped around you waist pulling you tighter to him.
“About damn time. I’ll have people come over to pack your shit tomorrow.” And this time he leans in to give his a deep kiss. His tongue reaching out to invade your mouth.
When he pulls back you’re all twinkle eyed and dopey in love. It takes a second for reality to catch up to you.
“Tomorrow?? Kats I have a lease and I don’t want movers breaking and throwing my things around. I’m gonna need at least a week or two. And I’m gonna have to pay-“
“I’ll pay for the lease break and you have til this weekend. If ya don’t want movers I’ll get our shitty friends to come over and help. Ain’t waiting no two weeks.”
“This weekend? It’s Wednesday. That only gives me 2 days!” You reason.
“Yea and I don’t wanna give you that so count your blessings princess. And I’m done arguing about this.” He sweeps you up bridal style and carries you to bed. Then He dumps you down onto it.
“Now how about we start christening your new place,” he says while hovering over you with a sexy smirk playing at his lips.
Hmmmm….. and just like that you forgot why it was you weren’t moving in tomorrow. He could be so very convincing when he wanted to be.
Katsuki Masterlist
5K notes · View notes
zarameraki · 2 months
Text
˖°🕷️ ࣪𖤐 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶'𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗻𝘆 ˖°🕷️𖤐
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 single dad x nanny 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 shower sex 𖥔 bj 𖥔 certified pussy eater 𖥔 daddy issues 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut
: ̗̀➛ words: 2.7k
: ̗̀➛ notes: wrote this one a while ago and decided it was time to get it out of the drafts. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“After the prince and his princess defeated the scary, ancient dragon, their kingdom lived happily ever after.”
With a smile, you closed the storybook, glancing over at Megumi, peacefully asleep in his crib. Your fingers brushed against his velvety cheeks before you tucked him in snugly and quietly left his room.
The jingle of keys echoed through the air. 
Toji stepped into the apartment, his appearance dishevelled and weary of another demanding day at the construction site. He shed his hefty boots and lumbered into the living room. Catching sight of you, a faint grin settled on his lips. “He asleep?”
“The dragon story always knocks him out cold.” You took his bag and set it down by the couch as he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall onto the bar stools. “Long day?” 
“Too fucking long.” He yanked open the fridge door, retrieving a container of leftover pasta and a beer. You joined him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and cracking open the can for him. “One of the machines decided to call it quits halfway through. Spent hours waiting for the mechanics to patch it up before we could even think of wrapping up the foundation.” 
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Zenin.” Your gaze shifted to the scattered construction toys that Megumi often indulged in. “With tomorrow being the weekend, maybe you could take some time to unwind and spend quality time with Megs.”
Toji let out a derisive snort as he warmed up his food. “Always appreciate you looking out for us, sweetheart.” 
“Hey, babysitting is my job.”
He took the beer can from your hand and affectionately pinched your cheek. You grinned with your nose scrunching up. “My paycheck isn’t gonna be here until next week. Is it cool if I can pay you a little late? I’ll double it to make up for it.” 
“Nah, you’re good. I can wait. Megumi’s my favourite little client.” You tucked your hands into the pockets of your jeans as Toji grabbed his dinner and brushed past you. “Jesus, Mr. Zenin. You smell like cement.” 
“Cut me some slack, kid.” 
“I’m twenty-two. Not a kid.” 
“If you’re younger than me”—he jabbed his fork in your direction—“you’re still a kid. Capiche?” 
“Eating pasta doesn't grant you Italian citizenship,” you teased. He rolled his eyes as you snatched your backpack. “Well, I’ll see you Monday evening, then.” 
“Leaving so soon?” 
You quirked a brow and raised your phone. “It’s ten in the evening.” 
“That’s early. Come on, stay and grab a bite. Wanna share?” 
Your stomach rumbled in agreement. And hey, a little extra time with Toji wouldn’t be the worst thing. Among all the parents, he was the only one you felt at ease being around late at night. He felt more like a good friend than just another guardian.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You set down your bag and snagged an extra fork, sliding onto the stool beside him. He placed the container between you two, ensuring you got enough of your separate fill.   
“Your feeding your fucking hair, sweetheart,” he commented, collecting your hair back. His fingers brushed over the side of your neck making it hard for you to swallow. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, quickly gathering your hair into a ponytail. Toji continued to chew slowly, his gaze fixed on you. “What?” 
“You always had a mole there?” He pointed below your jaw where a prominent beauty mark tattooed your skin. 
“I’m offended that you’ve just noticed now.” 
He finished chewing. “You don’t tie your hair up often.” 
“Would you like me to?” You twirled your spaghetti around your fork.
“I like your hair down,” he admitted, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. “But maybe not while we’re eating. Don’t want them getting dirty.” 
You rolled your eyes and took a large bite, cheeks puffing out as you chewed.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Toji grumbled, swiping away the speck of tomato sauce from the corner of your mouth. His tongue darted out to clear it, followed by another swipe of his hand. The tomato sauce probably matched the colour of your skin from that gesture. “Ever thought about hiring a nanny for yourself?” 
“No, but I might have someone to take care of me in a month.” 
Toji paused and dragged his eyes towards you. “Who?” 
“Just a boy from my class,” you replied nonchalantly, poking your fork in the meatball. “He’s cute, sure. Plus, he’s a hockey player. Basically the epitome of the perfect, conventional, bring-home-to-mom-and-dad kind of guy.”
Toji took a deliberate sip of his beer. “If that’s what you’re into.”
“You say it like you’re an expert on my taste.”
“I’ve known you for a year, darling. You never struck me as someone who’d go for a poster boy.” 
“Then who do you think I’d go for?” you asked softly. Green eyes locked with yours in a tense silence. “Since you seem to have me all figured out.”
Toji stole a quick glance at your lips, then darted his eyes toward the door of his son's bedroom. He fought back the surge of temptation bubbling up inside him, tightening his grip on the beer can in his hand. “Maybe I haven’t gotten to know you well enough.” He went to take a bite but you quickly interrupted by grasping his hand and guiding his fork toward your mouth. 
With the spaghetti twirled around it, you brought it to your lips, savouring the taste as you chewed slowly, all the while locking eyes with his emerald gaze. He observed your throat as you swallowed, his attention now fully magnetised by your flushed face.
As you licked the sauce from the corners of your lips, and wrapped your mouth around your thumb to clean it, Toji’s pulse quickened. “I’m an open book for you, Mr. Zenin.” You rose from your seat, reaching for your backpack. He couldn't tear his gaze away, transfixed by the sight of your ass. “Have a wonderful time beating yourself off to my pictures tonight.” 
Toji’s gaze flickered to his undeniable bulge straining against his jeans, a curse slipping past his lips. Downing his beer as you moved away, he pushed off the stool, closing the distance with a predatory grace, catching you in the middle of tying your shoelaces.
Your eyes widened as he backed you against the door, trapping your arms above your head. His knee insinuated itself between yours, his breath hot against your lips as he snarled. 
“He’s made dinner reservations at an Italian restaurant next week,” you whispered. “Unless you don’t want me sharing pasta with him like it’s a fucking Disney movie, I suggest you kiss me now, Toji.” 
“God, that fucking mouth of yours.” A broad smile appeared at his lips as he pressed them hungrily against yours. Your body responded instinctively, grinding against his thigh in a desperate plea for more. Toji’s grip on your wrists loosened, his hand finding its way to your face, driving his tongue inside your mouth and flicking it against yours. 
He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he held onto your ass. Lost in the intoxication of your overdue kiss, Toji maintained some semblance of awareness, urgently guiding himself into the bathroom, where he settled you onto the counter.
Breaking away, but still holding your jaw, he smirked. “I smelled like shit, yeah?” 
You shrugged. “Cement, but close enough.” 
“Since you know it all, you’re gonna help me clean it off.”  He stripped off his shirt before reclaiming your lips once more, your hands roaming eagerly over his chest and around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. You’d waited a whole year for this. 
Toji removed your jacket, then paused to peel off your t-shirt. He unhooked your bra with a single motion, pulling you close against him. The sensation of your nipples grazing against his chest hair made you momentarily gasp for air.
“You good?” he whispered, palming the side of your head. 
“So good.” You lunged at him again. He stumbled backward, bringing you with him until you both found yourselves inside the shower stall. His muscular arms coiled around you, pulling you closer as he ravaged your mouth.
Meanwhile, you shed your sweatpants and panties, while Toji unclasped his jeans and tossed them aside along with the rest of your clothes. He briefly opened his eyes, his mouth moving in sync with your desperate one, as he reached to twist the shower faucet open.
The first layer of cold water made you shiver and break apart. You and Toji stared at one another, your gazes lowering in tandem to study your naked bodies. He was big. So big. And extremely hard. His pink tip reached up to naval. Covered in veins that pulsed at a closer look. 
“You’re fucking gorgeous, sweetheart,” Toji said, stepping closer to you. Your back met the cold surface of the stall’s glass wall. His large hands cupped your breasts and travelled down to your hips. “You've been hiding all of this under those stupid looking sweaters?” 
“I happen to like my sweaters, thank you very much.” 
“Baby, they’re ugly.” 
You rolled your eyes and smiled. He continued to laugh at his own comment until you gripped his dick. 
He stopped immediately. 
“What’s wrong, Mr. Zenin?” Your hands moved in an elevated pattern. “Cat got your cock?” He planted his palms on either side of your head. You added twists and rolls, ones that had him at your mercy. Then you sank down onto your knees and swirled your tongue around him, sucking him off. He was breathing hard and fast, and his fingers gripped your hair. “Fuck my throat until I can’t speak for a week.” 
Toji snapped. 
He thrusted deep, deep down your throat and relished in the gagging sounds you made. “Holy fuck, baby. You’re so good at taking my cock.” Your nail sank into his hips, eyes rolling back to your skull. He forced you to open your eyes by pulling at your hair. “Fucking look at me, you little slut.” He shoved himself deeper and held your face against his pelvis. You scratched against his skin to take a breather while choking on his hot gush of release. There was nothing to swallow when he pulled your head back, releasing his dick from the confines of your mouth. 
You coughed out, drumming your fist against your chest to regain control of your lungs. A hand wrapped around your arm and stood you up. 
Toji held your jaw and inspected you closely with a twinge of concern. “Was I too hard on you, doll?” 
You nodded but raised a thumbs up. “Fantastic.” Probably the best blow-job you’ve ever given—even if Toji was mostly in control. 
His lips met yours in a soft kiss, allowing the water to wash away at your bodies. He massaged his fingers through your scalp, and, in contrast, gave your left asscheek a sharp slap. “Turn around. It’s my turn to eat.” 
Your chest pasted against the glass wall. Toji pressed himself against your back and slithered his hand down to cup your pussy. He grunted in your ear delivering a slap to it and hearing you squeak from the impact. His fingers pinched your clit and parted your folds. Easily, he fitted two fingers into your hole. “Jesus. You’re so fucking tight. No one’s been in this pussy before, baby?” 
“A few,” you said. “But they were smaller.” 
Toji curled his fingers inside of you. “A dirty whore like you needs something bigger. Don’t you, doll?” You moaned against the glass, your cheek pressed to the surface. “Tell me, baby. You need my fat cock to stretch out your tiny cunt? Need me to shape it to my cock’s size?” 
“Y-Yes—ah.” You arched your back the second his calloused thumb started circling your clit. “Fuck, Toji—oh, fuck. Faster.” He drove in a third finger and his free hand clapped over your mouth to suppress your cry. 
“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me, doll?” You nodded and he pushed you forward, kneeling down and spreading your asscheeks. “My pussy. You hear that? This is my fucking pussy.” He dragged his tongue over it and up to your little puckered hole. 
You were high on the sounds of him slurping at your release, sucking your folds into his mouth, and teasing your asshole with the tip of his tongue. This was not how you imagined your Friday night to go, but you weren’t gonna complain. You’ve been fantasising about this moment since Toji caught you putting up babysitting flyers in his neighbourhood. 
“My dick’s gonna break off if I don’t put it in now.” He wrapped your hair around his palm and positioned himself at your entrance. “Ready, doll?” 
“Fuck me, Toji. Please.” 
He could get off on your begging alone. 
His hips thrusted forward, his cock filling you to the hilt. He pulled back out and drove in—repeatedly, relentlessly. His palm came down with a bruising slap on your ass without a break. Toji wasn’t going to be satisfied until they were discoloured, until you couldn’t sit down for days. 
Seeing you wanton and moaning his name flicked a switch in his brain. He was going to brandish you in a way that you wouldn’t leave him for weeks. Months. Years. You’d be at his side until your children were arranging your joint funerals. The strange feeling inside his chest felt foreign, almost hindered the speed at which he was rutting in you. This was his first time fucking you after a year of pining and jerking himself off to your picture and he was already envisioning a romantic-movie montage. 
Toji leaned his face back so the water washed away the vision. Then he pulled out and turned you around, kissing your gasping mouth. He entered inside you again, hoisting one leg up. His fingers pinned you in place by your throat while violating your—his—pussy. 
“I’m gonna come inside you,” he breathed out over your swollen lips. 
“Do it.” 
Toji suppressed his groan by crushing his mouth against yours, a guttural growl producing from his throat. His release was everlasting, filling your inside to the brim. You came crashing down, holding the back of his hair and breaking away to breathe. His face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, equally panting. Those large hands settled on your throbbing ass as he completed the last bits of his ministrations. 
 You were both out of breath as you stared at one another. 
Toji blinked when you hugged him around his torso. His arms remained frozen at his side, glimpsing down at your crown. You looked up with those big, doe-eyes and a full-blown smile. Oh, he was so fucked. 
The remainder of the night was spent washing and drying each other, before tangling your naked bodies in bed. 
Toji continuously kissed your lips, his hand running up and down your back. You laid atop his chest, his cock buried within you as you gently rowed your hips back and forth. He planned to keep it nestled in you for the rest of the night. 
“Spend the weekend with me,” he murmured, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “We’ll go out for dinner at an Italian restaurant with Megumi.” 
“Yeah?” You pecked his nose. “We’ll look like a little family.” 
“That little shit already considers you his mother.” 
You chuckled and brushed the tendrils of hair away from his forehead. “Maybe another time. College’s been kicking my ass. Gotta catch up on those assignments if I wanna graduate with honours.” 
Toji found himself desolated. “Can’t you just study here?” 
“Not with two babies whining and crying for my attention.” 
He gave your ass a light smack. You feigned a wince making him caress it immediately. 
“But I can come over in the evening,” you said. “We can go out for ice-cream.”
He smiled at the fact that you were going to make time for him and his son despite your busy schedule. “Ice-cream it is.” 
You laid your head down on his shoulder and adjusted yourself comfortably on his cock. “Goodnight, Mr. Zenin.” 
“Goodnight, doll.” He rested one hand on the back of your head and the other massaging your ass, staring up at the ceiling where his vision played for the rest of night. 
Toji smiled. 
1K notes · View notes
eccentricwritingbaby · 3 months
Text
sex ban
carlos sainz jr x reader
summary - carlos puts down a sex ban in order to try and improve his racing performance. after he caves and realizes he can’t do it, you place your own sex ban to get payback. and it’s killing the both of you. 
warnings - smut
masterlist
Tumblr media
-
carlos had been down and out with his performance recently, nervous about his impending unemployment. you knew he was stressing out and pushing himself harder than ever. every morning before the sun was even up he was out running, cycling, in the gym, you name it. you could tell he was losing his energy more than usual because your late night activities were consistent with you being only on top.
you and carlos had a very passionate and constant sex life. it was wild and lustful, a trait that didn’t waiver in your four years together. that was until recently. carlos was clearly drained and tired from his all day activities that the nightly ones had dwindled. while he was stressed, it was usually taken out on you in a pure day through night sexcapade as he fucked you every which way in every room and every position. 
your worry grew stronger as the sex stopped sporadically throughout the day and began only at nightime. even then, he was too tired to truly give you his all, ending up with you on top and exerting all the energy. riding him was nice, and you enjoyed the position, but you needed to be really fucked. thrown onto the mattress, handprints and bite marks to clean up the next morning. but all of that came to a worse halt when carlos arrived home in the evening from a day with his trainer. 
“hola, mi reina,” he sighs out, letting out a groan as he sat next to you on the couch, muscles clearly about to give out. 
“hola, mi amor,” you gently greet, leaning forward to give him a hug and kiss in greeting, “how was your workout?”
“good, i’m sore right now but i should be okay for tomorrow,” he grunts again, attempting to lean back into the couch. 
“los, are you sure you’re alright?” you ask again, your eyebrows pulling in concern, “you seem like you’re very sore,”
“no no,” he assures quickly, “i’m fine, just went a little hard today,” he cranes his neck to get a good look at you, the pain in his eyes evident as you stare into them.
“do you need a massage?” you quietly ask, beginning to run your hands down his chest and stomach, implying your intentions for a happy ending. 
“actually…” he trails off, eyes now darting everywhere but your own, “we need to talk about that,”
“what?” you ask sharply, removing your hands from his body and sitting up straight to look at him clearer. 
“my trainer thinks it’s a good idea to not have sex right now,” he lets out quickly, averting your gaze again.
“i’m sorry, what?” confusion is laced in your tone as you attempt to process what he just told you.
“he thinks that i need to save that energy, conserve it for races and training,” carlos now is bold enough to meet your gaze, regretting it instantly under your sharp stare. 
“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you shake out with a laugh.
“mi amor, don’t be upset, please,” carlos pleads to you, “it will only be for a few months, until i get a contract for next year-,”
“MONTHS?!” your voice reaching a higher octave in surprise, “are you fucking kidding me, carlos?”
“mi amor-”
“no,” you cut him off, shaking your head and now standing up from your position on the couch, “you don’t get to ‘mi amor’ me right now, this affects both of us you know,”
“this is my career, y/n,” he lets out in a whisper, his insecurities on full display. 
“and this is our relationship, carlos,” you bite back quickly, “i hope you’re comfy on that couch, you’ll be sleeping there tonight,” with your final statement, you get up and walk upstairs to your bedroom, ready to head to sleep and hope his stupidity was all a dream. 
-
“it’s really been two weeks?” alexandra asks you as you both take a break from the bustle that was the ferrari garage during race weekend. you had already told her about the ‘ban’ last week at the other grand prix to which she was shocked and appalled that you were still standing. you and carlos fought for the first two days about it before you had come to terms with your situation. you weren’t happy about it. but you had come to terms with it. 
“two very long weeks,” you emphasize to her as you both begin your walk from the hospitality center back to the garage.
“i don’t know how you’re doing it,” she laughs, “if charles ever placed that i’d be done,”
“my vibrator and i have gotten really close,” you joke with a smile, “but really i understand carlos’ motivations, he’s freaking out about next year,”
“i’m sure,” alexandra nods in agreement, “it sucks that you have to deal with it too, though,”
“the things we do for love,” you laugh with her again. as you both continue to walk and talk about your predicament, two ferrari drivers were in the garage talking about the same thing.
“what is wrong with you?” charles asks your boyfriend, still in disbelief that he has been holding it out for two weeks. 
“i don’t know,” carlos laughs, “but it’s not working, i want to break it tonight,” he confesses to his teammate. 
“oh she’s going to be happy, i’m sure,”
“i hope,” carlos sighs, “she was pretty upset when i brought it up in the first place,”
“no shit,” charles scoffs, “i’d be pissed if alex put down a sex ban,”
“we’ve been fine since, she hasn’t been holding a grudge or anything,” carlos shrugs. 
“well good luck,” charles gives carlos a quick and firm pat on the shoulder, “you might need it,” he laughs as he walks away, leaving carlos to question the past few weeks quickly. just as he starts debating your feelings, he spots you and alex walking towards the garage, and he begins to sport his large smile. 
“hola, mi reina,” he shouts towards you, “come here,” he yells again, beckoning you closer to his hidden spot in the corner of the garage. 
“hi, baby,” you reply once you’ve reached him, his arm coming up to pull you into his body for a hug, ��how’s it going?”
“good, i have to get in the car in a few,” carlos leans down to plant a few kisses to your lips, a warmth growing in your lower abdomen as he continues to roam your body with his hands, “how was alex?”
“good,” you reply, chasing his lips with yours to get some sort of relief, your own arms beginning to roam his body as well, “how’s the car feel?”
“not as good as you will tonight, cariño,” he speaks into your mouth as you both continue your pursuit of each others mouths.
“what do you mean, amor?” you ask in your sunken tone, too caught up in the feeling of his lips and hands on you to catch what he was implying.
“i mean tonight,” he moves his head to begin kissing down your neck before continuing, “the ban lifts,” he sighs out. 
“what?” you ask sharply, putting space between your bodies quickly in order to process the information. 
“we’re having sex tonight, amor. i can’t put it more simple than that,” he laughs as his nerves begin to rise, scared of your harsh reaction. 
“no, we’re not,” you direct, now moving further away from him, his arms itching forward to have you in his hold. 
“yes, we are, cariño,” he replies, pulling you into him yet again. 
“no,” you give him a cross look, stopping his actions from going further, “we’re. not,”
“why?”
“i believe you placed this ban in order to ‘train better’ and you weren’t going to lift it until you had a spot for next year?”
“mi reina, i can’t do this,” he groans in frustration, “i need you,”
“you should’ve thought about that before you started this stupid thing,” you laugh, tapping his cheek quickly before turning around to leave, “karma, my love, karma,” you leave quickly, but not before hearing a long groan come from your boyfriend, giving you a giggle as you disappear. 
-
“y/n?” carlos calls out into the hotel room. you had left the track after the race as carlos finished up with the media, giving him a kiss goodbye and assuring him that tonight nothing would happen. he had thrown a small tantrum to charles who just laughed at his behavior, giving him a stern ‘i told you so’. now back at the hotel, you had decided to give carlos some payback. after he had withheld sex, he still was coming home from his training, hot and sweaty. tempting you beyond belief. he needed to feel what you felt. so here you were, all dressed up in your best red lingerie set, where nothing would happen. 
“in here!” you call out from the bathroom. hearing his footsteps grow closer, you giggle for a second to yourself before making eye contact with him through the mirror. 
“cariño…” he trails off, raking your body with his eyes, lust overtaking his complexion within seconds. you could tell by the tent forming in his pants these were a long two weeks for him as well. 
“what?” you feign innocence with your question, widening your eyes and relishing in the effect you had on your boyfriend, four years later. 
“you know what,” he sighs out, making strides to get closer to you, but you just take the same length of strides backwards, moving away from him.
“i thought i made it pretty clear earlier, the sex ban has not been lifted,” you shake a finger at him, starting to move forward in order to push past him and out of the bathroom. his hands stop you in your attempt to slide past.
“y/n, please,” carlos tries, squeezing your hips to further his point of urgency, “you’re killing me,”
“now you know how i felt these past two weeks,” you lean in closer to really set him off with your next word whispered in his ear, “...papi,”
a loud groan escapes his lips as he squeezes your hips tighter, “mi amor,” he starts, settling his lips between yours, kissing you with the passion you had been needing the past two weeks. 
“carlos,” you squeak out, separating the two of you, “i’m tired-”
“baby-”
“this is what you wanted, remember?” you eye him pointedly, laughing to yourself at his pained expression. the same one you sported everytime you got into bed with him for another sexless night. 
“cariño, this isn’t what i want,” he pushes, trying to grasp you back into his hold as you push away from him. 
“it’s what you asked for,” you say to him as you climb into the bed, raising your ass in the right direction to catch his attention. 
“fuck, amor,” he sighs, staring at you shamelessly, basking in the moment of finally being able to appreciate your body after two long weeks, “you’ll be the death of me,”
“too bad you had to go and listen to your trainer instead of your girlfriend,” you spit back quickly, getting comfortable in bed.
“y/n, i’m sorry,” he sighs again, rubbing his hand over his face before moving to sit on the end of the bed by your feet, “what will it take for you to forgive me?”
“i don’t know,” you fake ponder, “maybe in two weeks i’ll let you know,” you scoff out, winking at him before turning around in bed and closing your eyes. you hear a quiet grunt of disapproval before he heads to the bathroom in order to ready himself for bed as well. you hear the shower turn on, it’s gotta be ice cold, you think with a laugh, before drifting into sleep. 
-
“i’m telling you alex,” you giggle into your coffee the next weekend in the hospitality section, “his face has been priceless,”
“i can’t believe you’re doing this to him,” she laughs along with you, “he told charles that he has been dying,”
“that’s exactly what i was going for,” you confess with a chuckle, “i’m running out of lingerie soon, so i think i’ll switch to just totally naked, that’ll really throw him off,” alexandra just keeps laughing at your game, and encouraging you as you tell her more ideas. 
meanwhile in the garage, carlos is beyond on edge and charles knows exactly why. 
“i told you so,” charles sing-songs as he passes by his teammate. 
“shut the fuck up, mate,” carlos shakes off, running his hand through his messy hair for the hundredth time, “this is-”
“killing you, i know,” charles laughs again, “just apologize to her, grand gesture,” he attempts to provide a solution to his friend. 
“i’ve tried that,” he shrugs, “i’ve bought her bags, shoes, dinners, and nothing,”
“wow,” charles eyes widen in surprise, “are you sure the sex is good for her?”
“shut. up. charles,” carlos says through gritted teeth, “she’s just stubborn, wants me to wait the two weeks like i made her do,”
“actually that’s pretty fair-” charles begins, but stops abruptly as carlos’ left shoe comes hurling at his head, “hey! i’m not the one who gave you the sex ban! don’t hurt me!” he cries out in laughter, running away quickly before the right shoe has a chance to be removed. 
-
the two weeks were up and you were burning. you needed carlos biblically in every way you could possibly imagine. however, the need to watch him squirm one last time tempted you completely. so there you stood - naked, oiled up, hair done, heels on - ready for carlos. 
“hola, y/n, i’m home!” carlos calls throughout your shared home as he enters. 
“i’m in the bedroom!” you call back, giddy with excitement as you hear his footsteps approaching. 
“oh, oh mi reina,” carlos stutters, stopping dead in his tracks as he tracks your body with his eyes. 
“hola, papi,” you seductively whisper, watching his eyes turn from their beautiful caramel brown to a lustful black. 
“ohhh,” he lets out in a groan, immediately dropping down to his knees, and crawling forward to be at your feet. just as he approaches, you push your heel into his shoulder, stopping him from moving closer, “mi amor…,” he sighs in a plea, moving his lips to meet your ankle, slowly trailing them up and kissing your legs in admiration. 
“carlos,” you warn as he inches closer to your heat, “i think there’s one more day on the ban,” his eyes snap up to meet yours, widening in hope for you to forget it already. 
“mi reina, please,” he whines, his lips furthering their pursuit on your thigh, “i’ll do anything, anything,”
“anything?” you ask with a smirk, an eyebrow cocked in amusement at his desperation. 
“anything,” he breathes out, “absolutely anything,”
“no more sex bans,” you start, your boyfriend already nodding his head in agreement, “you fuck me everynight,” you keep going, carlos still shaking his head as his lips don’t stop their attack on your leg, “and you fuck me good tonight, papi,” you finish, him already climbing up your leg in urgency to reach the place he needed once given the green light. 
his lips meet yours after leaving a trail on your entire body, you hum and moan into the kiss as his hand climbs up your body and begins to grip your neck. pushing your head to the side, his lips migrate to your neck, biting and sucking in the places he knows will keep pretty sounds leaving your mouth. 
“mm,” he grunts, pushing his thigh in between your legs, leading you to let out another silky moan and grind down onto his jeans, “y/n,” he chokes out, “on the bed,” he directs. you eagerly move away from him and slide onto the bed. as you start to remove your heels, he pulls your hand away quickly, “leave them on,” he sighs out as you just smirk towards him. 
with the confidence of his desire for you warming your insides, you pull on the collar of his shirt, ultimately forcing him on top of you and leading his lips back to yours, he slips a moan out at your boldness. he stops only for the removal of his shirt before his lips come crashing to yours once again. 
he slides his hand down your body, giving your nipple a tight pinch on his way before meeting his desired destination. once his hand cups your heat, your moan echoed the walls as you hadn’t felt anything but your toys for a month. and they were not nearly comparable to your boyfriend. 
“i’ve barely touched you, amor,” he chuckles out between your kisses. 
“shut up,” you bite back, “it’s been a month,”
“i know,” he breathes, lips moving back to your neck, him relishing in the sound of your sweet moans as his fingers get to work, “so wet for me, reina,”
“only for you, papi,” you choke out in between your moans. he slips his digits up and down your folds a few times, gathering your wetness on his fingers before slowly, too slowly, entering you. he drowns out your moans with his lips on yours, pumping his fingers faster as his thumb comes up to rub your sensitive bud. 
“need you, papi,” you moan out, “need you inside of me,” 
“i know, mi amor, i know,” he shushes you a little bit, kissing you lightly as he continues to pump his fingers in and out, “i want to savor you,”
“do i need to tell you how long it’s been again?” you desperately moan, arching your back into him as he hits your spot. carlos moans along with you, reveling in your need for him and how easily he can get you undone. 
“no need for that, amor,” he shakes off with a laugh. pulling his fingers out of you, they meet his mouth as he tastes the sweetness of you he had missed for weeks. he lets out a guttural moan, and he begins to remove his pants. taking them off in one swift motion, his length slaps up to meet his stomach as you attempt to not drool at the picture in front of you. scrambling towards your boyfriend, you start to make a motion in order to give him the same attention he gave you, ready to be on your knees and ready for him. only for his hands to grab your waist, tossing you backwards onto the bed.
“do i need to remind you how long it’s been?” he asks you, mocking your question from earlier. you sit up on your forearms, watching as he crawls across the bed to be on top of you, meeting your lips in a kiss. you get so caught up in the kiss, carlos’ movements to enter you were lost as your brain fogged in lust. 
“are you ready, mi reina?” he quietly asks, rubbing his length in between your folds. 
“si, papi,” you seductively eye him after your answer, his eyes rolling back as he moves forward to kiss you again. as he enters inside of you, both of your moans paint the walls of your bedroom. 
“fuck, y/n-”
“aye, carlos-”
his pattern begins slow, the movements beginning to warm you up as you stretch to fit him perfectly. his lips attack your neck as your hands pull on his back, you scratching, him biting. both of you moaning in the bliss you had been missing for weeks. 
“oh, oh baby,” he breathes, movements quickening as he gains his rhythm. carlos pulls back slightly from you, moving an arm next to your head in order to hold himself up as he pounds into you harder. your back involuntarily arches, pushing your breasts to meet his chest, sweat mixing together as well as your moans. 
“mi-mi amor,” he stutters out, and you recognize immediately what he’s about to tell you, “i know it’s soon but-”
“i know, carlos, me too,” you breathe out, the warmth in your tummy heating up as you feel your aching ready to be released. 
“with me, baby, with me,” he grunts out, his pace now sloppy as he attempts to bring you towards your high with him. 
“mhm,” was all you could let out, your nails now digging further into his back, “‘m close,” 
“c’mon, mi reina,” he stutters out, his high coming quick, “now, baby,” he breathes out in haste. you both collapse into each other, a sweaty pile of moans and kisses as you begin to come down from your high. 
as you both lay there, carlos still inside you, he kisses your forehead and starts moving some of your hair away from your face. you finally kick off your heels and kiss carlos in between catching your breath. 
“you do know we need to go again, right?” you laugh out through the kisses. 
“oh we’re going all night, y/n,” carlos reassures you, kissing you again. 
“good,” you giggle, “and never again will this happen,”
“never, mi amor, never,”
-
2K notes · View notes
evie-sturns · 8 months
Text
ɢᴇᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: you're spending the weekend at the sturniolos house, you've never had feeling for matt, but this weekend has been different, he just looks too good, the sexual frustration builds up to the point where you just have to get yourself off, but matt walks in on you..
Warnings: swearing, smut, f!masturbation, caught gettin freaky w yourself, fingering, p in v.
-----------------┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛-------------
i'm spending the weekend with my best friends, the sturniolos. i've never had any feelings for them, but this past week matt has been looking.. different. he's recently got more tattoos, his facial hair has grown out slightly, giving him a subtle moustache. matt's been wearing different earrings, longer ones, i've never thought about him this way, it weirds me out, but i can't help myself. i've had no privacy for the past 3 days though, constantly with a triplet. i've wanted to touch myself, but i physically cant.
i open the trash can, throwing in me, matt, nick and chris's empty solo cups, which were filled with rootbeer.
"im so fucking tired what time is it." chris yawns, standing up from the dining table.
"1:30am." nick mumbles, rubbing his eyes.
"okay guys, i'm going to bed yeah? gotta be up early for the beach tomorrow" chris says, doing stupid claps with a wide grin on his face.
i scoff, waving him goodbye as he disappears upstairs. nick runs over to me, giving me a quick hug "i'm gonna sleep too, love ya y/n, see you in the morning."
me and matt stand in the kitchen, i lean on the countertop slightly, scrolling on our phones. his face is lit by his screen, highlighting his features. i don't even notice the fact i'm squeezing my thighs together until he looks up at me.
"you okay, mrs. staring problem" he jokes, giving me a smile. my cheeks flush, i uncross my thighs and wipe my face quickly. "sorry." i say, quickly.
"i'm gonna go watch a movie okay? my rooms always open." i say, giving matt a hug.
i get butterflies, why the fuck did i get butterflies?
i feel a heat grow between my legs, i run upstairs, going into the spare room which im staying in for the next few days. i lock the door behind me,
atleast i think i do.
i flop down on the bed, my hand reaches under my waistband, tracing soft circles over my fabric of my panties. "fuck." i whisper before shimmying my shorts and panties down in one motion to my ankles.
im left with my bottom half revealed on the bed, i use one finger to trace my clit in circles. i squirm on the bed, restraining my moans. after a few minutes i plunge two fingers into my hole, pumping in and out.
my mind subconsciously flicks to matt, his tattoos, which crawl up his arms, his hair, his hands, i wonder what they would look like around my neck-
the door opens, my eyes bulge open, me and matt make direct eye contact, i instantly yank up my shorts,
"get out please!" i say, my voice shaking, as i sit up quickly
"oh fuck im so sorry!" he yells slamming the door shut, his face pale.
i fall back on the bed, covering my face with a long groan.
embarrasment.
is the only thing i feel, my heart pounds as i bring my knees to my chest.
after 10 minutes, i hear a quiet knock on the door, i sit up off the bed, walking towards the door and opening it.
im met with matts guilty face, his cheeks are flushed, a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead.
he opens his mouth, nothing comes out execpt for a small noise. he clears his throat "sorry."
"i uh, sorry um, i really shouldve knocked." he says fidgeting with his hand. i stay silent, my cheeks cherry red. "i swear i didn't see much." he assures, i look up at him, raising an eyebrow in a 'really?' way. he stares at me "maybe thats a lie, but i swear ill blank it out of my mind!" he says, his voice frantic.
"its fine matt, i shouldve locked the door okay? lets go watch a movie in your room." i say, giving matt a warm smile. he nods, walking towards his room.
i follow close behind him as he jumps into bed, laying an arms out, i jump in beside him, cuddling close into his side.
my heart beats again, when im nervous words just come out.
"i was thinking about you when i was touching myself." i blurt out, slamming a hand over my mouth. the room goes silent. im frozen in shock.
"what?" he says in confusion.
"not true." i mumble out. my hand glued to my mouth.
matt tenses up under me. "y/n.. you have to tell me right now what your were thinking about.." he says, calmer than expected/
i stay silent.
"y/n." hes cut off by my voice.
"you it was you, i don't know!" i say, my voice trembling from embarrassment.
"what about me?" matt teases, rubbing my shoulder comfortingly
"tattoos, hair, hands" my mouth is moving faster than my brain.
"is that so now?" he says, looking down at me.
i nod quickly, matt sits up on his knees before hovering over me. i look up at him, my eyes submissive.
he smashes his lips into mine, holding the back of my head. "matt" i whine into his mouth. "i know, i know." he says, pulling my shorts down. "can i?" he says, toying with the waistband of my panties.
"please." i beg, lifing my hips up to help him. he leans down and whispers into my hair.
"whats gonna happen is you're gonna ride me, and you arent going to make a single noise, nick and chris are right next door."
i nod, flipping us over, straddling his thighs with my bare lower half.
he pulls down his sweatpants, his large erection springing out. "you ready?" he says, tearing open a condom with his teeth and rolling it on him. "i really like you.." i whisper, hovering above his tip. "you need help sweatheart?" matt speaks, holding my ass.
i didn't, i just wanted to feel his hands on me.
"yes,- yeah please.."
he lowers me down onto him, halfway down. suddenly he drops me, my ass colliding with his thighs, i let out a gasp as he smiles, he lifts me back up to his tip, before dropping me again.
i let out a shaky moan, matt holds a hand over my mouth. "can't stay quiet can you baby?" he teases, lifting me up and down.
i squeeze my eyes shut, pushing myself up and down with my hands on his collar bones. i let out muffled whimpers, his hand clamped onto my lips.
"so good princess." he praises, lifting me up and down faster.
"you're clenching, gonna cum for me?"
i nod frantically,
"go on." he says, i instantly comply, orgasming on his length.
he groans before pulling out of me, his cum spilling into his condom. i instantly collapse on his chest. matt whispers praises in my ear.
i place a long kiss on his neck.
"pretty glad i didn't lock the door." i say in between breaths
—-———-----┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛------------------
had a shitty day today so i wrote matt smut LMAO
1K notes · View notes
icydrinkz · 25 days
Text
“HEY EMO BOY!”
Headcanon’s/Story
F!Reader x HotTopicWorker!Choso
Tumblr media
WARNINGS - MDNI: F! fingering, squirting, afab reader, pinv (unprotected), creampie, perv choso, rough sex, dom!Choso, public sex (f! receiving), fluff, happy ending. PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED ANY!!
Note: THOUHT I MIGHT TRY SOMETHING NEWWW..I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS AND PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU WANT MOREE! (Why was this easier to do than a SMAU for me 😐) oh and also this is my first time writing stuff like this so please give me some feedback!
♪───O(≧∇≦)O────♪
HotTopicWorker!Choso who thought that you were drop dead gorgeous as you asked him where the MCR shirts were as he was restocking inventory, even tho they had a big MCR section right in front … but he didn’t mind helping you!
HotTopicWorker!Choso who chuckled to himself at your comment on his Green Day shirt, saying that you thought it was an awesome band, thinking you were cute for messing up your words trying to compliment him.
HotTopicWorker!Choso who feels sad and lonely when you leave the store after he helped you, helping out other customers, none with the same effect as you had on him, hoping by some luck he sees you again
HotTopicWorker!Choso who was overly joyed when he saw your beautiful face walk into the store a week later, seeing that you were wearing the MCR shirt he helped you pick out made his heart flutter
HotTopicWorker!Choso who was happy when you remembered him, starting to make small talk with him about your week as he tries to listen to you but is to distracted by your lips and the way they move when you talk
HotTopicWorker!Choso who is speechless when you give him your phone number and name before you leave the store, making his heart flutter even more, making sure he puts your number in his phone and texts you right away
HotTopicWorker!Choso who is getting ready for bed as you texted him back when he was brushing his teeth, ending up pulling a all nighter texting you about randomness, forgetting that he has to get up and work tomorrow but it’s all worth it when you ask him to hangout outside the mall after his shift this weekend
HotTopicWorker!Choso who is finishing up his shift at hot topic as he sees you walk in, looking even more beautiful then ever just for him and yours walk in the park “hangout”, not knowing how a loser like him could have gotten a date with someone so beautiful as yourself
HotTopicWorker!Choso who’s palms get really sweaty when you guy are holding hands while walking in the park together, being extremely nervous, but all the nervous thoughts go away once you point out a cafe you wanted to go into with him
HotTopicWorker!Choso who’s face goes red as a tomato when you kiss him at the end of your guys date, your lips being so soft against his rough, eaten up ones, even after you pulled away he could still taste you in his mouth, waiting more but to afraid to ask
HotTopicWorker!Choso who doesn’t care if its perverted if he fucks his fist late at night to the memory of your lips on his, thinking about what they would feel wrapped around his loser cock, finishing in his fist as he texts you with one hand if you wanted to come to work with him tomorrow
HotTopicWorker!Choso who as soon as you sent him a text back saying “Sure why not?” with a little smiley face at the end, he was already thinking about all the possible ways he could make you cum in the break room
HotTopicWorker!Choso who had a big smile on his face as he let you walk into the mall next to him, early enough for him to get the store set up, letting you sit around the store as he worked his shift until his break time came up
HotTopicWorker!Choso who had you pinned against the wall, in the middle of a heated make out session, his pants getting impossibly tighter in his back skinny jeans as you begin to touch all over his body with your soft fingertips
HotTopicWorker!Choso who only has 15 minutes left of his break time but bets he can make you cum in 5, he say as he begins to finger you roughly, hitting your g-spot repeatedly as you moan in pleasure, telling him to not stop
HotTopicWorker!Choso who if he wants to win this bet only has 3 minutes left, he starts to finger you faster, not wanting to be called a loser as he already as been called many times before, not waiting to hear it from you, he feels you clench around him, your gummy walls sucking up his fingers, making his dick twitch in his pants
HotTopicWorker!Choso who has you squirting around his fingers with 1 minute to spare, meaning he won but he still has 11 minutes left of his break, deciding to lick your slick clean off his fingers and he starts undoing his belt
HotTopicWorker!Choso who knows he has a big cock and loves seeing you whine when he starts thrusting himself slowly in from the behind, you saying a mix of “oh my god choso!” And “F-fuck choso you’re so big..” making him wanna fuck you even faster
HotTopicWorker!Choso who starts thrusting faster inside of you, loving the way your moans and whimpers sound like when your close, thinking they are probably the best sounds he’s ever heard and that’s a lot coming from a hot topic employee that loves listening to different kinds of music
HotTopicWorker!Choso who has you cumming around his cock in no time, your gummy walls squeezing him for all he’s worth, he ends up cumming inside you with a loud grunt, apologizing shortly after he did so without a condom saying that you were making it hard for him not to
HotTopicWorker!Choso who cleans you up with 2 minutes left of his break and makes sure you’re okay before he goes back to working, apologizing that he couldn’t do proper aftercare in his time crunch, hoping you didn’t believe he was a terrible person
HotTopicWorker!Choso whose shift is ending in a few short minutes, seeing you walk out of the break room, dressed in some random clothes you found in the back, him still thinking you look as beautiful as ever
HotTopicWorker!Choso who is over joyed when you ask him nervously to be your boyfriend on a random date you guys went on and who is he to say no? Of course he said yes! He loved you so much, no words could ever describe it
HotTopicWorker!Choso who is happy with his life with you, he ends up getting you a job at Hot Topic together! And oh boy is he glad that a few months ago you asked where the MCR section was even though it was right there when you walked in, Now thinking maybe you did it on purpose
I really hope this doesn’t flop 😖🙏
501 notes · View notes
blughxreader · 9 months
Text
platonic yandere batfam thoughts...
how you end up integrating into the family.
I think we often forget how insidious the long-term effects of kidnapping are. Your whole world narrows and you have nothing fulfilling outside of them.
Realistically, how many weeks straight can you do nothing but look at your phone/watch TV? I know we do this every day, but we have school/work/friends/family to provide actual fulfillment and joy. But when you take that away? And have to decide whether you should scroll through monitored social media or talk to your captors?
Especially because the TV doesn't distract from the cold, hard gaze of the surveillance cameras in your room.
Even if you read and craft and cook, it's so difficult to keep your mental health in-tact without having a positive interaction with another human being.
It would start small.
It's morning and Cass smiles at you from across the breakfast table. Not wanting to be rude, you smile tightly back.
Jason wordlessly slides you a book. You take it.
After a few months, you feel slightly more comfortable about taking up space in the manor. Alfred is out of town for the weekend, so you make a sandwich with Tim.
Bruce talks to you about the new scientific breakthrough at Wayne Enterprises and keeps you relatively up-to-date on major world events. You begrudgingly learn more interesting facts than public school has ever taught you.
Soon, you've watched everything good on Netflix. You exhausted your tolerance for social media. You've given yourself headaches reading so much. You've hit an art/writers block like never before because your input has run dry.
With no other source of entertainment, you become more attentive to the Bats.
Of course, you've always watched them out of fear. But as months tick by and you've learned their hearts (and delusions), it's obvious that they would never hurt you. Furthermore, operating within their expectations is easy enough as long as you never challenge them, so the constant danger-sense slowly turns off.
However, because you don't have any outside noise to occupy your mind, drama in the house becomes almost life-and-death to you.
Peace is so fragile, and it's all you have.
Damian and Bruce return from patrol in a rage one night. Damian's furious echoes bouncing upstairs, followed by Bruce's low, indistinguishable scorn.
Fuck, you think. Now your and Bruce's talks are going to be stilted and uncomfortable. Now Damian is going to sulk in your room for hours, unwilling to talk about what happened yet wanting some kind of reassurance.
You can't keep them from fighting, but you want to protect your peace.
When you first arrived in this dreadful manor, you never would have imagined you'd offer them kind words and affection. However it's the only thing you can do now.
There's conflict. The house is tense--your world is tense.
Should you call Dick? He has a day job again, so he can't come over until tomorrow night. It's up to you to ease the tension.
So you do, slowly, with homemade food and Bruce's favorite coffee blend and Damian's favorite hot chocolate. You sit with them individually, shoulder to shoulder (much closer than you would normally sit), and pretend everything is alright. They're surprised but very quick to snap back into a good mood.
The house is suddenly back in order and you did it all by yourself.
And with these vigilantes, conflict is ripe. There's always people coming and going, fighting and playing, and you're unwillingly the most in-tune with the well-being of everyone's relationships.
You protect your peace. You protect the house.
this shit makes me gnaw at my enclosure. if you're fem, it's worse because ✨ stereotypical woman archetype ✨ anyway this has been on my mind because i've been taking care of my baby chicks and cooking dinner most nights, so i'm like 💁‍♀️ i could be a captive house wife click here for my yandere batfam masterlist
2K notes · View notes