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#cause it sounds so ridiculous when you say it like that
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coffee. l Joel Miller
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Summary:  jealousy tastes like coffee
Warnings:  angst, but not much, fluff, some swearing, Ellie is annoying; some sexual innuendo for Joel
A/N: be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes
short stories from life. [masterlist]
"This shit is awful!"
"Ellie! Do you have to make everything disgusting to me?"
"It's not my fault! You brought this home yourself. Don't expect me to pretend I like it!" the girl pushed the coffee mug away from her and rested her chin on hand "Where did you even get this?"
You poured the ground coffee out of the small grinder and carefully put it into the old coffee machine that Joel had recently managed to fix. The machine made a quiet humming sound.
"Collin gave it to me." you replied without taking your eyes off the machine "They got it in the last supplies."
"Oh, I see." Ellie sighed, clearly interested "You mean that guy who's making goo-goo eyes at you?"
"Shut up!" you hissed, but you felt your ears go red. "He just likes me."
"Yeah, for sure."
Heavy footsteps on the stairs stopped you from swatting Ellie with the cloth you had in your hand. You were excited, you couldn't wait to see Joel's face when you put a cup of freshly ground coffee in front of him.
"What smells so good?" he mumbled, still slightly hoarse as he entered the kitchen. "Is that coffee?"
The coffee machine spat out the last few drops of the black liquid and you happily put a cup of the steaming drink in front of him. Joel looked at it in surprise. He was still sleepy as he ran his fingers through his hair, making an even bigger mess on his head. His dark eyes widened with interest.
"Where did you get that?" he asked, looking at you with a smile.
"Tell him!" Ellie added quickly, and you gave her a murderous look.
"Tell him what?"
"Shut up, Ellie." you hissed, but Joel was already looking at you suspiciously.
The girl leaned back in her chair slightly, to a safe distance where you couldn't reach her, and grinned.
"Collin gave it to her." she said "You know, the one from the store. His eyes are always glued to her. I think he thought she would make him that coffee in the morning after…."
"You little..."
Joel, who was turning the cup over and over in his hands, slowly put it on the table. Suddenly the cup of coffee became the main problem in your house.
"Joel, don't be ridiculous!" you laughed to hide your embarrassment "You've been saying for days that you dream of coffee. You even fixed the coffee machine!"
"Naah, I don't feel like it." he muttered.
You looked at him in surprise. You felt as if Joel and Ellie were suddenly standing in opposition to you, and the subject of the conflict was the unfortunate coffee. This was crazy!
"Collin isn't hitting on me at all!" you declared, slapping the table with a cloth, and Ellie jumped with excitement "Stop talking nonsense!"
"Last week you got two jars of strawberry jam from him, remember?" Ellie reminded you with satisfaction, Joel nodded.
"Fuck! Seriously?" you looked at Joel reproachfully.
Miller didn't answer your question, only mumbled that he had a job at the stables and left you with Ellie, who seemed delighted with the chaos she caused.
"I think he's jealous." she stated as the door to the house slammed after a few minutes.
The whole day you were not satisfied with your morning conversation in the kitchen. As you could expect such behavior from Ellie, Joel was a grown man. You finished your duties with the intention of talking to him and explaining everything.
Collin was just your friend, you had no deeper feelings for him beyond simple sympathy. And jealousy was nothing normal in this situation. Because why would it appear at all, right?
You entered the stable and from a distance you noticed Joel cleaning the chestnut mare, which he liked very much. The footsteps were clearly audible, but he decided to ignore you, as you thought.
"Hi." you choked out, approaching him. "Do you wanna talk?"
"Not really." he replied, not stopping working.
"Okay, so I'll do the talking." you said "Joel, this is stupid. We can't have quiet days because of a cup of coffee. We're friends, right? Are you going to get all huffy every time I bring something home?"
"Depends if the guy is clingy to you." he replied quietly, and you rolled your eyes.
"Collin is not clingy to me." you pronounced each word clearly, so that he would definitely get it "Are you really going to listen to a teenager! Ellie has been teasing me all morning and you got mad at me like some brat! Are you really jealous?"
"That's not... Fuck! That's not what I mean!"
He finally turned to you and looked you in the face. The eyebrows were furrowed and his body was tense. The whole situation would have been even funny if you weren't both so worked up.
"I don't like it when some guys give you something because then they'll want something in return." he said sharply "That's how it works! Nobody does anything for free."
You folded your arms across your chest and glared at him defiantly. "Really?" you asked. "What did you want from me when you fixed my dresser door, huh?"
"I didn't... Shit! It's not fair and you know it! You know I'd never..."
"Listen, Joel." you said, pointing a warning finger at him. "I didn't say anything when Mrs. Jones asked you to take a look at her electric heater because... How did she say it? She needed a good warm-up." Joel gulped, clearly confused. "Another woman wanted you to replace some boards in her bed and make sure she was safe there. And one of Ellie's teachers..."
"That's enough!" Joel interrupted you, and you could barely hold back a laugh. "I get it! Okay? I made a fool of myself."
He looked a bit like a scolded puppy. You had been friends for a long time and this kind of conversation between you shouldn't have happened at all. There was never a situation where you were the one who got mad at him for doing something for someone.
"That was kind of sweet." You stated, shrugging. "Too bad the coffee got cold."
He nodded. He put down the brush he was using to brush his horse and grabbed the bridle to lead him to his place.
"You know, all those women... Fuck. Do you really think they were flirting with me?"
"Would you like to charge different fees now, Miller?" You snorted. "Yeah, they really were trying to flirt with you."
Joel cleared his throat and closed the stall. He thought about something for a moment, then looked at you and asked.
"Do you have anything I could fix? As compensation for the fact that this whole situation even happened." He said. "Maybe you have something that moves, or is too loose?"
"You know..." you thought for a moment. "Not really. Maybe not moving or loose, but…tight."
"Tight?" he was surprised and for a moment you saw in his eyes as his brain tried to understand your allusion.
You slowly moved towards the exit. "Yeah, Joel. Tight. Something very tight."
You threw him a quick look the moment your words finally sunk in. His eyes widened as he understood.
"Are you flirting with me? Fuck! Stay!"
You left the stable with a wide smile on your lips. Your revenge tasted like coffee.
☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
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farmhandler · 2 days
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for those of you who do follow me on tumblr, you get a sneak peek... because I love you... (continued after ch9)
“Hey,” Scott said, catching Logan’s attention as he started moving away towards the stairs. Logan had agreed to stick to one of the empty conference rooms upstairs for a while to avoid startling any of the kids.
“Ugh, this guy again,” Wade muttered.
“What is it?” Logan said.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” Scott said. He sounded sheepish, of all things. “About you two, I didn’t—I’m not—what I said back there isn’t how I am. It wasn’t what I meant. This whole thing—”
“Scott,” Logan said, cutting him off. He raised a hand. “It’s…you were an asshole about a lot of it, but I get it. This whole situation is fucking weird for me, too. A lot has changed. I’m not exactly the same guy I was when I knew you—the other me knew you. I’d probably be worse than you are in your position.”
“Should I be offended by that?” Wade said.
Scott seemed relieved, shoulders slumping. “Good. You guys are—I mean if you’re happy, that’s—that’s good. Deadpool has caused a lot of damage, and I mean a lot—"
“Feeling slightly offended now!”
“—but clearly there’s something there most of us haven’t seen. Colossus has been pushing to include him more often. And he did complete that mission for us. So maybe there’s some hope we'll make an X-Man out of him yet.”
“X-Person,” Wade corrected primly. “X-Them, if you will.”
Scott’s head turned briefly towards Wade, nodded, then back to Logan. “I’ll see you soon. It’s…it’s good to see you, Logan.” Emotion crept into his voice. “I mean it.”
“You too, Scott.” Logan said. Understatement of the year. “I’ll see you.”
They moved upstairs to the empty conference room. Logan had suggested Wade could leave if he wanted, but Wade shot it down.
“And miss the big family reunion? Hell no!”
“I don’t think you’re gonna get to be there,” Logan admitted. “Pretty sure it’s just going to be me, at least for now. This whole thing is…fuckin’ unreal. Surreal.”
“Lame,” Wade drawled. “I did all the fucking work. I should get to be there. So unfair. What am I supposed to do while you’re gone? I want to be where the action is.”
“Yeah, well, nothing’s going to be fun about this. Probably just a lot of talking and shit. I really fucking hate this part.”
“Are you hungry?” Wade asked out of nowhere. “Because I’m starving. They said they have lunch, right?”
Logan blinked. “Yeah. Yeah, I can get you some food. There’s a chef on duty every school day. Colossus said there’d be food.”
After checking the coast was clear, they went back downstairs. Logan felt absolutely ridiculous in his yellow suit, but standing next to Wade in his red, it wasn’t so bad. They made it to the kitchen and Logan stole a few sandwiches, handing one off to Wade.
It felt so…normal. Logan hated that he couldn’t relax, that he still felt on edge, but tried to focus on Wade.
Like he could tell Logan needed the distraction, he started talking about one of the times he’d visited the mansion and destroyed something while he devoured his sandwich. Several somethings, in fact—“Just a few statues of old white dudes”—and Logan watched him, eyes lingering on the way Wade’s mouth moved with the mask rolled up. He loved that mouth. Loved Wade, even when he was doing all the shit he wasn’t supposed to do. Even terrorizing the X-Men. He fucking loved him.
“And then even though I said ‘no touching’," Wade said, pulling his mask back down, "Colossus grabs me by the throat, which is one of my biggest turn-ons, and then he—”
“Hey,” Logan said, stopping Wade in the empty hallway. He kept his ears open, but everyone was in their classrooms. “I’m gonna kiss you.”
“I’m sorry, I misheard. I thought I heard you say you were going to kiss me.”
Logan reached over and undid the back of Wade’s mask. Wade’s hands clamped over his, but Logan only rolled it up again so his mouth was exposed. He backed Wade up against the wall and kissed him.
“Well, well, well,” Wade said when he pulled away. “I never took you for a sexual deviant. In public? My oh my, Mr. Wolverine. Kiss me again and make it sloppy.”
“It’s just a kiss,” Logan said, chuckling. The chuckle turned into a laugh. He kissed him once, then twice. The third time Logan shoved his tongue in Wade’s mouth, over his teeth, tasting him, and slid his hands around the back of Wade’s neck. He felt Wade’s moan reverberate in his mouth.
That was when Wade stopped him. “Don’t look to your right,” he whispered loudly.
God damn it. Logan tapped his fist on the wall next to Wade’s head.
“And you’re just now telling me.”
“I assumed you could smell them and didn’t care, peanut,” Wade said. As Logan moved, he quickly rolled his mask back down over his face. “You should see their faces.”
“I literally do not understand this,” Scott said beside them. “Not the you and Deadpool thing—I mean I don’t understand that either—but…you’re sure you’re the same Logan? You have never smiled like that.”
“Not for you,” Logan said, turning around fully. “Word to the fucking wise for everyone here. I will not put up with the shit I heard earlier from Scott or anyone else. If I hear one word said about Wade that isn’t directly regarding his behavior, we will have a fucking problem. Are we clear?”
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boytumms · 11 months
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I'm an intersex man who was raised female- so I guess I also count as transmasc? Lol. I'm with you on cis mpreg. Obviously I have nothing wrong w tmpreg. For soft stuff I prefer amab guys who either magically have the equipment or chose to change themselves. I think it hits with the part of me that kind of always knew I wasn't ""biologically"" one or the other. I can have my cake and eat it too. I think there's also something about people who were raised and socialised as men getting to share in whatever it is that makes pregnancy so appealing for us. Like. Our fantasy instead of just reality.
For kink I prefer the stomach >:] and.. I guess really stretchy intestines? 🤣
For me I think it use to come from not wanting to be pregnant myself so I didn’t really like tmpreg, but now I like both, I just have a preference towards cis mpreg.
In terms of the anatomy of it all, I agree with both of the things you said, I’m a fan of “womb somehow appears/develops in order for baby to be made”. Either connecting somewhere to the intestines or just forming it’s own exit, idk anything can happen since it’s all fantasy lol
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playingonedchess · 3 months
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i dont have any emotions. except being like annoyed that doesnt count. and bored. i feel bored and annoyed. thats my whole life theres nothing else. im bored with my life and annoyed at how rubbish i am. im boring and annoying. thats all i am in the world all there is to see and all anyone ever thinks of me. i appear as a person simply as bored and annoyed and boring and annoying and theres nothing else. its for the best anything else is too much effort and too embarrassing i coildnt do it. the more people are bored and annoyed by me and dismiss and ignore me the better its easier theres no effort and this way i dont care cause theres nothing there its all blank and nonexistent and meaningless so theres nothing to notice or even have an opinion on and its all no one nothing blank rubbish what was i even talking about
#this is just a thought experiment btw i was curious to see where it would go#though its true that theres nothing else to me as a person#i am capable of emotions though that bits more retorical anyway its not meant to ne literally true there#though the idea of denying you have emotions or personality meaning you dont express it so you really dont is surely true#though this isnt really about me actually#im just tired but its too bloody hot to sleep its ridiculous#so im just saying words seeing whete itd go evrn if it was a bit based on a thought i had about myself#not sure what thevpoint is of just sayinng random words its just rilubbish nothing real but im ibsesed with being dramatic#basically the unimaginitive version of making stuff up cause im bored only its boring stuff#at least the badgers gave me a good laugh#is it self plagarism if you send someone an ask they delete without reading them postbit on your blog#not like anyond know just makes me sound even lamer#even though literally the reason i send asks to that blog is i know theyll be ignored cause that persons already completely uninterested in#anything i have to say so i can say whatever rubbish i dont care even if it is read like if someonr aleady thinks im a loser i dont care#if they see more evidence of it and if theres total indifference even when i do say embarrassing rubbish then theres nothing there#but its still technically schrodingers interaction cause even though they would be read at all at this point the concrpt still exists#anyway thats completely off topic which was would posting the badger thing be embarrassing like no one sees it anyway its literally all for#my own sake
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buttercuparry · 18 days
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I know I sound like a broken record by now: repeating the same things others have said before but I think banality of it all is the point of my post. The fact that I have nothing new to say– not about the genocide in Gaza, not about the dwindling attention of allies, is HORRIFYING. 
It has been 11 months of a genocide that the UN calls “war on children”. Malnutrition, diseases, lack of suitable medical care have caused Gazan children to lose their childhood; to lose their lives entirely!  
There is no hope left for a future unmarked of pain and my friend Siraj Abudayeh ( @siraj2024 ) , who is father to three sons describes it as a “feeling of oppression”.  He laments that his children have been forced away from their schools, hopes and dreams  by colonizers and where before there were ambitions to excel in either studies or sports, all they know now is helplessness, fear and anger. 
Siraj has told me how his children- Abed, Muhammad and Amir have confessed to their father about how they have begun to  feel guilty for surviving at all now ; after having lost so many of their friends to the genocide they are experiencing survivor's guilt and it breaks my heart to hear that. Abed, the eldest son, is ONLY ELEVEN!!  Can you imagine an eleven year old feeling guilty because he has managed to survive while his friends haven't ? And what kind of survival it is– Half starving, drinking unclean water, forced into tents where sand mites pester him throughout the day?
I am not sure what happened or why the engagement with fundraisers has dropped so drastically lately but there is nothing more atrocious, more horrible than apathy when children are suffering.  It is so strange that we can quote James Baldwin so easily and yet have failed to understand what he meant when he said,
"The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe; ...whoever is incapable of recognizing this may be incapable of morality. ”
We have the power that is not afforded to Gazans and therefore it is on us to be attentive no matter how repetitive these posts feel. It is ridiculous and dehumanizing that during a genocide one has to worry about making a post original enough to maintain attention. And yes I know that we won't be able to stop the horrifying banality of Israel’s evil in a day but WE CAN help provide FIVE families that are dependent on this fundraiser with a lifeline during times such as these.  
Please we have managed to get this far after struggling for so long, it cannot be that we will fail Siraj when he is so close to the end goal of 82k !!
So DONATE AND BOOST. Find it in yourself to not just reblog but circulate the fundraiser among your colleagues, friends and family. Share it in your whatsapp chats and discord servers. Share it on every other platform that you may have a reach on.
Currently at $72,987 CAD of the short term goal of 75k. We have 2k left to raise by tomorrow. 
Vetting at 219
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badbtssmut · 2 months
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Magic Stick
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Jungkook is kinda sad because he has never been with a girl who could take him balls deep because of his size, reader doesn't believe him and she wants to see, but he tells her that he can't atm bc he's not hard. She is wearing this kinda halter top style with no bra so she looses the top and shows her tits to him and let's him touch them. After he's hard he shows her his dick and she says she's willing to try to take it all and she rides him into the sunset
Admin note: idea by anon
Contains: Big dick JK, handjob, some boobplay, missionary, riding, reader expresses that she is uncertain if it will fit, it takes some time getting it fully in ;), reader whimpers a bit, JK’s ex cheated on him, jk cums a lot
“What’s wrong with you?” You glanced over to your best friend, he has been in a horrible mood for a week and no one knew why. Not even your mutual friends knew what was up with Jungkook.
”It’s nothing.” He mumbled in response.
“Come on, I can tell something is bothering you.” You pushed.
"Fine. My girlfriend broke up with me.” He finally cracked.
"Wait, what?” You stood from the dining table, and inched closer to Jungkook who was sitting on the sofa. “Why’d she do that?" You question, shocked by the sudden news. "You two seemed so happy. What happened?"
"She… she was cheating on me.” He confessed.
"Are you fucking kidding me? What a bitch." You really couldn’t believe what you were hearing.
“Don’t blame her, I guess.” Jungkook said and shrugged his shoulders.
"Don't be silly. You’re too forgiving." You sighed.
"It's not that. The sex, my size— it just never worked out in bed. It was never a good fit." Jungkook confessed, a tinge of sadness in his voice.
"So, you're saying, she dumped you ‘cause of your dick size? The fuck? That's just shallow. Why would she do that?" You sat next to him.
"Yeah, it didn’t fit, literally. I’d hurt her, it wasn’t going to work out from the start. We tried a few times, but the whole experience was just awful. I guess she couldn't stand it anymore." He said, defeated.
“That doesn't make any sense, surely you aren’t that big? Are you sure she’s not just making excuses?” You couldn’t believe his ex would end things with him over his size.
"No, I am that big." Jungkook replied.
"Really?" You were skeptical.
"I've always had a big dick." He added.
"Show me."
"What?"
"Show me." You repeated. “I just want to know if you’re bullshitting or not.”
"No." He declined, looking at you as if you said the most ridiculous thing ever, clearly embarrassed by your request.
"Oh, come oooon, we are best friends. It’s not like I’ve never seen a dick before in my life." You rolled your eyes. "I'm not going to judge you, I promise. Just let me see."
"Fine." Jungkook sighed. "But… I’m not hard now.” He muttered.
“Will my boobs make you hard?“
“Hell yeah. You got great tits." He said, a bit too enthusiastic, as if he had been dreaming of the day you’d offer your tits in return to see his cock. You stood right in front of him, loosening the straps of your halter top. His mouth was slightly open, as he looked at you, completely mesmerized. You removed the straps from your shoulders and let the shirt fall to your tummy, revealing your breasts.
"Like what you see?" You teased.
"Yeah. Very much." He was nearly drooling at the sight.
"Want to touch them?"
"Fuck, yeah." He nodded, eager. You stepped closer and his hands were instantly on you. Squeezing your breasts, rubbing his thumbs on your nipples, taking it all in. When he was done caressing your tits with his hands, he started to suck and lick on them, at which you moaned softly, and the sound of it made him rock hard. He was definitely huge, you could see the tent forming on his pants.
"Are you sure you want to see it? It's… quite big." He was almost apologetic, as if his huge dick was some sort of inconvenience for others.
“I do, show me already.” You chuckled, not sure what he was being shy for.
"Okay." He nodded, unbuckling his belt, and lowering his jeans, together with his boxers.
Holy shit.
How was a dick that big even possible? You didn't even think that dicks like that actually existed. And it wasn't just long, but also thick. No wonder his ex broke up with him. You were pretty sure that dick wouldn't fit anywhere.
"Wow." You couldn't believe your eyes.
"Told you. It's big. You wouldn’t believe me." He shrugged.
"Can I touch it?" You asked, still unable to avert your eyes.
"If you want." He agreed, a little surprised but not put off by the idea.
You grabbed his dick and slowly moved your hand up and down his length, marveling at how big and heavy it was, how thick. His cock was truly impressive, and it seemed to get even bigger as you stroked him. You wondered what it would be like to take him.
“Wow. This is amazing. How can you fit this inside a girl?" You were truly impressed, and couldn't help but keep stroking his cock.
"I can't." He admitted, his breathing starting to quicken. “No girl can take it, they always start out confident but when it’s actually in… they can't take it. Not even halfway through. I have never met a girl that can take me all the way, even the ones that brag about having experience are not able to." He sounded dejected.
"I bet I can." You challenged him.
"No. You can't. There's no way." He scoffed. All of the girls said the exact same thing, and it never worked out, ever.
“Want to bet? If I can’t take it, I’ll give you 200 bucks.” You said, not convinced by his pessimism.
"200 dollars? That's a lot of money." He said, surprised by your proposal, but he shrugged. “But alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
"Are you sure about this?" He asked, for what seemed to be the hundredth time.
“If you ask me one more time… I will leave." You said, annoyed.
"Sorry. Just don’t want to hurt you." He apologized with a defeated sigh. It made you feel bad for getting annoyed, but Jungkook really had nothing to worry about.
You got this.
Jungkook held onto his cock as he pushed the head of it against your slick pussy lips. Your body tensed a bit, but he took his time, working on you slowly. You breathed deeply and relaxed, spreading your legs further as his shaft dragged against your sensitive skin. His cock was so hard and thick that it rubbed against every single inch of your folds.
Jungkook continued to move his hips back and forth, his errection dragging against your clit with each thrust. The sensation was amazing, and your body was trembling in pleasure, and he wasn’t even in yet.
The tip poked against your lower belly as he continued to rub the shaft against your pussy, his hips moving slow and steady.
“Want it.” You whined.
“Yeah?” He whispered.
"Yeah."
He lined himself up with your entrance, pressing the head against it. You tilted your head back, fuck, that was only the head, how could you feel this full already?
Jungkook began to slide his cock into your wet, aching pussy. His cock was stretching you out so wide, it felt incredible. He stopped when the head was all the way in, giving you a moment to adjust. Jungkook slowly pushed his cock deeper inside you, inch by inch. You could feel his cock filling up every inch of you, the stretch and pressure so intense, it was almost too much.
"Shit, you’re stretching me so good…” You moaned, as his cock kept going deeper.
"How are you taking it so well? I can't believe you can take it this far, pussy takes big cock so good, baby." He pushed in more, eager to fill you with every inch.
You couldn't speak, the sensations were overwhelming. It felt like your pussy was being stretched to its limits, and there was a pressure deep inside you that made your mind go blank.
Jungkook's cock was buried all the way inside you now. You were filled up completely, and it was the most amazing feeling you'd ever experienced.
"Don’t move,” It felt as if he would rip you in two if he pulled out even a little bit. "Not yet. Give me a minute." You whimpered, as you adjusted to his length and girth.
Jungkook nodded, kissing your neck, his hands cupping your breasts.
“This is how pussy feels, huh? Fuck, this is amazing. So tight, warm, perfect." He whispered against your ear, as he kept his dick deep inside. “It’s like my cock is being choked and squeezed, so good.”
“Told you… I could take it.” You said in a shaky breath, sitting up only to peek at where your bodies were joined, impressed to see how your body managed to take that monster cock in.
“You can move now." You gave him permission.
Jungkook started to move his hips back and forth.
The pressure from his dick was too intense, it felt like you were being split open, and you thought you were going to pass out from how good it felt. You held in your breath, unable to moan as you tilted your head back and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his cock stretching you wide.
Whereas you were silent, Jungkook was grunting, groaning, panting, moaning, he couldn’t contain his pleasure. Jungkook was overwhelmed by the feeling of being buried deep inside you. His thrusts were slow and deep, his cock pushing against your inner walls, massaging them.
You opened your eyes and glanced at his face, he looked like he was in ecstasy, his mouth was open and he was moaning with every thrust.
His cock felt incredible, so big, so deep.
You had never felt anything like it before.
"I can't believe I'm fucking a pussy that can take my whole cock. Shit, it feels amazing. Pussy is so tight and wet. So fucking good. Never felt anything like it. Fuck!” Jungkook licked his bottom lip, picking up the pace.
Jungkook was pounding you now, his cock thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy, hitting all the right spots. Fuck, you were seeing stars, your whole body was on fire.
You couldn't stop yourself from screaming in pleasure. You spread your legs as far as you possible could, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you. Jungkook continued his relentless rhythm, his thrusts were hard and fast, the sounds of his cock slamming into your pussy filled the room.
The feeling of his dick filling you up was indescribable, it was pure bliss.
“Want to ride you, want to sit on that cock." You needed to feel in control, and you wanted him to watch you as you sat on his massive dick.
Jungkook pulled out and laid down on the bed, his dick standing straight up, and you couldn’t wait to take it all again.
You straddled his hips, hovering above his erection and you slowly lowered yourself down onto his cock, gasping as it slid into you, the pressure and friction sending waves of pleasure through your body.
Jungkook's hands were on your ass, helping you move up and down on his cock. He was thrusting his hips upward, matching your rhythm, driving his dick even deeper into you.
"God, you look so hot riding my cock. Never would’ve thought to see this.” He bit his lip, his eyes roaming over your body.
"So big…” All you could think of was how his cock felt inside of you, how shallow it might sound… you couldn’t even think of the person attached to it.
Jungkook was now holding onto your hips, pulling you down harder onto his dick. His thrusts were strong, and fast, and it felt so fucking good.
"Fuck, I can't last any longer. Gonna cum soon." His thrusts became erratic and he was moaning loudly, his whole body shaking. You rested your hands on his chest, grinding against him, trying to match his rhythm.
"Y/N… like that, love it just like that." He moaned, his breathing unsteady, his fingers now gripping into your thighs.
“Yes, yes…” You whispered, riding his cock, feeling your own orgasm build up inside of you.
“Ah!” Jungkook beat you to it, his body stiffened as his cum spurted inside of you, filling you up. He was gasping for air, his face was flushed, and his grip on your hips loosened, he ran his fingers through his hair as he squirted his cum deep inside of you. It was as if he had a never ending supply of cum, shooting spurt after spurt, his cock throbbing as it emptied its load inside you.
“Keep going, y/n, you didn’t come yet, I’ll stay hard, take what you need, keep going." He encouraged, his breathing still shaky, his dick was still hard, and it was pulsating inside you.
"Yeah." You whispered, continuing to bounce on his dick, the feeling of his cum inside of you and the sight of him beneath you, sweaty, breathing hard, his hair sticking to his forehead, was so incredibly sexy. The sound of your drenched in cum pussy sucking him back in was loud, his cock coated in your juices and the cum that was spilling out of you was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
You leaned back, resting your hands on his thighs as you moved up and down, faster, deeper, until you were finally climaxing, your orgasm taking over your body. Your body shook and your eyes fluttered open and shut as the warmth spread through your whole body, you had never felt anything like it before. You could feel the hot cum leaking out of you, and it just kept coming.
Your hips slowed as you rode out your orgasm, and when it was over, you collapsed onto the bed, panting.
“Jungkook?”
“Yeah?”
“You owe me 200 bucks.”
5K notes · View notes
writersdrug · 10 days
Note
Price getting reader a step stool cause she keeps asking Bartender!Ghost to reach stuff for her. Simon obviously brakes it when no ones looking. 👀🤭
LOL
"Is this your way of insulting me?" You ask, holding the colorful, children's stepstool in your hands. You're grimacing at it, a look that has Price chuckling as he folds up the bag from the store.
"I figured you could use it - now ya don't have to wait for Simon to grab anything for you." He says, patting you on the shoulder.
"I don't mind the wait..." You mumble under your breath. The stool feels as decorative as a clowns nose as you tuck it under your arm and head towards the stairs. "I'm keeping it upstairs, I don't need customers laughing at me when I pull this out. Might take it home and spray paint it."
"Suit yourself." Price calls as you bound up the stairs. He heads over to the bar, where Simon is currently polishing the glasses you convinced him to order for the Halloween drink.
"Got a problem with me helpin' 'er?" Simon says, thick fingers rubbing the glass with a rag. He doesn't mean to sound defensive... but he can't help the bite in his tone.
Price smirks, picking up on the jealousy laced into Simon's words. "Thought you might like it. Makes your life easier, and 'ers." He pops open the register and starts filtering through the bills, replacing the larger value ones with smaller ones.
"You don't think I'm capable of runnin' a bar and helping you waitress at the same time?"
"No, but I think you'd be better off if you didn't have to run so much. She's brought in so much business as it is, your workload's gotten heavier."
Simon huffs. "Ya just want to separate us, hm? Want 'er all to yourself." He jokes, grabbing another glass and buffing it.
Price shrugs. "And if I am?" He says, giving him a side glance.
Ghost slows his ministrations, turning his head to his captain. They both stare at each other for a moment, Simon with his slightly angry, slightly questioning glare, and Price with his unwavering eyes. Simon wants to tell him to back down, that you're his - but he can't say that, because you aren't his. He wants you to be. But he doesn't know how to make it happen without letting his walls down.
Price chuckles, turning back to the register to continue swapping bills. "Y'know, if you want to say somethin' you'd best say it." He comments, snapping the drawer shut. "Missed opportunities often come from miscommunication."
He leaves Simon at the bar, heading towards the stairs with his money folder. You jog down the steps and nearly crash into him - he quickly grabs your shoulders and spins you out of the way before you can collide with him. You throw a "sorry!" over your shoulder as you carry an armful of various fruits, leaving Price chuckling as he ascends the stairs to the office.
"The oranges up there aren't looking too great." You chirp, dumping the fruit onto his workspace. A few lemons and limes roll onto the floor, and you bend down to chase them. Simon watches you, a bit miffed at how unaware you were of the situation. What do you think of Price? Do you like him? Would you flirt with him as much as you do with Simon?
You return with the escaped fruit. "I can run to Sevvy's store and grab some for tonight, if you want? The ones upstairs are looking a bit pruney."
"Are you actually gonna use that thing?"
"Huh?" You look at him with confusion written on your face. "What thing?"
"The stool." He looks down at you, his expression unreadable. "'S a bit demeaning, don'tcha think?"
You paused, watching him move the fruit to the side and grab a plastic cutting board. "I mean... he bought it, and I wouldn't have to bug you so much. If I spray paint it black or something, it won't look that ridiculous."
He nods. "Hm."
"I used it to grab the fruit."
"That's interestin'." He mumbles, slicing through an orange. You were right, they have seen better days.
He turns to pop open the register and hands you some bills. "Go get a few oranges, no more than ten. Order should be comin' in tomorrow."
You smile and take the money, stuffing it in your back pocket. With a few hours remaining before the restaurant opens, you go through the kitchen, grab your jacket, and head out the back.
Simon's back to chopping fruit and dumping it into a small bin, bitterly thinking over what Price had said. It's a stool. Price got it to help you and himself. It was a thoughtful purchase. But it's not just that. However unserious this is to Price, he's trying to rile Simon up. He's treating you like the last slice of cake in the tin - Price would like to have it, but he knows Simon's groveling for it. He's forcing Simon to ask for what he wants, and the bartender doesn't like that one bit. Normally, it wouldn't be something that irks him so easily - but this is you we're talking about. Not just anything. You. He wants to grab Price by the collar and throw him into next week with how he's trying to wedge between you and Simon - but he doesn't like having a weakness. He'll keep his cool for now. He'll make a move... eventually.
For now, the only aggressive side he'll present is passive.
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Price leaves late that night, somewhere between two and three in the morning. He's beat, spending most of the night between helping you run food and drinks, and fifo-ing the pantry and overflow rooms. He's planning for a day off - of course, after he goes to the bank and comes back here to pay everyone. He's jealous of Simon, who's already upstairs for the night - he wishes he only had a short trip to the third floor before he could crash into his bed. Rather, he has to trek a hefty number of blocks home through the dark streets. He's more worried about going to bed at a decent hour than walking around at night with a bag full of money - people usually steer clear of him when they see his stature.
He locks the back door behind him, puffing out a foggy breath into the frigid air. It's only getting colder - he'll have to break out his cloves and scarf soon. The beanie won't be enough. He shoves one hand into his pocket, the other holding a small bag of trash from the office. He mentally ticks off what he needs to do this week as he grabs the garbage bins, dragging them behind him and towards the street for the trucks to empty in the morning. He pushes them against the store front, taking the lid off and dropping the light trash bag inside.
The loud thunk makes him do a double take. Did he throw away something important? He lifts the bag once again, and a disappointed expression falls upon his face. The colorful kiddie stool he bought for you is there, pieces snapped apart and shoved deep into the bin. Simon didn't even try to hide it underneath the other bags. It's almost like he left it there for Price to catch.
He sighs, dropping the bag and placing the lid back. He trudged down the sidewalk towards his home - he's not too upset by it. He had a feeling Ghost was sinking his teeth into you, and frankly, it's gotten to the point where Price is afraid of what the man might do if someone else tries to take you away. But damn, if his ex-lieutenant's going to make a move, he'd better make a fucking move. For your sake, if not his own.
He pulls his phone from his pocked and shoots Simon a quick, blunt message.
You're paying me back for that.
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maxtermind · 1 month
Note
texting the f1 men about the fatass hickeys they left on us from the night before
f1 drivers reacting to the hickeys they left on you
★ : feat :: max verstappen, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, oscar piastri, lewis hamilton, george russell, alex albon
( misc. masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request )
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⤷.>ᗜ<.MAX VERSTAPPEN !
max loves you the most in the world or so he thinks. what he really loves the most is how he teases you tease you, and this time is no different.
when you point out the giant hickey and whine, he smirks, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “oops, my bad,” your boyfriend says with a shrug, there’s nothing apologetic about his tone and it baffles you just how smug he is being.
you narrow your eyes at him, knowing full well he did it on purpose. you stand up before pointing a finger at him and he immediately speaks before you can.
“or maybe it was my plan all along,” he adds quickly, his smirk widening though he tries to make it go away. you huff in mock frustration, again before you can retort, he pulls you into his lap, kissing you softly.
“i'm putting you on ban,” you mutter softly against his lips, trying to fake being mad. “you can try,” max murmurs back, his hands gently tracing the outline of the hickey he left.
you sigh and shake your head as you watch your boyfriend admiring the marks he left on you.
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⤷.>ᗜ<.CHARLES LECLERC !
charles can’t help the grin that spreads across his face when you mention the hickey, his eyes lighting up with a mix of pride and mischief. that pisses you off majorly.
“looks like my most precious masterpiece,” he says proudly, tilting his head while he gently holds your chin to admire the mark he left as if it were a work of art.
“i should’ve signed it.” you give him a playful shove, but he just laughs, clearly pleased with himself. “let's sign it.”
“you’re absolutely ridiculous,” you say, trying to sound annoyed, but the way he’s looking at you with such adoration makes it impossible to stay mad. the butterflies in your stomach going losing their minds along with you.
“ridiculously in love with you,” charles counters, his voice softening as he pulls you into his arms. a snort leaves you before you give in and hug him back.
your boyfriend presses a gentle kiss to the hickey, his lips lingering there as if to seal his claim. “and i’m not sorry about it,” he adds with a grin, making you roll your eyes but unable to hide the smile that’s tugging at your lips.
charles has a way of making even the most exasperating things feel like a sweet gesture of love, and this is no exception. not that you were too mad to begin with.
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⤷.>ᗜ<.CARLOS SAINZ !
carlos raises an eyebrow when you mention the size of the hickey, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “that’s because everything i do is larger than life, baby,” he says confidently, leaning back with a satisfied grin.
you huff , crossing your arms over your chest. “more like larger than necessary,” you quip back, trying to sound annoyed, but his confidence is infectious.
he chuckles, reaching out to pull you into his lap with ease. “necessary? i think you mean legendary,” he corrects, his voice low and teasing as he nuzzles your neck, brushing his lips against the hickey he left.
you’re about to protest, but the way his hands hold you so securely and his lips trace gentle patterns on your skin makes it hard to stay mad.
“just admit it,” he whispers against your ear and the tingles hit you like a punch to your stomach. “you still want more.” you hold eye contact, opening your lips to tell him just how less you want when he suddenly switches the position.
a yelp leaves your mouth instead as he towers over you,“you were saying something, baby?” but as he rubs your skin under your shirt, it feels too good to just end it so you say nothing as you just stare at your boyfriend before you squeeze him back and he knows he’s won.
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⤷.>ᗜ<.LANDO NORRIS !
lando’s grin could probably blind anyone cause of how it shines through as soon as you mention the hickey. his eyes light up with mischief, and he leans in closer to inspect the mark with an exaggerated look of admiration, lips pursued and hand to his chin.
“looks like i’ve marked my territory well,” he teases with a straight face, running his fingers gently over the spot and you shove him away. knowing your neck and cheeks were red enough to give away what you were really feeling.
but the way his grin widens tells you he knows exactly how you’re secretly enjoying it and probably hat is going to happen next. he tilts your chin up, his voice dropping to a lower, more sincere tone.
“now everyone knows you’re taken,” he says, before sucking a bit atop the hickey he left behind, sending shivers down your spine though you try to keep your restrain up.
“by a vampire?” you snap and instantly gulp, gaze softening as you watch your boyfriend's head being pulled back as he laughs. your hands shake gently as you hold his head and pull it towards yours. lando kisses you back right then, smirking a bit against your lips.
he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his playful grin softening into something more affectionate. “if that's what it takes to keep you.”
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⤷.>ᗜ<.OSCAR PIASTRI !
oscar’s eyes widen in surprise when you tell him about the hickey, he pockets his phone as he walks over to you. you snicker because honestly, it's hard to catch your boyfriend off guard usually.
“what? where? from me?” he stammers, his face blanches. clearly panicking. you can’t help but giggle out at his bewilderment, watching as he tries to piece together how he could’ve left such a mark without realizing it.
“do i need to draw you a map?” you tease, but he’s already reaching for his phone, attempting to find a hack so it could get covered up. you gently stop him, still chuckling at his flustered state.
“it’s not that serious,” you assure him, but he still looks like he’s trying to figure out how he really feels about doing this to you on a day he knows you're going out with your boyfriends. your two steps ahead though and kissing him when you watch him lost in his head.
finally, he lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head at himself. “i guess i got a bit carried away,” oscar admits sheepishly, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.
he pulls you into a hug, pressing a soft kiss to the spot he marked. “at least no boy would dare to approach you,” he adds with a grin that makes your heart stop.
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⤷.>ᗜ<.LEWIS HAMILTON !
lewis’s face immediately softens when you show him the hickey, his eyes filling with concern and a touch of guilt. “oh no, i’m so sorry, love,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing lightly over the mark as if he could somehow undo it with just a touch.
“i didn’t mean to get carried away.” you smile at his genuine remorse, gently cupping his cheek and pulling him closer. “it’s okay, lewis, it’s not the end of the world,” you reassure him, but he still looks like he’s beating himself up over it.
“i just want to make sure i’m always treating you right,” he says softly, his voice laced with sincerity. he presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment.
“of course you are,” you whisper before lightly biting your lip. “especially when you take me like you did last night.”
“next time, i’ll be more careful… unless, of course, you don't want me to,” he adds with a teasing grin, catching up to how you were feeling about the situation.
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⤷.>ᗜ<.GEORGE RUSSELL !
it was almost comical how george freezes when you mention the hickey, his eyes darting to yours with a mixture of surprise and worry. “you could say it was uh… a mosquito?” he tries, his voice shaky and uncertain.
you burst out laughing, and his tense expression softens, though he still looks a bit worried about your reaction. “okay, fine, i know that won't work,” your boyfriend admits, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly unsure of how you’re feeling about it.
“but i’ll buy you a scarf or something to cover it up!” he quickly offers, his voice tinged with nervousness. you shake your head, still smiling as you step closer to him. “it’s okay, george, i don’t mind,” you say, wrapping your arms around his waist.
he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and pulls you into a tight hug, his face nuzzling into your hair. “you sure? i’ll still get you the scarf,” he mumbles against your hair, making you giggle.
“wonder what you'll do after i will mark you before some race weekend.” you tease, and he chuckles softly, finally relaxing.
though his body stiffs again when he gets a text n the group chat with your friends of how they are all changing his contact name to: y/n's pet mosquito.
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⤷.>ᗜ<.ALEX ALBON !
alex’s blinks at you in surprise when you mention the hickey, tilting his head as if he’s not quite sure he heard you right. you soon realise that he's just acting when he opens his mouth.
“you’re welcome! that one’s on the house,” your boyfriend announces cheekily, clearly proud of the mark he left. you raise an eyebrow, already knowing where this conversation is headed.
“but the next one will cost you a kiss,” he adds, winking at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. you shake your head, pretending to be annoyed, but the smile threatening to break through gives you away.
“that’s not how this works!” you protest, but he just shrugs, pulling you into his arms with that effortless charm of his. “with me, it does,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, flirtatious tone as he leans in to kiss you.
“my love bites don't come for free.” alex mutters, laughing loudly at his own joke. “more like a love chomp.” you drawl, smiling tightly when you watch his brows furrow.
alex just settles to kissing you again to shut you up. his lips soft against yours, and you find yourself melting into it, any thoughts of the hickey long forgotten.
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©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
★ : a/n :: i'm aware that this was a text request but i wanted to write some fluff for a change, sorryyy🥲 new format lmk how you like it :3 feedback and reblogs are appreciated!
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thebestsetter · 1 month
Text
"If I was a color, I think I'd be yellow"
"Why?"
"Non-important. I just feel it"
He has never seen yellow the same way again. It was everywhere. He looked for it everywhere. And everytime, without fail, he remembered you. A pretty sunflower. Your blinding smile. A little minion figure he saw on the mall. You crying after watching the latest "Despicable Me" movie (and him laughing at your cute stupid crying face). A silly Winnie the Pooh keychain on a crying child's backpack. You talking to the said sad kid you both saw on the street and trying to cheer them up, playing with them and making sure they were smiling, their worries melting away in the speed of light (you'd make such a great mother, he thinks, making his face grow bright red right after). The sun in all of it's glory. You. You. You. You.
You were like a plague infecting his brain and soul. He couldn't focus on anything anymore because you were always running through his head, the sound of your laugh playing inside his mind 24/7 and driving him half insane. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to ask you why you said to him you were yellow. How did you know? What made you so sure of it? Why you had put him under this spell in which everytime he catches just the smallest and quickest glimpse of yellow, the image of you came flooding his mind and senses? Did you even think about him the same amount of times he thought about you? He didn't know. He couldn't know unless he asked you. And it was not fair. Not fair at all.
"Remember that day you told me you were yellow?"
"Yeah" you said, stopping mid-sip of your milkshake and looking at him with your beautiful a confused face "Yeah, I do. Why?"
"You never gave me an answer to the question I asked you that day" he ignored how the first sentence you said made his heart fluster and his stomach go silly.
"Which question?" How humilliating. He's gonna have to swallow his pride and repeat it. Utterly ridiculous.
"Why?" He couldn't care less about how hurt his ego was right now "Actually, how. How did you know you're yellow?"
"Easy. It's 'cause yellow and purple are opposites, so they look good when put together"
"What?"
"Yellow and purple are on opposite sides of the color wheel, silly! So they're complementary colors and go well together"
"I know that. But what does purple have to do with you being yellow?"
"You remind me of purple"
And suddenly, he realized yellow has never been alone. Next to the beautiful sunflower, there's a bellflower, that looks gloom when compared to the yellow plant, but basks in the joy it seems to bring nonetheless. Just like you are the one to bring joy to his life. Beside the minion figure, there's a figure of those bad purple minions, and while one is considered pretty, funny and nice, the other one is scary, angry and people tend to avoid them. It reminds him of you two: extroverted and kind you and introverted and rude him. Perfect opposites. Perfect together. He hadn't noticed before, but the child's backpack was purple, and this memory was followed by the the sound of the laughs you and the little fella shared. Kids should always be happy, smiling, harmless and having fun. Comfortable. Safe. In that way, you make him feel like a little kid. Your warm embrace, so protective and oh so motherly. He feels relaxed around you. Overjoyed. And even though he doesn't smile a lot, you always seem to make him want to crack a real, big grin. It must be a superpower of yours. Lastly, the sun, always followed by the moon. Even though they don't "meet" often, when they do, they create one of the prettiest phenomena known to humanity: an eclipse. They're always apart, but when they're together, it's so beautiful that the whole world stops to see.
"That's cringy. And kinda stupid."
"No it's not! We're a perfect duo! Just admit it!!"
"'Course we are"
"What did you say? I didn't quite hear you!!"
"I'm not saying it again."
So don't act surprised when your wedding is full of beautiful sunflowers and bellflowers. You should see it coming. They look good together right? Just like you two.
RIN ITOSHI, Kunigami Rensuke, Nagi Seishiro, MICHAEL KAISER, Barou Shohei, SAE ITOSHI, TODOROKI SHOTO, SHINSOU HITOSHI, BAKUGOU KATSUKI, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, TSUKISHIMA KEI (his name's kanji meaning moon is just so-- perfect fot this fic) , Osamu Miya, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO + any character you think fits this!!
Curiosity!!!: Bellflowers mean "everlasting love and commitment" in flower language, while sunflowers mean steadfast love!!
Masterlist
Wrote this in the middle of my portuguese class. I hate it. I'm in love with him
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cute-little-crow · 22 days
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A seemingly innocent text message leads to a chain of events that turns your entire day upside down… who could have anticipated that?
Hey baby… I’m having the worst day at work. Everyone is really grouchy and I’m struggling to concentrate. Really wish I didn’t have to put up with this today. Sorry for being a downer, I hope your day is going better than mine!! Love you 💞
feat: Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier & Zayne (separately)
tw: female reader, fluff, suggestive, roleplay of kidnap (reader is in no danger), mentions of bomb threats (not genuine and not condoned in the slightest), bratty behaviour (mostly Raf), faked medical emergencies, sorry if I missed anything, Zayne being the most rational of the bunch (obvs)
an: I’d be happy to flesh out and expand any of these if there is interest (especially Xavier’s cause his was real fun 😏) 💖
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His phone pinged from across the studio, a sound he could never ignore, especially when it was the tone he used only for you…
With a paintbrush tucked behind his ear, he leapt gracefully from his stool and wiped the dusty remnants of dried paint from his fingers onto his trousers. The white shirt messily—although he might say, artistically—tucked into the waistband was already streaked with the hue of colours making up his latest creation, and a purple smudge darkened the tip of his nose.
Rafayel smiled when your name emblazoned across the screen, but it faltered as he hastily scanned the neat little rows of text. He was full-blown frowning by the time he finished, mood darkened by the idea that there were people in the world that could allow you to feel so badly.
Didn’t they know you were better than they were? That you hung the moon and the stars. Made the tides rise and fall. Without you, their world would be devoid of colour—how mundane.
He wouldn’t stand for it, he couldn’t.
For the next thirty minutes he planned out his strategy. Scribbling ideas down only to angrily score them through when he realised how ridiculous they were. He needed something simple, and most importantly, believable.
A sudden idea popped into his head and he set off before he could change his mind… poor, poor you.
~
You wish you had been exaggerating when you sent off that earlier message, but today truly had been a total clusterfuck. It was barely noon and already you longed for the clutches of sleep that would come when you were tucked up in bed tonight.
The sour mood of your colleagues was rubbing off on you more than you would like, and the dark cloud of negative energy only grew bigger and more dense until it was impossible to see an inch in front of your nose.
Tapping your pen against the edge of your keyboard, you stared where the words should be occupying your screen. A blank document stared back—mocking you. With a frustrated growl, you sank forward with your head on your arms.
“Oh, there you are! Why are you still here?”
The frantic voice of your boss took you by surprise, peering up before jolting upright in your chair.
“Where else would I be?” You asked tentatively, mentally wondering if you had somehow missed a meeting.
“The hospital!! Your boyfriend is in reception bleeding all over the desk! He’s refusing an ambulance and says he’ll only go to the hospital if you take him. Come on, hurry!”
Panic froze your heart. Terror turning your blood to ice in your veins.
Rafayel came into view and immediately, you knew. You were going to kill your dumbass boyfriend for pulling such a ludicrous stunt. What was he thinking and why couldn’t anyone else smell the overwhelming scent of strawberries from the syrup he was claiming was blood?
“My love… at last. I don’t know that I can hold on much longer, please, take my hands,” he enthused, rivalling the most hammiest of actors.
Your lips pursed, and his eyes widened. Despite it all, you played along if only to get the security guard and receptionist to calm down. Taking his sticky strawberry fingers into yours, you cooed in your best impression of genuine concern.
“I can’t believe you didn’t go straight to the hospital, Rafayel. You might have bled out in my office reception, let’s get you out of here. Does it hurt? No, no… I’ll manage,” you reassured the ashen looking security guard whilst squeezing Rafayel’s fingers in a death grip.
He squeaked out a groan of genuine pain, but he deserved it for causing such a scene at your workplace. His bottom lip stuck out in a petulant pout that was only visible to you, corralling him along until you were in the staff car park and able to shove him bodily into the passenger seat.
You kept up the pretence until you were out of sight of the building and any security cameras before pulling over into a side street and cutting the engine without saying a word.
“I was—”
“Trying to get me fired?” you supplied, turning in your seat and pulling wet wipes out of the glovebox by the fistful.
Rafayel continued to look petulant, but the sticky mess smeared on his cheek and neck as well as covering both his hands and the cuffs of his shirt were too ridiculous for you to stay mad.
You giggled, and he side eyed you—cautiously. “You look… good enough to eat, baby. Smell good too.” Leaning close, you licked through the mess of syrup streaked over his hammering pulse point and heard his breathless little hiccup.
“It wasn’t my best plan ever, but it got you out of work, right?”
It was hard to argue with that. You conceded with a nod, starting the engine once more and peeling back into traffic.
“Mhm, true, and you brought me dessert. It’s a good thing that strawberry tarts are my favourite.”
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Sylus welcomed the distraction of his phone vibrating from the pocket of his trousers. He had spent the better part of his morning listening to those with more money than sense, bumble through negotiations he had no intention of seeing through to fruition. But even so, he liked to dangle the carrot and see how high he could make them jump. Call it an entertainment of sorts.
“This meeting is over,” he intoned flatly, quickly rereading your message a second time whilst his frustration tried valiantly to leak outward.
The room emptied hastily—much to everyone’s relief—and once alone with his thoughts, Sylus let out a long aggravated sigh. His nostrils flared. His fingers drummed a war song against the enamel of his desk.
He supported your independence with his whole heart but there were times, like these, that he wished you would simply quit and join him in running his growing empire. Whilst he understood your reservations, and he certainly knew that he would be rather indulgent with your time if you worked side by side, he was not purely driven by his dick—only sometimes.
“Luke. Kieran. Get in here,” he called out.
Mere seconds later the brothers appeared, inquisitive though it might be hard for some to tell given the masks. Sylus leant back in his chair, debating his course of action and whether or not you might just explode when he pulled the trigger, metaphorically speaking.
“Yes Boss?” The brothers said in almost perfect unison, mischief evident in their voices.
“I need a favour, and I want you to make it convincing…”
~
This meeting was akin to listening to nails being scoured down a chalkboard, and that was about the most polite way you could put it.
You chewed on the end of your pen, anything to distract from the presentation being blasted at you from the large projector screen on the conference wall. Around you sat your colleagues and superiors, most looking equally bored, although a few opted to sit straight backed and bright eyed—the kiss asses—as you referred to them.
The hands of your watch seemed to move at half speed and you couldn’t believe there was another full hour ahead before you could find some solace during your lunch break.
An alarm pierced through the monotonous voice of the presenter on screen, you and your colleagues glanced around in confusion as it sounded unlike any fire alarm you had been present for. You sat up in your seat, twisting around to see people scurrying past the frosted glass windows until someone crashed into the door as if they had run flat out to get here.
“We’ve received a report that there’s a bomb in the building! Everyone out. Now! Don’t be stupid,” the man who you assumed was a part of security yelled at the nearest girl who had asked to go back to her desk to grab her bag. “Exit quickly and calmly. Don’t go back for anything!”
For someone advocating calmness, he sprinted away looking the absolute contrary to his guidance, but you didn’t have time to muse on it when everyone started to push and shove out of the doorway.
It wasn’t long before the panic and hushed conversations behind hands from the meeting point nearly a block away died down to be replaced by angry tuts and speculation over what might have happened.
There was a growing sense that the call had been a hoax which put nobody in a good mood, and you couldn’t blame them. Your car keys were back at your desk so you didn’t even have the option to leave.
Thankfully, you had your phone and whilst you had been scrolling social media—which was blowing up with the bomb threat news—a message popped up…
Need a ride, kitten?
You glanced around, eyes narrowed for the telltale flash of crimson but found none.
Maybe I do… maybe I don’t. Y’know, I’m surprised you’re not more concerned.
Concerned? Why should I be concerned? There’s no bomb. Keep walking this way, sweetie, you’re getting warmer.
You stopped in your tracks, mind whirring with the implication of his words. He didn’t… he wouldn’t. Fuck, he absolutely would.
Did you call in a fucking bomb threat?! You’re insane!!
Your steps had taken you closer to the mouth of a side street, it was shadowy and you didn’t so much as see Sylus, as you did sense him. The hairs on your neck stood to attention and for all your storming anger, you couldn’t deny the desire and affection curling around you.
“No,” Sylus purred into your ear from behind, looming out whatever blind spot he had stalked you from to rub a hand up your arm. “I didn’t call it in…”
“So it was Luke and Kieran, those two pests probably laughed themselves sick once it was done.”
Sylus tsked gently. He drew you carefully into his chest and kissed the crown of your head, happy to be reunited, even if it was the result of foul play. “Let them have their little fun, kitten. You wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t.”
It was impossible to stay mad, it was really was. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes and cupped his cheek until you could claim his lips, slow and deliberate.
“I hope you won’t pull these kind of stunts when we’re working together…”
His breathing stalled at your quip. Vermillion eyes searching yours for deceit or misplaced humour and finding nothing but truth. Sylus smiled…
“That’s a promise I can’t make, sweetie. But, I can promise you won’t regret your decision for a single second.”
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Boredom was not something that Xavier handled well. He needed the thrill of the hunt, the adrenaline of the fight or the total blankness of deep, uninterrupted sleep.
So, perhaps it was serendipitous that you should text him at the precise moment he was ready to tug on his hair with the lack of activity. His smile was short-lived as he read the message, wishing he could somehow help.
Is there a way I could help, my starlight?
Xavier stared at his phone for a few seconds, willing the little bubble to appear that signalled your imminent reply, but after a little longer, he tossed it away and closed his eyes.
A ping made one eye crack open.
Not unless you know someone willing to kidnap me from this hellscape. Lol! Don’t worry about me, I’ll survive 💪🫰
He laughed. What a silly notion. Unless… why was the idea growing on him the longer he thought about it?
Did it make him depraved to want to fulfil that role, safe in the knowledge that not a hair on your head would be hurt in the process because he would be the one pulling the strings?
I mean… never mind. Lemme know if you change your mind. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do today. See you soon, pretty…
~
Your fingers flew across your keyboard, and to the casual observer it would seem like you were deeply engrossed in your work. The truth was that you were gossiping with a work friend over the IM chat feature.
Stretching your arms overhead, you tilted your neck from side to side until you heard a satisfying pop. It was going to be a long afternoon of very little to do. Maybe you needed to pace yourself if the workload was going to continue being this light?
You decided that some soda might cheer you up, so you took the short trip to the break room and happily procured the last can of your favourite flavour. It wasn’t until you were resettled at your desk that you notice the pink post it note on your screen.
Come to the supply closet. I have something for you.
The old adage of ‘curiosity killed the cat’ seemed to be lost on you as you trotted the short distance to the store room in question, wondering if maybe your friend wanted to continue your conversation without the fear of it being tracked. It didn’t even raise alarm when you discovered the small room in complete darkness.
“Tara? Are you in here?”
You tiptoed to the shelves in the very back, turning when you heard movement, only for solid lead to plummet into your stomach as a hooded figure dressed from head to toe in black stalked forward.
The lower half of his face was covered by a mask and the hood pulled low enough that you couldn’t see his eyes. You wanted to scream, to run or do something but your fight or flight failed to kick in. Instead, you backstepped right up against the faraway wall, watching as the man cocked his head and tightened his gloved fist.
You were inching around the perimeter of the room, closing in on the door and he was letting you. It was as if he were toying with you, waiting for you to make a move before he reacted. There was something unsettlingly familiar about his stature and the way he moved… but you didn’t have time to question it, it was now or never.
Lunging for the door, you made your move but he was faster and stronger. One arm wound around your middle whilst the other hand came up to cover your mouth, the scream in your throat trapped. His body was radiating pure heat whilst you thrashed to escape.
“Calm yourself…”
Only half aware of the words, you more heard the voice and confusion blanketed your thoughts. Your struggling lessened and you thought you heard him chuckle in response.
“You wanted to be kidnapped… right?” Xavier teased, carefully removing his palm to listen to your panting breaths.
“Xav—”
“Ah ah. Hush now. You’re not going to struggle. You’re going to walk with me to your desk, grab up your things and come with me without making a scene.”
Why were you so flushed? Why were your legs trembling from something other than fear? Did your heart have to pound quite so loudly? It might have been a joke earlier but somehow being kidnapped by Xavier had become one of the hottest things to ever happen in your life.
You nodded your agreement, accompanied by a soft whimper and he pulled you back against his body for a moment before releasing you. It was long enough that you could feel the growing bulge in his black sweats. The thought of keeping him in here flitted through your mind, but he was nudging you forward before you could let the lewd thoughts slip past your lips.
“Once we’re out of here and no one is watching…” you purred, letting your hand graze down the length of his stomach and stopping deliberately at the waistband of his trousers. “I’m going to make a break for it, I hope you’re ready to chase me.”
Xavier chuckled, dark and predatory.
“I won’t stop until you’re struggling beneath me, my starlight.”
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For the first time in what felt like years, Zayne had a scheduled day off on a day you were due to work. You assured him that it would fly in if he simply allowed himself to relax, but here he was… staring at the wall.
It was barely 10am and every chore Zayne could think of had been taken care of. He even had time to start some dough for a fresh loaf of bread, the batch slowly proofing beneath a dish towel in the kitchen.
He had half a mind to go into the hospital and put his time to better use. At least he would be able to achieve something instead of sitting here, wishing you were beside him. Empty hours wouldn’t feel so bad if you shared them. He never felt bored when you were here.
Zayne’s phone thrilled from the coffee table and one glance told him the message was from you. Expecting a cute little reminder message that he was to rest and relax, he was not anticipating what he read.
It wasn’t like you to complain unnecessarily, especially because you genuinely enjoyed your job, so he knew that it had to be rough for you to send that message.
Can I help?
When you didn’t reply, he went to check on his dough to distract himself from thoughts of you, miserable and feeling demotivated.
I don’t think so, but thanks for the offer. Might skip movie night if you don’t mind… think I’ll go to bed when I get home.
Well now, that was simply unacceptable. Zayne knew from experience that denying your emotions never solved the issue, and clearly he needed to remind you of that.
~
There was a knock on your office door. It jolted you upright from where you were slumped over your desk feeling defeated. A courier peeked inside with a sheepish smile and confirmed your name. Once he was satisfied, he produced a beautiful bouquet of flowers in a frosted glass vase.
“These are for me? Are you sure?”
“It’s your name on the card and on the order slip… so yep! Enjoy your flowers, miss.” The man gave a short salute and left you to admire the beautiful blooms.
Your fingers stroked the velvet petals of midnight pansies and silvery lilies. The smell was gentle and sweet, much like the smile adorning your face for the first time today.
You didn’t need the little card tucked into the display to know who they were from and immediately you pulled out your phone and pressed the call button.
“Do you send flowers to all your patients, Dr Zayne?”
Zayne hummed, thoughtful for a second. “Only the ones that have captured my heart.”
Your grin only widened, he was so sweet.
“I don’t know if you realise how much this has brightened my day, you darling man,” you admitted with a soft sob.
The sound of traffic on the other end of the line caught your attention, and you wondered where he might be if not at home. As if sensing your question, Zayne provided the answer unprompted.
“Then I guess taking you out to lunch might be considered overkill?”
“Wait, what?”
“Look outside,” he cooed.
You nearly stumbled out of your chair in your rush to approach the window that looked down on the busy streets below. From your vantage point you could make out a man with a head of midnight hair leaning casually against the trees in the courtyard. Your breath hitched when Zayne glanced up to where he knew your office was located and tipped his coffee cup in your direction.
“Oh, Zayne…”
“Yes?”
“I’m not going to want to come back after we eat,” you grumbled honestly.
“That’s fine. I planned on you having a minor allergic reaction that will require personal treatment. I already have the story planned out when I call your boss in an hour.”
This man thought of everything and right now, you were eternally grateful of that. Smothering your laughter behind your palm, you started to stuff your belongings haphazardly into your bag.
“Y’know what? I love you and every immaculately planned out thought inside that big wrinkly brain of yours.”
“… I love you too?”
“That was a compliment,” you assured him hastily, practically running for the lift.
“Oh. Well, thank you, darling. I’ll see you in a minute so I can return the sentiment correctly.”
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squid--inc · 2 years
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pucksandpower · 5 months
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Say My Name
Oscar Piastri x streamer!Reader
Summary: when fans mistake Oscar for your ex while he is hanging around in the background of your stream, you get introduced to a side of Oscar that you’ve never seen before
Warnings: 18+ content
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Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you narrate the intense battle unfolding on your stream. “Oh damn, that was close! I almost got sniped there.” You lean in, eyes narrowed at the screen. “Gotta be more careful or this round is over.”
The chat explodes with messages cheering you on. Being one of the top female gaming streamers has its perks, like an incredibly loyal fanbase that hangs on your every word.
You glance at the viewer count — over 50,000 watching live. Not too shabby.
“Okay team, let’s rush B, I’ll try to draw their fire.” You move your character into position, heart pounding with anticipation.
Suddenly, a quiet thump comes from the living room behind you. You start, whipping your head around, but see nothing amiss through the open doorway. Must have been your imagination.
You refocus on the game, calling out tactics to your teammates. Another muffled sound, like something soft hitting the floor, catches your attention. You turn off your video and hit mute on your mic. “Hello? Is someone there?”
No response. You’re just about to unmute when a very familiar face pops into view from the hallway. It’s your boyfriend of nearly two years.
Your face splits into a huge grin as you take in his messy hair and the rumpled clothes he slept in on the flight. “Oscar! You’re back early!”
He crosses to you, bending to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair.
You tilt your face up for a proper kiss, “I missed you too, ba-”
But you’re cut off as his lips crash into yours, insistent and heated. Heat blooms in your cheeks at the sudden, passionate embrace. Far too soon, Oscar pulls away, leaving you flustered and breathless.
“Sorry,” he says with a smirk that suggests he’s anything but. “Couldn’t help myself.”
You shake your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I’m working, you know.”
“So I noticed.” Oscar settles onto the couch just off-camera, casual as can be. “Don’t mind me, keep going.”
“You sure?” You eye him skeptically. The stream has been on a short period without your commentary and the chat is getting restless. “I can take a break if you want.”
He waves a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m just going to hang out here for a bit. Go ahead.”
Hesitating only a moment, you turn your video back on and unmute your mic. “Alright folks, sorry about that little pause. I, uh, got a surprise visitor.” You gesture vaguely toward where Oscar lounges behind you.
The chat instantly lights up with questions about who was there. Smiling to yourself, you ignore them for now, re-focusing on the game.
Over the next hour, it becomes increasingly difficult to concentrate. Oscar keeps distracting you, making silly faces and gestures whenever you glance his way. More than once you have to stifle a laugh after catching sight of him. Your fans seem to find your giggly mood delightful, though they remain oblivious to the cause.
Finally, in a rare break between matches, you swivel in your chair to face him. “You’re being so disruptive,” you stage-whisper. “Don’t you have better things to do than pester me?”
Oscar feigns innocence. “Who, me? I’m just sitting here, love.”
Rolling your eyes, you stretch your arms overhead with a groan, back popping from sitting so long. Oscar’s gaze shamelessly rakes over you, darkening.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, fighting a smile.
“Like what?” His eyes glint with mischief.
You open your mouth to respond, but a new donation notification pops up on your stream, cutting you off. “Oh, wow, thanks for the ten thousand bits, Legend27!” The expensive donation isn’t that unusual, but the comment attached gives you pause.
I’m so happy you and Eric made up! You two are couple goals for real.
Frowning, you scan the new barrage of messages flooding the chat … and find dozens echoing similar sentiments.
Your stomach drops as you finally realize what your viewers think is happening. They assume Oscar is actually your ex, the one you briefly dated and had an awful breakup with over two years ago. Apparently his surprise appearance has led them to believe you two have reconciled.
Heat floods your face at the misunderstanding. Objecting seems pointless though — you’ve learned it’s better not to discuss your private romantic life on stream. “Ah, thanks guys, you’re too kind,” you finally say, aiming for a neutral tone.
Beside you, Oscar stiffens, catching the implications of the messages. His jaw clenches and you watch as his face cycles through a series of micro-expressions — first surprise, then confusion, quickly followed by displeasure and … jealousy?
Uh oh. This could get messy fast if he gets worked up. You try to subtly shake your head at him in a silent plea to ignore the chat.
No such luck. His brow furrows deeper and you can practically see the tension ratcheting up in his shoulders.
Suddenly, Oscar surges to his feet with a muttered curse. Before you can react, he’s stalking around the side of your chair until he’s directly in view of the camera’s frame.
“Oscar, what are you-”
But he cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you hard. Your startled squeak is smothered by his fierce, possessive mouth moving over yours.
Powerless to resist the onslaught of sensations, you melt bonelessly against him as the kiss stretches on and on. Only the escalating number of notifications showing the shock and exclamations from your viewers finally breaks through the heady fog.
With extreme reluctance, Oscar ends the kiss, both of you panting. He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your flushed skin as he growls, “She’s mine.”
Then, before you can respond, he reaches past you and slams his palm into the power button of your streaming setup, shutting everything down.
The simultaneous howl of outrage from tens of thousands of confused fans cuts off abruptly as the screen goes black. Only the two of you are left in the ringing silence that follows.
“Oscar!” You finally manage. “What was that?”
He pulls away enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his brown eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath.
“I got … jealous,” he admits, seeming almost surprised at his own vehement reaction. “When they thought I was your ex. I didn’t like that at all.”
Your expression softens at his uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. Reaching out, you trace his sharp cheekbone with gentle fingers. “You have no reason to be jealous, silly man. It’s only ever been you.”
Some of the blazing heat in his stare banks into smoldering embers at your reassurance. “Yeah?” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Good.”
He leans in again until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. “Because you’re mine, okay? And I’m yours.”
“Yeah,” you breathe out, dizzy with wanting him. “I’m all yours, Oscar.”
The possessive words seem to flip a switch in him. With a low, rumbling sound of approval, his mouth slants over yours once more in a searing, demanding kiss that makes your toes curl.
The abrupt ending to your stream is already causing a social media firestorm of epic proportions. But surrounded by the circle of Oscar’s arms, his familiar warmth and love, you can’t find it in yourself to care even a little bit.
After all, you think dizzily as he deepens the kiss, your fans should have recognized that you two were a couple from the very start — because Oscar Piastri is most definitely not your ex.
He’s your everything.
***
Oscar’s hands are everywhere, seemingly unable to get enough of you as his kisses grow more and more fervent. Your back hits the wall with a gentle thump as he crowds closer, caging you in with the solid warmth of his body.
“Missed you so much, love,” he rasps against the heated skin of your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
A whimper escapes your lips at the scorching path his mouth blazes over your pulse point. “I m-missed you too, Oscar.”
His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he rewards you by sucking a mark into the sensitive spot just below your ear. Pleasure zings along your nerves at the hint of delicious possession in the act.
When he finally pulls back to gaze at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips are reddened from enthusiastic use. The sight sends a molten flare of desire arrowing straight to your core.
“Say it again,” he commands roughly, voice gone low and gritty in that way that never fails to make you melt.
You blink up at him, momentarily lost in a lust-fueled haze. “W-What?”
“My name.” His large hands skim over the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt. “Say my name again.”
“Oscar,” you breathe without hesitation, watching raptly as his pupils blow wider at the sound. “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...”
Each breathy iteration seems to stoke his hunger hotter. His fingers flex against your sides like he’s holding himself back from something.
On a daring whim, you slant your mouth near his ear, letting your lips brush the shell with every word. “Oscar Piastri,” you practically purr. “My Oscar.”
A broken groan is your only warning before he’s on you again, mouths crashing together in a heated crash of lips, teeth, and tangling tongues. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck, angling your face for deeper exploration.
When you finally manage to tear your lips away, you’re both panting harshly, chests heaving. “What’s … gotten into you?” You pant.
Rather than answer, Oscar just shakes his head and dives back in for more fervent kisses, like a man dying of thirst and you’re the most delicious drink he’s ever tasted.
It’s not until he suddenly grips your waist and spins the two of you around, depositing you on the desk with a surprising lack of finesse, that you realize just how wildly affected he is.
Oscar licks into the seam of your lips like he’s staking a claim and something within you shatters at the stark, naked wanting in his eyes when he pulls back the tiniest bit.
He just stares at you, chest heaving, gaze roving hungrily over your features like he’s memorizing you all over again. His pupils are blown wide, just thin rings of molten brown remaining around the black.
When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly in a way that vibrates through you. “Say. My. Name.”
“Oscar,” you respond immediately, not even having to think. His hungry gaze burns over you and you feel stripped bare and vulnerable under the weight of it.
But rather than make you want to cover up, it has the opposite effect — you’re reeling him in, hands fisted in his shirt to pull him closer. You never want this delirious, frantic sense of possession and desire to end.
“Again,” he grinds out, sounding utterly wrecked already.
“Oscar.” You bare your neck for him as you say it, like presenting an offering. He groans low and deep, instantly ducking to mouth along the column of your throat.
His hands are everywhere, pushing up the hem of your top, kneading along your sides and ribs as he nips and sucks bruising paths across your collarbones and chest.
“Don’t stop saying it,” he orders, more plea than demand.
So you let his name become a breathless prayer falling from your lips, over and over between gasps and keening whimpers. You lose yourself in a heady feedback loop — the more you speak his name with naked wanting, the wilder it seems to drive him until his touch grows scattered and devouring.
At some point his hands finally succeed in tugging your shirt up and off. Your name doesn’t even register when his scorching mouth closes over one peaked bud, your back bowing at the shuddering bolt of sensation that lances through you.
All you can seem to process is the feel of his calloused palms mapping every inch of newly-exposed skin and the desperate mumble of “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...” spilling shameless and endless from your lips.
Eventually, the heated exploration of his mouth and hands becomes too much to simply lay there and take. With a low, guttural sound you haul Oscar upright and swing your legs around his hips, relishing his full body shudder.
“Not enough,” you accuse roughly, rolling your core against his in clear invitation. “Need you closer, Oscar.”
His heated groan at your wanton demand is music to your ears. Strong hands grasp your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist as he surges against you.
“So impatient, my darling girl,” he teases. This close, you can make out the faintest brush of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that you’ve mapped and memorized with lips and fingertips a hundred times before.
You can’t help but reach out to graze them with your thumb, gazing up at him with naked adoration. “My Oscar,” you murmur reverently.
His eyes slip shut for a beat, jaw ticking as if your words have an unexpectedly profound effect on him. When he opens them again, his gaze is fierce and intent.
“Yours,” he vows simply, leaning in to seal the promise against the plush of your lips.
The kiss is somehow softer and headier than before. You get lost in the lush glide of his mouth, every sliding brush of lip and tongue shorting out whatever rational thoughts remain until all you know is his name — the shape and taste and weight of it against your own.
It’s the only thing that seems real, vital, until at some point Oscar’s mouth leaves yours to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down your chest and stomach and lower still.
Your back bows as you squirm incoherently against the press of his lips and tongue. His restraint seems to have finally snapped, movements growing hungry and rough as he works you steadily higher.
“Oscar,” you sob out his name like you’re breaking apart, pleading for something you can’t quite name. He answers with a rumbling sound of satisfaction that vibrates hotly against your sensitized flesh.
More, is all you can think as he redoubles his efforts.
At some point, you must have arched helplessly off the desk because suddenly his hands are at the small of your back, fingertips digging in hard as he holds you arched for his questing mouth.
The intimate angle of his positioning has your jaw dropping open on a silent scream of overwhelmed pleasure. All that escapes is a strangled gasp of, “Oscar!”
He growls something incoherent against you that might be praise, might be reassurance, might just be your name groaned out roughly in shared bliss. But you honestly can’t tell anymore — you’ve transcended far past coherent speech and rational thought.
Everything has devolved into just sensation and feeling and the endless loop of his name spilling over and over from your lips like a benediction.
Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...
Just when you think you might actually shatter into pieces from the intensity he’s wringing out of you, strong hands are abruptly hauling you up and off the desk in one smooth motion.
You cling to him with heavy limbs, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he staggers the few steps to your shared bedroom. At some point his shirt has vanished, allowing your hands free rein to roam over flexing muscle and heated skin.
When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pauses to claim your mouth in another searing, shattering kiss. He whispers something fervent and intense against your lips, your name perhaps intertwined with endearments or promises.
You can’t be sure. All you know is the shape of his name against your tongue, the only word your mind seems capable of holding onto as he lowers you reverently to the sheets and stretches out over you.
When he finally sinks into you with a harsh groan of relief, your back bows and you let out a broken, high keen — his name once more torn from your lips in breathless ecstasy.
“There you are, that’s it love,” he growls hoarsely as he begins to move, words interspersed between drugging, thorough thrusts. “Let me hear you, let me hear my name on those pretty lips.”
So you do, shamelessly loud and incoherent now as he gradually unravels you from the inside out. His name and gasped pleas and frantic praise all blur together in a continuous stream of blissful delirium.
At some point, his own control seems to splinter apart, hips snapping hard and deep as his pace turns utterly unrestrained. Still, you chase that shattering edge, crying out for Oscar as your whole world narrows to the merciless intensity of his driving thrusts and demanding hands kneading your flesh with staking ownership.
When you finally go soaring over that dizzying peak with his name torn hoarse from your throat, he follows you over almost violently with a ragged shout. Oscar’s arms shake dangerously as he holds his weight off of you, pupils swallowing up the copper of his eyes entirely in onyx pools of spent lust.
As you slowly float back down from that searing high, limbs heavy and sated, you reach up to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. He turns his face into your palm with a shuddering exhale as if grounding himself.
For several long breaths, all that can be heard is your shaky inhales mingling together while your racing heartbeats gradually return to normal.
Finally, Oscar presses a warm, lingering kiss to the center of your palm before shifting to stretch out beside you, his weight dipping the mattress.
You immediately curl into the reassuring heat of him, despite the sweat still cooling along your skin. One of his arms bands around your waist, holding you flush against his side while his other hand comes up to card soothingly through your hair.
Nestling your face into the curve where his shoulder meets his neck, you press a gentle kiss to the hollow of his throat and whisper, “Hi.”
“Hi yourself,” he murmurs back, low and slightly scratchy in the aftermath. You can hear the smile in his voice as his fingers keep carding idly through your hair.
Silence falls again, comfortable and peaceful in the aftermath of your frantic passion, both of you simply basking in the warmth of shared nearness.
Eventually though, the question you’ve been avoiding asking slips out in a hazy murmur. “What brought all … that … on, Oscar?”
He’s quiet for so long, you begin to wonder if he fell asleep. Just when you’re about to shift to look at him though, he speaks up.
“When your fans assumed I was your ex … the way they were celebrating that the two of you got back together ...” His fingers stroke almost absentmindedly through your hair as he pauses. “I dunno, something in me just .. .snapped a little. Seeing them say over and over how perfect he was for you ...”
He trails off with a low chuckle, and you can’t resist craning your neck to glance up at him curiously. When your eyes meet his, his expression is rueful.
“I couldn’t stand the thought of any other name on your lips, love. Even your own.” His fingertips trace the line of your jaw with unbearable tenderness. “All I wanted was for you to say my name like that — like it’s the only word that matters in the entire world.”
Just like that, a fresh ember of want rekindles low in your belly at the slightly awed honesty in his voice. You exhale a shaky breath, searching his stormy gaze for … what? Evidence of how crazily affected you are by such a simple revelation?
Whatever he finds reflected in your stare seems to give him pause as well because his eyes almost immediately darken with renewed hunger.
“Say it again then,” he husks, rolling until he’s leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head. There’s no demand in the words, just low, thrumming need thrilling between you both.
So you reach up to cup his face in your palms, rubbing your thumbs over the sandpapery stubble along his strong jawline as you gaze adoringly up at him.
“Oscar ...” you breathe out his name like a sacred invocation. “My Oscar.”
His eyes slip shut and he makes a low, ragged sound of pure satisfaction on an exhale that ghosts across your lips.
“Yeah,” he rasps, bending lower until his forehead rests against yours. “That’s it, love … that’s all I ever want to hear.”
You pull him back down to you then, unable and unwilling to resist sealing the promise of those words against his lips with your own.
And as everything inevitably dissolves into heat and need and formless ecstasy once more, you lose yourself to the endless chant of his name on your lips — your entire world whittled down to just that one exalted word, over and over and over.
Because really, what other name could ever matter when Oscar Piastri is the only name you’ll ever need?
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2K notes · View notes
taeyongdoyoung · 6 months
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summary: your best friend brags complains that he can't get laid due to his huge dick posing a threat to random girls at parties, so you offer to fix his little big problem pairing: soobin x reader genre: smut, best friends to lovers warnings: explicit language, big dick soobin (canon event), size kink, foreplay, eating out, blowjob, hugging, fingering, size training, creampie, consensual intercourse, kissing, aftercare, allusions to death in a sexual context, lowkey possessive soobin at the end author's note: the killa is on my mind 24/7 and im down bad for soobin 25/8 🥵 so i had to get it out of my system somehow 🤷 word count: 2k
“You’re kidding, right?” you ask your best friend when he makes a rather shocking confession as the two of you are sitting in his bedroom after one of your usual anime marathons.
“I wish I was. But I would never lie to you,” Soobin responds truthfully. His big moist eyes look a 100% genuine but it still sounds so...bizarre.
“Let me get this straight…Every time you try to hook up with a girl at one of those parties Yeonjun keep dragging you to, you go to a room, eat them out like the generous, selfless guy you are, and then after you take off your pants, they get scared by your gigantic cock and refuse to have sex, running away in horror?”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to explain for the past 10 minutes, yeah,” Soobin confirms with a very adorable pout on his stupid face.
You shake your head in utter disbelief.
“I’m sorry but this is just ridiculous. Any girl would be happy to hook up with a guy that has a huge dick.”
“Well, I guess not any girl ‘cause this shit has happened three times already and I’m at my limit. Why can’t I just get laid?” Soobin bemoans his tragic destiny.
“No, I don’t get it. The least they could do is give you a quickie or something to return the favour. It’s so rude to just sprint away. I can’t believe your cock is that terrifying.”
“Ugh, please stop saying that. It’s so embarrassing,” Soobin covers his face behind his big hands. Hold on a minute…
“If what you’re saying is true, then I think it’s pretty hot. Those girls are surely missing out.”
“Or maybe they’re just looking after themselves. Like…I’m not mad at them for being spooked out, I just wish I could finally get some, you know?” Soobin sighs.
“Death by dick does seem appealing,” you shrug.
“Y/N!” he exclaims.
“Listen, what if I make you an offer? You prove to me that you weren’t exaggerating about your size and I promise I won’t run away and will take care of your…frustrations.”
“Are you seriously suggesting this?” Soobin freaks out. “This could ruin our friendship.”
“I won’t be weird about it, I swear. What do you say?”
“Fuck it. I’m so horny that this actually sounds like a good idea,” Soobin admits. “Can I eat you out first?”
“Erm, if you insist,” you reply, suddenly feeling nervous.
“I just wanna take care of you, make sure you’re all nice and wet for me,” Soobin explains patiently.
“You really don’t have to,” you reassure him.
“I know but it’d be awkward for me to just whip it out. Please?”
“Oh…okay,” you really can’t imagine saying no when he’s asking you so sweetly. God, what did you get yourself into?
Soobin takes off your leggings and panties in one swift movement and pushes you down gently on the bed so you are in a lying position. He spreads your thighs apart and looks at your pussy, already glistening with wetness caused by the conversation you’ve been having. Soobin smirks but doesn’t say anything about it. You’re grateful for that as he dives in, licking and kissing all over you. Fucking hell, if his tongue is capable of making you feel this way, you are slightly unnerved to find out what his cock can achieve. But unlike those girls at the parties, you are determined to never run away from your best friend.
Soon enough, you reach your high, overwhelmed by Soobin’s insane tongue movements and his big hands gripping your thighs. You need a few moments to gather your thoughts and when you are finally able to speak, those are the first words that leave your mouth:
“I think they fleed because you eat pussy like a starved animal. Seriously, what the hell was that?”
Soobin chuckles nervously and runs his fingers through his black hair, pushing it back and exposing his forehead for a bit.
“Trust me, it’s not that.”
“Prove it,” you challenge him even though you are fairly certain he’s telling the truth. Your best friend has never lied to you, so why start now?
Soobin takes off his pants, his hands are shaking and you immediately feel bad. You put your hand on his in an attempt to calm him down.
“Hey, you don’t have to if you feel uncomfortable.”
“I do want this, but after so many failed attempts, I’m so anxious…”
“I’m not going anywhere, Soobin,” you insist and squeeze his hand reassuringly.
His skin complexion looks slightly less pale and your words seem to give him the confidence he so desperately needs. Moment of truth. Soobin takes off his boxers and…Oh damn, he was not exaggerating. He’s not just big, he’s so huge a part of you wonders how is it humanly possible to carry such a weapon around and maintain the gentle, humble composure with which Soobin carries himself.
“You’re not running yet,” he jokes.
“Soob?”
“Y-yeah?” his voice cracks, he is obviously terrified of what you’re going to say.
“I’m not gonna lie to you, I finally get why these girls ran away.”
“Oh,” he sounds a little dejected, as if already expecting you to go back on your offer.
“But! That’s not gonna stop me. Just tell me what you want first and I’ll try my best to make you happy.”
“Huh?” Soobin is too flustered to process your words.
“My hands, my mouth, or my pussy, what do you want first?”
“You mean…you’re willing to give me all of them?” he blinks in shock.
This poor, precious boy. Did he really face disappointment so many times that he is now looking a gift horse in the mouth with such uncertainty?
“Just pick, Soobie, I promise I’ll give you anything you need.”
“Um…can you suck me off? Please?”
Gosh, he’s so adorable you want to eat him.
You nod a little too enthusiastically and go down on your knees, taking as much of his cock as you can. It’s a tight fit but what you can’t put inside your mouth you make up for by wrapping your hands around him. You suck and lick and touch him, eager to give him as much pleasure as he did you. Your beloved best friend has obviously been frustrated for a while now because it doesn’t take him long to cum inside your mouth. There is so much you can’t manage to swallow it all despite your valiant efforts and you see some of it falling down your cheeks. You wipe it off with a finger, sticking it into your mouth, grinning widely at Soobin.
“Fuck, you’re incredible. What…how…are you okay?”
He presses his big palm against your cheek and it takes a lot of self-control for you to not melt right there and then.
“I’m great. Did…did it feel good for you?” you ask sheepishly.
You’re not particularly confident about your skills but you genuinely did your best for him.
“Are you crazy? It felt insanely good,” Soobin takes your hand, lifting you up and wrapping his arms around you in a hug.
“I’m glad,” you respond, feeling safer and warmer than ever before in your life.
“Do…you still want to…you know?” Soobin asks.
“If you’re asking whether you can put your cock inside my pussy, then yeah, go for it. As long as it’s something you want, of course.”
You keep reminding him to only do things he’s completely okay with, because you would hate to put your best friend in a situation he doesn’t enjoy just because of your greed.
“I want you so bad, you have no idea. But I think I’ll need to stretch you out a bit, yeah?”
“O-okay,” you quickly agree and in no time, Soobin’s long fingers are inside of your pussy, going deeper than your own have ever been and making you feel things you never even dreamed about.
“How does it feel?” Soobin asks in concern.
“Heavenly,” you admit and just as you’re about to reach your second orgasm, Soobin’s fingers leave you.
“N-no, why’d you do that?” you whine frustratedly.
“Wanna feel you come around my cock.”
As it turns out, you'd like this just as much so you quickly forgive him for ruining your orgasm.
“I think I have a condom in my-“ Soobin starts but you cut him off.
“I’m taking a pill. And I believe we’re both clean, so…”
“You gon’ let me fuck you raw?” Soobin inquires, not wanting to make assumptions.
“Yeah, I trust you,” you reply with conviction.
“You’re a dream,” Soobin chuckles and nudges the head of his cock against your moist entrance. You brace yourself for some level of discomfort and are surprised that it doesn’t come right away. Soobin takes his sweet time getting inside you, making sure you’re okay.
“Fuck, Soob, you're so big,” you moan, already feeling overstimulated.
“This is just the tip, baby,” he explains shyly, which makes you lose your mind.
Soobin goes deeper very slowly, making you feel every inch, stretching you out bit by bit.
“How much more?” you ask somewhat impatiently.
“Just a little bit. Can’t help it that your pussy is so tiny,” he teases you.
“Not my fault your dick is so gigantic,” you bite right back.
“I promise, I'll try my best not to split you in half,” Soobin jokes, which does little to ease your worries, but at the same time only makes you wetter.
“Keep talking to me,” you plead for him.
“Does it hurt?” he wants to know, as he keeps entering you further.
“It’s a good kind of hurt,” you explain, wincing slightly.
Once you’ve gotten used to it, you signal to Soobin that he can start moving and he does just that, fucking into you with an impressive speed. You try to meet him halfway, lifting your hips up for him, melting into one.
“You’re taking it so well, my darling best friend,” Soobin praises you relentlessly.
“Anything for you, Soobie,” you cry out in sweet bliss.
“I’m close,” Soobin confesses soon enough.
“Fill me up,” you beg him, almost in a daze, deeply affected by his overpowering presence.
He doesn’t need to be asked twice and spills his seed inside of you. It feels so good that you cum with him, walls clenching around his enormous dick. Soobin leans down to kiss you, further blurring the lines between friendship and…whatever this is.
Then, he takes his cock out and you realize something far more terrifying than his intimidating size - you are falling in love with your best friend.
Soobin quickly brings a towel and a bottle of water, taking care of you like no one else before. You want to cry, touched by his sweetness and falling even further.
“How do you feel?” Soobin brushes a piece of hair behind your ear.
“I feel…like I'm on another planet,” you confess shakily.
Soobin chuckles, visibly relieved to hear that.
“You’re so cute,” he murmurs, enveloping you in a hug. His large frame towers over you and if it was anyone else, you’d probably feel slightly threatened. But this is Soobin, and even though he just fucked your brains out, you feel completely safe and protected. Safe enough to be honest about how you feel.
“I know I promised not to be weird about it but…I don’t think I can go back to being friends.”
Soobin pales for a moment, scared of losing you.
“Why not?” he blinks, barely restraining his tears.
“I wanna belong to you,” you try to ease his worries by openly saying what your heart and soul desire.
“Oh…But baby, you already do,” Soobin suddenly beams with excitement. “And I belong to you, too.”
“I think you killed me a little,” you laugh. “Killed my pussy with your big cock and ruined me for other men.”
Soobin raises an eyebrow.
“Bold of you to assume that I’d let other men near your pussy. You’re all mine now.”
The End
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leviathanspain · 10 months
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Hey could you write a Finnick odair / reader where snow forces them to pretend to date like he did with katniss and peeta? The whole convince him and get married as a distraction thing? Thanks :)
the pretender
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finnick odair x reader
synopsis: being reaped from the victor’s pool changed your life in more ways than you imagined
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you were his favorite girl.
girl. you were a girl when you had been reaped, a girl when your feet stepped off the platform, more shocked that you didn’t immediately blow up into bits. a girl when you had committed your first kill. you remembered the sound of your knife slicing into human flesh for the first time. the ringing in your ears had become permanent after you had been too close to the explosion that had killed half of the tributes. an explosion that you had accidentally caused.
your rebellious spirit was fun at first, for the capital to laugh and delight in, until you stopped using the scripts that they had written for you, and tried to destroy the idea of the girl in their minds.
snow subdued you, tried to barter your family’s life with cooperation. unbeknownst to him, you hadn’t seen your family in years since they had abandoned you, for fighting against your father’s abuse.
“kill them. do whatever you want to them. just leave me alone.” your own words haunted you since the day snow had presented evidence of their murders. you didn’t dare flinch in his presence, holding a strong facade that you didn’t care, that they were beneath you.
as he left, irritated at your refusal to comply, letting ideas stir in his head with what to do with you, you broke down. tears shed as you realized that they were gone because of you, because you couldn’t let your anger go.
but snow liked you, he must’ve had a reason to keep you around for so long, and until just a few days ago, you hadn’t known why.
you breathed deeply as you heard your name called. it was deja vu, and suddenly you were back to the thirteen year old girl, who was so emaciated and starved that when her name was called, she believed she was hallucinating.
you looked crudely into the screen, not offering any smiles or sign of pride that you had been reaped, all over again.
“y/n l/n.” hearing your full name made you turn around immediately. you were slightly blinded by his blonde hair and pearly white smile.
“finnick odair.” you realized who the man was, quicker than you’d admit. the last time you had seen him was at a ridiculous capital party that snow had forced you to attend. finnick had been leaned against a wall, with two capital sluts hanging onto his shoulders, whispering in his ears simultaneously.
he smiled, not surprised that you didn’t say anything else besides his name. you had that tendency about you, to shoot down any attempt at conversation. even going as far to avoid it all together. “i’m glad you haven’t tried to run away, not after i had caught you eyes and you dashed off at that party. how long ago was that? three,” his speech hung onto the words, “four?”
“five months. it’s been five months, finnick.” you remembered his gaze, and remembered how your feet made you run at the sight. you had heard stories about finnick, and you weren’t exactly planning on ever talking to him.
“that’s right.” he smiled, “i hope you’ve been well since then. it was nice seeing you in something other than a bloody shirt.” his gaze suddenly seemed very far away, as if he was remembering exactly what you wore that night.
you shrugged, deciding to change topics, “everyone else is polishing their weapons,” you heard a guttural war cry, and saw another tribute lunge at a partner, “and methods.” finnick turned to the source of the cry and laughed slightly, “oh yeah? what’s your choice of weapon, again?”
“knives. anything long and sharp.” you always had an affinity for knives. it was second nature to you, an art of your district. your mind drifted away slightly to the array of knives that you had collected during your games. every tribute that you had slaughtered had a knife, and you collected them as a token. by the end, you had 23 knives, all representing a kill.
it had been upsetting when you went on your victory tour, to see the look on their family’s faces, but you had blurred out their emotions, and at the height of your submission to snow, had given out the same apathetic speech to every district.
finnick watched as your mind drifted back to reality. wherever you had gone for the better half of a minute, was a place finnick spent every waking moment, running away from.
he grabbed your shoulder, squeezing it slightly as he looked into your eyes, whispering your name, “hey, hey.” you focused on his eyes, gaze shifting to his mouth as they shaped the syllables of your name. you swallowed thickly, “im sorry-i…” you pulled away, his hand falling free of your shoulder. finnick watched as you exited the training room, your hands balled up into fists as you disappeared through the doorway.
“absolutely not.” you had spent your childhood under the thumb of one man, and you had barely made it out from under snow’s. this was only another way to get you under it once more.
finnick had his head bowed, having listened to snow’s pitch to make the two of you a couple. he needed something to distract the capital citizens from peeta and katniss, who everyone knew, was just a thorn in snow’s side.
“my dear, i really don’t think you have a choice in the matter.” snow’s eyes narrowed at you and you sighed, “what else is there left for you to do? im already being marched to my death, again, just speed the process up. poison me like you do the rest.” you took a good jab at one of the many secrets you had obtained, living in his cage.
snow laughed, “i would’ve done that a long time ago, y/n.”
just as you were beginning to argue again, finnick looked up, eyes catching yours. he held your gaze for a minute, blinking his wet eyes at you. there was something that was telling you that this wasn’t just about you.
finnick.
oh how could you forget finnick.
there was something clearly at stake for him too, otherwise why had he remained silent this entire time?
compliance was something he had to get used to, also under snow’s control.
“okay, fine.” you felt yourself swallow bile, “i’ll do it.” you looked at finnick, your future husband, and the reason why you were even agreeing.
“why did you do it?” his voice cracked, a raw noise as he looked over at you. you had been silent the whole time since leaving the meeting with snow. you shuddered with the strong winds, having been sat out on the stoop of the building, housing all the reaped former victors.
you looked at finnick, having caught his gaze, holding it for a moment, “my entire life i’ve been selfish, and i guess i realized that it isn’t always about putting myself first.” you knew the stories, heard the rumors. snow had barely played with the idea, making you like finnick, but you had always refused. there was nothing left for him to leverage, and so it never went anywhere.
but this, pairing the two of you was nothing short of cruel. finnick who has everything to lose, with you, who he probably didn’t expect to agree.
finnick hitched a breath, understanding what you weren’t saying. “thank you.” he breathed, “and im sorry.”
you stood up suddenly, nodding as you turned towards the entrance, “just-“ you cut yourself off, waving a hand as you continued inside.
he made the announcement. finnick had decided that with the pull he has on the capital, that he would be the one to do it. especially since he was so beloved, the attention from it was to challenge katniss and peeta’s.
you had agreed to play the part, and now you had to act like it.
there was loud cheering and applause from the crowd, and you were pushed out onto the stage, more cheers erupting as finnick stood up to meet you halfway. you kissed his cheek, grabbing his hand tightly as you two fluttered across the stage.
caesar flickerman was already standing there with a bright, capitol smile. “this is your lovely bride. we hear the honeymoon is the arena?” he looked at finnick who tipped his head back for a laugh, but didn’t answer outright.
you gave a soft laugh, “we just loved each other so much, we couldn’t wait.”
caesar looked at you, as if remembering who you were exactly, “wow.” he seemed truly amazed, perhaps even shocked.
finnick noticed the heaviness in the interview and turned his head at caesar, trying to keep the attention on the union rather than the individuals.
he grabbed your hand suddenly, clutching it tightly. as he held it for the rest of the interview, you staring at the faces in the crowd, more love struck than you, you wondered if he was trying to comfort you or himself.
“finnick.” you looked around behind you, only seeing peeta in front of you. the first few days in the arena had been a blur. you had stuck by close with finnick, who made it his mission to stay close to katniss. there was something he wasn’t telling you, but you didn’t once doubt him.
“finnick?” you whipped your head around and couldn’t find him. you were always in front of him, so he could remain in his eye line at all times. except you had failed to make sure he was in yours.
your ears started ringing as the panic set in. you scanned the trees and couldn’t find any sign of him or katniss, realizing this as peeta shared your same panicked look. your throat felt tight as you screamed his name, “finnick!” peeta suddenly took off, feet blazing towards more greenery. you had no choice but to follow, knowing finnick would’ve had you stick with peeta.
as you barely caught up to peeta, you saw him hit the floor as you ran up. whatever he had bounced off of was holding katniss and finnick back.
you looked at finnick, unable to catch his eyes as he looked up frantically. there was something you were missing, there were just bir-
“jabberjays.” peeta groaned out, “they can’t hear us, but they hear our screams.” he swallowed thickly, resting near the force field. katniss was knelt down at the edge, eyes tightly shut. you stared at finnick, at a loss for words. the panic in his face looked so real, you wondered who he was hearing.
you tore your eyes away, watching him suffer was not something you had signed up for. you felt defeated, unable to do anything as you and peeta sat like sitting ducks, waiting this torture out.
you hadn’t talked to him since the jabberjays. peeta had comforted katniss, in any way she’d let him. but they were different, you and finnick were different.
yes, you were married, he was your husband. but the issue was, you hadn’t much time to even begin to share intimate details, let alone have a good conversation. this was what snow wanted, an empty marriage to stir up all the attention.
except you knew your performance was failing. the audience could see right through you.
“hey.” finnick had snuck up on you. you had stayed a few feet away from him and the others, unsure how to handle it all. but it seems like finnick was trying to make it work. but it should be the other way around.
“finnick.” you breathed a sigh of relief unintentionally, hoping he didn’t catch on, you watched as he sat down on the sand beside you. he grabbed your hand, and for a moment you thought it to be genuine, until he raised an eyebrow.
right.
“i’m so sorry.” your voice hitched, and finnick steadied his gaze, “seeing you like that-“ you faked a choked sob, “i just couldn’t do it. i couldn’t look at you and see-“ you cut yourself off, throwing your head in your hands.
snow had to be happy that you were selling yourself off to protect finnick. but beside that heart to heart you had with him in the beginning, you had nothing else to go off of.
“i heard you.” finnick’s voice cracked, “you were screaming, these terrible, horrible screams.” he shook his head, as if he were hearing them all over again, making you realize that he was telling the truth. “and it wouldn’t stop.” he breathed. his breathing got harder and you found yourself kissing him to make him stop. finnick panted into the kiss, as if you had grounded him. you pulled back, catching his eye as you looked away.
your hand that he had been holding gripped his harder. you looked out into the water, watching as it’s dangerous waters moved, unsure on how you would survive this.
with or without him.
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simporado · 6 months
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‼️ nsfw, mdni please
self-indulgent baku being down bad for reader ^q^
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Bakugo closes his eyes to bask in the feeling. The feeling of shame? Or the feeling of his hand stroking is cock harder than he did the last time again? He's not really sure.
The thought flies away when he cums, his mind blanks at nothing but your face. His seeds splattering onto his pants and on his naked stomach. He falls down on his back, sweaty and panting. A hand goes over his eyes as he calms his breathing down.
"Fuckin' ridiculous." He huffs to himself, shaking his head as if disappointed in himself or to clear his head. He pushes his bangs out of his sweaty forehead as he gets up from his bed to go shower.
Its already almost a year since you've invaded his thoughts. and It's been about— actually he doesnt know since when he's started jerking off to the thought of you.
The first time he had ever looked at you this way was when that stupid dunce face and fuckass perverted grape tricked you and the girls into wearing that shitty cheering uniform. He thinks he probably wouldnt give a shit about those uniforms, had you not bumped straight into his chest that day along the halls, feeling left behind as all the girls had already gone out wearing those outfits.
You had looked stressed then, he remembers. He surmises its because you were wearing something different, and had none of your classmates with you.
"H-Hey, watch where you're fucking going!" He stammers a little, but makes sure to sound normal.
"A-Ah, sorry." is all you had said to him before hurriedly running out to the field to where the rest of the girls were.
He didnt know it then, but that was when he started noticing you.
It had only been stealing glances at you since then, until you had been partnered with him during no-quirk sparring.
Aizawa had you paired together that day. He huffed before getting into his fighting stance, and you did the same. You were in a ponytail, and seeing your hair up was already doing things to him, but he had to focus.
He’d lunged in first, and at the first half of your spar, he seemed to have the upper hand. Then, you started to finally hit back and dodge his advances. He noticed immediately that you were studying how he fights. And he sports a somewhat crazed smile at the realization.
Infuriated and probably turned on, he fought harder, and so did you. But alas, he still ended up winning. He had you immobilized on your stomach on the ground. His hand pinning your arms a bit painfully on your back while he straddles the back of your thighs. Your is face squished against the mat floor of the gym. You grit your teeth in pain caused by Bakugo restraining you, but its also mostly in annoyance.
"You lost, shitty nerd—" he manages to say before hearing the whistle. His hold relaxes a bit, but you struggle and kick his rear, he stumbles forward a bit. He puts his hand in front of him beside your head to break his fall, but his crotch ends up grazing against your ass.
He freezes for a millisecond then shoots up instantly and left. He lets out an audible 'tch' before immediately walking away trying to look casual, despite his reddening ears.
He sighs as he closes the shower, then steps out to dry himself and get changed.
It was around after dinner time, and he's just about ready to go to bed. He heads down to the dorm kitchen to get himself water for his room. Surpisingly, no one else was down there in the common rooms.
Or so he thought, as he almost jumps when he sees an ass sticking out in front of him on the floor. It seemed like you were trying to reach for something from under the sofa.
"The fuck are you doing?" He asks, voice gruff. He kinda hopes he doesnt sound weird. You pull back to look at him, hair tussled.
" 'Was trying to get my phone." is all you say, your lips pouting a bit.
Bakugo's eye twitches. And his cock. Your eyes flicker down for a second.
"Fuckin' move over," He says before bending down to get your phone for you.
“Ah, but you don’t have t—“ but you r protests were futile already as Bakugo lifts the couch, making sure to show off his strength and biceps (thank god he wore a sleeveless shirt tonight) your way in feigned nonchalance, and grabs your phone with the other. This doesn’t go unnoticed by you, of course.
He was about to hand you your phone, but stops in his tracks when he looks down and sees what was on your phone screen.
It's a picture of him shirtless. A bit dirty and sweaty, probably during one of his hero work.
You move immediately to snatch your phone but Bakugo's reflexes are too quick. He raises an eyebrow at you. "You took this?" he asks, smirking.
"Izuku did." you shake your head, correcting him. You cross your arms and tilt your chin downwards to glare up at him. His eyebrows only shoot up higher at the information.
"This what made you drop your phone and got your ass out trying to get it back?" He asks, the smirk on his lips growing into a grin.
You glare at him, cheeks burning. You jerk your chin towards him. "You cant say shit about me when you've got a hard on. 'That because of my ass?" You ask, eyes glaring at him but he can see mischief and lust in them.
A groan rumbles deep in his chest before stepping close to you. "So what if it is?" he growls mostly out of struggling to keep his cool. He sees you slowly smile up at him at his answer, and you’ve never looked even more gorgeous. His heart thunders aggressively against his ribcage.
"I'll meet you at your room to help you with that." is all you say then turn to head to the elevator, not before snatching your phone in his hand.
He lets out a breath he didnt know he was holding. Snapping out of his stupor, he moves quickly to get his water bottle filled before sprinting to his room like a horny lovesick fool. God, you really will be the end of him.
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a/n
proofread it a bit, but probably still scuffed. i didnt bother at first because i thought i didnt like this piece enough. i see yall want a part 2… lmao i shall try. pray that my ovulation takes over me 🙏
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yourstrqly · 6 months
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✰ LET ME ANSWER, L. HAMILTON
[ preview ] the possessiveness comes to the light when your ex won't stop calling you during sex
[ tw ] smut, sir kink, description of a female body, answering the phone during sex, piv, riding, possessiveness
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. minors do not interact .
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lewis raises his eyebrows. four times, for the fourth time your phone screen light up on the nightstand, the name 'ex' showing, causing you to reach out, hands that claw on his strong back letting go, to decline the incoming call. it irritates him but the disturbance won't stop him from pushing inside your pussy again.
"give me the phone, darling", is all lewis says, shortly pulling out to sit himself against the headboard.
he looks ridiculously hot like this, tattoos glistening under the sweaty film on his skin, a single braid having found its way from the ponytail. there's a smirk on his face as he pumps his length and you want nothing more than for him to say what you should do now.
And then he does. "Ride me."
You hand him the phone and grab the base his cock to hold it in place, so you can easily slip the length inside.
A loud wail escapes your throat when his heavy cock scrapes up your inner walls, and you slowly start to ride him. he slides a hand under your ass, forcing you to bounce faster in his lap. your back arches, leaning against his chest and your hot breath fawns on his neck, where you bit softly into it. his throbbing dick stretches you out, leaving a burn when he reaches the depth of your wet hole.
You don't notice lewis pressing the green button, accepting the face call.
"hi baby, look I—who the fuck are you and where's my girl?", the guy on the other side asks, voice gruff and laced with anger. you try to keep quiet, but lewis has different plans, bending his knees to fuck himself roughly in your spongy walls that make lewd, squealing sounds. the trill of humiliating your ex turns you on; you thighten around your boyfriend's fat cock, feeling an orgasm incoming. nails dig into his shoulders, your vision is blurry and you moan, head thrown back with the mouth agape.
"tell him darling, who's making you feel this good?", lewis grunts, seeing your creamy pussy leaving a white ring around the base of his cock.
"you, sir", you whine, "you feel so good."
needily you rock your hips in his lap, ignoring the fire in your legs; his thick tip gazes the g-spot over and over again, causing you to choke out mewls and cries of pleasure — you nearly have forgotten your ex. "who the fuck do you think you are, huh?"
"i'm the boyfriend", lewis bits out. "You hear that?" You let out a high pitch cry, legs trembling as you cream his cock and drench his balls and tights. "that's the sound of my girl coming around my dick. every single day."
limp in his arms, you rest your head on his shoulder to make room for him to mark you up; you feel warm at his possessiveness, taken care of and loved. lewis' pillow lips nibble on your throat while he chases his high, chanting curses before he pulls out, throwing you on your back and spill on your pudgy stomach. you reach for the white liquid, skoping some on your fingertips before licking them clean, sucking gently the bitter taste of him, making lewis groan. "my dirty little girl, hm?", he whispers, the naughty smirk he still wears changing into proud one.
"for you, i'm everything, sir."
having not forgotten the face time call, you grab the phone to face your ex, who looks straight out of a comic with his harden gaze and red-from-anger cheeks. with mischief on your mind you angle the phone and press an open mouthed kiss on his lips, all tongue and teeth. it's messy like that and you love it.
breaking apart, the screen is black.
"didn't know you could act like this, lew", you grin happily. the man only laughed in response as he got up to get you a cloth to clean you and himself; he knows that you're turned on by this side of him, and maybe, just maybe, he'd do it again, even though the thought of someone else hearing your sweet moans make him jealous. wordlessly, he puts on sportify, the voices of temptation singing his girl, and he goes down on you, ever so softly whipping your pussy.
humming from inbetween your legs, lewis states: "you're made for me, darling."
"I know", you reply, slowly drifting to the lands of dreams.
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rina speaks • ₊° ✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ . . [ 🪐 ] based on this requests! hope I did it justice x
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