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#even if for whatever reason she doesn’t end up wanting it; i already have the money lol. and my best friend is always super enthusiastic
feinv · 3 days
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the thought of john wick being a girl dad makes my heart melts 😞
“you are too young to have a kid. you don’t even want children,” i whisper to myself as i continue writing this on the verge of a sob. john wick as a girl dad <3
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i wholeheartedly believe john wick was put in this world for one reason only, and it’s to have a loving wife and a daughter.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 he is so devoted to his family, always putting the two of you first. oh he has a business meeting in twenty minutes? well too bad, because he is cancelling, his little princess wanted to play some more.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 you will often catch him in ridiculous outfits, like dressed in all black professional suit with a pair of fairy wings on his back your child made him wear. or cute hello kitty hair clips in his dark hair. and he doesn’t mind!! whatever makes her happy :)
ᯓᡣ𐭩 expect to be showered in compliments by your child too because that’s what she sees john do all the time “mommy you are so pretty!! daddy is always right,” and you are like :<
ᯓᡣ𐭩 this man has all the money in the world, he would spoil his child to the brim. every barbie doll, every cute dollhouse, whatever she wants. besides that, he would always put in time and effort, and not just buy things. he will absolutely build a small treehouse for her, sit down to play and draw, watch ridiculous amount of cartoons.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 a strict parent, but in a sense that he doesn’t get mad or yell, he just makes the kid respect him! he would be so patient with her, calmly explaining why doing such thing is wrong and how can she fix it. he didn’t have the best childhood, and he would hate to turn out like people who raised him, so he would often get too worried and ask you if he is treating her right or being too strict with her.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 being graced with an energetic child often gets you exhausted by the end of the day. but he is there for you :3
“john, i cannot keep up after her. she is like. on full battery mode all the time,” you huffed softly, a happy smile on your face as you dropped your head to his shoulder.
“get some rest. i will stay up with her,” he chuckled lightly, giving you a goodnight kiss before going back to living room where the mini version of him already set up all the games they were going to play for at least two hours.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 it’s the least he can do for you. he doesn’t think he will ever be able to repay you for everything you gave him: love, home, family, and purpose. he will always be grateful to you that you not only chose him to be your life partner, but also trusted him enough to build a family with him, and he will spend the rest of his days with a sole purpose of bringing happiness to your faces <3
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fingertipsmp3 · 2 years
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So I got commissioned yesterday and I was kind of nervous because I haven’t crocheted in a long time and have never made anything for this person before, but she is apparently beside herself with happiness over the colours I picked & the fact that I agreed to the commission, so I think this is going to go well
#i love crafting for people who are ridiculously enthusiastic about the things i make#long story short a couple months ago while i was clearing out my yarn stash i found a rainbow crochet blanket i made and had forgotten about#and i ended up gifting it to my best friend because i knew she’d love it and i didn’t want to look at it anymore#as i was frankly embarrassed by the mistakes on it (it doesn’t lie flat and is not a square)#and yesterday i went over to her house and her niece (late teens) was there and she said she absolutely loves the blanket and how much#would i charge for a similar one#and i was like ‘i’ll be honest with you: i don’t know if i’ll ever make a similar one’ but she offered money and basically said i don’t have#to use it to buy materials if i don’t want. i can use up yarn from my stash and keep the money as compensation for my time#she just wants a colourful blanket in that specific pattern (which is essentially just one big solid granny square)#so i agreed and sent her a photo of my planned colour scheme and she was delighted because there’s so many shades of blue#(her favourite colour) and overall she just seems to be really happy and excited that i’m actually making it#and now by extension I’M excited to make it#it’s just like. it’s something i’d probably make anyway. i’m using up materials that i need to use up. and i know it’s going to a good home#even if for whatever reason she doesn’t end up wanting it; i already have the money lol. and my best friend is always super enthusiastic#about the things i make so she’d probably take the blanket if her niece didn’t want it#tl;dr i’m just excited about this project. might post a photo when it’s done idk#personal
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lemonlover1110 · 4 months
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𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐄𝐒
Toji Fushiguro
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: Toji's girlfriend can be a brat but he punishes her for it (he forgets about the punishing halfway through)
Warnings: Smut, Age Gap (Reader in 20s, Toji 40s), Daddy Kink, Praising, Degrading, Face Fucking, Titjob, Spitting, Cum Eating, Double Penetration, Sex Toys, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Spanking, Creampie
*This is a repost LMAO here's the original one (I'm the author to both so don't come into my inbox bc you didn't look) anyway. I did tell my readers I would repost certain works for a reason❤️
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Toji simply adores when his girlfriend misbehaves. He acts as if he doesn’t and acts embarrassed when she’s suddenly a brat in front of all of his friends, but of course he won’t praise her for it. He punishes her for it, and God, does he love punishing her for it.
“You need to learn how to watch your mouth.” Toji tells you, nearly ripping the dress off you. You act clueless, batting your eyelashes as the very expensive dress is thrown somewhere else in the room. You take a seat on the edge of the bed as his hand goes under your chin and he tilts your head up. He doesn’t know what he wants to do with you. Or he does know, yet he doesn’t know how to start.
One hand begins to unbuckle his belt while the other squeezes your face. He looks into your eyes, you’re trying to look innocent but he can read right through it. He takes off the belt and ends up tossing it to the side before his hand unbutton his pants. “What will I do with you?”
He stops squeezing your face and takes off his pants along with his boxers. His hand goes to his cock and he strokes it slowly, deciding what he’ll do first. Before he orders, “Open your mouth, nice and wide for me.”
You shake your head until Toji furrows his eyebrows. He orders it once again, much meaner, “I told you to open your fucking mouth.”
You end up opening your mouth, and he pushes your head on his cock. Every inch that you can take of his cock goes into your mouth. You’re gagging, not being able to take it all. Drool falls down from your mouth to your chin, tears welling up in your eyes. You love it.
And you love it even more when he begins to move his hips, his hands gripping your hair. You look up at him with the eyes he loves to watch. He can tell that you’re loving this. You’re such a brat on purpose so he ends up doing this. “I hate how such a filthy mouth feels so good.”
He’s groaning, shutting his eyes as he lets himself loose. Your mouth feels so perfect around him, and the sound of your gagging is like music to his ears.
He looks down at you, seeing the tears stream down your face. It brings him satisfaction, and he knows that you’re satisfied as well. Otherwise you wouldn’t have been such a brat in front of his friends. They already criticize him for dating a woman nearly twenty years younger than him, it doesn’t get better when you act like such a brat. 
His balls slap against your chin with his every move. His hips get faster as his release gets closer and closer. Watching as you struggle and hearing your gagging encourages him to go faster. It’s such a turn on for him– Everything you do is such a turn on for him.
“I love your fucking mouth. So fucking good.” He tells you, his thrusts getting sloppy. With a few more thrusts, his cum hits the back of your throat. He finally pulls your head back, and you gasp. The mascara is running down your face, and he finds you more beautiful than ever. Even with some cum and drool falling from your lips.
“What am I going to do with you now?” Toji questions as you reach behind and unhook your bra. He’s still hard.
“Whatever you want, daddy.” You answer, standing up. He gets an idea as you take off your bra. He takes a seat on the bed, and his hands go to your back and he pulls you closer to him. His hands go to your breasts, his mouth wrapping around one of your nipples while his hand plays with the other.
“Fuck me with your tits.” He says when he pulls away. You smile at him before getting on your knees. Your hand wraps around his cock and you spit on it a couple of times before you bring your breasts together and put his cock in the middle.
“Is this what you want, daddy?” You ask him, a smug look on your face. You begin to move your breasts, and Toji bites down on his lip so he isn’t louder than he has to be. He watches your pretty little face, and he holds back from giving you that satisfaction of hearing his moans. He let them out while fucking your mouth, but then he was doing all the work, you just had your mouth open. 
“What a good slut.” He ends up praising, feeling your cleavage move up and down his cock. He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back. You stop moving your breasts for a moment while Toji orders, “Open your mouth.”
You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, allowing him to spit in your mouth. When he’s done what he wanted, he lets go of your hair and you go back to moving your breasts. Toji now lets himself moan into the air while you ask, “You like it, daddy?”
“You’re doing such a good job.” He praises. Your head goes down, your tongue licking the tip of his cock. He’s going to come at any moment. He’s moaning, getting louder and louder with each movement of your cleavage and tongue. “Make me come like a good girl.”
“Gonna make you come, daddy.” Your tongue stops licking his cock, and you look back at him. He looks at your pretty little face, your makeup all ruined because of him and he smirks. He has to close his eyes, yet another release overtaking him.
“Fuck–” He groans, releasing his seed all over your tits. You smile at him, as his cum coats your tits. One finger drags on his cum and you bring it up to your lips. You begin to spread the cum on your nipples. You stand up and your head goes down while you bring your tits up to your lips, licking his cum off.
He watches you lick his cum off your nipples and he swears he could burst all over again. He sits quietly for a moment before he stands up. He unbuttons his shirt and ends up taking it off.
“Get on the bed.” He orders and you do as he says. You sit down on the bed while Toji goes to your nightstand. He opens the first drawer and he pulls out what he needs before walking back to you. “On your stomach, ass in the air.”
You take off your panties before getting on all fours on the bed. You arch your back and wait for Toji to do something with the dildo he pulled out of your nightstand. He pours cold lube on your ass and then on the toy.
“You want me to stick this toy up your ass, baby? Will you take it like a good girl?” He questions, smacking your ass cheek with the toy he holds.
“Yes, daddy.” You respond, making Toji smack your ass with the toy again. He teases your asshole with the dildo for a bit before he begins to push it in. A gasp leaves your lips as the toy fills up your ass. Toji chuckles at your reaction, still pushing it in until he can’t push it in more.
His hand begins to move the toy, and you begin to moan in pleasure. It always takes you a moment to adjust, but you fucking love getting your ass fucked. The toy feels nice, but you like it more when it’s Toji is the one inside of you. 
“You like that, baby?” He asks and you hum in response. The moans that leave your lips are more than a good enough answer. He’s still going to ask. 
He smacks your ass while he moves the toy faster, “It’s so good, daddy.”
“Oh yeah, baby? How would you like me to put my dick in your pussy too?” He questions, one hand reaching to grab one of your hands to bring it back, “Fuck your ass, baby. Be a good girl and fuck your ass.”
You begin to move the toy, much slower than he was, while the tip of his cock runs through your folds. He pushes his cock into your cunt, and he doesn’t waste any time. Every inch is pushed into your cunt and he begins to rapidly move. One thing about you that he loves is that you never complain.
“What a good girl. Taking it all with no problem.” He praises you. He’s hissing at the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him, and the sigh of you fucking yourself in the ass certainly adds to the pleasure. His eyes are practically rolling to the back of his head as he moves in and out of you.
“Your tight little pussy is so good, fucking love it.” He smacks your ass again. He wishes he could look at your face while you’re taking it all. Your eyes are probably rolling to the back of your head as he fucks you and that toy moves in and out of you.
One hand goes to your hip while the other grabs your toy and he begins to move it in and out of you again. You feel so good with Toji and the toy. You feel your orgasm approach as both his cock and the toy hit all the right spots. You’re moaning his name uncontrollably as you feel your climax approach.
He’s moaning as he feels your cunt tighten around him. The sound of skin smacking and your moans that get louder and louder are very preeminent in the room. “I’m gonna come, Toji.”
“Come all over my cock like a good girl.” Toji says. You loudly moan his name, your body spasming as you come on his cock. He takes the toy out of your ass and both his hands go to your hips, gripping hard enough to leave bruises. He’s chasing after his third release for the night. “Taking it like a good girl, so proud of you.”
Now he’s the one moaning your name, in disbelief at how good your cunt is making him feel. God, everything about you is just so perfect. He comes to a stop and his cum fills you up. He doesn’t pull out until he makes sure every drop is in your cunt.
When he pulls out he warns, “Next time I won’t be so nice.”
“Sorry, daddy.”
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bloompompom · 2 months
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˗ˏˋ guilty pleasures ˎˊ˗
☆ content: eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, reader cheats on her loser boyfriend, dirty talk, praise, pet names, masturbation, pussy job, just filth, written very fast my apologies, mentions of alcohol, explicit language, explicit sexual content, reader discretion advised 18+ ☆ word count: ~4.2k ☆ a/n: just a warm-up that got out of hand
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Your boyfriend sucks. That isn’t an opinion, either. It’s a fact. The sky is blue; what goes up will always come back down; your boyfriend is and will forever be a jackass. 
At least, according to your friends, Eren in particular. Sometimes according to you, too—let’s not leave that part out, it’s important.
Countless times, your boyfriend had driven you to wit’s end and back because yes, you always took him back. You aren’t the type to leave a kicked puppy out in the rain or a groveling man lying on your doorstep. He’d come crawling back, looking all lovesick and apologetic, and you’re ashamed to admit it hasn’t failed him yet. 
Listen, Eren is just your friend. He doesn’t know the ins and outs of your relationship any more than the next guy. What he knows for sure is that your boyfriend generally sucks as a human being, and he knows you know it, too. 
And it’s about time he does something about it. 
Tonight’s as good a night as ever to make a move. Eren’s roommate, Armin, insists on hosting a game night every other week-ish to ‘get the gang together,’ as he likes to say. But game nights are hard. No one likes to learn rules. So game nights soon devolved into movie nights, which turned into drinking nights after no one could agree on a movie.
That’s the plan for this evening: drinking the beer Jean brought along with a few leftover seltzers from the last time they got together, and spending some time with you. Alone.
You walked into the apartment huffing and puffing, pissed over whatever your boyfriend did or didn’t do. You’ve spent most of the night wallowing in the displeasure, trying to hide it, but it’s not working; Eren can tell you’re furiously texting Sasha every little detail despite sitting across from one another.
If you were to ask any of your friends, they’d say they previously believed you and Eren would date. You had that energy about you—still do, frankly. But then you met your boyfriend and you’ve been seeing each other ever since. On and off, of course.
Eren dated other people, too. And sure, he liked them, but that’s all. Finding happiness with something (or someone) is difficult when he constantly sees the greener grass on the other side.
He used to believe it was a timing thing, the reason you never hooked up. It made sense back then. But now, Eren knows it’s not a timing thing because he’s single and you can dump your boyfriend any time you want—if that’s what you want. 
Eren can pry. He can be forthright and ask what you’re texting Sasha about. But that’d get him nowhere; you’d undoubtedly reply, ‘Girl stuff,’ and let the subject die there. 
He noticed you don’t talk about your boyfriend problems when he’s around. Not that he expects you to. He would have written it off by now if he hadn’t heard you confiding in Armin about it. Jean and Connie, too. How frustrating it is that you never tell the one genuinely curious person. The one who wants to know and wants to show you how much better things could be, with him. 
So Eren does just that. He catches you at the right moment, once it’s just the two of you. Armin was in bed and Sasha already left, taking Jean and Connie with her. The only guests remaining are you and Mikasa—she’s been sitting heavy-eyed on the couch for the last twenty minutes and would probably be out cold in the next ten. 
Then there’s you, all squirmy beside him. 
“Are you cold?” Eren asks. He knows you’re not, but he also knows you’d never answer the more direct ‘Are you okay?’
“I’m fine,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, “I’m just—”
“Having a long night?” Eren guesses.
You merely sigh, but it’s weighty enough that it sounds like you’ve been holding it in for a while, like you must’ve needed it. 
“That’s one way of putting it.”
It’s vague, but you still feel you said too much.
You fiddle with your fingers, hands resting in your lap. You focus on that rather than the fact that you can no longer bring yourself to meet Eren’s eyes; it’s too much, it makes your insides burn uncomfortably hot.
You can’t deny how Eren makes you feel. Even more, you can’t deny that you came over tonight with him on your mind—the sort of thoughts you shouldn’t have while tangled up with another guy. 
“Is there anything I can do,” Eren slides closer to you, “to make your night better?”
Yes, you think. Yes, yes, yes.
You shake your head, gaze fixed on his leg pressing against yours. 
“It’s not your problem to fix,” you try to assure, but it lacks any sureness. Instead, it’s demure and… inviting? You almost made it sound like a dare. 
“That doesn’t mean I can’t try,” Eren says, always up for a challenge, especially if you’re the prize at the end. 
You’re better than this, you tell yourself. You’re above this. 
At the same time, you can’t help but think: what would your boyfriend do if the roles were reversed? You’ve argued about his fidelity before—hell, you argued about it hours ago—and you have no more clarity than you did from the start. 
Maybe you haven’t been perfect, either. Maybe there were times you should’ve told Eren to cut out the flirting and even times you shouldn’t have reciprocated it. You thought it was harmless then, that you’d never end up exactly where you are now. You also never imagined how invigorating, how right, it would feel. 
Eren places his large hand on your thigh, tentatively at first, light despite the guilt weighing down on you. When you don’t stop him, he becomes confident. He slides his hand higher, squeezes you gently. It’s chaste, something that could still pass as friendly if not for the way it made you weak.
I am absolutely not above this.
That’s how you ended up in his bedroom. Eren whispered for Mikasa and when she didn’t respond, he took it as the all-clear—that no one would know if you decided to head somewhere more private. Eren snuck you down the hall, shut the door behind you, and had you to himself, for the first time. 
Your heart thrums in your ears. It’s adrenaline, anticipation, a rush you never want to end. You hardly hear him when he asks, “How can I make your night better?” He nears you in a step. “What would you like me to do?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” you murmur. He wants to hear you say it: that you want him. You want his mouth on yours, maybe on your neck, his hands on your chest, smoothing down your hips and between your legs. You don’t give him the satisfaction of it. 
You lean into Eren without a word. He moves with you, meeting you halfway. You lead, he follows. You’re the one in the relationship, not him. 
You tilt your chin high to meet him. He catches it between his fingers, gently guiding you to him. Your noses brush; your lips don’t, but you’re so, so close. Close enough for your lashes to flutter softly against his cheek, for you to feel every one of his hot breaths as they break over your lips. It’s intoxicating. It’s not enough. But you can’t make yourself seal the fateful gap between you. 
“I can’t,” you regretfully stammer. It physically hurts to say the words. You wound the devil sitting atop your shoulder.
Eren doesn’t say anything, only pulls away from you. You don’t feel in control of your hand when it snatches a fistful of his shirt. You keep him there, still as close as before, eyes flitting between his pupils, big and blown, and his lips. He remains frozen, silent. He lets you decide where this would or wouldn’t go. 
“I don’t—fuck, I don’t know what do to,” you bemoan. Your head is a spinny, screwed-up mess. Screwed up from forbidden fantasies and raging hormones and the pool of warmth spreading in the depths of your stomach—all from him. 
“What do you want to do?” Eren asks in a low voice. 
It’s coaxing, cloying, but it’s needful at the same time. It’s a voice you’ve never heard from him, yet it’s familiar. It’s reminiscent of the same need burning inside you, so hot you think it might create a hole, one perhaps only he can fill.
You lick your bottom lip only to find your mouth has gone dry. 
Eren nudges the tip of his nose against yours. “I can tell you what I want to do, if that would help.”
He nuzzles lower, beneath your jawline. He doesn’t kiss you there—no, he wouldn’t do that. What he does is worse. It’s teasing. His breath fans over your ear and sends a shudder down your spine. He needs you not only to hear but to feel every word, every dirty thing he has imagined doing with you.
“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he breathes against the side of your face, warming you from the inside out. He clasps his hand over yours, then slips it between your legs. “And I want to watch.”
Eren touches your hand, encouraging you to rub. You feel the heat of your cunt through your clothes, like there’s a fire in your belly. You finally let its flames engulf you and god, burning never felt so damn good. 
You’re dizzy, you’re flustered—how could he possibly say that with such calmness? More than anything, you’re dumb to everything except the boy in front of you. 
“Can you do that for me?” he asks, smooth and soothing. “I’ll only look. I won’t touch, I promise.”
It’s a lousy excuse for a loophole. Actually, it doesn’t even qualify as a loophole.
Eren leans back, holding your shoulders in his hands. He looks you in the eyes and again, he insists, “No touching.”
Loophole or not, you can’t find it within you to care. You trust him, you think. Either that or your brain short-circuits because you can only repeat back, “No touching,” as you bob your pretty little head. 
Eren smiles down at you, runs his knuckles down the side of your face. It’s gentle, it’s praising, it brings—no, it yanks you back to him. 
“Lay on the bed,” he says. 
You do as you’re told, laying back on your forearms. He tugs your bottoms off with ease and reveals a pair of pale blue panties—a telling color. When you spread your legs for him, he can see how you’ve stained them with your arousal, soaked and ruined after some innocent teasing. 
You touch yourself without him having to ask. You trace over the damp patch and play with your clit through the fabric. He sees how easily your panties slip between your folds, how fucking wet you are, and has to stifle a curse.
Eren drops to his knees, nestled between your legs at the foot of the bed. He has a hand on either of your thighs, almost white-knuckling the plush skin.
“Look at that.” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or your pussy. “You like it when I talk to you, huh? When I tell you what to do?”
You whine at the words, rub your clit faster. You want to come. 
“So needy. What’s the rush?” Eren tuts. He climbs onto the bed, propping his back against the headboard. “Make yourself comfortable.”
As he says it, his hand travels lower. Dangerously low. It draws your attention to how hard he is, his insistent cock tenting in his sweatpants. He palms over it once, then twice, then grips himself through the fabric. Fuck. 
You stare with too much interest. The corner of Eren’s lip curls into a smirk when you have to close your hungry mouth. He’s just as greedy, though, just as riled up as you. Even the touch of his own hand has his arm muscles tightening and twitching.
You crawl over to his side and try to relax into the pillows as best as you can. Your shoulders droop, your knees fall to either side, but there’s a tremble to your hand as it returns between your legs. Your touch remains feather-light, almost a tickle, as you dance a finger along the hem of your underwear. You watch lecherously, with your head lolled to one side as Eren mirrors you—you’re still leading. His thumb dips below his waistband.
This still counts as ‘no touching,’ right?
Eren shoves his hand down his sweatpants. You can’t see it when he takes his cock in his hand, only the outline of him slowly working over his length underneath the fabric. 
Your eyes ask the question your lips wouldn’t dare to ask. Eren responds, “You first.” His eyes flicker to your crotch—your panties, more specifically. 
Your fingers stutter and pause. You’ve already dipped your toes into the corrupt waters, so you might as well take the full plunge.  
You tuck your underwear to the side, pinching them in the crease of your thigh. Your fingers are almost cold against your wet, hot skin and you shiver in response, letting the feeling wreck down your spine. You clench around nothing, whimpering just as helplessly. 
“Fuck,” Eren breathes, an incidental hiss.  
He pushes his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, and his cock slaps his front. He aches for anything more than his hand, but it’s all he has right now. It’s agonizing how what he needs is so damn close, but out of reach. 
He pumps himself faster, tightening his grip around the sensitive tip to mimic your cunt.
He can only catch glimpses of it. Your panties persistently get in his way, and when they aren’t, you’re having to tug them back to the side. Your gasps and moans turn to little grunts, your frustration staving off your orgasm even further.
Eren goes to grab your underwear but stops himself short.
“Take them off,” he tells you, somewhere between a request and a demand. If this is his one chance to be with you, to see you, then he’s going to see all of you. 
You listen. Your hand slips from between your legs and a sticky string connecting your fingers to your cunt snaps. You hope Eren didn’t see it, but you’re sure he did based on the impatient sound that comes from the back of his throat. You lift your hips from the bed and shimmy your underwear down your legs. Then you kick them to the floor. 
You don’t settle back into the bed before Eren says, “I want to see more of you,” because this still isn’t enough. “C’mere.”
He adjusts you to his liking until you’re in front of him, lying back on your elbows, spread, with your feet caging his hips. It’s a vulnerable position, you admit. One where you’re completely bare and completely on display and there’s no shying away. You may have even found it embarrassing if not for how turned on you are. The urge to come is nagging, simmering for so long that you fear you may boil over and do something you’ll regret later. 
“Shit.” Eren’s in awe of the sight before him: your glistening cunt, swollen and practically begging to come, and the dreamy expression on your face. It’s the sexiest you’ve ever looked, and he’s not even sure it’s intentional. Your eyes are as alert as they are moony, as confident as they are flustered; a doe locked in his headlights, willing to eat out of his palm despite her better judgment. 
“Spread yourself for me,” he murmurs. You do it with two fingers. “God, look at you.”
So pretty. What a shame it was that such a pretty pussy would go unfucked tonight. 
Eren leans back again, this time with a complacent hand tucked behind his head. He spits into his other, then slathers it over his length, unblushing to how your eyes follow every fluid movement.
“Go ahead,” he says, still calmly fisting his cock. “For real this time. Make yourself come for me.”
The encouragement travels straight to your core. You sink your middle finger inside first, then you add another. Your walls pulse, sucking the digits in further. You curve them, drag them in and out, in and out, until you find a pace that has your thighs threatening to snap shut. You pull out of yourself one last time and, with properly wetted fingers, you return to your neglected clit. It only takes a few slick circles before your breath quickens. 
“Yeah, just like that—fuck.” Eren feels his cock throb against his palm. He slows, pulling and tightening his grip, still pretending his hand is anywhere near as soft as your pussy. “You’ve listened so well. You deserve to come, don’t you think?”
You moan something incoherent.
“Tell me,” he says, smug and urgent, somehow at once. “Tell me what a good girl you’ve been. That you deserve to come.”
Slippery, unforgiving sounds fill the room, from the both of you, but you’ve already shed any shred of decency you had left. You dipped your toes first, and then you took a fateful dive. But now, the current has stripped away any semblance of control you had—or thought you had.
You’ve become a passenger inside your own body. Every motion feels wild and unpredictable, yet intimately inevitable. It’s a kaleidoscope of feelings and sensations. It’s strange and exhilarating. It’s this raw and primal surrender to only what’s physical and nothing more. 
Flowery language aside, you know one thing for sure: as much as you enjoy hearing him talk filth to you; he enjoys hearing you just as much. 
“I’m a—ah, I’m your good girl,” you moan shakily. Your skin becomes unbelievably hot, your fingers stuttering, struggling to keep up with your neediness. “I d-deserve to come.”
His good girl.
Eren’s stomach lurches, abdominals tightening. He nearly comes.
What a fucking gift you are. How lucky Eren feels to witness how you get yourself off when no one’s around, how you like to tease yourself—maybe even pretend he’s the one teasing you.
You bring a hand to your chest, gingerly caressing the tips of your fingers along your nipple that pokes through your shirt. You slide the hand over your breast before groping it fully. 
“Can I see your tits?” Eren blurts. Once again, there’s no use for dancing around the truth of the matter anymore: you both wanted to get off. 
“You first.” You giggle a little, all breathy, then restate, “Take off your shirt.”
Eren smiles at you before stripping, revealing a cute flush creeping up his chest. You stick to your promise, peeling your shirt off and tossing it aside. You skipped putting on a bra this evening because it was supposed to be a quiet night-in with friends, but it worked out pretty well for this, too. 
You graze your fingers over the peaks of your breasts, bouncing just so with every rub, rub, rub of your opposite hand. You bite back a harsh gasp, but little hums escape past your teeth, anyway. 
Eren’s thighs twitch. He fights the urge to buck his hips, to fuck up into nothing. His pants turn strained, exasperated. He thinks he might be numb to his hand at this point. He could use his spit again, but why should he have to when you’re right there, as desperate as he is?
Your name’s a raspy plea on his tongue. His hands smooth up your legs as he coos, “I need to feel you, baby.” His thumbs stroke your inner thighs, growing extremely close to the apex between them. “Need you to help me come. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”
Eren’s hands wrap around your ankles, pulling a yelp from you as he drags you toward him.
“I won’t put it in,” he promises. You’re so close he can feel the heat of your cunt against the underside of his cock. His hand somehow looks small in comparison as he holds himself at his base. He angles his cock until it’s about as close as it can be without touching you. “Please.”
Your heart pounds against your ribcage, but even more frantically, it pulses between your legs, loud and demanding. It’s as impossible to ignore as the man before you. Hot and horny, with messy hair and pretty pink cheeks and an even prettier cock that leaks at the mere thought of touching you, staring at you like he wishes to devour you whole.
You nod, and Eren doesn’t hesitate to push his cock between your slit. You watch him do it, sitting higher on your elbows. Even with the faintest amount of pressure, your jaw goes slack. 
He rocks his hips, gliding his cock through you, up and down, with the ridge of his head nudging your clit. Your skin prickles despite the thin layer of sweat you’ve accumulated.
You raise your hips, dragging your pussy over him, and bring yourself back down to the bed. His cock jolts. You feel it. You repeat the undulating motion again and again, effortlessly, because you can’t recall a time you’ve been wetter. So wet he slips out a time or two. He takes advantage of it once, tapping the tip of his cock against your clit.
Eren gives a low chuckle when your head falls back between your shoulder blades. “What a pretty little mess you are.”
You tilt your hips so he’s back in place, hitting your clit just right, over and over. It doesn’t take long for your legs to shake, swaying like they may give out. He steadies you, resting his hand on the divot of your hip. 
“Oh, god—Eren.” Your voice pitches on a broken moan. “I think I’m gonna come.”
His hand curves around your side, his fingers digging into the fat of your ass. He uses the grip to keep you moving, to guide you through it. He barrels you down the hill toward your release, and you can’t stifle a single cry as they spill from you.
“Yeah, that’s it. Let it all out, baby,” Eren encourages, saccharine as always but airless. Though his own release is imminent, he refuses to allow it to happen before yours. 
He flattens his fingers against his cock, pressing and adding delicious pressure. He proves how heavy, how hard, he is for you—how much better he’d feel inside you. The mere thought of it makes you groan. You push back on him instinctively, arching your back as you teeter on the edge of your undoing.
“So fucking hot,” Eren grunts, thrusting as if he were truly fucking you. He meets you each time you bear down on him, his pelvis slapping against you as his hips rise from the bed. “So fucking hot.”
That familiar feeling fizzes in your stomach, swarmy and radiating through you. It sparks in the tips of your fingers, even in your toes, and then your orgasm rips through you. Your entire being tenses, fists knotting themselves into the sheets and eyes screwing shut. The pleasure is white-hot and leaves you with stars behind your eyelids.
Eren urges you to open your eyes. “Keep ‘em on me while you come.” 
You try your best; you don’t let your eyes roll back. What’s hidden behind your fluttering lashes is pornographic. Your soaked thighs—his soaked thighs. You don’t even want to think about the blankets below you. 
You curse and cry his name. You look ruined, with eyebrows pinched and pulled together, your mouth hanging open like you want to scream out your orgasm. Eren crudely imagines how wrecked you’d look, how much better you’d feel, if you were coming with him inside you.
Your knees snap together, thighs sealing shut around his cock. He continues to fuck between them, against your pulsing, oversensitive pussy. Your body is spent and shaking, and he is right there with you. The sinewy muscles of his chest flex as he builds toward his climax.
“God, fuck,” Eren pants. “I’m gonna come, baby. Gonna come all over this pussy.”
When he does, it’s with his head thrown back and a beautiful groan. His body is flush with yours, his cock spilling across your legs. Come drips down the creases of your thighs, smearing with the last few pumps as he draws out every drop. He can’t believe he could feel so good from something as pathetic as grinding.
Your body lies limp, sprawling across the bed with your legs still draped over him. You wait for some post-horny clarity to smack you across the face, but the only slap you feel is the truth: you deserve better. You aren’t going back.
You stay there, waiting for the rise and fall of your chest to settle. One moment, you’re staring at the ceiling, then blink, Eren’s above you, taking your cheek in his hand. His fingers curl around the side of your face before he places his mouth on yours. He’s soft, both how he feels and how he kisses you, with lips slotted perfectly against yours, coaxing them open with his tongue.
You finally let him touch you this way; you kiss him back. You wrap your arms around his neck, and you wish for the moment to stay, just for a little longer.
1K notes · View notes
backwzzds · 5 months
Note
absolutely need a plug!zoro cheating on his gf with u nsfw …
no bc y’all are on a roll w these plug!zoro requests! position is based off this video btw 😩
ೃ⁀➷ what you want, roronoa zoro
thinking about the way that man would literally hate his girlfriend fr. like, he’s sure he’s only with her because his family loves her, but he just doesn’t. and i mean he proves that when he ends up outside your door in the middle of the rainy night, somewhere around 3 AM.
everyone would always ask him—why not just break up with her? and zoro never had an answer. his girlfriend was too fragile of a person and he hated that crying shit honestly. the only person he ever cared about making cry was ironically you.
his relationship was anything but secure. zoro was chill with whatever his girlfriend did. he trusted her, at first. she wanted to go to a party, he’d let her. she got a ride from some guy friend who was maybe his level of attractive? he didn’t care. but the same rules didn’t apply to him. zoro could be getting ready to go to work and his girlfriend would be up on him with accusations.
“i feel like you’re gonna go and fuck that bitch,” his girlfriend spat with venom, referring to you as he slid on his jeans. the green head couldn’t help but roll his eyes as she rambled on about disliking you. he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself lightly when he realized how crazy she was behind closed doors.
“well now i’mma go do that just cuz’ you said it,” he muttered, just trying to get underneath her skin. his girlfriend thought he was bluffing, but not with the way blood rushed to zoro’s dick at the thought of just being in your arms to cuddle tonight.
zoro doesn’t think twice either when it comes to pulling up to your crib. he parked in front of your cute little car, something he did to express his dominance over you in the way your cars together looked like a ‘his and hers’ pair. he was weird like that, but that’s just how much he felt for you fr.
by the time he gets to your door, his heart is already thumping in his chest. not in fear of getting caught, but instead at the sight of you in your tiny nightdress, two sizes to small to barely contain your wide hips and busty breasts.
you give him a blank look as you leaned against the threshold of the door. “ian call you for no weed.”
zoro gives you his million dollar smirk. “you should know that’s not the only reason i come over anymore.”
“yeah yeah to cheat on your girl, sure zoro,” you roll your eyes.
the green head kisses his teeth, “not cheating if i don’t want her.” with a step to the side, you helplessly let him in, and he wastes no time in kissing your lips. “missed you so damn much.”
“missed you too,” you can’t help but mutter against his lips. zoro wraps his hands around your waist and pulls your smaller frame against this larger own. his hands shamelessly wanter down to the fat of your ass as he grips it, giving it a reddening smack and repeating his actions.
zoro pulls away with one last peck to your lips. “how was your day mama?” he grabs your hand and drags you to the couch.
“fine,” you muttered with a bored expression, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv.
zoro furrows his eyebrow and snatches the remote from your hand. “what’s up wit’ you? you okay? talk to me.”
you shrug your shoulders. “i’m straight,” but your tone wasn’t convincing him otherwise.
zoro gives you a suspicious hum before pulling you into his lap. “what you doing tomorrow night?”
“probably homework,” you admit. “why?”
zoro can’t help but grin at you, flashing his gold canine pieces. “got us tickets to see that standup you been wanting to go to.”
your eyes can’t help but brighten at his words. “you lying.”
“i’m so deadass,” zoro laughed.
you kiss your teeth and slap his chest. “you don’t even like comedy!”
the greenhead gives you a shy shrug with a small blush flaming his tan cheeks. “they have an open bar, free sake so,” with a playful roll of your eyes, you kiss your teeth but smile. “so you gon’ stop giving me this bratty ass silent treatment?”
“whatever. you’re a whore for sake.”
“nah,” zoro shakes his head. “you ain’t hit me all week. you know what i had to go through not talking to you.”
you give him a sarcastic frown before pecking his lips. “aw, poor baby.” you move to pull away but are shocked when zoro grips your face and forces you back into his orbit.
how you found yourself half naked on his lip with your legs spread for him—you don’t know. damn mosshead was just that good.
“i got you,” zoro’s voice is all you hear as he steadies you on top of him with your back facing the tv. his one arm is all he needs to steady your body against his lip while he uses the other to start rubbing at you clit. “just touch me baby.”
a breath escapes from your throat as you find the courage to wrap your hand about his hard cock. his tip is an angry peach color as it oozes out pre cum, already excited from your touch. “like this daddy?”
“fuck, just like that mama,” zoro’s own breath hitches in his throat as he fights not to buck up into your grasp. “love the way you touch me. just like that baby. make me feel so safe.”
you’re almost shocked by the words leaving your mouth as you continue jerking him. the two of you hold an intimate scope of eye contact as you touch each other’s body, nothing being heard but the soft moans and breaths from your arousal.
“make you feel safe?” your voice is soft and sultry as you run your thumb over his tip. zoro can’t help but groan at his sensitivity, too late to even catch himseld. “feel safe when im loving you like this papa? you like that?”
“oh fuck, yes,” zoro whined, fully submitting to you. his girlfriend had never seen this side of him. every time he had sex with her, if he ever did, it was quick and to the point. no one was able to milk out this soft and vulnerable side to him but you. oh how you had his fucking heart and dick in the comfort of your pocket.
your legs are spread in front of zoro, giving him a complete view of what you were working it. somehow wanting to see you spread more, he grabs you by your thighs and opens you up more, practically salivating at the sight of your pretty clit glistening from his touch.
“you make me feel safe too,” you breath out with a blushed smile, trying to keep your pace with jerking zoro off. it was hard to do so when he was rubbing you nice and slow, just the way he knew you liked it.
at this point? it was all more than sex. zoro meant every word he uttered out, especially how you made him feel safe during his most vulnerable moments. only you bought this side out in him.
“fuck i’m almost there, zee.” you throw your head back and grind further into his touch.
“me too baby,” zoro breathed out, watching as cum oozed from his tip by the second. “you fuck me so good, no one does it like you—shit.”
you lick your lips as you lean over and spit on zoro’s cock, adding more lubricant to your already slippery movements. “like it when i stroke your fat cock papa? like this?”
“zoro bites his lip and nods his head. a whine fights to break through from his mouth as he lets out a broken “mhm. fuck, mama. keep going and you’ll make me cum.”
you take this as a challenge and speed up your movements with hopes to overstimulate him. zoro’s mouth falls open, and the tables inevitably turn when he’s shaking beneath you, watching you milk every drop of cum out of him. you hold your tongue out as he shoots his load upwards, droplets of his semen landing on your taste buds.
a greedy smile graces your lips as you continue jerking him off, more and more cum flying out from his sore tip by the second. “fucking hell—just like that just like that, fuck!” zoro moans loudly as he feels himself get drained.
you didn’t mind the fact that he came before you this time. watching this hard man come undone before you was enough to have you creaming all over his fingers right after. you too begin to breathe heavily as zoro maintians his circular movements against your clit.
when you’re both fucked out from your intimate session, zoro slides you onto his lap, your clit begrudgingly grinding against the base of his still hard dick. with his face in your neck, he breathes out, “i’ll break up with her. your eyebrows raise at his words. “if that’s what you want.” you waste no time in giving him a stern response.
“it is what i want.”
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steddiealltheway · 10 months
Text
(So, idk if anyone has ordered or seen the Scoops Ahoy costumes from Amazon or whatever, but the shorts for Robin are tight and short. But the shorts for Steve are like the ones seen in the show. Which leads me to this thought…)
Steve’s first day at Scoops Ahoy is… alright?
Actually, it’s pretty miserable.
Scooping ice cream is way harder than it looks. And for some reason he can’t get that perfect rounded shape. It just comes out in pieces that he has to mash into cups and balance on top of cones.
Plus, he’s pretty sure his coworker hates him.
Her name is Robin, and she scowls and dramatically points at her name tag when he asks for it. To make matters worse, they apparently went to high school together, but he doesn’t have the vaguest memory of her. (To be fair, they did not run in the same social circles with her being in band and even theatre and with Steve being “King Steve.”)
But for some reason, she loves to poke fun at him especially when he fails to get any girl’s number. It’s like the Harrington charm radiates through his hair which is blocked by the stupid hat.
But what he really notices only an hour into their eight hour shift is the way she’s tugging at her shorts. She digs her fingers under the elastic band around her thighs as if trying to stretch them out, and she’s constantly trying to pull them down as they begin to ride up.
And really, Steve not trying to perv or anything, but she’s make quite a bit of a fuss with the whole thing, cursing under her breath and obviously really uncomfortable.
So, when the store is fairly empty, Steve turns to her and asks, “Do you want to change shorts with me?”
For the first time, Robin laughs. Loudly. She even snorts at the idea. But her laughter quickly dies down when she realizes Steve isn’t laughing. “Wait, you’re serious?”
Steve shrugs. “Yeah. You look uncomfortable. And hey, I’ve worn way worse to basketball practice, plus I had to wear speedos when I was on the swim team.”
Robin’s nose scrunches up. “Gross.”
Steve puts his hands on his hips and huffs, “Do you want to switch or not?”
She takes a few seconds to stare at Steve, clearly suspicious of an ulterior motive. But then, she curses and starts tugging at elastic band again. “Okay! Fine. But we’re not getting change in the same room.”
Steve rolls his eyes as he heads to the back room. “I wasn’t suggesting that.”
In the end, Steve is left to change in the damn freezer storage area while Robin gets the whole break room. But he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so he sucks it up and doesn’t complain. (Although he really really wants to.)
He waits for her to knock on the door to signal she’s ready, looking down at the shorts. They’re not horrible, but he can understand why Robin was uncomfortable - as they’re already stretching over his ass and thighs while starting to ride up beyond mid thigh.
Even after she knocks, Steve asks, “Ready for me to come out?”
He thinks he hears her laugh about that for some reason before she answers, “Yeah!”
He steps into the room and glances down at her new shorts momentarily before nodding. “Better?”
Robin smiles slightly and nods before heading back out to the main area.
Steve follows behind her. “Hey, they gave me two pairs of these. I can give you the extra pair to wear and keep during our next shift together.”
Robin turns to him and narrows her eyes. “What are you asking for in return?”
“Nothing,” Steve says, eyebrows furrowed. He hopes she understands that he really means it and won’t hold this over her head like an asshole.
She just stares at him for a few seconds before almost wondrously saying, “Huh.”
Luckily, she seems to relax for the first time since their shift started.
After this, the teasing from before has less of an edge to it, but it becomes relentless. Steve almost thinks that maybe this is the start of a wonderful friendship. But Robin would never want that from him.
He only changes his mind about this later when Eddie Munson walks into the store while Steve is cleaning the tables. He accidentally knocks over a napkin and bends over to pick it up, feeling his shorts ride up.
When he stands up, he’s met with a pink faced Munson who stares at him - or rather his ass - with wide eyes.
“See something you want to sample?” Steve asks honestly a bit against his will because it’s part of the Scoops Ahoy greeting. (Only for some reason, he’s unable to get any other part of the greeting out.)
Eddie’s pink face turns red as his eyes snap up to Steve’s. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he quickly breathes out, “I need to leave.”
When the boy practically runs out the store, Steve naturally glances over his shoulder at Robin, trying to gauge if she just saw what he did.
She’s already laughing behind the counter saying between bouts of laughter, “See something you want to sample?”
Steve huffs and feels a blush rise to his cheeks. “Shut up,” he mumbles out, throwing the napkin away before returning behind the counter. “I’m never asking that again.”
But as Robin continues to laugh, Steve can’t help but join in a little, wondering if maybe she would like to be friends and if Eddie will ever come back.
So, maybe his first day wasn’t pretty miserable or just alright. Maybe it was perfect.
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plleeeepppyyyy · 1 year
Note
Hi hi hi!!! If you're still doing requests, could you perhaps do Wally Darling and a reader that's always sleepy?
ofc ofc!!! very cute request! (⊃。•́‿•̀。)⊃
(also mind u,, this was not the first request i gotten,, i jus got this one finished quicker (メ﹏メ) )
wally + sleepy reader!!
☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎
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•every time wally walks around you or sees you, he always sees you sleeping or on the verge of passing out. he finds it pretty amusing, don’t get him wrong he’s pretty worried about you sleeping almost every day. he’s definitely curious.
•he asks some of his friends first if they know why exactly it is why you do this, but they just assure him, “oh y/n is always sleepy!” that answer wasn’t good enough for him tho,,
•he finds you in the weirdest spots sleeping too, like this one time where you were just,,, laying on the ground while holding a plant. he watched you for a bit and just shook you up, he def walked you home as you were back on the verge of sleep.
•another time, you were gone for the WHOLE day, everyone was looking for you, poor julie was sobbing as if she lost her kid just already putting up posters of you,, but nope, howdy found you sleeping in one of the cabinets in his shop. how did you even get there?? you got a scolding for sure, how was that even comfy?
•wally took the opportunity to ask you a question, you were just laying your head on a table, again (for what seemed to be the millionth time) on the verge of hitting the hay. he asked you why exactly were you tired 24/7? he didn’t understand! it was just a silly concept to him, sleeping all of the time. even if he tried, he could never sleep with the house on his mind.
•you just simply replied, “why not?” wally hummed in fascination and watched you for the rest of the time you were about to sleep. but you were a bit talkative that day, so whatever came on your mind you talked about it to wally.
•after that wally admired how much you just didn’t care for much, you were just in your own little world.
•he DEFINITELY wanted to paint you too, you had no problem letting him. he just told you to sleep, definitely wasn’t an issue for you.
•he woke you up for,, maybe about a hour or two? and showed you an absolute masterpiece, you just sleeping. you loved it, and put it up on your wall. he still kept sketching and drawing you from time to time, i mean you were just still, a simple person to draw for sure!
•he also makes sure you don’t end up anywhere to crazy to sleep, its like he keeps tabs on you. its like if you were just walking somewhere, he just tugs on your hand and is like, “no, this way, silly!” he’s like a guide, making sure you don’t end up back into the river situation,,
•he totally wouldn’t mind if you laid your head on his shoulder; or anywhere on him honestly. he wouldn’t bat an eye if you leaned on him and just hit snooze. wally will continue talking to whoever, still making sure you’re fine. he’d rather have this than you accidentally sleeping on the roof or somewhere dangerous.
•wally finds himself giggling at the silliest things you do or say. like; why are you talking about hippos all of sudden? weren’t you just asleep?
•if he wants some quiet time to himself but not be completely alone. he def goes to you, maybe it’s because you’re sleepy but you’re just calm half of the time too. he also likes to ask you for suggestions on what to paint or draw next, you just mumble out the most random of things. you’re like a spinning wheel! to him at least,,
•you for sure were an interesting character in his book, so goofy. a good friend to despite you sleeping daily.
☁︎︎☁︎︎
romantic ver, ( ˘ ³˘)
•wally just adores you,, like why you so sleepy?? he finds it cute, you’re like a sleepy kitten 24/7. for some reason it makes him giggle to himself.
•definitely watches you 24/7, he doesn’t wanna let you go or leave you be. like before, he’s your guide to not falling in a brook. hell, he’ll even carry you around if you’re that tired. the neighbors look at you both and go, “oh look there goes wally and y/n!” as he just carries you around. :]
•theres always quiet moments between you two, you’re probably just snoring on his bed as he sketches,, well probably you. he always has some sort of art for you, pottery, paintings, whatever he can do, he did it for you.
•he’s also noticed how despite you being sleepy, you always try to make sure you talk to him. you’re just on the verge of sleeping yet again as you talk to him about this type of frog you saw early ago. wally really notices the little things. <3
•he gets all gushy and happy whenever you lean on him as a pillow or something. literally he just wants to grab you and just run away. but he keeps it in as he wraps his arm around you. even so, you can still notice the adoration in his eyes. a whole ass gentleman too, he WILL never move when ur sleeping on him. he shushes some people to, likee shhhh my boo is sleeping.
•to be honest, wally sleeps not so often, he definitely does more now that you help him. but whenever he just can’t close his eyes or anything, he watches you. and how peaceful you are, and he gets confused. how can you sleep so much? waking up to wally staring at you with those big old eyes is both scary yet endearing. you ask him what’s going on with him and hes just like, “you’re so peaceful, can’t help but keep this sight of you all to myself.” wit those big eyes,,
(≧◡≦) ♡
•ack,, okay so he for sure def whispers to you or something whenever you’re tired. he just perks his head to you and just whispers ever so softly, as if you’re already sleeping. even when you’re dead asleep he’ll whisper some stuff. if you’re lucky enough, you’ll probably hear him.
•SPEAKING of whispering and such, he def sings you asleep. as if it was hard enough for you to do so,, but still, legit you LOVE it when he sings to you. his voice is soo soft and listening to it is just, hhhhh, makes you malfunction at times.
•he still finds you at random places too, he quickly picks you up and just wakes you up. he’s all like, “oh, what are you doin here :)?” while ur kinda like ,, “hh”
•to him, you’re just admirable. even if ur sleeping in a not so fancy fashion, he admires how you sleep, even if you wake up all jus cruddy, he’s still looking at you with his big lovey dovey eyes.
•if you have any trouble trying to stay awake he helps you def, tries to at least. if you drink caffeine to help you out with it, he’s all for it. but makes sure you don’t over step it, can’t have his lover too hyper! he also tries to have you have a normal sleep schedule (if you want ofc) but if it doesn’t work than it’s perfectly fine,, you guys will find smth to help you out. ♡︎
•calls you snooze bug, literally he’s so corny at times but its cute . <3
•it’s just when it comes to you he’s so gentle wit you,, its very endearing to watch between you both.
•overall he loves you sm,, his sleepy little person. he’s patient with you all of the time, your sleepiness is part of the charm for him. wally wanted an excuse to carry you around anyway. ❤︎︎
____
okay this was rlly fun to do!! im prolly gonna do all of ur guys’ requests based on finishing it earlier than others if thats fine,, (٥⁀▽⁀ )
i also wanna thank all of you guys for giving me a LOTTA notes and positive feedback!! im glad ur all enjoying reading these as much i love making these,, 🫶
literally all of ur guys’ requests are so damn cute , can’t wait to have em all finished and have you guys read them!! (eventually)
ミ★
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horrorartsworld · 3 months
Note
Clingy ass Valentino…HEAR ME OUT PEOPLE!PUT THE PITCHFORKS AWAY!
He just adores his little pornstar so much,he buys her whatever she wants.her dressing room might be more expensive than an art museum
New nails? Done.Wanna get your hair done? He’s already given them his card
She just gets so used to being spoiled that she’ll start to get bratty when he won’t get something,and then that leads to a brat being out in her place…(IF YOU KNOW WHERE IM GOING)
I LIVE FOR THESE KIND OF ASKS!! EATING THIS SHIT UP FOR BREAKFAST HONEY 🤭🤭 Also can you tell I have fun writing for Valentino…it’s DISGUSTING
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spoiled rotten
clingy valentino/spoiled pornstar f!reader
warnings: smut obviously, HEAVY brat taming, oral (m receiving), rough dom!valentino, brat!reader, unprotected p in v, spanking, grinding, face fucking, orgasm denial, creampie, pet names, daddy kink, lots of dirty talk cause when doesn’t val talk dirty lol, soft valentino??? at the end
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A low strum of a knock is heard against the door of your dressing room where Valentino now stood with it all the way open. “Doll?” His voice following shortly after, sounding a bit tired though it still had the alluring presence that was always intoxicating.
Huffing, you see his tall stature from the reflection of your large vanity mirror, ducking his head as he came through the doorway not bothering to wait for some kind of gesture from you to come in.
Red eyes immediately catching the new things you’ve bought probably in the last week or days even.
Various articles of clothing with high price tags still on them strung and obviously thrown onto a big luxurious pink sofa that sat on one end of the room, an assortment of shoes adorning the other with plentiful shelving space to display most of them, and lets not forget the jewels that you had laid out like magazines on your coffee table that were so sparkly they hurt when he glimpsed at them.
All of it was making Val very overwhelmed and most importantly uneasy. It was like you were gonna run him dry of all his hard earned porn money, seeing you spend it all so carelessly only to buy pointless things that you think is cutesy or fun in the moment, but that feeling would always subside when the girl he adorned more then himself would give him the time of day….and of course you knew this all too well once you became spoiled.
Taking advantage of it when you could to get the things you want, wearing tight little mini skirts that would show your panties when you bent over or putting on your big doe eyes when he was being even a bit hesitant with your request. It was always the best too when you’d catch him in a big meeting, your delicate figure sauntering into his office letting his colleagues gawk at you in the new outfit you’d bought that showed just about every inch of your assets, causing Valentino to almost loose his shit seeing them look at you and he then has to deal with you quickly, shooing you off with his card in your hands to get whatever your little heart desires.
Which is the exact reason why your hair and nails were always done at almost every shoot, making some of the other girls quite jealous of you seeing the princess treatment you got from Val that they very much lacked, but who were you to care? You the porn studios sweet little prized possession and nobody could change that.
“What do you want?” You hiss annoyed while applying mascara to your long lashes, taking your gaze away from the tall moth man as he approached you, large hands resting on your shoulders, giving a small kiss to the top of your head.
“I just wanted to check in before your shoot..make sure everything’s okay with my favorite little estrella,” He rests his chin on the top of your head, his chest rumbling with a low purr as he spoke watching you so prettily apply your makeup in the mirror. “Well the shoot is just gonna have to wait tonight, i’m going to a party at the club,” You say nonchalantly as if nothing could persuade you not to go.
Val raises an invisible eyebrow at you. “Party? Oh no baby you gotta be here, the men banking on this is gonna pay us millions to distribute it..” He pauses for a moment standing up straight to take out his box of cigarettes before continuing, “…besides we both know your closet would struggle if you missed out on this kind of opportunity..”
Gawking at him in the reflection you couldn’t believe the insult he just threw at you, making you act dramatically by throwing your chair back letting it clatter to the floor as you turned to face him. “Listen here Valentino..This industry would be nothing without me and this cunt between my legs, now if i want to go to a party i’m going to go to that fucking party! Whether some perverted pricks like it or not, they can reschedule for all i give a fuck!!” You spat then stomping away from him till you were on the other side of the room where you flipped through different pairs of bottoms on a rack, not believing how unfair he was being towards you when you’ve worked so hard to get where you’re at. The scent of his now lit cigarette clouding the air made you feel like you couldn’t breathe, a low tsk is heard from behind you till that feeling of your breath slipping from your airways got more prominent until you were tugged back making you fall onto your ass.
“Don’t forget who owns you..” He snarled, the coolness of the metal collar that had suddenly appeared around your neck reminded you of the soul contract he had over you, the feeling leaving a bad taste in your mouth, along with the vice grip he had on the end of the chain that he just pulled to make you fall.
“Matter of fact turn around for me..”
“Valentino..i-i didn’t mean-“ You try to apologize, but you were cut off by another tug on the chain, this time more harder than the last making you choke.
“I said turn around now.”
You quickly turn around, resting on the backs of your heels on your knees, looking up at the moth man with a gaze akin to that of a deer all while he towered over you. To your dismay your look of innocence only turned him on more, letting go of the chain that held you till it dissipates in mid air and the coolness of the collar is gone, wasting no time as he undos the large heart buckle sat at his midsection and pulls down his white dress pants till they’re pooling at his ankles. He was already so hard that when his cock sprang free your eyes immediately met his leaky tip that was a deep purple from its usual color, he then takes it in one of his hands and taps it against your lips. The pre smearing into your freshly applied lipstick.
“Open princess..” Val cooed through gritted teeth, the end of his cigarette wiggling in his mouth while he spoke.
You start shivering when you feel his claws racking against your scalp, too caught up in what was happening Valentino presses the back of your head down on his cock forcing the tip to push past your lips, taking him in your mouth fully without a moment to adjust and it immediately hits the back of your throat earning a soft gag from you and a low chuckle from Val. Once you catch your bearings from the unexpected sensation, you began to bob your head like the pornstar you were, sucking and licking like you were starved.
“Mmm..that’s my good girl..daddy’s good girl huh…” He hums out a gruff moan, a hand snaking its way down to caress your cheek that was full. Your eyes flutter up at him catching him in such a sinfully good angle that made you whine against his cock, cigarette barley hanging from his lips, the buttons on his shirt opened showing off his rather lean built body, muscles flexing and the white fur around his neck fluffing up when you used you flicked your tongue against a vein in a certain way getting him closer to his already building orgasm. “Taking it so good aren’t you baby? It's okay, hhpmh..you don't gotta talk with your mouth full, I know you fucking love worshipping daddy’s cock..”
The tears start pouring down your face, ruining your mascara in the process as his words along with the filthy sounds of you sucking him off made your cunt throb with an unbearable need. You scoot closer in attempt to grind against his leg, whimpering when the heat from his body, combined with the friction from his leg and the fabric of your panties rubbed deliciously against your sensitive clit.
"M gonna cum doll..Swallow for me yeah? Every last drop, do you fucking hear me?” Valentino growled suddenly his frustrations over taking him, putting out his cigarette(finally) as he fisted your hair proceeding to take control completely, bucking his hips relentlessly into your mouth as he face fucked you. Drool leaking down your chin as you tried to continue your grinding against his leg trying to match his speed until he came down your throat. Pulling you off his dick with a little pop to let you swallow, Valentino lightly tapping your chin, letting red smoke spill from his mouth as he leaned down to your level. "Atta girl…lemme see."
Seeing that you obediently swallowed his seed, he roughly yanked you from your position on his leg, eyes disapprovingly glaring down at you from behind his sunglasses. “You think you can get off on my leg without permission?” He scolds like an owner to its pet. “If you’re gonna cum cariño, it’s gonna be with you squirming on my dick.”
“B-but..” You sniffle, only to be silenced by Valentino with just a finger signaling you to. He then throws you on the couch not caring about the high end clothes still on it, crawling onto of you shortly after.
“Shhh not another word,” He shushes you, leaving kisses down your neck feverishly, while his hands worked at pulling down your skirt and panties in one quick motion. Slamming into you before you could even mutter out a protest like the brat you’ve grown to be. One of his hands reaching above you to hold onto the arm of the couch as he fucked into you with a dizzying rhythm, pounding relentlessly into your cunt just like he did to your mouth. “Fuck princessa, I should just let them record us…Millions of sinners seeing you get your brains fucked out by the man who really owns you…owns this pussy..”
“Y-you own this pussy daddy…” You babble out, whimpering when he hit that particular spot that drove you crazy to the point your clit swelled.
A primal instinct ignited in Val when he heard you say that, making his thrusts stutter for a minute until he started fucking you like an animal once more. “Say that again baby..”
You were too focused on the pleasure that you didn’t hear him, earning a good smack to the side of your ass snapping you out of it with a pitiful whine.
“Tell me who owns this pussy..” He husked in your ear for another time.
“Mm daddy does..” Valentino could tell just by your voice and the way your cunt was sucking him in that you were getting close, and it only excited the man more for what he deviously had planned. Pulling you closer to your orgasm by adding hand to rub circles at your soaked clit. “Yeah he fucking does..”
You let out a meek moan at his prideful exclamation and the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that was coursing through you. You should’ve known better that this would’ve been the outcome of your little tantrum from earlier, but secretly you loved the punishment. Being used like a fuck doll for Valentino to use. Your mind going dumb on the thought causing your cunt to clench with your needed climax, a pout forming on your messy lips.
“G-gonna cum, please Val!” You practically begged feeling your tears come up again.
"Not until l've had mine, princessa." He huffed breathlessly, burying himself deep inside you with one finally thrust, wings fanning out and fluttering while he spilt his cum all inside you.
The feeling of being filled made you desperately want your own climax so much more, but he quickly pulled out of you, killing that mood within an instant, leaving your legs shaking and your lower stomach aching for release.
"I changed my mind," Valentino said with a smirk, but there was a hint of admiration dotting his red eyes. "I think you don't get to cum today. Not even at work i’m rescheduling the shoot for another day since you decided to show your ass.”
He began to clean himself up, picking up his pants from the other side of the room and slipping them back on. You wanted to pout again, especially because he was basically back to being so unfair, but you knew better to not otherwise that would result in another denial of your orgasm. Once he was back to his normal overly sensual self, he turned to you, red eyes having a more stone cold look in them with his lip curled seeing you still shaking on the couch. You had been rid of your panties and mini skirt, leaving you just in a skimpy little top that was jostled around by Val with one of your tits hanging out of it. Makeup smudged and battered, along with the consistent drip of Vals juices and your arousal from your used hole falling onto a unworn dress that was nestled under your bum.
"Now what do you remember from today?" He asked one set of hands on his hips as the others were crossed over his chest.
The way Val stood over you so authoritatively made your core throb once more, but you tried to push it to the side as you gathered what ever thoughts you had of the lesson he seemed to try to teach you just now.
"I need to remember my place and not talk back," You mumbled quietly.
"And?" Valentino added quizzically raising his chin to tell you to proceed.
"To listen to you." A smile pulling up at the corner of your lip as you knew he was fucking with you now.
"Good girl…Also, you might want to get that dry cleaned cariño," He gestured to the dress underneath you making you look frantically till you saw it.
“Oh whatever!” You say rolling your eyes playfully giggling at him.
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whatswrongwithblue · 2 months
Text
Alastor Headcannons
Fem cat demon reader in a relationship with the Radio Demon
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SFW
Rosie introduced him to you. Maybe not necessarily with the idea that you two would be romantic, but she saw similarities between you two and knew you would eventually hit it off.
Once you stopped constantly arguing, that is.
The man had been an Overlord for so long and had sworn off attempting romance for an even longer period, that he genuinely did not recognize his feelings for you as romantic inclinations at first.
He knew he liked you. Admired you. And enjoyed your company. Could talk to you for hours about anything and everything. So obviously that meant he wanted to own your soul.
That blew up in his face – almost literally.
He quickly found out there was nothing he could offer you, or do to you, including putting you in harms way, to force you into making any kind of deal with him. He couldn’t make himself do a damn thing to you. And that scared him and made him avoid you for a long time after that.
But when you two did eventually reunite, it was a lightbulb moment for him, and he pretty much immediately started pursuing an actual relationship with you.
PDA isn’t really his thing, besides hand holding and possibly a hand on the small of your back if he’s feeling extra possessive or wanting to show you off.
The biggest exception to this rule is dancing. He loves to take you dancing.
Surprisingly, he really doesn’t mind others knowing you two are an item.
Some might think he’d want to hide it, worried that others would see you as a weakness to exploit but honestly? Who would dare go after something the Radio Demon held in such high regard. Let them try, my dear.
In private, if he’s in a good mood, he’s quite the sweety.
His love language is definitely acts of service and quality time.
He’ll want to start each day relaxing, enjoying coffee and breakfast with you. He cooks. And throughout the day he really enjoys just being the same room with you, even if you’re both absorbed in your own tasks.
In private, if he’s in a bad mood, he’s very distant.
Don’t touch him and try not to interrupt his work.
He’ll still unconsciously show his affection for you by letting his guard down in these moments.
He’ll let his mask slip a little, show you how upset he is when he would never let anyone else know what’s capable of actually getting under his skin.
He’ll be in some disheveled state. Have his jacket off, or bow tie undone, or hair tied back. He’ll have his microphone across the room. Little things to show he’s still comfortable being vulnerable with you but still . . . best not push it because then he’ll get a little mean.
If you’ve accidentally hurt his feelings in some way, then the insults will start. He’ll call you annoying or dramatic, but he won’t raise his voice unless you do first. He rarely swears so when he does, you know he’s completely at his wits end with you or with whatever else has upset him.
He would never ever lay a hand on you.
If he’s really pushed to the edge, his power might be harder to control. Lights may break, his shadow will go nuts on the wall around you, and he’ll even take on a more demonic, imposing form, but you’ll still feel completely safe in his presence.
Have I mentioned how rare these arguments are? There’s a reason why he’s comfortable enough to be in a relationship with you, because 99% of the time, you understand each other perfectly and can calm the other one down.
At the end of a “no touch day” he’ll usually come find you and initiate some type of cuddle. Usually once you’ve already gone to bed.
He’ll slip under the sheets behind you, probably still a little damp from a shower, and either be the big spoon or, if you’re awake, rest his head on your chest while you stroke his ears.
Those ears are mighty sensitive. Not in a sexual way, but it always sooths his exhausted nervous system when he allows you to touch them like that.
That, and your purrs. No lullaby in the world is as potent as the mesmerizing sensation of your purrs when his body is laid close against yours.  
It took him a few months to admit it, but after the first time he told you he loved you; he says it all the time. His mother always told him you couldn’t overuse that phrase if you meant it, so you tend to hear it multiple times a day.
He isn’t fluent in Louisiana Creole, but he knows a few phrases, and will slip into the native accent of his youth and whisper them in your ears when he’s trying to sooth you if you’re the one upset.
He took decades to propose. You never pestered him about it, but Rosie did – and that probably made him take even longer to get around to it than if she had just let it alone.
Neither of you were super into the idea of a big ceremony but then word got out and half of Cannibal Town was asking about Save the Dates so you two decided that while the vow exchange would be short and sweet, the reception would be a fucking party.
NSFW
Sex had not been a part of this man’s life for a very long time.
He’d only been in two brief relationships, once as a teen, and once later to appease his mother, and neither one exactly went well.
Even his rut, which makes most other demons sex-crazed, used to just make him more aggressive and territorial. The physical aspects of it were easy to take care of in private, so he never had to seek out other outlets.
But then you came along and while it still wasn’t as much of a priority for him as it was for you, he still found himself enjoying and even desiring that kind of intimacy with you.
For the first time in . . . well, ever . . . he found himself initiating sex with someone, rather than the other way around, and you found yourself pleasantly satisfied whenever he was in the mood.
Don’t get me wrong, he could still be - and was often - very touch adverse, especially after a difficult day.
But if he’s happy and relaxed and you’re around . . . you two are going to end up under the covers.
He used to hate his tail. He’d even cut it off more than once, but it always grew back. But you liked it and he liked anything that pleased you. And then you started touching it during intercourse and he really liked that.
If the guy has one cum button, it’s you stroking his tail while he’s inside you.
It also really helps that you are so comfortable with your tail and you constantly let him touch it.
He’s definitely a top. Sex is just not interesting to him unless he knows you’re getting off, so it’s either mutual pleasure or your pleasure, but he doesn’t care for anything that involves just his body.
You enjoy going down on him, and it’s okay for him, at least for starters, but he rarely lets you do it for very long. It’s just . . . boring, for him. He’ll compromise and 69 if you’re really in the mood for that kind of thing.
He gets very excited when you’re in heat.
It’s the only thing that can -almost- always override his touch aversion on a bad day.
The idea of you wanting him that much, to the point of it being a near constant physical need for him to be inside you, really gets him going.
He wears out faster than you do, but even after he can’t get it up anymore, he has a multitude of other appendages (fingers, tongue, tentacles) and even some toys that he thoroughly enjoys using on you until you are finally sated.
He’s not one for dirty talk. It makes him uncomfortable, and he finds it distracting. He stays pretty quiet himself during sex, but he loves the needy little moans and whines you make.
He does bite.
And slap your ass.
He’s not usually one for restraints or whips, but he does enjoy marking you with his teeth and claws. Again, this man wanted to own your soul, so he’s going to enjoy leaving physical reminders all over your body that you are his.
His rut is much harder to handle now that he’s sexually active.
And he’s very different in bed when he’s in a rut.
That’s when he dirty talks.
And that’s when he really gets rough.
You have on more than one occasion been face fucked to the point of choking and tears.
And those shadow tentacles really come out to play during that time of year.
They’ll be wrapped around your body, your neck, limbs, etc. They’ll fuck your mouth, your ass, any part of you that his cock isn’t in. He wants you completely controlled and filled up by him when he’s fucking you in his rut.
And he can go for a very long time. Multiple times. You learned after the first year to just plan on taking a vacation that time of year because really, other than eating and sleeping, he pretty much demands that’s all you two do.
He can sometimes lose control of his power and his bodily form during sex.
You’ll know when he’s close to climax because those antlers get massive and his eyes tend to go black. And if he’s in a rut, he can get a little  . . . big.
Like, all of him. His entire body. But also yes, his dick gets larger then, too.
One time, you were just about to say you were getting stretched a little too much down there, and his weight was starting to crush you, when he literally broke the bed. That’s all hot and steamy in romance novels, but you just about broke your tail that night and ended up nearly impaled by the bed frame.
Another time, he got his antlers stuck in the backboard of the bed and that was even more embarrassing for him than breaking the actual bed had been because it took him so long to calm down enough to control the size of those things and meanwhile you had just been pinned beneath him and laughing hysterically at the very horny, very frustrated, very stuck husband of yours.
He’s a self-inflicted insomniac and doesn’t let himself sleep much, so after sex, he tends to pass out next to you and when he finally wakes up, he usually insists you join him in the bath or shower for some aftercare.
He’ll help clean any wounds that haven’t already healed, massage your overworked muscles, and verbally check in with you that he didn’t take things too far. Especially since after a rough rut-induced session, he gets awfully insecure about the things he did to you in the heat of the moment.
Of course, you’re always happy to ensure him that you really enjoy that side of him and you’ve never felt like he’d taken anything too far with you.
(P.S. These are some ideas I worked through on what this ace-spectrum Overlord man would be like in a committed relationship for my new OC wife x Alastor fic. I’ve been working on it for weeks now and am just about ready to start posting. It’s been very difficult writing him truly in character while also navigating meeting my OC, coming to terms with his feelings for her, and how he would behave as a partner/husband. For this post - so that it can be its own standalone work - I’ve changed all the wording to Y/N, with the only specifics being that Y/N is a cat demon. But if you really enjoyed this, I hope you’ll stick around for The Fire in the Sin. It’s going to essentially be all of the above turned into a novel, that’s half prequel and half current events for Hazbin Hotel.)
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
Text
i wanna make your heartbeat run like roller coasters
for @subeddieweek day one with the prompts manhandling and accidental subspace
rated e | 3,520 words | please check ao3 for tags
⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕
Eddie gets pushed against a lot of lockers.
It’s rarely accidental.
It’s always painful.
He doesn’t exactly have a lot of meat on his bones. Every hit leaves a bruise.
So when Steve fucking Harrington does his own dirty work for once, even though he graduated the way Eddie was supposed to, it’s just a bit embarrassing that it doesn’t hurt. It feels…kinda like he should be on his knees.
Which is really not something he wanted to think about when Steve’s got a hand on his shoulder, gripping hard enough to bruise, and something like fear in his eyes. Why is he scared?
“Did you sell weed to Robin?” he asked, teeth clenched.
Jesus fucking Christ. Steve’s got himself a band nerd girlfriend. How the hell did that happen?
“No, I sold to her friend. She waited by the treeline talking to herself the entire time.”
Eddie could hear his own voice shaking, but he wouldn’t back down. Black eyes were kinda metal weren’t they?
“Which friend?”
“Dude, I don’t even know. Someone else in band.”
The hand on his shoulder tightened and he barely bit back a whimper.
Steve’s eyes were very pretty this close. They were pretty from far away, too. Honestly, having Steve this close was probably rewiring something already broken in his brain. Having Steve’s hand on him like this was making his brain do somersaults trying to stay focused.
And then his hand was gone.
Eddie breathed in, breathed out.
“Sorry. I-” Steve shook his hands out and backed away. “Sorry.”
Eddie ignored whatever the fuck was happening in his stomach. It shouldn’t be happening so it isn’t, simple as that.
“Maybe you should ask your girlfriend if you’re so worried about her buying drugs.” Eddie should learn to shut his mouth at some point. “I only sell to the people who come to me first.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. I remember.” Steve wiped his hand down his face. “Sorry again.”
Eddie looked him up and down, taking in the fact that he was genuinely apologizing. No one ever apologized for knocking him around, not even when it was on accident.
“You good?” He eventually asked.
“Yeah. Just, she’s been through a lot. I didn’t really want her to get pressured into buying something,” Steve sighed. “Has she come out of the band room yet? I’m supposed to bring her to work.”
“Uh, yeah man, everyone left an hour ago.”
Eddie watched Steve’s face fall as he checked his watch and must’ve realized the time.
“Shit. Okay. I must’ve lost track of time.”
Steve looked pitiful. Eddie’s seen dogs in alleys who looked less beaten down and neglected than Steve currently did.
“I can help you find her?” Eddie offered for some unknown reason.
Well, he knew the reason, but he was choosing to ignore it.
“She’s probably already at work. It’s my day off so I ended up getting distracted with something and didn’t realize it was so late,” Steve admitted, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Thanks, though.”
Wayne liked to tell Eddie he was too nice to undeserving people. Lord knows he gave his dad too many chances and got let down every time. He even tried to be friends with Tommy Hagan in middle school because he could sense something was going on with Tommy’s dad much like his own.
But Eddie liked to remind Wayne that Eddie is often considered undeserving and he took him in and gave him multiple chances regardless.
“You wanna smoke?” Eddie asked, despite knowing he barely has anything left after the long week of midterms for students. His busiest times of year were right before school breaks, midterms, finals, and graduation weekend. He usually stocked up, but with Rick being in prison again, he had to try to stretch what he had out.
“Uh…smoke what?”
“Weed.” Then it hit Eddie that maybe Steve was into harder stuff. But he hadn’t ever even bought from him in high school. Tommy had, Carol had, almost everyone at his parties had, but Steve never did. “I have regular old cigs too if you prefer.”
“Yeah, man, cool,” Steve sighed with relief.
“I got a spot behind the cafeteria if you wanna…”
“Sure, yep, let’s go,” Steve nodded, gesturing towards the double doors that led outside to the cafeteria and auditorium buildings.
As they walked, Eddie’s mind raced with thoughts of being alone with Steve, Steve’s arm brushing against his, Steve pushing him against the wall of the cafeteria, of Eddie dropping to his knees and unbuttoning Steve’s pants and-
“I’m really sorry about what happened back there.”
Steve’s voice shook him from his thoughts, but his dick didn’t quite get the memo. When did he even start getting hard?
“No worries, dude.” His face scrunched in disgust at calling Steve dude. What was next, the bro pat on the back? A fist bump? “Kinda jealous of how protective you are of your girlfriend.”
Okay, actually, what the fuck? Eddie needed to shut his fucking face, right the fuck now.
“She’s not my girlfriend, but uh, I don’t think you’re really her type either,” Steve gave him a look, one Eddie knew well and one he couldn’t quite believe he was seeing on Steve’s face right now.
“Right, right.” Eddie wouldn’t make him say it, especially if it was actually the look he thought it was, but maybe he could offer a little something in return. “Yeah, she’s not really my type either.”
Steve stopped just before they reached the hidden area behind the dumpster and picnic table for staff to smoke.
“Really?” Steve’s eyes were wide. “So you’re more into…someone like…me?”
Eddie was actually leaking into his goddamn boxers. Why was he getting turned on just talking to Steve?
“That would be one way of saying it,” Eddie said. Still easy enough to back out of it, at least. Could just say he likes women who wear polos and use more hairspray than Melvald’s has ever carried at any given time.
“Huh,” Steve continued walking to the picnic table, sitting on top of it and kicking some dirt off the bench by his legs for Eddie to sit. “So those rumors were true?”
“That depends on if I’m gonna make it back home to my very loving uncle if I say yes.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Obviously, I’m not gonna judge you about it when my best friend is-” He cut himself off and Eddie had to give him major credit. The Steve he used to know never would’ve cared if he outed someone, or at least never would have realized that was wrong. He coughed and then looked down at the bench. “You gonna sit?”
Eddie sat down on the bench, extremely close to Steve’s legs. Almost touching. Was that heat coming from his body or was Eddie just extremely warm?
“Did you actually wanna smoke or did you just wanna get out of the hall?” Steve asked after another minute of awkward silence.
“We can smoke.” Eddie reached into his pocket, hating how tight his jeans were in the front, and grabbed his lighter. His pack of cigarettes were usually stored in his van because he rarely smoked them, but luckily he’d brought them with him all week to sneak smokes between classes. He pulled one out and handed it to Steve.
He started to light his own when Steve leaned down, his face right next to Eddie’s, breath hot on his neck.
“You aren’t gonna light it for me?”
Eddie whimpered.
He would deny it a million times over if anyone asked. He almost had himself believing he imagined it.
But Steve laughed and backed away, pulling out his own lighter and giving Eddie a second to catch his breath.
What the fuck was that? Did Steve know he was making Eddie’s brain flatline?
He watched Steve take a long drag out of the corner of his eye, his mind shuffling between ‘what if he fucked me right here?’ and ‘get the hell away before your dick pops a hole in your jeans.’
Steve’s lips were so pink, and looked so soft, and just wet enough from licking his lips before taking the next drag, and Eddie was really going through it right now.
He’d gone through his Steve Harrington phase just like everyone else, thought it was over when he graduated. Had avoided the mall all summer when he heard he was working at Scoops so he didn’t have to see him in those tiny blue shorts. Had even gone so far as to avoid being around when the kids were being picked up from Hellfire because Dustin mentioned Steve was his ride.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Except for Eddie’s imagination was impressive, and his late night thoughts turned into very vivid scenes of Steve working him to the edge and making him beg, or pushing him against a locker and making him take his cock with barely any prep, or-
“Dude, anyone ever tell you you’re kinda space-y?” Steve’s voice once again lifted him from his thoughts, though he felt a bit hazy.
“Think I’m comin’ down with something,” Eddie squeaked out. All he was coming down with was a sickness deep in his chest: Harrington Heart-itis.
“Did you hit your head?” Steve sounded concerned now, setting his cigarette in the ashtray left on the table and moving so he had one leg on either side of Eddie. His fingers landed in Eddie’s hair, pulling his head closer and inspecting it for injury. “I didn’t think anything but your shoulders hit, but maybe-”
“No,” Eddie gulped. He should pull away. “Didn’t hit my head.”
Steve’s fingers tightened, not quite painfully, but enough of a bite to it that Eddie whimpered. Again.
Steve’s grip loosened, but his fingers stayed buried in his curls, and Eddie felt pressure guiding him to rest against Steve’s thigh.
“You eat today?” Steve asked, though his voice sounded kinda far away, like he was above the surface of the water and Eddie was sitting at the bottom of a pool looking up at the sun. “Eddie?”
“Hm?” Eddie blinked up at Steve. “I ate.”
“When?” Steve’s hand was cupping his cheek. “Lunch?”
“Mmm, no,” Eddie shook his head, blinked. “Breakfast? Cereal.”
Steve cursed under his breath.
He was so pretty. Had he been told how pretty he was? Surely when Nancy was with him, she told him.
Even if Robin liked women, she had to at least notice how pretty he was, right?
Steve’s sharp intake of breath somewhat centered Eddie.
“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?” Steve whispered, leaning down so his face was only inches away.
Eddie could kiss him. It would be the easiest thing in the world to lift his head the final two inches to make their lips meet.
“Eddie, eyes open,” Steve’s fingers tightened again, gaining Eddie’s full attention. “Should I call someone? Are you dynamic or something?”
Eddie’s brows furrowed. What did that even mean?
“Like the sugar thing?” Steve continued.
“Diabetic?” Eddie still felt a little hazy, but he was starting to come back to it with Steve’s hand migrating from his hair to his shoulder. “No, my sugar’s fine.”
“I’ve got some soda in my car. I can drive you home and then bring you to school in the morning. You probably shouldn’t drive like…this.”
It all came crashing down when Eddie realized how vulnerable he’d just been, how he’d actually lost track of time, not sure exactly how long he’d been sitting between Steve’s legs with his hands in his hair before he started coming back to earth. He stood up, maybe a bit too quickly, rocking a bit before finding his balance.
“Woah, take it easy.” Steve held his hands out, grasped his biceps to hold him steady. “You were pretty far out of it. Don’t rush it.”
How fucking embarrassing.
Eddie had only gone down that far one time with someone and they got freaked out when he was giggling and couldn’t walk on his own because his legs felt like jelly. But that had been on purpose. This was- Steve didn’t– Jesus Christ.
“I’m fine now.” Eddie was not fine. He knew what would happen if he left right now. Aftercare was a major part of this whether Steve was prepared for it or not. “Just, um, walk me to my van.”
Steve looked like a kicked puppy, but Eddie didn’t have the time to explain all of this to him.
Steve Harrington didn’t know how much of a freak Eddie was even if he did know he was gay. There’s no way Steve participated in any type of BDSM with the many girls he slept with in high school.
There was absolutely no fuckin’ way Nancy Wheeler let herself get tied to a bed and get fucked by Steve.
He shook his head at the thought.
“I’d feel a lot better if you let me drive you. I promise we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Steve sighed. “I just don’t know if you should drive when you went down so hard.”
“You have no idea what even happened,” Eddie argued, pacing back and forth. “I can drive. I just need to walk it off.”
“You don’t walk off subspace.”
Eddie froze. Steve was standing right in front of him now, concern in his big, stupid, adorable eyes.
“How do you even know about subspace?” Eddie whispered.
“I slept with half the high school and two guys in Indy. I know what subspace is, Eds.”
Eddie must still be in space. Or maybe another galaxy.
“Sorry, did you just say you slept with two guys in Indy?” Has Steve seriously fucked more guys than Eddie has? Eddie, the resident gay man of Hawkins, has only been with one man in his entire life and Steve has apparently slept with two?
“Well, I wasn’t gonna sleep with two men in Hawkins!” Steve threw his hands up before putting them on his hips. “I hit up a gay bar and didn’t realize it doubled as a BDSM club until I was already in it and then a nice guy showed me the ropes. Literally. There were ropes involved.”
Eddie snorted. Steve was pretty and funny. Great. Just what he needed.
“I have a quick recovery, so I’ll be fine to drive home,” Eddie tried, though even he could hear his voice still shaking.
“No one is that quick,” Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tugging him into a hug. “Has that ever happened before?”
“Not like that.”
“We should probably talk about it.”
The last thing Eddie wanted to do was talk about how someone playing with his hair and moving his head around while showing the bare minimum of care was enough to send him into subspace, but he had a feeling Steve wasn’t gonna give up easily.
“Fine. What should we talk about? How no one ever touches me gently so the moment someone did, I slipped? How I’ve been avoiding seeing you anywhere in public because I knew it would make my crush come back full force? Oh, I know!” Eddie laughed hysterically as he pulled away. “Let’s talk about how I still think about you in your stupid basketball shorts when I’m fucking myself on four fingers, which is never enough because I can never reach the spot I need to. Or how I once cut out your yearbook photo to keep for jerking off material because my mags weren’t enough. Could even talk about how earlier I wanted you to put your leg between mine so I could rub off on you. Or maybe the weather if you’d prefer that.”
Eddie was panting, could feel the heat on his face rising as he realized everything he’d just said, admitted, to Steve.
He’d never said any of that out loud. Shit, he’d barely said most of it in his own head.
Steve’s arms were pulling him in and Eddie let himself have it, let himself feel small for just a moment. If Steve wasn’t completely disgusted by what he said, then he would at least accept this offering of kindness for now.
They stayed like that for a while, long enough that Eddie started to wonder if he could just live here, right in Steve’s arms.
“It’s looking a little cloudy,” Steve said quietly, hands still rubbing Eddie’s back slowly.
“What?” Eddie still felt a little out of it, but that was entirely out of left field.
“You said we could talk about the weather.”
Eddie snorted. “Oh my God, you’re so-” Eddie looked up at Steve, who was smiling down at him. He felt off-kilter, being the object of that particular Steve look. “Stupid.”
It was fond, probably too fond for someone who needed to protect himself from whatever the hell was happening. He needed to shut this down.
“It’s been mentioned,” Steve’s eyes flickered down to Eddie’s lips, then back up to his eyes. “You good to head out?”
Eddie started to nod, but stopped.
This was his only chance. He wasn’t dumb enough to think he’d ever be alone with Steve again. If he was gonna kick start a spiral over feelings, he might as well go all out.
He stood at his full height, almost eye level with Steve, and leaned in.
The kiss was not even close to perfect. In fact, as far as kisses go, it was probably in the bottom three for Steve. Eddie chose not to think about how he screwed it all up.
But once the initial shock wore off, and Eddie put his teeth away, Steve’s hand cupped Eddie’s cheek and he licked past his lips.
Leave it to Steve to turn this around, make it something worth the risk.
Their lips moved in sync, both of them deepening the kiss without making it too wet, too filthy for a public space.
It was, dare he say, romantic.
Most kisses Eddie had managed to have were dirty and rough, hidden away in dark bars and alleyways, not exactly prime teen romance.
Of course Steve was good at this, of course he made Eddie melt against him, and of course Eddie was going to start writing hearts around Steve’s name in his notebook as if they were high school sweethearts.
When they pulled apart, it took him a minute to open his eyes. How stereotypical.
Steve was already looking at him, softer than he probably deserved.
“You’re pretty good at that,” Eddie breathed out.
“It’s been mentioned.” Steve’s lips turned up in a smirk before he pulled away completely. “Let’s go.”
They walked back through the school, stopping at Eddie’s locker to grab one of his textbooks as if he actually would use it. By now, he didn’t really need the textbooks to get his work done. And he was actually committed to getting it done this time around.
They were quiet as they continued out to the parking lot, only a few cars belonging to teachers left, maybe a few students stuck here for football or basketball practice. Steve’s car was towards the back, but Eddie’s was almost all the way in the grass field by the main road. It was less risky leaving it further away, less likely that anyone would slash the tires or key the side.
“You’re sure you can drive?” Steve asked as they stood outside his car.
“Yeah. Only five minutes to the trailer. It’ll be fine.” Eddie shrugged like it was nothing, but he was actually a little worried the kiss set him too off balance to focus on the road. Fuck the subspace, Steve’s lips were like discovering a new galaxy.
“Can I call you later? To check on you?” Steve seemed hesitant to ask.
“Uh, yeah? Do you…have my number?”
Steve shook his head, opening the door to his car and reaching into the glovebox to find a pen and an old receipt. As Eddie wrote down the number to the trailer, he thought about how much worse this would be tomorrow, how shitty it would be to have had this absolutely out of this world experience with the one person he never thought he could and then be left with scraps for the rest of his life.
“You uh, you don’t have to call, man. Don’t feel pressured. My uncle will be home so it’s not like I’ll be alone.”
Steve took the paper and pen back, folding the paper and putting it in his pocket and throwing the pen back into the car.
“I’m gonna call.” Steve moved a piece of Eddie’s hair from in front of his face. “You got a phone in your room?”
“No, but the one we have reaches to the bathroom?” Why the hell did he need one in his room?
“Good. Need you to be alone.”
“Steve, what the hell does that mean?”
“How else am I supposed to tell you what I wanna do to you?”
Well, fuck.
Day two: ao3 | tumblr
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poisonous-honey · 5 months
Text
Fontaine Is Committing Childe Slander fr
Spoilers For The 4.2 Archon Quest
Content: Sagau reader insert (not the cult au), a lot of swearing
Note: Wrote this a while ago, just didn't post till now. This was written because of how frustrated I was with Childe's treatment in the quest. They did him so, so dirty.
🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 
"WHAT THE FUCK!?"
Hearing your scream, Neuvillette, Aether, and Paimon nearly flinched and gave themselves away if it wasn't for Skirk quickly turning around and staring them dead in their eyes.
"AFTER ALL OF THAT, WE DON'T EVEN GET TO TALK TO HIM? WHAT THE HELL"
They never liked hearing you get upset, but since this was a scripted event, they could do nothing but play their parts. Aether wanted nothing more than to jump in and find Childe for you, if even just to get you to stop yelling, but his hands were tied. And seeing the intense look the lady across from him was giving, he doesn't think he'd be able to get away with it even if he tried.
"No 'hey, how're you doing? What's up? Where the fuck did you go? How did you end up fighting a god-damn space whale? I was worried.' We really get to say none of that? Skirk just throws him away like he's yesterday's trash? At least, I think that's Skirk... Okay, fine, whatever."
The group notices a slight twitch in Skrik's expression, as if she was annoyed, but it's gone not a moment later.
"Skirk I hope you're kinda funny cause this is a terrible first impression."
🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 
Skirk watches as Neuvillette sends the traveller topside, hoping that he starts the scripted conversation without any hassle.
"Was it necessary to throw him so aggressively into the portal?"
Of course, that's not what happened. If Childe's mad ramblings were anything to go by, all of those that become the players "characters" seem to grow inexplicably attached to them. She didn't hold his words in high regard since he was insane, but seeing the hydro sovereign already taking a liking to you gives some weight to his words.
"He’s fine. It’s nothing he can’t handle."
Neuvillette, still looking troubled, tells her that you really wanted to see him again after nearly 2 years of nothing.
"Didn't you also upset the player when you pounced on him and sent him to prison for no good reason?"
Neuvillette gave a slight wince, "I had no other choice. The Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale gave the sentence and the law must be upheld."
Skirk doesn’t look amused, Neuvillette just sighs "... And the action itself was scripted. I had my hands tied."
"Then you have no right to look so troubled over my actions. It was simply scripted, nothing deeper. I would not intentionally go looking to upset the player, especially since they can control whoever they want. I have no desire to go back to the surface, which I would be forced to if they ever felt like messing with me."
He hums, "The player has much less control than you think. Even if they wanted to take control of you, they wouldn't or shouldn't be able to do so for quite a while. Falling into their good graces is the only way to get chosen, and you seem to have only just piqued their interest."
Neuvillette was just stating facts. He heard you crying about how your latest wishing session for Furina took everything you had. He doubts even if Skirk’s banner was a couple patches from now you'd have enough to get her. Skirk herself looks a little frustrated at the mention of gaining your favour, but quickly lets it go. 
"As long as I have time to prepare, I suppose. Anyway, We should have our scripted conversation before time runs out. Unless you want them to start freaking out again."
"Of course not, let us continue."
🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 
"The fuck do you mean he's already in Snezhnaya."
Lyney's eyes slightly widen in shock, not expecting that visceral of a reaction. Aether slightly shakes his head to try and get him not to worry about it while Paimon starts her bashful idle as a way to look elsewhere without arising suspicion.
"We don't even get to say goodbye, what the heck. Wait, we never even figured out what was going on with his vision either. They actually just threw him to the wayside! If he doesn't show up in the next interlude, I'm going to be ☆mad☆"
Aether tilts his head down as he starts to ponder. He was also a bit frustrated with how little they learned about what was going on with him. Obviously the whal- Narwhal was involved in someway, but nothing is explained outside their connection. He's suddenly ripped from his thoughts as you pick his next dialogue option and continue the story.
The story continues for a little bit as Arlecchino arrives to join the conversation. You add in some quips of your own as you're watching, but are mostly silent. They just take it as you being tired from the whirlwind of emotions the quest put you through.
Aether then realizes the next actions he has to take and struggles to keep a straight face.
*Actually, I just remembered something... Please help us deliver this.*
"I swear to god, don't give her Childe's vision. He hates her. He trusted us."
Aether can no longer hold back his wince as he holds out Childe's vision for Arlecchino to take. She almost looks amused as they hear you sigh.
"Goddammit."
🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 
Childe was in agony.
This pain went far beyond his physical injuries. The last words he heard from you were you crying out to him. It frustrated him to no end that by the time he gets to see you again, he passes out. He can barely remember your words of praise and cooing about how cool he was for fighting such a creature. Your worry and the fact he doesn't even get to talk to you after all this time hasn't left the forefront of his mind since he woke up. Injuries be damned, he wanted to find the Traveller. He wanted to get something out of that vacation, more than just one conversation, getting arrested, and an incomplete fight. He thought that as long as you still had his vision, he would surely see you again and his vacation would end smoothly, but of course the story seemed to have it out for him. All he could do now was lay here in pain, stuck in his mind while his family is off doing something else.
He's upset he didn't get to finish his fight and that you had to finish it for him.
He's upset his foul legacy has taken such a toll on his body, he can't do anything.
He's upset that his family has to see him in such a state.
He's upset he missed your first encounter with Skirk.
He's upset he didn't even get to talk to you again.
And more than anything, he's upset he can't be there for you.
As he was about to continue wallowing in self-pity and regret, he suddenly finds himself fully geared, standing in front of the Abyss, with no injuries.
"Such bullshit. I loved the story quest, but why was Childe pushed to the side. It's almost like they had no idea what to do with him after they got him to the whale. Oh! It's just one of the creatures he's been wanting to fight for nearly all his life. Do we get to know how he feels about it? Nooo of course not. My man just wanted to go on vacation, and he had to deal with all of this."
Hearing your voice almost washes away all his stress, and hearing you complain about how he was treated washes away all his sorrow. It pleases him to know you hated what happened to him just as much, if not more, than he did. He could tell from your ranting and the fact you've already gotten 36 stars that you were going to fight just to let off steam. That's perfect for him. Killing something is just what he needs to take his mind off of recent events, killing things with and for you makes it even better. He'll be sure to make the best of this before you log off for the day, and he's back to being bedridden.
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baby-dr1ver · 9 months
Text
kinktober <3
phone sex
Oscar x reader
warning: masturbation, swearing
You had just walked in your shared apartment when your phone rang. You saw Oscars name pop up and you thought, how odd. It’s practically midnight in Qatar while it’s mid afternoon where you were. 
“Osc? Is everything alright?” You asked as you set your things down and tried to focus on the conversation. It was quiet for a minute, then you could hear Oscar breathing heavily. “H-hey yeah, I’m alright just..frustrated from the results today.”
You smiled as you heard his accent in certain words he said. “I know baby, I’m so sorry they did that to you. Mid interview too? Brutal. How are you though?” 
Oscar barely heard your question, to busy stroking his cock softly, whining queitly. “Ozzy? You don’t sound very good, are you okay?” He lifted up his shirt so he could see his torso and pants down to his knees, like you would. “Yeah love I’m alright just uhm, keep talking. I missed your voice.” 
You made a confused face behind the phone. Oscar isn’t usually a feelings kind of person, he showed affection quietly, always level headed, and rarely did he ever call you just to hear you talk. “Uhm yeah okay sure..” You launched into everything you did, the mall, the grocery store. All the things you got for him today, every small detail mattered.
Meanwhile, Oscar was trying to hold in every sound that wanted to escape. His big hand moved up and down slowly amongst his shaft, his thumb coming around to gently circle the head. His hips stuttered as he thought about your hands instead of his. How you’d praise him, tell him how good he looked, or how hard she made him. You’d also already have your mouth on him, licking a long stripe up his cock, sucking on the head, using your hands-
“Osc? You almost finished, or should I keep going?” 
He paused his hand, “W-what? I uhm what do you mean?” You giggled and he swore he almost came just from that. 
“Baby, you aren’t exactly subtle. I can hear your hand stroking yourself, and you aren’t doing much to conceal those adorable whimpers. Go ahead, keep going.”
He moaned and moved his hand a little faster. He could only hear some shuffling on the other end, “Y/N?” 
“Yeah baby? Sorry, I was just getting out of my clothes, can’t just let you have fun can I?”
“No right, absolutely, whatever you want love.” He couldn’t help but close his eyes and imagine you alone in bed, naked, fingers running over your body. “Tell me what to do Ozzy, guide me through it.” oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. You could not be saying things like that to him right now, in that low whisper and whiny voice that gets him going. 
“Run your hands down your chest, give those gorgeous tits a squeeze ah fuck-rub your nipple for me baby.” He listened closely to the small sounds you made, knowing exactly what you were doing by the pitch change of your moans. “That’s it, atta girl. Now take your hand and touch your pussy-just a finger, feel how wet you are. God I bet your soaking huh sweetheart?” He needed to slow down, take a deep breath so he doesn’t blow his lid. 
“Yeah Osc, fucking wet. Soaking my fingers-just for you, only you” His heart almost stopped. 
The way you spoke, the moans, the whines, he missed it all. He could almost smell you, feel you around his fingers, even a continent away. 
“Yeah? Couldn’t take it anymore huh love? Just needed a reason to touch yourself. Fuck I wish I was there, I miss your pussy, the smell the taste, everything.” He could hear you fucking yourself. He could hear your fingers plunging in and out of you. He could hear your hips moving along the bed, the neediness of it all. “Ozzy, baby, please come with me oh god please.” 
“Y-yeah, I’m here, I’m right there with you.” he squeezed himself tighter as he stroked himself a little faster. Listening to your moans and gasps of his name, he came. Not a second later he heard you still, and your hips drop back down to the bed. 
No one said anything for awhile, just heavy panting as you both came down. 
Just as he started to drift off, “Oscar?”
“Mmm yeah?”
You giggled and pulled the blankets over your naked body, “I love you but next time just tell me you need to get off.” 
He smiled, “yeah alright, seems fair.”
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netherfeildren · 3 months
Text
How to Endure Ardor:
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Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: Joel teaches you how to love him.
Rating: Explicit 18+
Content Warnings: Post outbreak; QZ Joel Miller; I'm saying this, but the setting is sort of ambiguous anyways, Stream of consciousness, Character Study, Alternating POVs; PIV sex; The troubles and toils of breaking up and then making up with a fucked up old man; Uncaring Joel; Mentions of painful sex; Toxic relationships or situationships or whatever you want to call it; I think I'm addicted to the idea of a Joel who'll never love you and I should probably see a doctor about it
A/N: she remembers how to write, who'd of thought!
Word Count: 1.3K
Read on AO3
This is a lesson:
“Tell me again,” she says, and it’s a begging.
A begging like what? Something that carries shame and smallness in the shape of it. Stay a little longer. It humiliates him for the wretchedness it pulls from him. Joel, please. Seeping blood the color of her supplication. Please, she says, please. And who else says please to him anymore? Who asks him for anything anymore but her? The only ones who ever had are long past and gone, and he can’t even barely remember they were ever really there to ask anything of him to begin with—can’t remember what it feels like to owe someone something and want to give it to them in a way that will actually make him. 
Tell me what again? That I want you? That I’ll stay? That I love you? I’ll come back, he says instead, the only thing he can promise and keep. And he wonders if it humiliates her too, the way he lies, the way he runs, the way he swears, the way he always comes back and comes back but never returns with the things she needs. A humiliation just like it is a begging. 
The thing they have: it’s strange, fickle, honest in its lies, very, very ugly. An ugliness that is shocking in a world gone to rot already. The sky doesn’t shine anymore and they bask in it. 
But also, and, the thing they have: it’s physical, saving.
This is obvious too, even if only to them.
He slides inside and you’re what? Hot and wet and slick, and—yes, a thing like a dream, but still only a thing. Something to have, something close to desire, but not quite, more like biological want. Woman turned possession. In his mind this is an excuse, a reason, a begetting. Like, what—like what? Like when you want a thing very badly but it is very bad for you, and you need to make up any excuse to have it, lie and lie and lie—to your mother, your best friend, the mirror—a begetting like that. Easy to understand only if you’ve been there. 
It started simple, it started like nothing, it started like the first time you meet someone and you know they’ll matter, you know they’ll mean something. So it started like what? Like a lie. 
Shifts at the QZ, long and toiling and reminders of the sort of life that died in an outbreak of monsters, only if for how unlike that past it was. Humans or fungus or—
—men who hurt—you, men who refuse your love, Joel Miller.
The crutch of your age, of you being weaker or smaller or in need, him being easily felled, wooed, easily conquered by something young and given without a try because there was never the opportunity for trying before. 
Now, it is like this: you take my cock and you take my come and you take my nothing, and I give so little and yet you still find a way to take and take and take, leech of a girl, dream of a girl, hungry. And with the excuse that it’s only in a way you contrive for your own self. But in the end, what does that make you? What do I make you into? 
These are the things he asks himself. 
Perhaps she goes away for a time, tries the route of escape, of variety. But when she inevitably comes back because addiction is riddled always in the same sorts of ways: did you try different bodies? Did you try different flavors and sounds? Did you look for me in all of them? 
The answer is usually yes.
At reunion’s turn: he rolls her over to face her, Joel, damp and panting and trying to be something—perhaps better, more honest—after a season of variety and honest attempts and shut eyes. He’s so hard for her, always is. 
Again: he slides inside and you’re what? His, undeniably. Not yours. Something to want but not desire because it’s too romantic a notion, and yes, there’s a difference even if he can’t put into words what that difference specifically is. Body and heart, perhaps, definitions that differ between disparate anatomical parts or levels of deniability. 
Nothing either of you have ever been able to put into words when lust and love aren’t things you can even say out loud for the shame of them, even if they exist within said same anatomy. 
You come together, the season passed, the separation passed but still kept at hand for the next time the closeness becomes too much. 
“Tell me again,” she says, and this time he remembers what she’s asking for.
“I fucking missed you, baby. Missed this pussy.” Because he can’t say it’s her heart he missed. Because Joel Miller does not have honesty in his arsenal. 
He spreads you wide, knee to shoulder so it hurts and pulls, so it’ll be sore and reminding tomorrow. The slap of his pelvis against the back of your thighs is obscene, wet and lewd, a string of girl cum keeping you connected, such togetherness, curve of your ass to the root of his cock—the two of you are together again. 
You know what I thought, when I tried to go away, you say. He doesn’t want to know, but he doesn't tell you so either, only slides in again, the mouth of your womb right there, threatening. I’m never going to feel like this again, and I hate how certainly I know that. He wonders if the unsaid part is that he’s the recipient of that feeling, the hate. 
He wonders if the pinch inside him is hurt. He wonders if the throb is love. 
All he says because he can’t say the rest is, I missed you, I missed you, and if he could look himself in the mirror—something that’s twenty years past lost—he’d ask: are you alright? Just tell me you’re okay. And it sounds in your own voice and with your own care and the feel of your own warmth. Is there anything I can do?
Other times, he sees himself through your own eyes, and then he knows for certain that the throb is love 
So he makes up for lost time, hard—and if it was a thing he knew how to be— loving. Mouth to cunt first, primed and soft and begging, making you come again and then another once more, then inside of you. Slow, splitting you open, red cunt like a wound, balls slapping wet, pulling out to watch the gape of the space he’s carved for himself. His cock is so hard and missing you something desperate. And he’s reminded of what it is to really miss something in a way he hadn’t been in twenty years of apocalypse, he’s forced to realized that it’s been so long since he’d had something to love that he’d not realized the feeling of missing that long past someone had gone away, only faint memory remained. 
Violent, is what this makes him after that realization—thrusts turning hard and punishing. How dare you give yourself to me? How dare you then take yourself away? You come around him again, the gift of your orgasm. How dare you not be able to accept the little I’m able to give when I’m trying so desperately fucking hard to give you even just this? 
He fucks you mean, he fucks you in the way of a man who doesnt know how to say the things he needs to say, in a way that’s confusing, that could make a less discerning woman feel only the hurt. 
But then again, you know him.
Fucks you in a way that is a little bit like love.
And so, amidst all of it, there is an honesty amongst the lies. A truth unspoken that they both know—I’ll come back because I need you, because you’re the only one who can give me the things I'm not strong enough to ask for out loud. 
You’re not sure which of the two of you is the one saying it.
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girlokwhatever · 2 months
Note
HEY! I saw ur writers block post & i’ve been WAITING for someone to do a kate martin x fem reader fic based off of Uh Oh by Tate McRae!
PLEASE MAKE MY DREAMS COME TRUE
i’m a genie in a bottle bby 😜
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༝༚༘ ೀ⋆。 ˚୧⋆。🕯. -ʚɞ uh oh!,,
kate martin x fem!reader
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you were swaying your body to the beat of whatever song they were playing at the club. you’d been dancing with his guy for a little while, your way of saying ‘thanks’ after he bought you a couple of drinks.
you could feel kate’s eyes watching your every move. your body grew hot under her gaze and it only encouraged you to keep going, knowing the affect it would have on her. you finally gave into her, allowing your eyes to wander and meet hers in an intense and highly intimate stare.
kate excuses herself, walking to the bathroom hoping knowing you’d follow. she knows you too well, probably from the numerous other nights you’ve been in this situation, because you do follow. forgetting about the guy, you push through sweaty bodies to get to her. before you step into the bathroom after her, you consider your actions.
fuck it.
you push through the door and she’s already waiting for you, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. the door locks behind you as you step closer to her, letting your attraction and lust for the woman in front of you control your actions. the feeling of her hands on you is too intoxicating; you can hardly remember the moments leading up to this.
“want you so bad,”
she’s whispering in your ear about how amazing you look, palming at your tits and tugging your shirt off. you can’t feel anything but her, just her.
her heavy breaths hitting your skin, her warm hands pulling your clothes off, her lips on yours, tongue on your body. your whole body was on fire, slowly slipping back into this cycle with her that you said you wouldn’t.
uh oh.
last night after leaving the club kate dropped you back off at your dorm. she tried telling herself that she wouldn’t give into you, but she did. and she knew she would again.
you woke up to a text from kate, deciding to ignore it and move on with your day. you definitely drank too much last night, feeling the effects of it on you as you walk to class.
kate texted you a few more times during class, even calling once. when she called you again after class your resistance was beginning to wane. every second you spent with kate was satisfactory for you, but you couldn’t let something that started out as a one-night stand take over your life.
you kept telling yourself it wouldn’t happen again.
a few days later kate showed up to your dorm, knocking until you answered.
“kate? what are you doing here?”
she doesn’t answer with words, surging forward to connect your lips with her own. it was needy and hot, everything moving so fast paced as she closes your door with her foot.
“jump.” and you do as she says, adding fuel to the fire that keeps your flame burning. you can’t focus on anything but her and how she tastes against your tongue. your head spins when she drops you down on your bed like she owns this space, and in a way she does.
“kate-” you’re trying to be reasonable, trying to keep the few day streak of not giving in alive.
“just let me have this please. let me have you.”
and you let her. you’re doing it again.
uh oh.
she left that night when you were sleeping, leaving a note thanking you for a ‘good time.’ after reading it through you made a promise to yourself that it was the last time.
when you saw her a few weeks later you knew you’d end up breaking your promise. she looked too good, hair in a bun and legs clad in cargos. she saw you too, instantly feeling drawn to your half of the floor. she didn’t hesitate to find you immediately, noting that the both of you were a little too drunk for your own good.
“wanna dance?”
you scoff at her and she’s playfully rolling her eyes, pulling you to the middle of the party dance floor anyway. you don’t resist, letting her hands guide you where she wants you like you do every time.
you’d been doing so good at avoiding her, but now that she’s here all your efforts slip away. even though all your hard work is in the drain, you make the realization that you don’t care much.
“just have fun.” and you do.
her hands find solace on your hips, pulling you against her as your body moves to the rhythm of the music. kate loves the way you feel against her, deep down knowing she doesn’t ever want to have to live without it.
both of your friends know of your infatuations for each other, noting every time both of you happened to disappear at the same time. that’s why when kate pulled you out of the back door of the bar they didn’t question where she’d gone.
“wanna go to my place?” she asks you, breathless from making out with you after pushing you against the brick wall of the building.
“i need to go back to my place kate..”
your hands hold the sides of her face and she knows you’re lying when you pull her back in for another kiss. you really can’t help yourself when it comes to her, allowing her to take you back to her dorm. you’d say yes to anything to asks you and you’re not sure if that’s the alcohol or just you. it doesn’t really matter to you.
you walk through her door, remembering this place from a few months ago. she’s behind you, trailing hands up your shirt as she kisses from behind your ear down to your shoulder. she wishes she could crawl under your skin, fearing that moments like these will never end her desire to have you.
before you know it, you’re naked on her couch. her tongue pushes in and out of your leaking cunt and you’re crying out her name, hoping no one can hear you. kate’s thumb circles your clit and you feel your whole body pulsate, jumbling your words while trying to tell her you’re ’gonna cum.’
she takes everything you give her, licking every inch of your skin until you’re raw. kate thinks to herself about how pretty you are spread open for her and it makes her want to ask you to stay.
she doesn’t say anything though, just pulling your clothes back on for you and laying your body on top of hers. you might leave when you come to your senses and she knows that. she knows you’ll both tell yourselves it won’t happen again, but it always does.
neither of you mind much.
uh oh.
⚘‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾⭒❃.✮:▹♥*♡∞:。.。
hey girly pops i’m kinda proud of this..
i hope whoever requested it really likes it!!! 😘
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starryschoolgirl · 8 months
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Good Husbandry
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Summary -> While you view preparing for your honeymoon as finding all the hottest destinations in Honolulu for tourists, Elvis knows that he must help you, his soon-to-be virgin bride, understand all that comes with the honeymoon. What a good man he is, to give you a little hands-on lesson on what good husbandry is.
Warnings -> Lovely domestic things, innocence/purity kink, religious undertones, smut, just the tip trope, hinted breeding kink, swearing, Elvis gets a little rough, mention of RFK's assassination, the reader is overbearingly sheltered when it comes to topics like sex, cum eating, fantasies of "ruining" a girl's vagina, there's definitely some plot here I won't lie, loved writing this a little too much.
WC -> 7.3k
A/N -> This is an installation of the Baby Love AU. Find Masterlist Here!
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The past few days had been a whirlwind of emotion for everyone. Elvis was doing press conferences for the NBC special he was about to start filming for, and while you usually go with him, with the recent assassination of Robert F. Kennedy, it was decided unanimously that it would be best if you were at home.
Elvis would have liked to keep you by his side, but given your family’s public connection to the Kennedys he knew that the press might behave in an uncalled for manner toward you.
It was also to be noted that he’d been very patient with you the entire week, after all you did know the man. He was a close family friend, a lot closer to your father, mother, and older brother than you. But there were still tears shed a few nights ago when it had occurred.
Most of that week you sat around the current California home, keeping the couch company like you were the prettiest of pillows as you spent most of your time on the telephone with your hysterical mother and being soothed by your childhood nanny who now watched your younger brother. You’d decided to write a letter to Ethel, she was no doubt being bombarded with phone calls from press and other family with the recent death of her husband. 
It was a rough way to start the month, it was only 6 days into June when something as tragic as that had occurred. 
You were certain things would change in regards to the guest list of your wedding just a little over a week away, for one you could understandably count on the possible absence of Ethel Kennedy and her children. Aside from her it wasn’t Elvis’ side you were worried about, because when Elvis says jump they all say “how high?”. It was your own side that worried you.
You knew it was selfish and stupid to be thinking of that at a time like this, those poor Kennedys have been through so much. But you couldn’t help the worrisome thoughts that lingered in your mind. Your parents already didn’t approve of Elvis all that much, with the influx of emotion that this event caused they might just cancel all together and then you’ll be left without anyone from your own family.
And that alone could cause an emotional storm to brew in Elvis. He always expressed his own disdain for your family, but you knew there was guilt deep down that he felt. And if he realized that he were the reason your wedding day went without family, he would be angry with you and himself. But that was only because he felt things very deeply, he was caring in that way.
So you made sure the past few days to get in as much reading as possible, so that even if your wedding doesn’t end up being the dream you hoped for, that your knowledge of your honeymoon destination would make up for it.
It had to be perfect. You had to be perfect.
"We better get up and get changed soon..."
You hummed absently at Elvis' words as your eyes continued to skim along the page.
"Wouldn't want the rest of the boys seein' ya in ya nightie"
You hummed once more at whatever he had said, much too focused on your book to pay much mind. Elvis noticed this and laughed softly as he asked,
"What are ya readin' Honey?"
You looked up from the book that you had been enthralled in for the past half-hour to see Elvis staring at you over one of his religious books, he had a crooked smile and a quirked eyebrow, his facial expression likely from the fact that you were actually reading a book.
You smiled cheekily and crawled closer to him on the bed, resting your cheek on his shoulder as you quickly card your floral bookmark in between the pages you were on before closing it and presenting it to Elvis, your fiancé.
"It's a book all about Hawaii, it has some of the best secret locations on all the islands, including Oahu"
You smiled up at him as his eyes scrolled to look over at you then at the book, a smirk playing on his lips as he did so. He set his book down on his lap to grab yours, one of his fingers tracing over the cover as he murmured honestly,
"Well Babylove, I don't think these locations are all too secret anymore considerin' the book is 7 years old"
You hummed softly at the statement. Truthfully you only picked the book off the shelf because one, it said Hawaii which is the place you and Elvis were planning to be your honeymoon destination, and secondly, it was pink.
Elvis shook his head fondly and brought a hand up to ruffle your hair, thankfully at the moment there were no rings on his fingers to pluck and pull at the strands of your hair. With that in mind you happily leaned into the touch like a cat getting its fix from its owner.
You roll your body closer, dragging one leg over Elvis' legs as if he were one of those long body pillows. You snuggled your face into his chest, feeling the silky fabric of his short ascot scarf. He'd recently begun wearing them often, you didn't mind it because you could tug him by his scarf whenever you wanted a kiss.
Your voice was soft and murmured into the fabric, "I wanna start our marriage off right, our honeymoon has to be perfect, and this book,”
You pull back for a moment to grab the book and open it to the first page. Elvis watches with an amused smile as your dainty little finger flies across the dust-colored pages to the sentence that you read aloud,
"These spots will guarantee a sweet time with that special someone"
Elvis’ voice is laced with harmless sarcasm (that you don’t quite catch) as he says,
“Oh well if the book says so, it has to be true”
You then excitedly close the book and show Elvis the back cover, where a quote from what must've been a review was laid out in bold, "Has the hottest places for America’s hottest honeymoon destination"
Elvis laughed softly. His arm wraps around your shoulder as his hand runs up and down your back, calluses grazing the delicate fabric of your satin nightie with a scratching sound before taking its rest on the curve of your ass. He explains, "Well little one, there's a bit more to honeymoons and marriage than that"
Your eyebrow quirks in the way you learned from watching Elvis' own eyebrow within the span of your relationship. It looked as if you were suspicious of Elvis, thinking he was trying to pull the wool over your eyes.
With a gentle hand Elvis removed the book from your hand and set it on the nightstand where he then set his own book on as well. You laughed softly as Elvis’ hands pulled you into your place, till you straddled his lap innocently for him to explain something,
“Well Babylove, a big part of marriage and honeymoonin’ is good husbandry.”
You go silent for a second, thinking to yourself as your fingers trace little shapes on Elvis’ chest absentmindedly. When you come to the conclusion that you’re clueless on the subject you ask,
“What’s husbandry?”
Elvis’ hands run along your sides, running up to your ribs, down to your hips, then repeating their cycle, it was in his own absentmindedness that he did it as he explained,
“Well, husbandry is kind of cultivatin’ and makin’ use of land, sorta like plantin’ a seed and takin’ care of it.”
“Like farmers do?”
“Very good girl, like farmers do. Now ya see, that comes into play within things like marriage and honeymoons. To be a farmer, the first thing ya gotta do is plant a seed, then ya get your farm goin’ and everythin’ is just dandy as long as you keep takin’ care of that seed.”
You nodded your head along to what he was saying, it made sense. But what did that have to do with your honeymoon?
“Just as that goes, to be a husband, you also gotta plant a seed. So ya see, in marriage, instead of a farmer plantin’ a seed, it’s the husband who plants the seed, and he plants it right in your petals”
You grimaced with embarrassment as you heard Elvis mention your “petals”. Such talk was still very new to you. Having been raised by the church most of your life, and having only attended catholic private schools, you’d been taught that such talk was deplorable and vulgar. 
Elvis seemed to be trying to undo all their teaching as he was very free and open with topics such as that one.
He could see the way your face began to dust a precious pink along your cheeks as you stared down at your hands scrunching up his shirt’s fabric within them. He couldn’t help but adore his sweet girl and lift your chin to take in the entirety of your innocence, the privilege of being innocent and naive having been fed to you with a silver spoon since you were a baby with your family’s fortune.
Your education didn’t span too far, it was done under the assumption that you’d be protected from the roughness of the world, the riff-raff. And though Elvis was a fair match monetarily-wise to your parents and the people you were raised around,with enough money to keep you as far away from the world’s roughness as possible, he was still considered to be in that riff-raff crowd.
Oh, what a shame for your family and the rest of your upper-class culture to have a rare purity, like you whisked away from your family made up of good breeding and a pure bloodline by a man like Elvis who would screw it all up when he one day planted his seed into your womb, making your once purebred French bloodline his own as he mixed himself into the history of your DNA to make a child that you will carry for months.
A child you will love to no end while your ancestors roll over in their graves.
Just the thought of it all made Elvis giddy.
His smile is cheeky as he grabs one of your nervous hands to soothe you while also keeping a grip on your chin with his other hand, his voice is breathy from speaking through a laugh,
“Now don’t let me lose ya, still got some splainin’ to do”
You can’t help but continue to duck your head away into your shoulder to hide your embarrassment, till Elvis pulls you out of it with his sweet little nickname for you,
“C’mon now Bubbles, need ya to keep listenin’ f’me”
You look up to meet those dark blues of Elvis’ that pierce with a strange softness.
“To seal the marriage a man plants his seed in a woman, and from then on he has to take care of that woman, that’s good husbandry. That’s part of what happens on a honeymoon. Understand?”
You nod slowly, and mumble a soft, “I understand”, before laying yourself down on Elvis, making yourself comfortable as you lay your head against his chest, your arms wrapping around his torso, somehow squeezing their way between Elvis' frame and the mattress.
Marriage seemed scary. Ever since you had gotten engaged to Elvis you felt a different weight begin to fall on your shoulders. And though you were excited to marry Elvis, you couldn’t help but remember how your mother described marriage to be with your father.
As Elvis dragged his hands along your body tracing every poke of a bone through your skin he closed his eyes, showing his affection through the action, you thought back to how marriage was represented to you as a little girl.
There were nights when your father stayed late for work that you’d sit on the floor between your mother's legs as she sat on the sofa, by then she would be nursing her 4th glass of wine that night, and let her braid your hair before bed.
You’d whimper softly as her diamond-littered gaudy engagement ring, which was comparable to the one you now owned, would catch on some strands of your hair. But you wouldn’t voice any complaint as she was too busy voicing her own, complaining to an 8-year-old you about your father’s “wandering eye”, how he loves work more than he loves his family, and that he can’t even function without a pill, in what sense she meant “function” you’d never know, because you only saw your father as a personal superhero. The man who would bring gifts like Santa, the man who would read you to bed on the rare nights he could, the man who held the whole world in his hand every time he held you.
You didn’t recognize the man your mother would drunkenly describe. And soon after you wouldn’t recognize your own mother as she would break into tears and talk about how it’s her fault, and that she knows it all falls on her to make the marriage work, she just needs to try harder.
You’d caress her knee and try to soothe the adult, “It’s okay Mommy”, while mustering up the courage to promise her that, “It’ll be okay”
And then at the end of the night, she would turn you around and slur with as much affection as she could muster,
“Always tend to your husband Sweetie, don’t make a prude of yourself like me, don’t make a nagging wife, be pleasant and pliant and you’ll be a happy wife”
Of course you weren’t married yet, and that might’ve been what was causing you to be such a worrywart, because you were scared of the unknown. That’s why you’ve been trying your best to find ways to start the marriage off in the best way possible.
But you now had a whole other thing to worry about perfecting, husbandry. 
It would all work out though, as long as you heed your mother’s words and be a pleasant, pliant wife, you’ll be just fine, and you’re confident that Elvis would never turn out to be the kind of husband that your mother described your father to be.
You mumbled into the fabric of Elvis’ shirt,
“How does a man plant his seed in a woman?”
Elvis’ hands came to a halt at your words. He thought he’d gone over this kind of thing with you before, then again there was never much need to. You never prodded for more than you were given, because you were simply unaware there was more you could get out of the pleasures of your body.
Elvis stared down at the top of your head as you kept your cheek resting on his chest, he realized how abstract your thoughts must’ve been compared to his within your relationship. He had spent countless nights holding himself back from making you his completely, there were so many times he easily could’ve done so. So many times you put yourself in the position to be vulnerable to the disgusting thought of a man who knew the pleasures you could give.
Had Elvis been a different man he would’ve done so by now, taken you shamelessly and left you crumpled on the floor next to your crumpled up clothes.
But he’d be reigned back by the thought that God wouldn’t make something like you, something so pure and holy, for sin. Had Elvis not been a god-fearing man he would’ve had his way with you.
All those nights he spent eating you out, listening to you finally break that voice box of yours in, the only thing he’d thought about was how much louder you would be when he could finally fuck you, meanwhile you thought that the sensation guided by Elvis’ tongue that momentarily blinded you was as good as it got, was as close as you’d get to God.
Oh Elvis could show you so much more, teach you so much more, touch you so much more. And as shameful as it is, he’d be a liar if he said that the fact that he wanted to be the one deflower you didn’t play a role in your engagement.
“I could show ya how it’s done Honey, would ya be alright with that? It’s a little different from anything we’ve ever done”
You sat up on his lap and nodded as you kept a hand to support yourself up on his stomach. He basked in the sight of you with a small smile, digging his hands through your hair like roots in the dirt, so deep and entangled it could be hard to tell where your hair began and his hands ended.
It wasn’t at all painful in the way your mother’s hands used to rest in your hair during her drunken stupor.
It was gentle as Elvis always was.
He used a gentle force to pull you close enough for him to press a kiss to your forehead for a moment and hold it there, you closed your eyes and let out a breath, any stiff stress in your body leaving at the touch of Elvis’ lips.
He pulled away, lips and hands.
“Lay down Baby”
Elvis patted your side of the bed and you quickly laid down as you usually would, and with a quick fwip of his hips Elvis’ knees rested just outside your thighs, his entire body hovering above yours as he reached over to your nightstand.
You heard the clink of glass, no doubt the two glass figurines you’d had since you were a child, your voice was soft but panicked as you felt a pang of protectiveness over your childhood trinkets.
“W-What are you doing?”
His response was immediate as he knew your sentimental feelings toward your figurines,
“It’s alright Honey, jus’ turnin’ Dottie and Lottie around”
“Oh.”
You let out a sigh of relief before having a blush spread like a wildfire in the summer across your cheeks. When Elvis had first touched you, you felt the need to turn your glass figurines Dolores and Charlotte, also known as Dottie and Lottie, around before he could continue any further. When he asked you why you could only mumble a quiet explanation about wanting to preserve their innocence. Elvis didn’t mind the strange gesture, he thought it was rather cute actually, it was something so girlish and sweet, something he’d never think of, it further instituted that you really were an endearing little girl.
And ever since then anytime Elvis touched you, he’d always turn your figurines toward the wall for you. And him doing it now meant that to plant his seed in you, he had to touch you.
You close your eyes as you relax into the mattress completely, and feel a shift in the bed then the cold air began to linger up your nightie, or rather Elvis made your nightie linger up your skin, giving way for him to view the cutely contrasting color of your pastel yellow panties to your pastel blue short satin nightie.
As the bed shifted a little more you allowed Elvis to part your legs so he could slide off the piece of fabric, his hands caressing the skin of your ankles a few seconds longer than the rest of your leg, and then he intricately removed your panties off your feet he laid them on the outside of your thigh, within arm's length.
You assumed what you’d be feeling next was what you always felt whenever he touched you, those calloused fingers of his walking their way up your thighs as he made himself comfortable right between the two limbs, his mouth and nose inches away from that bundle of nerves that he so lovingly explained was the bud of your little rose. 
His fingers would then drift down to what he called the petals of your rose, separating them gently, exposing your hole to the cold air of the room making you shiver like the scared little girl you were as he did so. But he liked it, liked how visceral all your reactions were from your inexperience.
Only this time, you’d been wrong as you heard the familiar shink of his belt, and as if you were a trained dog and his belt were a clicker, your eyes shot open as you knew what that sound meant. It meant you got to do the touching, but, why were your panties off if you were doing the touching?
As you sat up you saw Elvis shucking his pants and boxers down, you watched with a blush as you saw his dick, it wasn’t yet completely hard, it more so at half-staff if anything, with that it maintained enough loose skin so that the usual image of his veins bulging profusely through the thin skin was not a sight you’d yet see, but you could change that.
As you sat up with your legs still spread enough so that Elvis once he was free of his pants was able to swiftly kneel between them. You leaned forward with an eager hand but Elvis had caught your wrist before you’d made it to your target, you batted your eyelashes up at him in confusion.
“Elvis?”
He had a crooked smile on his lips and asked, “Don’t ya remember what ya gotta do first? C’mon Hon we’ve been over this a dozen times”. You had to think for a moment but felt flushed with embarrassment at your own mistake.
Elvis’ eyebrow ticked upward as he caught your realization, then he slowly raised your hand up to your mouth for you to lick a stripe along it. When he didn’t immediately pull away you knew to keep lapping at the skin till Elvis saw it suitable.
His head tilted down a little as he made eye-contact with you through the cracks of your fingers, staring at you as you licked lines of wet along the lines of your palm, he was mumbling a praise or too like “There ya go”, and “Just like that”. You only shut your mouth as his free hand came up to cup your cheek and gently push you back from your hand.
With your newfound view of his cock it definitely looked less limp than before but Elvis had taught you how to get it standing, and you wanted to show him that you could. He’d been loosening the reins lately and had been giving you more independence to touch him in the way you knew he liked. But at the perfect moments he’d step in and be a helping hand, wrapping his much larger hand around yours as he showed you what kind of pace he liked when his dick twitched a specific way.
It was him helping you build this muscle memory that was slowly etching its way into your brain, on the walls of your skull, and in the nerves of your hand
With the softest of groans leaving Elvis’ mouth your eyes shot up from his cock that maintained the attention of your palm, wanting to see his face, see the preview of your own triumph as you continued to stroke with the pace his hand guided yours along.
His smile was gone as his mouth twisted slightly to let out the low noise, he licked his lips quickly and tightened his hold on your hand, in turn tightening your hold on his cock as he ran your palm up and down it, your voice was hesitant and soft as you questioned, “L-Like that Elvis? I do it like that…”
He hummed an affirmation and mumbled, “Keep at it”, before pulling his hand off yours, leaning back on the bed on his palms while watching you with lowered lids, had they been any lower they would’ve been closed.
You tried shuffling yourself closer by planting your heels into the mattress and scooting yourself closer, but it was hard to focus on both things. You didn’t want to louse up what a good job you were doing, but you felt you could do better if you were just a little closer.
Elvis must’ve read your inner turmoil as he leaned off his palms and cupped the back of your knees with each hand, pulling you closer at the top of your calves where they connected with your thighs. As you continued with your strokes you noticed how close you now were, your bare pussy had never been so close to Elvis’ cock.
With the realization a strange curiosity shot through you, a kind of curiosity that had filled your senses one of the first times you’d sat on Elvis’s lap. He kept you on one knee easily, and it had been the leg that he often bounced absentmindedly, and as he easily bounced you on his leg you felt a weird sensation, and that damned curiosity of yours got the best of you subtly shifted on his leg, and suddenly the jumbling of your legs on his knee had shifted to a jumbling on a small bundle of nerves between your legs.
No you wouldn’t let your curiosity get the best of you again, you wouldn’t.
As Elvis pulled his hands away from your legs he leaned back on one palm and the other he reached forward to rub that very bundle of nerves you’d just been thinking of about. Just the slightest bit of force made your body react with what could be described as a convulsion as you breathed out a noise of surprise.
Elvis’ almost dazed look on his face didn’t shift as he glided his calloused thumb down between your folds, scooping up whatever was beginning to wet them, then using it as a lubricant to give your clit a good rub down, his facial expression unwavering as he watched you twitch and struggle to focus on doing a good job.
His voice was low and almost sounded slurred as he mumbled,
“Now this is hard ain’t it Honey? Tryin’ to pleasure each other at the same time?”
Your face shrunk and your lip quivered as you tried to maintain that you wouldn’t break under the sensations of it all, wanting to do good.
Upon gaining no answer Elvis’ eyes glazed up to meet yours, they now shifted to sympathy as he reassured you gently with little circles of his thumb around your bud,
“It’s alright Baby, I know it. I know it’s hard, that’s why through marriage a man can plant his seed in a woman, makes it easier y’know? A man can help you while he helps himself, ya shouldn’t have t’be doin’ work Honey”
You don’t know when you started nodding along to his words, you hardly understood them, but the way his eyebrows arched, the way his lips curled, the way his voice drew out, he seemed like he knew everything in the world. He was so in his element that you wouldn’t question it if he told you a cat were a dog.
But you had to ask, through your soft pants and whimpers, “H-how?” How was it possible to both be pleasured at the same time? How was it possible for both of you to reach that special spot just between the earth and the heavens where all felt impossibly right?
Elvis’ lips grew to a smirk once more as he removed his thumb from your clit and his hand wrapped around yours to pull you away. As you looked down you saw that familiar sight, that thin skin stretched out to show that long vein that started at the side of his dick and traveled down the center.
His other hand ran up your calf, to your thigh just to rest on your stomach, still covered by the top of your satin nightie, and with a firm force and a, “Lie back f’me” you were laid down on the bed with your legs spread.
He spread them a little further, and you watched as best you could while still laying down, craning your neck painfully to see what he was doing as he made a ring out of his thumb and index finger.
Elvis’ eyes met with yours, making sure you were watching before lining the tip of his cock up with the little makeshift hole he made of his fingers for demonstration.
“When a man plants his seed, he fills you with himself. This right here,” He lifted the little ring he’d made of two fingers, “This is like that little hole between your petals, so what I’m gonna do is fill it just slightly,” he slid the ring over the tip of his cock, leaving you to watch with a mouth slightly agape as his movement stretches the foreskin.
It’s not like when you stroke him though, he stops much too short, and doesn’t even go near the base of his cock, he ends at the base of the tip only.
“Now, this much is just till the wedding Hon. We can only do just the tippy top Baby, can’t break ya in just yet, we gotta wait till we’re unified under God to make that kinda connection-”
“...cause it’s special”
Elvis looked up at you, surprised to hear your soft voice so suddenly, it seems the words left your mouth with a little thoughtful pout. God, let this man hold back today. Let him be graceful and kind to his babylove, Elvis thought to himself as he smiled softly and hummed, 
“Yes it is sweet girl, it’s somethin’ special”
As a moment of sweet silence filled the air the two of you made eye contact, you smiled, feeling unsure of what was to come, he smiled back knowingly.
“Are ya ready Babylove?”
You bit your lower lip nervously and could only nod with trusting eyes. Elvis’ figure suddenly shut out most of the light from the ceiling as he supported his body above yours with one hand while he used his other to line up the tip of his cock.
You let out a shaky breath as he parted your fold with the tip of his cock before running it along your leaking slit. From the bottom up past the top till he hit that bundle of nerves that he could find with a blindfold. You squeaked softly at the bit of force he was using to circle your clit with his cock.
Elvis swore he’d do everything with you in mind, but as he watched the way your big eyes would crinkle to little bouts of eyelid folds and as he saw the way your lip quiver with every squeak and breath you let out, he couldn’t help himself but gauge your reaction to a little something.
Your breaths came out one by one in panic as you suddenly felt the tip of his cock begin to bat around your little bundle of nerves from the top, from side to side, even attacking from the bottom. Your eyes shot open from their little crinkles of stress and just before you could open your mouth his little batting around of your sensitive bud turned to slowed drawn out circles rubbing along the edge.
“That feels good huh Honey? It’s gonna get even better, just need ya to relax. Uh huh, that’s good, you’re doin’ good”
You relaxed into it, your jaw falling slack and your breaths coming out shallow. As you sank into that warmth that always accompanied Elvis’ gentle touch, Elvis pulled his neck back slightly to get a better look at your hole, with your folds parted he had a perfect view if he could look past his cock. He craned his neck a little to the left and found the target, wide open from your relaxed state, he licked his thumb to lubricate it and like a veteran, he navigated his cock down and at the forefront of it as his thumb took its place and pace in circling your clit, had you not been watching through lidded eyes you wouldn’t have even noticed.
“Here it come Baby, here it come”
Elvis couldn’t even look at you to gauge your reaction as his head fell back immediately as he was engulfed by your heat. Somewhere in the distance he heard a high-pitched noise but he was too high on the feeling- No, the knowledge that the first thing to fill you, to really fill you was his uncut cock’s head.
He breathed out to the ceiling, or rather to the Lord,
“Fuck…”
How could a feeling like this fill his mind, body, and soul from just the tip going in. Shit if he hadn’t already proposed to you he would do it now, just so he could one day feel the full effect of your body on his.
And then he finally peered down at you, and you were a sight to behold. He hadn’t been with a virgin in a long time, and the ones he had been with, you made them look like the most experienced girls in the world.
Your face was crumpled and your clenched fist was brought up to your mouth, you bit down so hard on your knuckles Elvis could see the skin losing its color around your little teeth. His hand slid down to your hip, running along the skin soothingly, as he hummed out, “Relax, it’s alright, just relax”
You nodded and pulled your fist from your mouth to show you were relaxing, but as your lower lip trembled Elvis could only softly remind, “Relax…”
And after a few moments of Elvis running his hands along your hips you spoke in an unsure whisper, “I-Is that it?”, Elvis sighed with a smile, “No Hon, don’t worry, but I can’t show ya the rest till ya relax, alright?” Elvis could feel you tightly around him, if he tried to pull the head of his cock back out he’d hurt you, he knew that.
"I-I am relaxed"
“No ya not Babylove”
You sighed softly, feeling a bit frustrated, this wasn’t what you thought it would be, it hurt. And it was obvious that you weren’t acting in the most pleasing way, so you lied through your teeth with a bit of an edge to your quiet words, “I’m relaxed.”
Elvis’ soft smile fell slightly at the tone of voice, and his eyebrows rose as he stared down at you, only now you avoided eye contact and opted to look at the wall. You tried to focus on the paint of the wall as best you can but it was thrown out the door as you felt a painful pull.
You whined at the feeling, and watched as Elvis pulled out, now you attempted to look him in the eye but he didn’t even spare you a glance as he muttered before lining himself up again, “Call that fuckin’ relaxed? If you’re so relaxed it should be easy goin’ back in”
Before you could voice an apology he’d already shoved the tip back in. It was much rougher than the first time he had put it in, it had you release a loud whimper and kick your feet, your heels pushing you away from his body, but his hips only chased further.
And those hands that were soothingly rubbing along your hips earlier now had them in a bruising grip to keep you from moving.
“Said ya relaxed, so fuckin’ act like it-”
Elvis let out a low groan as he stroked his cock while your little hole contracted from the stress of it all, it was like you were trying to swallow him, trying to suck him down into you. Almost like your body knew you needed his seed. And had he been a different man, or more accurately, had you been a different girl, he would’ve given it to you without shame. But you were different, you were special, you made this special.
He pulled out once more just to push back in, and then he repeated with no time in between, leaving you gasping at the rough push and pull of his cock head and whining at it, before blubbering out a series of apologies to him.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, ‘m not relaxed..! I-It hurts Elvis..!”
He’d ignored your apologies, but the way you said his name, like he could solve all your problems while also causing all of them, it was like you had this type of innocence. A pure innocence that no matter the pain he’d cause you, you’d still love him. Like if he kicked you, you’d come running right back.
Elvis stopped himself from pulling out once more and stared down at you, his grip released and one of his hands cupped your cheek and rested a thumb at the corner of your eye just before your temple, ready to catch a tear in case those teary eyes of yours spill over.
You stared up at him with a frown and pulled your hands to rest nervously on your stomach, feeling a sudden sense of awkwardness mixed with discomfort at the idea of Elvis being upset with you. But instead he seemed to sympathize with you,
“Now you see, ya gotta listen to me Babylove. I don’t expect much from ya, all I expect is honesty, now, be honest and let me know when you relax.”
You let out a shaky breath and soft noise as Elvis’ thumb landed back on your clit, beginning to rub those circles that make your hips twist a little from instinct. Elvis’ lips had been on yours in the blink of an eye, but his kiss was deep and slow, it wasn’t like when he’d kiss you so hard and so fast that your teeth knocked against his. Instead you felt his tongue explore each and every inch of your mouth carefully, could feel the way his tongue swiped along the small space between your lower gums and teeth.
His nose lightly grazed against the start of your cheek as he tilted his head to get a different angle. 
And in what would be one of the only moments for you to catch your breath within the kiss, you managed to breath out, “‘M ready”
It was a different kind of tug due to the efforts of the both of you. You were relaxed and open and Elvis was only rocking back and forth into you, no complete pulling, you couldn’t handle that yet.
With each rock of his hips, you let out a little breath or squeak. For a moment you lost focus as you watched the way Elvis used the thumb on one hand to stroke your little bud while using his other hand to stroke himself, but you were pulled back into your moment with Elvis as he groaned lowly, followed by a groan that sounded a bit more throaty. He was close.
And knowing that it was because he was in you made you feel a sense of excitement, and sense of sexuality, realizing you could make a man feel this way by doing nothing but laying there like a pliant doll.
Be a pliant wife. Your mother was right.
Your hips dragged upward slightly, crashing into his hips that were rocking down into you, the collision of skin made you moan softly as your manicured nails reached for the sheets, one hand gripped them brutally while your other hand ended up in Elvis' hair, not gripping, only carding through the dark strands.
“E-Elvis, it’s- I’m…”
You couldn’t describe it, what was coming, but thankfully you didn’t have to as he mumbled into your lips,
“I know Baby, I know. It’s comin’ f’me to, comin’ fast Babylove- H-how’s it comin’ for you?”
As the upward grind of your hips turned to little upward thrusts that your feet could manage on the slippery sheets of the bed you could hardly choke out a word as his thumb had entertained that warmth just below your stomach for too long, it’d been teased and tugged along far too long from the rubbing of his thumb on your little bundle of nerves that at its peaking point, it snapped, leaving you to try and choke out the words,
“It- I- It’s-”
As your mouth remained agape but your voice fell silent, and those pitiful attempts at thrusts of yours fell back to wishful grinds of your hips. Elvis thanked the Lord, he’d been trying his best to hold on for you, to slow his rocking when he felt himself get a little too close, he’d been edging himself almost the entire time for you.
And now as he pulled out and continued to stroke his cock with one hand, the hand previously fondling your clit reached for the pair of panties he laid aside so long ago.
As you caught your breath you watched as Elvis’ hand stroked twice, thrice, four more times along his length before he buried his cock in your crumpled up panties, letting his head fall back and a guttural moan fill the room as he reached his peak.
After a few moments of silence accompanied by the pants of the both of you Elvis removed the metal ring holding his short ascot scarf together at the center of his neck, you heard a clink as he tossed it somewhere on the wood floor, then you watched as the fabric got closer to your face, closing your eyes at the contact you could feel Elvis wiping away the dampness building on your head and cheeks from the heat what you just experienced. As the feeling left you watched as he wiped his own face off before bringing the satin scarf down to your petals, wiping off the proof of your pleasure from your pussy’s lips then wiping off your thighs that happened to be the victims of the heated juices that spread through your body which were shoveled out from the earlier pulls of Elvis’ cock’s head.
After Elvis caught his breath and pulled the panties away from his cock to see his work, then he flipped it toward you, and you saw that familiar white liquid that Elvis told you was a reward for your hard work.
“When we get married and I fill you with my seed, this is what I’ll be fillin’ ya with, I promise…”
Your eyes were lidded and tired, but full of love as you took in the sight of your fiancé, his once perfectly coiffed hair now ruffled, you could see sweat stains forming on the blue silk shirt he didn’t bother to take off before starting, and those eyelashes of his must’ve been batting so much as he now had a stray on his cheek, he must’ve missed it with his scarf.
As Elvis prepped your reward, scraping it off the pastel fabric with a finger you parted your lips, and as he finger-fed you his seed you accepted the finger into your mouth, closing your lips around it as you sucked it clean. “Atta girl, did so well” 
Your own little finger guided up his cheek to swipe the eyelash off his cheek, he watched with confusion at the way you smiled around his finger, then you flipped your finger around to show him.
As he crawled over your body to lay down beside you, removing his finger in the process you spoke with a bit of hoarseness, “Make a wish”
Elvis smiled fondly and put a hand over your thigh, “You can have this one Babylove”
You smiled before checking once more, “Are you sure?”
He wanted to laugh at how serious you were taking it all, and with a gentle rub of his hand he reassured, “I’m sure Honey, I’m sure”
You smiled down at the little eyelash resting on the middle of your index finger. And you wished for all that you could want, you wished for a happy marriage.
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I had so much fun!! I really liked writing this, and I'm so happy I've had requests to write this character to the point I can turn it into a whole au!! hope you liked it.
If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this au feel free to just comment or message me!
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@fadedsummerlove, @lialocklear, @astral-eyed-cat here it is lovelies
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jade-jini · 8 months
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My brain still has some g!p loser virgin Minjeong left so I need to keep talking do not shut me up.
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(I need her deep in my *cars collapse*)
Ok clearly she ain’t a virgin anymore lmao but still she’s not experienced at all. You’re surprisingly patient with her:’) guiding her through the basics of it. She was very eager to learn how to eat you out. So when she first did it it was both messy but also so good. “So this is your clit, right?” She asked softly touching it with the tip of her finger, lying in between your legs nsfndk loser. “Yes. Remember what I told you?” “The more I stimulate it the better you feel?” “Good puppy. Do you wa- holy fuck Minjeong!” You couldn’t even finish and she was already licking it up and down 😭 like yeah it felt nice but she was being so messy and impatient you actually had to grab her hair and slowly guide her. Which ended up in you basically fucking her mouth. That day she was so focused on ONLY eating your pussy and using her fingers. She wanted to get better at it and make you proud :( so she kept going until the only reason you were grabbing her hair was because of how good she was making you feel.
“Is that good y/n?” She’d ask while looking up at you and smdnfk those puppy eyes I’m telling you. “So good puppy, you’re so good…” you’d moan while patting her head and that made her so happy.
Minjeong is such an impatient puppy when she’s inside you, so you teach her how to have a less erratic pace, grabbing her hips and guiding her when she’s the one on top, or fucking yourself on her cock when she’s behind you (which she loves even after she gets better). And of course, the more you fuck the better she got at not.. coming so fast dnndkd.
You can’t be too good and patient tho, you torture her a bit and that’s where cockwarming comes in the picture 😌( mainly the reason I wanted to continue writing shdjdjw). You’d take her home after class and since you’ve been teasing her all day, she assumes you guys are gonna have a lot of fun once you’re at your place and she’s so excited already lol. So when you explained to her that you were gonna watch a movie she was a little confused but, nonetheless was ok with spending time with you. Oh but poor thing.. didn’t know what was coming (spoiler alert: not her for a while). You guys were chilling at the sofa, when suddenly you started unzipping her pants which she willingly took off, silently grateful to know all that teasing wasn’t for nothing. When you also took yours off and slowly sat on her shaft, she was quick to grab you and start moving you up and down on it and Omg it felt so good you almost forgot what the plan was. Ah yeah- cockwarming. “Wait-Omg wait minjeong.” “Hm? what’s wrong y/n? Did I hurt you?” She asked worried and immediately stopped sndjdjf why did she have to be so cute all the time. “No no, but there’s something I want us to try today ok? Just stay still, don’t move.” And so she did. But you see, being inside you and not being able to move was so hard for her that not even 20 seconds went by and she was already asking you “w-what do I do now? When can I move?” “Once the movie is done. But you’re gonna go through the whole almost 2 hours without coming, ok?” “..What?!” She gulped. Wdym not coming?! What did she do? Jeongie didn’t understand if this was some type of punishment because nothing sounded crueler than that. You quickly turned around, now facing her and grabbed her face to softly explained to her that she didn’t do anything wrong. You used the excuse of “this will help you last longer”. And she doesn’t have the brain to fact-check on that so she just trusts you 😭. She just wants to make you feel good so she’ll do whatever you ask her for even if it was something as hard as this.
Ofc you didn’t make it easy for her tho. You didn’t only move a little bit throughout the movie, but also left little kisses and praise her from time to time. She’d only hug you closer to her and whimper, trying her best not to lose it. After a little more than an hour tho she was already begging you to please let her come lol and you almost gave in but no! She could hold it in a little longer. She wanted to prove she was your good girl right? So she better behave. Poor girl almost looked in actual pain, sobbing against your chest while she hugged you, whispering how good your pussy felt and how much she needed to come inside it and ughhhh- the rest of the movie was as painful for her as it was for you. Once it was over tho you made sure to reward her and ride her so good ‘till her legs were shaking dndkfnjd. (The pic of minjeong sitting down with that dark shirt-).
She gets touchy too 😳 whenever she gets horny she goes behind you and holds you by the waist, her hand dangerously getting closer to your boobs, but if it’s in public you just look at her, daring her to actually do it. Ofc, she doesn’t 😭 so she just groans and stays holding you. If you’re alone tho she will grab them and get your ass right against her already hard dick, silently begging you for some attention. When y’all fucking her hands will travel everywhere; from spanking your ass, to grabbing your legs, playing with your boobs, grabbing you by the neck 😩specially when she’s behind you, holding you closer and closer to her and you can be sure sometimes you’ll have marks on your skin.
teaching her not only how to pleasure you, but also teaching her things she could do while you’re both far from each other 🙊. A lot of phone sex. Making her masturbate for you either on FaceTime or simple call, talking her through it. If it’s regular call then you’d tell her to describe exactly what she was doing for you. She does it but gets so lost in pleasure she ends up mumbling and moaning. “Hmmgh y/n… I need you here.. I m-miss you so much.. please..”. Also controlling when she comes. Making her touch herself fast then slow then fast again and once you finally tell her to come for you she makes a complete mess in her hand. Telling her to clean it for you and to show you 😳 she looks so hot doing it it makes you fantasize about if you were the one with the dick and how you’d make her suck you off- I’m losing myself rn one second one second.
So yeah anyway girlie ends up becoming so good at fucking you 😳 and she’s so proud of herself.
“You’re such a good fucktoy, just mine. Aren’t you, puppy?”
“Yes y/n, only yours…”
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