#his NAME is DICK it's practically half-written for you already

[nostalgia-tblr]

gotta admit i'm a little disappointed to discover there's no richard iii/reader porn on ao3.

[scoops-aboy86]

Crushing (Secret Admirer pt 6)

Steddie Week 2024, July 6: Dizzy / drunken confessions / Crush on You by Bruce Springsteen

Fun fact: there are “sorry”s to correspond with a nat 20. It’s a luck thing, though more reflexive than actually hopeful. 

If you turn 6 upside down it's a 9 and today's the 9th, so I would argue that I am still right on time. 🙃 Anyway, I didn't get to the drunken confession part but it was getting too long, so that can be in the last chapter. Enjoy!

wc: 3034 / rated: T / set during season 3 / also on ao3

Sweet Steve, perfect Steve, golden Steve,

Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry SORRY

I cannot adequately express how much I regret hanging up on you. It happened a few minutes ago and I’m already writing this because I can’t call back now, not after that. I can’t believe I even did that, I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid because you were saying all these perfect things? Literally everything I never thought I’d get to hear from anyone ever and then I ruined it. 

(The scribbles in the margins are representative of all the times I stop writing just to explosively cuss myself out for being so chickenshit. It looks messy but I am a mess and it’s all my own doing, made my bed and lying in it etc. etc., if I could mount my own head on a pike right now I would Jesus H. CHRIDJDBBWLSNEVEOALAVSVALAMDBDBXJXLFKENSVAVWUELMFBDUSKANS <— an example and demonstration)

I’m sorry I’m a coward. I’m sorry I started this and can’t seem to follow through, I’m sorry I keep yanking you around when it’s not what you deserve sweetheart, it isn’t at all. You were perfect, do you hear me? I had a whole list of songs planned, but picked that one spontaneously because you weren’t digging WASP and I was thinking about the way you’re so hard on yourself sometimes about the guy you were in high school, even though all high schoolers are idiots. (With how many times I’ve had to repeat, I am an expert on this, obviously largely from personal study and reflection.) You didn’t peak in high school, Steve, because you are a wonderful person right now and that’s what matters. You call yourself a romantic sap but I love that about you, please never lose that. 

With every letter you’ve poured out a little of your soul; it only seems right that I try to do the same to make up for my… everything. 

I’m a guy. I’m gay. I’ve never written that down before so explicitly but it’s true. You were so thoughtful about the whole music thing and trying to show we can have common interests but, to be blunt, unless dick is one of those I don’t think this is going to work out. 

No hard feelings obviously. It’s on me for letting this go on so long without being more honest. This is absolutely no reflection on you and does not make you queer by association. I won’t tell anyone—though if I did I’m not considered credible or trustworthy in this town, believe me. 

If you’ve read this far… I mean, I won’t know unless you tell me, obviously. But it doesn’t have to mean anything other than that you’re a good dude. The only person in my life who knows about me and knows my name is the man who’s more like a father to me than my “real” dad; it’s nothing personal, I’ve just had some bad experiences. Remember that concussion I mentioned? … Yeah, that was courtesy of the ol’ sperm donor. Thought I was over freezing up about it after more than half a decade, but no such luck!

On that note, I need to go… not be a person for a while. Take care. I remain, as always—

Your Secret Admirer

P. S. The song you said you liked was Rainbow In The Dark by Dio, off his Holy Diver album. It’s a good album, even if I’ve blown it with you I still hope you check it out sometime. 

Eddie drops the pen over the side of his bed, practically throwing it. He drops the notebook he’d scribbled the letter in to the floor; he’ll tear it out and mail it later. 

Probably. 

Maybe. 

He’ll think about it, once he’s done not wanting to think anything at all. 

~

Dear Secret Admirer,

Are you okay? I can’t call you back, so the best I can do right now is write. I shouldn’t have pushed you again, I keep doing that, like an idiot. 

I was having a nice time

Call back whenever, if I’m there I’ll pick up. Call back tonight even, except I can’t get this in the mail until tomorrow so never mind, but I won’t be mad, I promise. Or you can write to me. Please. At least to be friends, if you’re tired of how I always come on too strong (which is literally what Robin keeps telling me with that damn whiteboard all the time, go figure). And maybe you can tell me more about your music, like that one with the rainbows? I think that maybe you’ve been writing to me so much because maybe you’re lonely too, and I know how much that sucks. 

So, I’ll be here. Whoever you are, wherever, I hope you’re okay. Stay safe. 

— Steve

~

All Steve can think about is how stupid he was, pushing Secret Admirer like that. He hasn’t gotten a letter yet, and genuinely doesn’t know if he ever will again. 

Robin doesn’t ask why he’s quieter than usual during work for the next few days. Dustin returns from Camp Know Where and Steve tells him he doesn’t want ice cream because he has to stay in shape for the ladies, but it leaves the bad taste of a mostly-lie in his mouth. 

Because, oh yeah, breaking news: he thinks Secret Admirer is probably a guy. 

That would explain the adamant secrecy, the way the letters are careful not to suggest one or the other. No matter how embarrassing Steve is, a girl would have less to lose compared to a gay dude being outed in Hawkins. And he knows for a fact there were rumors circulating after Jonathan Byers gave him his first and mildest concussion in ‘83. Rumors about what he’d said, what he’d spat at the guy, all no doubt spread by Tommy and Carol. All his past actions coming together to prove that he can’t be trusted, can’t be confided in, even after everything. 

It’s almost secondary that it doesn’t seem to make a difference to his feelings. He may have fallen for someone who happens to be a guy—so what? It’s better than crushing loneliness. Better than no one caring. Better than being forgotten aside from his douchebag legacy at school and all his parents’ dashed aspirations for his future. 

Then Steve finds himself trapped in a Russian elevator with Robin, Dustin, and Lucas’s little sister (who should absolutely not be here, what the fuck were they thinking) and he just. 

He just regrets never getting to say goodbye. 

~ 

Eddie gets Steve’s letter the day he manages to crawl out of his room long enough to mail his own, checking his PO Box like a nervous tic. He’s absolutely floored by what he reads and screams into his pillow some more because it doesn’t change anything, because Steve wrote it while still not in possession of all the facts. 

After a drive out to Reefer Rick’s to replenish his stash, Eddie does the bare minimum of his regularly scheduled drop-offs. No rest for the wicked, because even the wicked need gas money and shit, but it’s all just halfhearted busy work. 

Then he goes home. Against all common sense and knowing that for the sake of his own heart he probably shouldn’t, he spends the rest of the day trying to call. Every time he punches in the numbers with his heart in his throat, but no one ever picks up. 

~

“Ask me anything,” Robin prods blearily from her stall. “Interrogate me.” 

Steve tries to think through the swimming in his head. “Okay, uh… When was the last time you peed your pants?”

“Today!”

He almost laughs. “No way. What?”

“When the Russian doctor brought his bone saw out. It was just a little bit though!” 

He can picture her holding one hand up, fingers pinched together to indicate a tiny amount. And, okay, fair. “Yeah it’s definitely in her system,” he mumbles to no one. 

“My turn,” she declares. “Have you… ever been in love?”

Steve does laugh this time, not because it’s funny but because the question hits him right between the eyes. “Shit, yeah, a couple times. Uh, first was Nancy Wheeler, junior year.”

“Ooooh… She’s such a priss, though.”

“Yeah, turns out, not so much.” He shrugs, even though she can’t see, hands dangling from where his arms are draped over his bare, scraped knees. There isn’t a part of him that doesn’t ache—including his stomach and throat now, fucking Russian drugs. 

“Huh.” Robin pauses. “So… who was second?”

Sighing, Steve drops his head back against the metal divider at his back. “That blind phone date I told you about.”

It’s a toss-up as to whether he’s admitting this because of the aforementioned drugs or because he’s just too tired to give a shit anymore. What does it really matter, at this point?

“Really? Wow. Okay, I didn’t realize that got so serious.”

Steve lets his eyes fall closed, despite what is likely his third concussion in almost as many years. “It kind of didn’t, I just got… over-invested, I guess. I don’t know if he’s going to write again anyway.”

“H… he?”

“I think so. It was a secret admirer kind of deal, so I never actually knew, but… every time I brought up meeting in person, things went wrong. And like an idiot I kept doing that, so. I don’t know for sure, but I think it might be over.”

Robin’s hand smacks on the tile floor—gross. “How do you not even know for sure after a phone date? Gay guys still sound like guys, Steve.”

“I know that,” he says, a little stung by her reproachful tone. “I talked and he didn’t, he just played some of his favorite songs for me to see if I liked them. Which I did, some of it. It was like, really hard rock or something, not what I usually listen to—”

“I’ll say, Mr. ‘No, Not My Wham! Cassette!’”

“—but it was okay. There were some really cool guitar parts.”

“And it… doesn’t bother you? That a guy was, uh, hitting on you?”

Again, Steve shrugs. “More writing love letters than just hitting on me, but… yeah. I was in pretty deep by the time I figured it out, but I guess not. Is it my turn to ask another question?”

“Um… Sure?”

He’s not sure why she sounds so nervous, figures it should be obvious what he’s going to ask next. It’s kind of a staple of their friendship at this point. “Who sent me that ice cream cone? The strawberry with rainbow sprinkles?”

Dead silence. 

“Robin?” he asks with a flicker of nerves, because, well. It’s been a long day. (Or two days? He’s lost track of how much time they’d spent underground.) “You OD over there?”

“No… I am alive,” she replies, but in such a quiet voice that it doesn’t really reassure him all that much. 

He shifts, scooting on his ass to get under the divider between them and pop back up on her side. It gives him a wedgie, but that’s the least of his problems. 

Robin wrinkles her nose at him. “Steve, these floors are disgusting.”

“Yeah, well, I’m already covered in blood and probably some puke, so.” He tests his tongue on his bottom lip, trying to decide if the split is still bleeding or if it just stings for the hell of it. “Who was it?”

She bites her own lip, then whispers, “Is it your secret admirer?”

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure,” he tells her. 

“Okay.” But she’s still hesitating. “Before I tell you… About what I said down there, about Click’s class. I wasn’t staring at you because of you, it… it was because she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

Steve blinks, confused by the sudden change of topic. “Who? Mrs. Click?”

Robin shakes her head faintly without breaking eye contact, literally without blinking as she whispers, “Tammy Thompson.”

“But she’s a… Oh. Oooh.” He remembers Tammy. She’d always fawned over him in that class, back when he’d been so busy mourning the way things had gone with Nancy that he hadn’t given her the time of day. “Yeah, I guess I see the appeal. Pretty, perky, blonde… She’s a total dud though.”

Robin gapes at him. “What?”

He waves a hand. “I’d just broken up with Nancy, and she was all over me all the time, dropping these hints about wanting to go out. It’s like she wanted to be a rebound relationship.”

“So? She’s goal oriented!”

“She wouldn’t leave me alone! Also, she wants to be a country singer but she couldn’t hold a tune if someone put it in a bucket for her.”

Sputtering, Robin smacks at his shin, one of the few places he isn’t bloody or bruised. “I will not take this superiority from the guy who’s surprise-crushing on Eddie Munson!” 

Shock zings through Steve like he’s just had his fingers jammed into an electrical socket. “On—really?”

He remembers Munson too. Who wouldn’t? Loud and weird, and the guy had always seemed perpetually on, always bristled like a porcupine. Stalking around campus in a black leather jacket regardless of weather and ripped black jeans. (Dark colors.) That denim vest with all the weird band patches on it. (Music that Steve didn’t know anything about.) Big flashy rings on his fingers, and Steve knows he’s in some sort of band, probably has guitar calluses. (Hands that would give him away at a glance.) Up on cafeteria tables with his Hellfire Club shirt and long hair, taunting the jocks who gave his friends shit. (Nerd, check. Not into sports, triple check. He’s pretty sure the dude had failed gym at least once for refusing to wear gym shorts.)

Literally the last person in Hawkins who should’ve had eyes for King Steve.

“Munson likes me?” Steve can’t feel his face too well, what with the beating he’d taken earlier during interrogation, so he’s not sure if he’s blushing. His voice definitely does something funny on the last word, though. 

“He said not to tell you who it was from because he thought you might toss it if you knew it was from him,” Robin admits. “Which seemed like a reasonable concern at the time, but that’s because I didn’t know—”

But then Dustin bursts in on them. The kid looks frazzled, and from there on out it’s all running and more blood and a monster made out of people and fireworks and death, their bathroom conversation forgotten. 

~

Eddie had given up on calling around the time the fireworks show started over the mayor’s kiss-ass 4th of July fair. Downed a couple beers while trying not to wonder if Steve found a date to take. Is still awake when Wayne comes in from his shift, and wanders out of his room because anything’s got to be better than staring at the ceiling. 

“Starcourt burned down,” his uncle tells him while Eddie moves zombie-like through the motions of making them each a cup of coffee. “Radio said the police ain’t ruling out arson. Drove past it on the way, there’s search and rescue folks crawling all over the rubble lookin’ for survivors.”

After Wayne goes to bed, Eddie tries dialing Steve’s number one more time. 

No one answers. 

~

After much pleading from Robin, and since Steve’s car keys are still god knows where and his parents are out of town, the Buckleys graciously agree to let him stay in their guest room. It’s just as well, Robin insists; with the concussion, someone should be around to check on him every few hours. 

“That’s only for the first twenty-four,” he points out the next day. He knows the drill. 

“I don’t care,” Robin insists. “You took a beating to protect the rest of us. You could have been killed, Steve! I am checking on you every few hours for the rest of my life from now on, just see if I don’t.”

“Please don’t,” Steve groans, but he’s grinning. Despite the way his ribs and head throb, and the dark circle under the eye that isn’t literally still swollen shut, it’s nice to have someone to be normal with—not ignoring what had happened, he’d learned his lesson about that with Nancy, but taking it into account and then going ‘yes and.’  “Or at least make sure to always knock first.”

“Why w—Ew! Never mind, if you’re feeling good enough to make jokes then you’re probably fine, offer rescinded.”

“You’re still gonna,” Steve points out, then knocks back the painkillers she’s brought him. Mr. Buckley’s shoulder surgery prescription, meet two broken ribs, black eye, and recently re-set nose. 

She sits on the edge of the bed, next to the duffel bag of clothes from his house that her mom had driven her to pick up for him. “Yeah yeah, shut up.”

Silence settles over them for a moment while Steve tries to get comfortable. And fails. His ribs really aren’t doing him any favors today. The discomfort is why he’s still in unflatteringly baggy shorts borrowed from Mr. Buckley and a t-shirt Robin had thrown at his head as a joke (and then helped him out on, since he can’t lift his arms that high without wanting to scream) that declares him a fan of Siouxsie and the Banshees. 

He has no idea how to pronounce Siouxsie and is kind of afraid to ask. 

“Sooo,” Robin starts. “Eddie Munson, huh?”

“Uh.” Steve can’t run a hand through his hair with his stupid ribs, not when he’s not running entirely on adrenaline or before the painkillers kick in, so he settles for twiddling his thumbs. “Yeah? I guess so. His letters are… They’re really good, Rob. I kinda don’t know why he keeps writing when my replies are so crappy. Like… I can’t even do them justice trying to explain.”

“Huh.” She waits a beat. “Well, I checked your mailbox, just in case, and there was a hand-addressed envelope that I brought back for you—”

Ribs be damned, Steve lunges for that duffel.

Tag list (and if you missed the earlier chapters check the "#secret admirer steddie" tag on my blog): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @whalesharksart

@thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva

@nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever @goosesister

@dolphincliffs @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @beckkthewreck @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao

[shy-writer-999]

How One Piece men use your panties & what they do when they get caught

ZORO, SANJI, ACE, and LAW (✿˘ω˘)˘ε˘˶ ) (+ written descriptions of what they'd do with afab reader!)

WARNING: MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

Zoro has your panties wrapped around his cock as he touches himself. His hand is furiously moving up and down while precum seeps out of his tip and saturates the fabric. He’s lying on his bed, with his thick and hairy thighs spread wide, his happy trail leading down towards his massive cock, and his head thrown back in ecstasy. While one hand pleasures himself with your panties, the other hand wanders across his chest, feeling his muscles, imagining that your hands are running over his abs and his nipples, gripping his arms. In an attempt to stifle his groans of pleasure, Zoro bites his lip painfully hard, almost drawing blood. His body tenses in response to the waves of pleasure coursing through him, his thighs spread and twitching, and he lets out muffled sounds of pleasure from deep in his chest. While he fucks your panties, he thinks about fingering you under them, his digits roaming in your glistening pussy, making you writhe in pleasure and moan his name. He would messily suck your juices off his fingers and then kiss you, so you could taste it too. He imagines you riding him, tits bouncing in his face, telling him how good he feels inside of you. He’d paint your walls with white, shooting his cum inside of you with one last satisfied groan.

When you catch Zoro fisting his own cock with your panties he practically jumps out of his bed in surprise. His face is instantly crimson from blush, a look of shock plastered across his eyes and bright red cheeks. He’s wildly flustered, but his cock starts aching already from the seconds of inattention. As he looks up at you through half-lidded, lust-filled eyes, he tells you to “Come here.” You proceed to do exactly as he imagined—he pulls you on top of him and has you ride him until you cum on his dick. He’d grunt and breathe into your ear, saying: “Feels so good baby” and “take it all for me, just like that.”

Sanji has your panties in his mouth while he humps his bed. As he sucks your sweet taste off your underwear, he imagines that he’s eating you out, slurping your dripping wetness from your core, pressing on your sensitive spot over and over again, making your toes curl in pleasure. He wants your hands tangled through his hair, pulling him closer so hard it hurts. He wants to eat you out so good that your thighs clamp shut on his head. Rutting his hips into his blankets and humping his bed builds up friction that makes his cock feel hot and frenzied. Sanji starts groaning your name through the fabric barrier of your panties, precum oozing onto his sheets and leaving a stain. He’s sucking and licking so hard at the fabric that he’s starting to drool. The dirty clacking noises of Sanji fisting his slippery cock echo in his room.

Sanji could eat your pussy for hours and has done it in the past, so he is in no rush as he touches himself to that mental image. He likes to edge his cock, getting worked up until he’s letting out pathetic sounds, looking like an animal in heat, his body flush with his sheets and cock rubbing again and again on the fabric. He likes how it feels as the bed rubs his tip and shaft; it feels so good that the damp stain on his covers grows. He imagines you calling him names and gets off at the thought of each one—he’s partial to “good boy,” “baby,” “sweetie,” and, best of all, his own name cloaked in tones of desperation and love.

When you walk in on Sanji who has your panties balled up in his mouth and his hips humping pathetically into his covers, he looks at you and starts whining. Sanji puts on a show for you, locking eyes and squirming. His gaze is murky with desire and need, his cheeks are pink just like his tip. The pace of Sanji’s hand around his cock quickens as you watch, and his hips buck faster, craving friction. Thinking about your pussy dripping wet from his tongue makes him feel so good. Sanji will fist and grind himself to completion while you watch, getting off on the idea that you’re seeing him shake with pleasure in the most embarrassing position—even better if you touch yourself during it.

Ace holds your panties and sniffs them while he gets off. He literally huffs on them and even one sniff is enough to get him rock hard. It’s like he’s getting high off the scent of your sweet juices. As Ace strokes his cock at a measured pace, he lets out puffs of air that slowly turn into body-wracking moans. He adjusts the hand stroking himself ever so slightly. It feels just right as he milks the precum out of his cock, pretending that your lips are wrapped around his shaft. He imagines fucking your mouth, seeing your eyes tear up from the effort as you deep throat him, with his dick bulging out of your cheek. He wants to push your head up and down, to claim your mouth however he wants. Ace starts moving his hand faster when he thinks of the noises you’d make gagging and slobbering on him, and what you’d look like down on your knees. He imagines your eyes pleading at him, begging him for his cum, ready to swallow every last drop. You would hum onto his cock and swirl your tongue around his tip. As he gets more worked up, he takes deeper breaths of your panties and shudders with pleasure at the thought of your bare pussy. When you suck his cock, he would call you sweet names like “sugar” and “baby,” then he’d fuck you afterwards until your eyes roll back in your head.

When you walk in on Ace with your panties braced around his nose, he looks at you with animalistic desire. He lets out one deep, long moan before peeling your panties from his face. He doesn’t stop stroking himself when he looks at you and he entreats you with his honeyed voice to come over and glide your wet cunt over his throbbing dick. “Come sit on my cock baby, I need you.” You proceed to climb on top of him and slide him inside of you, bouncing on his cock until you cream. He’d fuck you through your orgasm and cum wherever he fancies.

(this one is a little more angsty)

Law has your panties wrapped around his cock, too. But instead of stroking himself vigorously, his fist languidly passes up and down his length. He lets out soft puffs of breath, starting to pant as he teases himself. He’s sitting up and leaning on the wall with his head thrown back and his jaw clenched. His shirt is pulled up slightly, exposing his abs and thick happy trail, which he intermittently passes a hand over. The extra sensation feels magical in combination with your soft panties, which he twists and glides over his tip so it feels just right. The fabric is already soaked with precum and it feels great on his cock. Law is feral for you. He has a callous impulse to fuck you into oblivion, to spank you, choke you, pull your hair and spit in your mouth—and he knows that you like it. And while Law obviously has a proclivity towards dominance, and he loves throwing you around, underneath that is a true soft spot for you. In reality, Law feels lucky that you value and trust him enough to be vulnerable with him. He wants more than anything to know every inch of your body inside and out, to feel close to you and recognized by you. Thus, he balances these two things at once—his carnal desire, and the precious way he cherishes you. And you know this anytime you look into his eyes. So, while he fucks your panties he imagines these things at the same time. He wants to feel close to you while he pulls your hair, he wants you to know that he needs you while he spanks in doggy style so hard that you yelp, he wants you to know that he is yours and you are his when he marks you with his cum and spit.

When you catch Law leisurely stroking his cock with your panties, his core lights on fire. His eyes are riveted onto yours, intense and passionate. He growls at you and demands that you “Get over here and do it yourself.” His voice is gravelly, burning and hungry. You stroke his dick with your panties for a moment, eliciting a series of moans and even whimpers, and then start bouncing on his cock. Law finds the perfect pace to satisfy you. You’re dripping wet before you know it and his cock is huge and slippery, gliding in and out of your folds, sending ripples of euphoria through your center. He drags his cock over your hot and gooey spot so many times that you start to lose your mind. The squelching, nasty sounds echo in the room and you reach for the dark and coarse hair at the nape of his neck, twirling your fingers in it as you get closer and closer to orgasm. While you moan his name, he asks you, “Does that feel good?” and “Do you like fucking my cock?” Law makes sure that you cum first.

૮ ˆﻌˆ ა (˃ᆺ˂) ✿ ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ ٩( ᗒᗨᗕ )۶

that's all for now!! i hope you liked it <3 sorry ive been going ham spamming the TL, i'm ovulating so plz have patience w me LOL

here's my masterlist if ur interested!

--Z

[luffington]

i need stoner!aokiji fic PLEASE

✧.* art credit!

➤ pairing: aokiji (kuzan) x afab!reader

➤ word count: 836

➤ warnings: drug use, established relationship, pre-timeskip aokiji, cockwarming, nipple play, oral (f receiving), temperature play (it's inevitable), voyeurism, brief mention of kizaru x reader

sorry i took forever to write this... i'm STARVED for aokiji content with where i am in the anime right now but he showed up for 5 seconds in a filler arc so now i'm ready to go :3

written in headcanon-ish bullet format!

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Aokiji is laid-back and lazy all the time so it's hard to tell when he's stoned or not. Sometimes you'll come back to your shared place at Navy HQ to find the entire house reeking of weed, your boyfriend relaxing on the couch with his long legs spread wide and smoke pouring from his lips. He greets you with a casual "yo" and offers you his half-smoked blunt.

He is canonically a boobs man. You sit in his lap, cockwarming his massive dick, as he slips one of his big hands under your bra to fondle your right tit like a stress ball, squeezing and kneading at the soft skin.

He peers over your shoulder to skim the daily newspaper with hazy, unfocused eyes. Pretends to glance at the Navy papers he's supposed to look over (his ass is NOT reading!). Eventually, he gives up and pulls off your shirt and bra to really play with your tits.

Grabbing them hard enough for flesh to spill out between the cracks of his fingers, rolling them around and jiggling them. His chilly breath tickles your ear as his cold fingers tweak your nipples until they're stiff. He twists one harshly to hear you gasp, then chuckles and soothes it by rubbing his thumb gently over the areola.

When you inevitably get cotton mouth, he pushes two fingers between your lips and lets you swirl your tongue around them as if they're ice cubes. If it gets really bad, he'll actually create ice for you to suck on. Any part of him inside you turns him on, even if it's from his abilities.

Lazy man does drug that makes him lazier… he is horizontal the entire night. Good thing you love sitting on his face!

Aokiji’s strong hands grip your thighs and hold you flush against his face, drowning himself in your wet cunt. He slurps noisily at your juices, licking and kissing all over your vulva. Makes sure to wrap his plush lips around your clit, tonguing at the sensitive bud and sucking on it like his life depends on it.

Every sensation is intensified by the eternal iciness of his body. You cry out his name as he fucks you with his cold, slick tongue. You can’t help but grind on his face, losing yourself to pleasure and the haziness of marijuana. You almost feel bad for practically suffocating him until he groans, “Just like that, baby. Ride my face with that cute little pussy.”

He moans when you cum, slick gushing all over his lips and chin. Your chest heaves as you crawl off of him with shaky legs and plop down on the bed next to him. “Shit. Delicious as always, baby,” he drawls as he grabs a new blunt and lights it. “Alright, hop on my dick.”

You roll your eyes — he’s just so romantic. You’d already ridden him reverse cowgirl style after he got tired of cockwarming, but his dick was back at full hardness just from eating your pussy. You don’t think he even touched himself during it.

So you do as he asks, the weed making you especially horny, anyways. Wispy smoke pours from your parted lips as you lazily grind on his fat cock, stretching your insides deliciously and filling you up so good.

Slow and lazy sex is kinda his thing, unless he’s riled up from a particularly difficult assignment. (And even then, he has time to calm down on his lethargic bike ride home. You think it’s just an excuse to fuck you dumb.)

Aokiji sits up on his elbows to suck your nipples messily, spit running down the swell of your breast. Making obscene slurping noises that have your eyes rolling back into your head. When he gets close, he thumbs your clit in tight circles to make sure you cum together.

You moan and throw your head back as your third orgasm of the night washes over you. He lets out the deepest, sexiest moan as his cum fills you up to the brim.

He’s snoring two minutes later. You shuffle to get out of bed and grab a snack, but his strong arms wrap around your waist, spooning you from behind. Guess you’re stuck there!

Kizaru is his dealer (the true stoner king of the Marines) and somehow always gets the highest quality weed. He usually comes over for a smoke sesh with you and Aokiji when he gets a new strain he thinks you'll enjoy. He likes to watch the two of you fuck, sitting across the room watching attentively from behind his sunglasses and palming the fat bulge in his pants. Sometimes he asks to join in. It's up to you to decide -- Aokiji doesn't care either way, as long as one of your tight holes is wrapped around his cock.

(Akainu always screams at them when they show up to work high. Neither of them care. Threatens to snitch to Sengoku but Kizaru sold him an ounce last week so 🤷‍♀️)

[seasidesandstarscapes]

Right in the Numbers - Chapter 4

Prev - Next

Summary: Bobby and Don decide to take things a step further

Words: 2777

-

AO3

Or

They’re lying in bed after sex, tangled up in each other when Bobby brings it up.

“Would you want to come on the channel sometime?”

Don blinks rapidly. That feels like crossing a line but he’s not sure in what way.

“I could angle the camera so your face won’t be seen,” Bobby continues on. “But only if you want.”

“You get more money with a partner, don’t you?” Don hates this is the first thing his mind comes up with and he turns away, embarrassed.

“I mean, yeah,” Bobby laughs, “but that’s not what this is about. Just wanted to see if you were interested.”

Thinking it over, the idea grows on Don. It’s quite the turn-on, the anonymous partner while Bobby is begging for his dick.

“Huh, that looks like a yes,” Bobby jabs Don’s side.

“Okay, okay, yes,” Don relents. “The more I think about it, the hotter it gets.”

“Exactly,” Bobby grins, “course we’ll have to plan it all out, have our signals. So it’s going to be a little unsexy before then.”

“That’s fine,” Don shrugs. “No worse than usual.”

“Hey,” Bobby pokes his side again.

Don kisses Bobby, a smile plastered on his face as he does so. Bobby grunts, but when Don pulls back he trails after, pecking his lips.

“Alright, I’ll accept that, Don Hume, but you watch yourself.”

“Man, pulling out my last name in bed, huh?”

“You’d rather I call you Humesy?”

Don doesn’t need those wires to cross and shakes his head. “No thanks, Mochsy.”

“You’re the worst,” Bobby rolls his eyes.

“Not yet,” Don muses, “I could be calling you Bob.”

“Oh god. Wait, actually that’s kinda cute.”

Don groans, pushes Bobby’s face away with his entire hand.

“Nope, not getting rid of me.”

Bobby plasters himself to Don’s body like a koala in a tree. For a moment, his face even scrunches up and Don nearly dies at the sight.

“So, our cam session,” Bobby begins again.

Don listens, agreeing with everything Bobby suggests. It doesn’t have to be perfect. After all, it’s just for fun. Don’s camera-shy nerves calm down a little and he trusts Bobby.

Unfortunately, they’re on the road in a few days and Bobby would rather they do it in the safety of his apartment. Don agrees but the anticipation is almost too much. Especially for Bobby.

Don is sitting towards the back of the bus, pen cap in his mouth, headphones in his ears. He’s working on a crossword when Bobby flops down next to him, pulling out a notebook from his backpack.

Simply watching, Don’s eyes then go wide when he sees the words “Sex Night” at the top of a page, underlined three times. The pen cap in his mouth drops, never to be seen again.

“Here?” He hisses as Bobby clicks his pen.

“Half the guys are asleep. Chuck and Roger are practically rubbing each other off. We’re fine.”

Don is slow to pull out his headphones, his cheeks hot and flushed. Bobby already has several bullet points written, but there’s enough between each space for Don’s input.

It even says that, a heart drawn after Don’s name.

“You’re like a girl in high school,” Don mutters.

“Well, lucky for you I’m not, otherwise I wouldn’t be here. So, blindfold, yay or nay?”

Don frowns, tries to work past his embarrassment. “Kinda like seeing all of your face.”

Bobby nods thoughtfully, crosses out the blindfold bullet. “Man, you should fuck me until I can’t even speak.”

How Bobby can talk about sex like this when others can hear is beyond Don. He shrinks in his seat though he doesn’t see any eyes on him.

“Can I,” Don clears his throat, “Can I pin your wrists or hold onto them?”

“Hell yeah,” Bobby beams. “Love being restrained.”

Don has noticed this, the way Bobby relaxes the moment he has his entire weight on him.

And the one time Don grabbed Bobby’s wrists to stop him from getting hit by a car that ignored the traffic lights. He thought it was just adrenaline that made Bobby’s eyes go wide until he saw the outline of his cock hardening in his jeans.

Bobby scribbles some more thoughts down though most don’t go beyond one word.

“What do you mean by ‘Position’?,” Don points.

“Well I’m thinking doggy-style. That way I’m on the bed, you’re standing and then your head is just out of frame.”

Don reaches out, flips through the other pages of the notebook. From what he can see, the rest is all hockey stats.

He raises a brow at Bobby who just shrugs.

“Believe me, my channel and our practices require the same amount of strategy.”

Don is in no spot to argue and he just nods along to Bobby’s other suggestions, adding an opinion here and there. By the time they reach the hotel, they have a solid plan, Don’s excitement close to matching Bobby’s.

In the meantime, Bobby snags them a room together yet again and they collapse into exhaustion after some quick hand jobs.

The game is a rough one. They fall behind and catching up will require a miracle. It doesn’t help that everyone on the team seems to rotate through the penalty box, making strategies all the more stressful.

Then, Don gets a lucky break. He has the puck and passes it to Shorty who scores their first goal that game. It’s enough to raise morale and soon, the other team is left in the dust.

“So fucking good,” Bobby moans as Don sucks him off in their hotel room. “You got us there, baby. You’re perfect on the ice.”

Pride pushes Don to give Bobby an amazing blowjob, leaving him a shaking, whimpering mess when he finally comes. Bobby is too much of a wreck to reciprocate, but he pulls Don on top of him, lets Don jerk off and come all over his face.

Don doesn’t know why, but he takes a picture with his phone of Bobby, disheveled and covered in his seed.

“Saving it for the spank bank?”

“God, you’re so vulgar,” Don shakes his head with a smile.

When they’re finally back home, Don finds himself counting down the days until their themed Sex Night. They make it through practices all right, but any moment alone finds their hands on each other.

Don wonders if there’s more behind this, if Bobby is finally feeling the same way. Maybe after the stream he’ll finally sit Bobby down and talk to him.

But he probably won’t.

The fated day arrives and Don’s a bit of a nervous wreck. He wants to be so good for Bobby, doesn’t want to be the reason Bobby’s channel tanks.

“Relax,” Bobby rubs his arms. “Even if you…hit my head so hard I end up in the ER, it’ll be fine.”

That sounds terrible and something that would actually happen to Don. His eyes widen as a million worst case scenarios sprint through his mind.

“Donny,” Bobby grabs Don’s face with both hands. “Breathe in and out for me.”

Bobby does a calming breath exercise and Don copies it. He’s surprised how much it helps, his shoulders dropping just a little. He can do this.

“There we go,” Bobby smiles. “Now, come fuck me, darling.”

Bobby takes them to his bedroom, his camera and laptop all set up. There is a light ring facing the bed and Don wonders how Bobby doesn’t ever have to squint during his streams.

“Hey everyone,” Bobby bounces onto his bed and smiles at the camera. “Got a special treat for you tonight.”

Don peeks at the laptop screen, his eyes going cross-eyed with how many programs are open. There’s audio, quality meters, the chat, even a camera view so Bobby can see himself as he’s camming.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is and Don swallows. He’s never had an interest in mirror sex, but maybe he’ll have to try it with Bobby sometime. Bobby grins at Don as if reading his thoughts before he takes off his shirt, grabs a few last minute items.

“I’ve got a guest with me tonight. Not telling you who he is, but I think you’ll like him.” Bobby winks at Don.

The corner of Don’s mouth twitches and he’s not sure what to do, hands flexing at his sides.

“Go on, strip,” Bobby commands and Don is quick to obey. “He’s a great listener,” Bobby tells the chat.

Don throws his shirt at Bobby and he laughs, tossing it to the side. When Don is bare, he sees Bobby has undressed all the way too except for the one detail Bobby insisted on. A cock ring nestles at his base, the yellow a bright contrast against his dick that pulses an angry red.

Bobby sighs, wistful and needy while he braces himself on his hands and knees. He pushes the condom and lube in Don’s direction, wiggles his hips oh so teasingly. Don wants nothing more than to put his mouth on Bobby’s skin, but that would put him in the camera’s view. So, he has to resist with all his might.

Going for the lube first, Don slicks up his fingers before teasing Bobby, barely touching his hole. Bobby can easily take a finger right away, but tonight, he’s supposed to make Bobby a begging mess.

“Come on,” Bobby pleads, trying to push back on Don’s finger.

With his clean hand, Don smacks Bobby’s ass and he jolts with a heady moan. “I’ll be good,” he lies, “I’ll be so good.”

Don bites back a laugh, grants Bobby a single finger pushing in. Bobby’s whine is a little too pointed, just for the chat, and Don swirls his finger around.

“I can take three,” Bobby puts on his act. “I can take your cock right now.”

Don rakes his hand down Bobby’s back, savors the shiver that runs along his spine. He’s dug in deep enough to leave red marks that will fade in a few minutes, to remind Bobby of his submission. Bobby hisses but Don knows he loves the pain, sees the way his eyes roll up. Don abruptly shoves in another finger and Bobby chokes, grips onto the sheets.

Out of the corner of his eye, Don sees the chat flying by and he’s again amazed that Bobby can keep his focus.

“D—Baby, please.” Bobby almost slips but Don doesn’t mind.

A part of him wants everyone to know who Bobby belongs to, that he has special privileges none of them will ever have.

Bobby is rocking back on three fingers now, moaning and gasping for the camera. God, to watch this back later will drive Don mad. A wicked thought enters his mind and he curls his fingers, driving them home.

The cry that leaves Bobby is genuine and he almost bursts into tears. “There, do that again.”

Don obliges, his cock throbbing as Bobby throws his head back with a loud moan.

“Fuck me,” Bobby gasps.

Pulling his fingers out, Don scrambles with the condom, more lube before he’s positioning himself at Bobby’s hole. He nudges the head in, testing Bobby’s patience just to see what will break him. With a low groan, Bobby takes over and sheathes himself on Don’s cock to the hilt. He shoots a glare over his shoulder though there’s no malice behind it.

Don grins, gives Bobby a shrug which gets him an eye roll in return.

“He’s an asshole too,” Bobby tells the camera and that’s when Don sharply thrusts into Bobby, cutting off anything else Bobby was going to say.

Bobby whimpers, his arms shaking as Don fucks him, far from gentle and in no rush to finish. Don could come from this alone, but there’s still some more to show off.

Don rolls his hips making Bobby spout nonsense. His voice engulfs Don, spurring him faster, rougher, punching gasping breaths out of Bobby. Don catches a glimpse of Bobby’s cock and he almost feels sorry for him. It looks like it’s on the verge of bursting, the ring constricting Bobby’s pleasure.

“I wanna come,” Bobby begs with Don’s pointed thrusting. “I’ll do anything.”

Maybe he can use that to his advantage later, but for now, Don trails his hand along Bobby’s thigh, starts to reach around to his cock.

Bobby slaps his hand away and looks back at Don. “Not yet, baby.”

Don nods, then remembers part of their list. Pushing Bobby to lean forward, Don then takes Bobby’s wrists in his hands once his upper body is braced against the bed.

Bobby becomes a rag doll, uselessly trying to move his hips as Don rams into him. Don squeezes Bobby’s wrists, loves seeing Bobby fall to pieces. If this were his last night with him, Don wouldn’t regret a single moment.

“I want you to come on me,” Bobby chokes out between thrusts.

Don taps Bobby’s wrist to agree and pulls out so he can flip Bobby over. Hair sticks to Bobby’s forehead, his chest heaves all while his eyes bore right into Don’s soul.

Don all but tears off the condom, his breathing ragged and short. Giving himself no time to think, Don furiously pumps his cock until he’s spilling over Bobby. The corners of Bobby’s mouth quirk, his eyes closed, as if he’s in a hot shower and not under Don, his skin painted with cum.

Don has to take a moment to collect himself, to just look at Bobby. God, he’s beautiful.

Using his foot to nudge Don’s leg, Bobby gets his attention, brows raised. With a few quick nods, Don takes Bobby’s cock in his hand, settles back into their scene.

Bobby whimpers, writhes, but just as he gets close, Don pulls his hand away. Tears fall down Bobby’s face and he begs Don to let him finish.

Don wants to kiss all those tears away as he works Bobby’s cock, watching his breaths grow shorter. When Bobby taps his thigh, Don takes the cock ring off and shoves three fingers into Bobby, other hand pumping furiously. Bobby comes, shaking, his mouth open in a silent scream. It looks almost painful but when Bobby collapses against the bed, a hint of a smile gracing his face, Don doesn’t have to worry.

“I love you.”

It’s just a whisper, but Don catches every word. He stares at Bobby, mouth dropping open.

Then, just like that, the moment is over and Bobby, though tired, props himself up to look at the camera.

“Thanks for joining us,” Bobby manages. “See you next time.”

He shuffles over, turns off the camera before falling back on the bed.

Don is frozen where he stands. His ears must have been tricking him. Bobby’s eyes are closed and Don can only watch the rise and fall of his chest, coated in their shared seed.

It’s suffocating. Don steps back, looks around for his clothes. As quietly as he can, he starts to dress. He needs to at least not be naked before he does something stupid.

“You heading out already?” Bobby is looking at him, but Don refuses to meet his eyes.

“I,uh—,” Don doesn’t know what to say.

He’s scared of his own doubt, how his voice catches, snatched away to ridicule him.

“Don,” Bobby starts and Don holds his breath as he stares at the wall. “Forget about what I said earlier.”

Bobby doesn’t have to explain just what he means.

“Got caught up in the moment. And sure, I love you, but like…as a best friend, you know?”

Searing pain courses through Don’s body as he nods. Of course. That’s all this is. Just a fuck.

He grabs his shirt from the other side of the bed, feels Bobby’s eyes watching his every move. His skin prickles and Don has to get out of here.

“See you at practice?”

Don takes a chance, looks at Bobby. If he pretends, he can see trepidation in Bobby’s stare, an anxious call for Don to fight back.

“Yeah, see you,” Don swallows.

The walk out of Bobby’s apartment is too long and Don fumbles for his keys. He won’t let his mind stray, not until he’s at least made it to his car.

In the compacted silence, Don grips the steering wheel and takes a few breaths. A hollow ache carves itself into his chest, spreading into his bones. He’s an idiot for thinking he had a chance. Always too hopeful, too naive, look where it’s gotten him.

With a shuddered breath, the first of his tears fall and Don gives in to his sobs.

[dramatisperscnae]

@personae-obscura [x]

"I was hoping to discuss some of the practices at the Asylum. I understand the name is a legacy, I've been doing my reading, however I believe the word Asylum is somewhat outdated and highly inaccurate." She started, a soft voice with clipped British tones. I also understand that Gotham City is rather unique with the number of vigilantes and the calibre of its... rogues, I believe is the common word." A well manicured hand tucked wispy blonde strands behind her hair before she pulled a notebook and fountain pen out of her puse. She flipped through the pages until she found what she had written during her first visits. "Who exactly does the hiring at Arkham? I find it odd that the place felt the need to reach out halfway across the world for a suitable therapist to reach their more unruly patients. And speaking of therapists, I find the current staffing laughable. Practically a skeleton crew and I highly doubt they are able to seek help themselves given the confidential nature of their complex cases." Not once did Imogen raise her voice, she remained polite, meeting Dick's gaze. Simply summarising the notes she'd been making the last few weeks. "And then there's more specific concerns regarding the man I've been assigned to but we can get to that. I'd like to learn a little more about Arkham from the perspective of a local and a man on the Board. Though given you can't be much older than myself, I'm assuming you haven't held the position long?"

A fountain pen…? Interesting. Dick settled in his own chair, watching her with a calm, open expression that was carefully practiced to hide just how closely he was observing her. British, he knew, and she had quite the professional reputation, having assisted with a murder case not long after obtaining her qualifications. That much he'd learned just doing basic research on her. Now he had a chance to get his own read of this woman.

So far, she was impressive. Businesslike, to the point, those traits he could certainly respect. The fountain pen pointed to a meticulous nature - the damned things were notoriously finicky in Dick's experience, requiring a careful hand to make them work correctly and not leave the writing looking like shit. And, from what he understood, she was currently working with Harvey; only someone capable of keeping close track of details could handle that man and his other half.

At her final question he allowed a faint, slightly sad smile. "Not long, no; just a few months. But I'm fairly well acquainted with Arkham and all its…troubles, growing up in Gotham as I did. My-…guardian," he'd nearly said father; god he missed Bruce. It should be Bruce having this conversation right now, not Dick. "took a special interest in the place. Did what he could for it until the day he died."

Dick sighed then. "As for your question on staffing, theoretically the chief of staff does the hiring, but I believe currently it's being…I think the polite term is 'delegated' to others. Reaching out halfway across the world for a good therapist, though, doesn't surprise me; Arkham's reputation is such that actually finding people who want to work there is difficult at best.

"There are far more problems with Arkham than there are successes at this point, though there are plans in the works to attempt to rectify that. The board has already agreed to the foundation of an independent oversight committee, as an example, to ensure that reports of abuse by security and staff are properly investigated and punished as necessary."

Dick's smile warmed as he continued, "And while Asylum may be considered an outdated term, I prefer to keep it as a guidepost as well as a legacy. An asylum is a place of safety and assistance; it's what Arkham should always have been. Besides," he added with a wry laugh, "even the board will admit it sounds better than 'Hospital for the Criminally Insane'. The term 'Asylum' offers hope that some of our rogues may yet find a way to live peacefully. I want to hold to that."

[lemonluvgirl]

The Whipping

written for @andretries 

I’m roused from the useless stupor I had fallen into by the sound of her voice, speaking quietly in the kitchen.

I sit up, ramrod straight on her living room couch, ears straining to hear her again. None of the horrible things I had been feeling, all the dark thoughts that had been burrowing around in my brain, wrapping themselves around me, tighter and tighter and making me nearly incoherent with pent up worry, exhaustion, and anger, can hold onto me anymore. They slide away at the sound of her awake and still able to speak.

For a long while there I really thought that the girl who had survived the death of her father, starvation, an unknown arena, fireballs and trackerjackers, the careers and the mutts and countless other dangers would finally be overcome by the furious whip of a new Head Peacekeeper.

I really thought we were going to lose her, when Delly had dragged me to the square, whispering frantically, ‘they caught her, Peeta, it's really, really, bad! You have to come quick!’

I really thought I was going to follow her to the grave, shot dead by a squad of armed peacekeepers because when I saw the back of her shirt torn and hanging open, her hands chained to the post, her head lolling half consciously, and her naked back, mutilated and bloody, carved open by the whip, I thought I would kill the man who had done it to her, without any regrets.

But thankfully Haymitch stepped in, and saved us both. But not before Thread nearly killed her, and I openly defied him when I jumped in front of the whip to take the thirteenth lash, right across my face.

“Prim’s fine, your mother’s fine. Everyone is safe.” Gale’s voice floats over from the kitchen. Deep and even, like he’s trying his best to be calm and reassuring.

“And Peeta?” Her voice cracks a little on my name. Everything inside me snaps to attention, and I’m halfway off the couch before I realize walking in on their private moment would be a really dick move right now. So I force myself to be still.

Gale’s tone is low, with that same chest deep rumble that accompanies almost all his conversation, but his voice is still audible.

“He’s okay too.” It’s said without inflection, or emotion. Like he’s trying to be very matter-of-fact about it. I wonder if it pains him to be asked about me. I wonder if he understands that she asks from a place of reluctant friendship, and not-

“Where is he? Did—did they whip him? Arrest him?” My thoughts are interrupted by her erratic sounding questions. I think I half imagine the rising concern I hear in her voice, but then—

“No—well, just the once, but-” Gale starts to explain but she cuts him off, as if no longer listening.

“Peeta?” Her voice is louder now, sharp, with a kind of panic that I’ve heard once before, in the arena. I can hear her clearly all the way in the living room. I imagine her turning her head frantically.

She sounds terrified, like when we split up to find food and both heard the sound of a cannon and thought the other had been killed. But really it was the red haired girl, the one who ate the poison berries by mistake, who had died.

I’m halfway across the room in a heartbeat. Half panicked myself at the searching sound of her voice, and worried that she’ll hurt herself more if she distresses herself, and moves the wrong way.

“Peeta!” She calls a second time, but I’m already by her side, my feet having made the decision while my brain was still processing why she was calling for me so desperately.

Her face relaxes immediately, and the panic leaves her eyes. Up close she looks so small, and battered, laid out the smaller, and informal kitchen table way she is. Her feet just barely skim the edge of the table, and she has more than a foot of extra room on either side. But the space next to her is decidedly not as generous.

I’m practically side by side with Gale. Large man that he is, Gale has to shift to make room for me.

In the back of my head there’s a voice commenting on the tragic irony of it all. Me, displacing him because the bizarre and unpredictable circumstances of reapings have made me someone in her life, a strange kind of footnote, when really I never should have been a concern of hers at all. Him, giving way and making room, not because I’m anyone of real consequence, not when compared to him, but because he can’t bear to see her in any more pain or discomfort than she already is.

Still, there is this moment where I matter enough for her to ask, and that alone is strangely comforting, and validating. Six months ago I probably wouldn’t have even been an errant thought in her mind. But jointly surviving a gladiatorial contest to the death, and then teaming up to deceive an entire nation with a made up love story does bring people together in strange and unpredictable ways.

I know it won’t last long, this moment of fleeting concern. She’ll see I’m alive and she’ll settle down. She’ll ask for him again, or maybe she’ll just pass out. I’ll do the expected thing, the noble thing, and take my leave. The world will be right again. All of Gale’s fears and doubts will be soothed and forgotten. And I’ll be forgotten but that’s ok. Even if I’m left alone in my big cold, empty house, at least I’ll know she’s not alone. That someone who loves her is looking after her.

“Shh, shh, Katniss. I’m ok. I’m alive. I’m right here.” The words tumble out, comforting and familiar, and second nature to me. It's exactly what I would have said if she were waking up from a particularly bad nightmare on the train. But this is no bad dream. Even though the deep, vicious stripes carved into the skin of her back could have been summoned out of my worst night terrors.

Gale takes another, quick step away from us. It's reactive, like he’s stung by the familiarity, maybe even the intimacy in my tone. I feel a twinge of shame, and guilt for half a second before Katniss reclaims my full attention again.

“Peeta.” She breathes my name in a whisper so full of relief that my heartbeat stutters irregularly in my chest, before settling back into a normal rhythm. I feel like I can breathe again, now that I can see her dark, silky eyelashes flutter against her olive cheeks with my own eyes, and hear the soft husky way she says my name with my own ears. She’s alive. She’s alive and she’s not locked up somewhere, or on a train to the Capitol right now. Something very wrong in my world has been set right, and an indescribably huge relief settles into my bones.

She lowers her head back down to rest against the dark grained wood of the table, and my fingers twitch, restless and automatically reaching for her, but I myself stop before they get too far.

It must be uncomfortable for her, lying on her front, I note distractedly.  She’s a side sleeper, and I wish I had thought to slip a towel or small pillow under her head when we were setting her down. Then I remind myself that it shouldn’t be my concern, her sleeping habits and her level of comfort. It's a vestige left over from the victory tour, the instinct to tend to her, see to her needs, to soothe with a touch or gesture.

It feels wrong to think these things, to anticipate in my head what she would want or need, with Gale looking on. It’s not really my place, and now that the tour is over and we’re back to reality. I need to remember we’re just friends. At best.

But then she goes and reaches for me all by herself, just stretches her hand in my direction like it's the most natural thing in the world.

And again my body makes the decision for me before my brain can finish listing the repercussions this will cause. Because there’s no universe in which Katniss reaches for me and I don’t take her hand, regardless of any prevailing wisdom or propriety.

“I thought I’d lose you for sure.” She whispers and I’m so stunned, all I can do is shake my head. She’s looking at me in a peculiar way. I wonder absently how much morphling they actually gave her.

“No,” Is all I can think to say, gently, once I finally get a hold of my ability to speak.

“You could have been killed. Stepping in like that.” She says, eyes locked on me, insistent, despite the odd angle of her looking up at me while lying stomach down on the table.

“I wasn’t. The only one who really got hurt was you.” I reply, disapproval bleeding through at the end, despite the knowledge that it would be disastrous to start an argument right now.

And not just for her health.

Something is happening right here, at this moment, something about the way she clutches my hand while she lies broken and bleeding on her kitchen table. Something oddly reminiscent of the way she had once looked at me when my fever was burning hot and furious inside my body when we were in the cave.

A large part of me has been operating under the impression that that look I remembered was a hallucination on my part. A made up fever dream. Especially after the argument on the train tracks when we first came home. When she told me it was an act.

But now—now I can see it wasn’t just a wishful figment of my imagination.

Katniss Everdeen really is looking at me right now like I’m something irreplaceable. Like I’m something she wants to protect. Something she couldn’t bear to lose.

Which is ludicrous. Totally ridiculous. She’s probably high out of her mind. Driven nonsensical by pain and drugs.

But that look. And the way her lips are trembling.

“You’ve got to take better care of yourself.” She warns.

I almost laugh.

My world feels like it's been turned upside down again, just when I thought I had gotten it straightened out. There’s a riot inside of me. Inwardly I’m a frantic, hopeful, confused mess. But outwardly, I’m calm.

“Look who’s talking.” I murmur, as I stroke her knuckle with my thumb. It’s almost absentminded but on some level I’m aware of it. I’m also aware of how inappropriate it is. But the need to comfort her is strong, so strong. I give her a reassuring smile. I remind myself she’s heavily medicated.

“You should rest.” I say, in as even a tone as I can manage, leaning in just a little to return her hand to the table. I’m not sure she should be stretching her arm out, or moving at all right now. I’m undoubtedly sure I shouldn’t be touching her like I’ve been, with her—whatever he is, in the room.

But when I turn in Gale’s direction to get an accurate assessment of just how badly I’ve overstepped my bounds, and fucked everything up, Katniss’ voice overrides my surprise at seeing we’re alone in the kitchen now.

“Peeta!” She says, in a very put out tone, but I’m still reeling over the fact that Gale had apparently left sometime while we were speaking before. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or guilty.

“Your face!” Katniss says, horrified, as she tilts her head up to get a better look at me.

And I remember the sting of the whip. The white hot burn that split my skin in half a second. The  sure and unflinching hand of the new Head Peacekeeper. It had been dizzying, and disorienting. Not the worst pain I had ever felt, but overwhelming in its suddenness.

Katniss had felt that pain 12 times across her back before Haymitch and I intervened.

It still hurts a bit, and my eye is almost swollen shut, but it's unbelievable that Kantiss is concerning herself with my scratch after she almost got whipped to death.

“It’s nothing. Nothing at all. Your sister already treated it.” It's not really a lie, the snow Prim insisted I put on, did help.  “I’ll be fine. It's you who needs to rest now, Katniss.” I say, trying to infuse sternness into my voice.

But she’s still looking at me with concern, and that concern is quickly morphing into an expression I recognize all too easily on her. Anger.

“Thread whipped you 12 times before we could stop him. This,” I say pointing to my face, “is nothing Katniss. Barely a scratch compared to what you went through.” I tell her as I restrain her hand from trying to reach for my face, I fold her fingers inward and return them to the table, but cover them with my own hand.

To keep her imobile, I tell myself.

“You all need to go. Get out of here and far away from me.” She says in a plaintive, almost babbling voice.

“Shh,” I murmur as I carefully stroke the hair away from the side of her face, when she begins to shake her head stubbornly.

“Peeta, you’ll all be killed because of me.” She whispers, voice full of dread.

“No one is going to die today Katniss. They’ve had their fill of blood. They won’t get another drop.” I vow. My tone sounds far more sure than I can realistically prove or promise.

But in the back of my head, the rational part of my mind, that isn’t preoccupied with the need to get this girl comfortable and resting again, knows that the gamemakers in charge have filled their quota for violence, for now.

Katniss seems to take my words at face value, and settles down a little. Or maybe she’s just exhausted.

Yet that part of me, the unapologetic strategist, starts turning the gears, and starts going over the scenarios as I watch her try to get comfortable again on the hard wood table.

Internally I know the consequences this day will bring, for both us, and Snow, could be far reaching. Publicly whipping your victors in the town square, while it may be a power move, it will not be a popular one. Here in District 12 or in the Capitol. Public sentiment still counts for something even in our totalitarian society. And that could be used to our advantage. It could be used to keep her alive. If Haymitch and I can just figure out how to frame it.

While I try to work it all out, the rest of me, the bigger part of me that is physically standing in Katniss’ kitchen, is in overdrive comfort mode. I peel off my jacket, and fold it in two, and then gently, as gently as I possibly can, I lift her head and tuck it under her. So that she doesn’t have to lay with her face pressed against the cold, hard, bare wood.

“Thanks,” She mumbles, as she presses her face into the fabric, and of all things, inhales deeply. And then sighs, like she’s greatly contented by the smell of it. I worry absently, that it might reek of nervous sweat, after I forgot to take it off while I waited to hear the verdict of whether her mother would be able to save her or not.

“Don’t mention it,” I half plead, still wanting her to go back to sleep, to simply rest and get better. I need her to be ok. Need it, like air, or water.

“Smells good, like bread. Like you.” She whispers, sleepily. Her eyes are starting to droop. I almost let out a noise, a moan or groan of relief, the tension that had begun to gather between my shoulders lessening, at seeing her so close to falling asleep.

“I’ve been running around all day. Probably stinks. You’re just too doped up to notice.” I joke, relieved and yet sad that this conversation is coming to an end. It's been strange, and wonderful, but also, not real. Probably the morphing talking on her part more than anything.

“Nuh, uh.” She refutes clumsily. “You always smell so nice.” She admits in a hushed whisper, like it's a secret. And from the way red floods her cheeks I start to think maybe it is a secret that she’s been keeping. Something she secretly likes about me, like the million-and-one not so secret things I like about her.

Huh.

I notice then that I’m tilting my head at her in confusion, and it's probably that odd expression that is keeping her from closing her silver-gray eyes.

So I clear my throat, and adjust my expression. Give her another reassuring smile. Her hand clenches the fabric of the jacket tightly, and she looks like she wants to say something.

“Won’t you be cold?” She asks, voice slightly slurred, as if her thoughts are muddled. I’m actually glad to be free of the thing. I was overwarm, here inside her house but hadn’t noticed yet, my mind too preoccupied with Katniss and her injuries.

“Don’t worry about the jacket, I’ll borrow something to walk home in.” I say, trying to reassure her again.

“No!” She nearly yelps, hand darting out to grab the edge of shirt.

“Please don’t go.” She implores needlessly. My feet are already moving, not towards the door, though.  My hands pull out the chair her mother had been sitting in an hour ago. I plop myself down without ceremony, gathering her small, cold hand in my own and clenching it fiercely. She must be cold because of the snow they had to put on her back, but better to be cold and numb than for her to actually feel the stripes of pure fire the lash cut into her skin.

I remind myself to be gentle, to softly, slowly rub warmth back into her hand, her arm, to stop clinging to her like--like--

But she is the most important thing in my entire world. And I’ve never been very good at hiding that. So at her kitchen table, with her back shredded, and her hand clasped in mine, I stop trying to hide it.

My cheeks grow wet with the unshed tears I’ve been holding back for what feels like forever and I say, “Please, don’t scare me like that again. You have no idea what would happen to me, if something happened to you.” I practically beg, in a wrecked voice.

Her voice is thick with sleep, but her hand is steady and impossibly gentle as she brushes away a tear, near my swollen eye. “I think I might.” She says in a sad voice.

We stare at each other unblinking, revealed to each other just a little more in this raw, and painful moment. Why is it that all of our deepest interactions are marred by danger, tragedy, or pain? I muse internally, as her hand finds its way back to mine.

“Then you know, I’d be a disaster. Without you.” I say, laying myself bare, and not caring at the moment how vulnerable I sound, how much it could end up hurting later, to be this honest. We’re both hurt, and bleeding, from everything that's happened today. Hell, from what’s happened in the past year.

There’s no use pretending with her.

“Then stay, and I’ll try my best, not to get into any more trouble.” She says in a voice that sounds surprised. As if she wasn’t expecting the words to come out of her mouth. Almost as surprised  as I feel actually hearing her say something like that to me out loud. But my response is quick, instinctual, I don’t even have to think about it.

“Of course,” The words are automatic. The way my feet are always automatically rushing towards her, hand automatically reaching for her. Like a compass pointing north. Like the earth rotating on its axis. Firmly established in its immutability.

“Always.” I add, because it doesn’t matter if she only wants me for comfort, as a constant. As if she knows I can do nothing but say yes to her, and anything she asks of me. An unfailingly predictable phenomenon. Like the sun rising in the east.

If it's only for tonight, this one moment in time, that she wants me, then here I’ll be. By her side, because there’s no digging this girl out of me. I’ve tried, and she will not budge. She knows she owns me, heart and soul, and here she is claiming me when she has no business doing so. When she should be receiving comfort from another, more acceptable source.

But that’s just another thing I love about her. Her absolute disregard for how things should be done.

Most people don’t go volunteering for the Games to save their little siblings, no matter how much they love them. Or running headlong into obvious danger to save half dead boys they hardly know. Or outwitting gamemakers with a handful of berries when they try to go back on their word. But Katniss Everdeen isn't like most people.

If she was, maybe I wouldn’t be so hopelessly lost at the thought of life without her near permanent scowl, or the firm press of her calloused fingertips, tracing invisible patterns into my palm.

“Mmm,” She murmurs, incoherent. She’s quickly being dragged under by exhaustion and the promise of sleep.

I lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead, lingering just a little.

Come morning this might all just be a hazy, morphing induced dream to her.

But right now, she needs me.

And I have never felt as alive as in these moments. When fate and circumstance conspire to make Katniss Everdeen reachable, and dare I say, attainable.

Yes, tomorrow it will be as if none of this ever happened. I’ll wake up and remember that she didn’t mean anything she said. It was just the medicine. Just the newest near death experience to add to the alarmingly fast growing list we’re compiling together.

But there’s a part of me that still wishes I could stop time and exist in this one moment.

My heart full of her halfhearted promise to try and stay alive, for my sake, and her hand dragging my mine closer, her lips pressing an unconscious kiss to my buzzing skin, as she nuzzles her face against my palm, and the rest of the world forgotten.

Forgotten, like all that matters is this.

And maybe that’s all that really does matter. That when it came down to it, it was my name she called, my hand that she reached for.

That in these crazy, unpredictable situations we keep finding ourselves in, we are for each other.

We stand unapologetically, unequivocally, together, despite whatever comes.

In that undeniable fact, I take comfort, and in the undisturbed, even breaths she takes as she sleeps, safe here by my side, finally.

[shawtuzi]

Peaches and Coconut Pt 2

here is part two i can't believe i already made a second part but i did it for the culture. this is the filthiest thing i’ve ever written and possibly read like it is something..... i can’t even name half the warnings but I'll try. i linked part 1 at the end of the post btw <3

minors dni obvi 18+ content warnings include: brief mention of church, exhibitionism if you squint, sex in a car, so much squirting and a couple creampies, threesome kinda??, oral sex (male and female receiving), cum eating, dom!eren and slightly sub!jean bc i love me some subby jean. that's all i can name rn but just know it’s nasty.  word count: 6k+

Growing up you were always a sheltered little girl. Homeschooled from ages 5 to 18 you had basically no social life whatsoever, and you think your parents secretly liked it but there was one person you knew who absolutely adored it: Eren. He was borderline obsessed with your innocence, and wasn’t shy to show it either. Even with the disgusting sinful things you’ve done together he still treats you like you’re the purest thing that’s ever walked this planet.

Even with the numerous pictures of you with cum all over your face/tits/ass/stomach he has in his phone, or the videos of you sucking his cock pretty doe eyes staring right into the camera, orrr the videos of you squirting all over him legs shaking and your lower body soaked with your cum he still treated you like his little angel. You never minded it one bit though if it made Eren happy to call you his ‘innocent baby” it made you ecstatic.

You’ve been seeing Eren for two months and you two have been practically joined at the hip, wherever Eren went you followed suit clinging to his strong bicep with a smile on your face. Your parents never questioned anything so happy their daughter caught the eye of the pastor's son; the perfect couple they would always call you when your families ate dinner together. While they gushed about how you two were a match made in heaven Erens fingers would be stuffed in your panties toying with your wet pussy while you just sat trying not to bring attention to yourself even more.

Everyday after he got out of school you would walk to Paradis High to watch him at football practice blowing him kisses every now, and then and him being the sucker he was blowing them back making you giggle. He would drive you home hand on your thigh the entire way then giving you a mindblowing makeout session that would leave you breathless and your panties damp.

On nights your parents let you stay out a little later than usual with him you two would be behind the church in the parking lot fucking like rabbits. It was your favorite time of the week being able to be skin to skin with your boyfriend with no parents, no distractions, just the two of you embracing each other's company in the dirtiest way possible.

“Fuck Y/N I’m gonna cum if you keep bouncing on my dick like that” Eren groaned throwing his head back in pleasure. His hair once down due to you taking out his bun, loving the way his soft brown locks felt between your fingers. “Oh Eren oh my gosh, c-can I cum please l-let me cum” you cried wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, “I c-can’t hold it” you whimpered burying your face into his neck your salty tears wetting in. You were squeezing him so fucking tight it felt like you were suffocating his cock, the loud squelching of your pussy along with the soft bounces of the car being the only thing heard.

“Oh but you were just begging me to stop, princess what changed?” he taunted running his hands up and down your sides before roughly slapping your ass making you jolt. You and Eren had been here for quite some time. He already made you cum four times and tried for a fifth until you begged and begged for him to stop, but as always your pleas fell on deaf ears Eren taking the lead bouncing you on his fat cock himself. “F-feels good now ‘wanna make you cum again daddy” you whined, grinding your hips against him, your eyes fluttering shut feeling him touch what he called your “special spot”.  He came in you twice already and you swear this is the fullest you’ve ever felt, how he had much stamina? The world may never know but you didn’t give a single fuck.

Eren growled at your words gripping your chin roughly, “open” he demanded and you happily complied sticking your tongue out knowing what was going to happen. He spit on your tongue and you swallowed beaming proudly at him, “one more please? You know I love when you do that” you pouted, batting your lashes at him. “Jesus you’re fucking filthy” he muttered gripping your face with both hands lightly slapping your cheek, “but you’re my filthy girl yeah?” he smiled sticking his thumb in your mouth groaning when you started sucking it.

“Mhmm love you so much ‘Rennie, ‘wanna be your girl forever” you whispered, placing multiple kisses on his warm palm (he loves when you do that btw). “Can’t wait to graduate and be with you forever” you sighed dreamily drunk on his cock. While you were babbling out your love to him, too distracted and cockdrunk to function, Eren continued to move your body up and down on his cock his dick twitching at your words. He loved when you talked about your future together, Eren would move mountains to make you happy and he’d knows you’d do the exact same. You were perfect together.

“Yeah angel? Wanna be my wife? Carry my babies?” he grunted slamming your body down roughly making you squeal, “yes yes yes! Please don’t stop Eren. I'm cumming please let me cum!” you cried out feeling your stomach tighten your release approaching quickly.

“Cum.”

It was a simple request and you obeyed no problem, your eyes crossing as you squirted all over his cock soaking the leather beneath you, but Eren didn’t care he never did.  “Thats right- fuck look at you so fucking pretty squirting all over me. Look at my pretty baby” he cooed, stroking your back as you fell limp in his arms, your legs twitching. “Please cum in me” you whimpered, reaching your hands up to tangle in his hair, you lifted your head attaching your lips to his pulse point sucking softly just how he liked. He moaned loudly at your words wrapping his arms around your waist pounding into you roughly. “O-oh fuck I’m cumming- shit” he groaned stilling his movements cumming inside you. You sighed happily feeling his cum fill you once again, you loved how warm you felt afterwards so when he began to pull out you were less than thrilled stopping him as he was about to pull the tip out. “W-wait! Let’s just sit here a minute” you pouted, poking out your bottom lip. How could he say no to that?

“Mmm okay but just for a little bit angel we gotta get you home” he smiled, setting you down again groaning softly when he felt your warmth envelope him again. The two of you sat there, your head resting on Erens chest listening to his heartbeat while he gently stroked your sides, mumbling out praises of how well you took him and how much he loved you. “Actually there is something I wanted to talk to you about,” he spoke softly, caressing your messy hair. “Mhm?” you mumbled tracing your fingers up and down his toned stomach.  “You know how we’ve been ‘experimenting’?”

How could you forget? Ever since your first time with Eren you were both sex crazed not being able to keep your hands off each other. It was pretty normal stuff at first; trying out different positions, teaching you how to masturbate whenever he’s not around to help you, throat training you to take his cock with ease. You know pretty normal stuff. But it gradually increased of course. You know that night Eren played with your pussy at the table? That was your first exhibition experience and although you almost combusted in front of your parents you loved every second of it.

You’d never tell him but your favorite place to do it was the place he took your virginity; the church. Along with exhibitionism you also loved when the two of you filmed sex tapes. You were a little hesitant at first but once Eren showed you a video he took of you two boy were you hooked. You could listen to Eren’s pretty moans on repeat, and you have fingers stuffed in your cunt as you did so.

“Angel?”

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt Eren shake your shoulder slightly, “I lost you for a sec. You okay baby? Was I too rough?” he asked, grabbing your face in his large hands stroking your tear stained cheeks. You quickly shook your head reassuring him, “no no ‘Rennie I’m fine just thinking about our…experimenting” you giggled pressing a kiss to his palm. You felt him physically relax when you did that and he smiled squishing your cheeks together. “Don’t scare me like that again” he chuckled, pressing a wet kiss to your lips making you groan. “Gross. You’re gross” you mumbled wiping your lips with the back of your hand, “now continue with what you were gonna say silly” you teased. “I’m getting to it, don't worry, and don’t wipe away my kisses again ever” he said smacking your ass roughly making you gasp. He could be so mean sometimes :(.

“Now as I was saying before my girlfriend wandered into outer space” he teased, pinching your side. “You know how we were watching porn the other night and you got so needy and wet watching two guys play and have their way with a girl?” he asked softly and you nodded feeling your cheeks heat up. He chuckled, feeling you clench around him, “you were so needy you were practically humping my thigh, I still have the panties from that night you soaked them baby” he said in the sickeningly sweet voice that always made you shiver. “Yes ‘Ren I remember” you whined, adjusting yourself in his lap.

“Well how would you like to do it for real?” he whispered, trailing his fingers up your chest to cup your breast grazing his finger over your hardening nipple. You bit your lip softly pondering in your head. Were you actually considering this? “Just think angel me and another guy pleasing you, playing with your pussy, filling you up. You thought I made you feel full just wait until there’s two of us” he groaned feeling his cock harden inside of you at the image of you sucking his cock while getting fucked by one of his friends, controlling both of your orgasms.

“Mmm ‘Rennie” you whimpered, resting your forehead against his as you slowly grinded on his lap. You were far too tired to ride him so you depended on him to take the lead this round but he wasn’t budging, “p-please move Eren” you whined making him laugh. “Say yes and I’ll fuck you angel. I’ll fuck you so hard and send you back to your parents stuffed with all my cum, just say yes baby” he whispered gripping your thighs when he felt you clench at his words. “O-okay yes! Yes ‘Ren you and your friend can use me all you want just please move” your words brought a smile to his face and he complied planting his feet before fucking up into you with all his might.

When Eren dropped you off at home you were a twitching mess, panties soaked with a mixture of his and your cum. “Tomorrow tell your parents we’re going to be at my house studying. I’ll pick you up after practice” he smiled lovingly at you giving you one, two, three pecks on your lips. You nodded and gave him a warm hug, as always he nuzzled his face into your neck inhaling your sweet scent of peaches and coconuts. His entire car smelled like it and he couldn’t be more content about it. He laughed watching you wobble into your house finally leaving when you turned around and shooed him away.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3<3

You were on edge the entire day, nervous and excited for what Eren had in store for you, whatever it was you knew you would like it he always made sure you did. At six fifteen Eren pulled in front of your house, you practically ran to the car, your adrenaline through the roof. “Hey baby” Eren greeted you gripping your chin bringing you in for a sweet kiss. “Mmm hi ‘Rennie” you smiled, hearts practically appearing in your eyes. Your brain always turned to mush when you were around him and you hated it, even though you absolutely loved when he called you his ‘dumb little baby’ while he fucked you dumb.

The entire drive Eren had his hand on your thigh squeezing it softly every now and again. “Where are we going?” you asked, placing your hand on top of his toying with the silver band on his middle finger. “You remember Jean, right angel?” he asked, glancing over at you, you nodded already having a nervous feeling in your stomach. “Well guess who’s gonna be experimenting with us tonight.” Your eyes widened at his words, “really but I thought you didn’t like him because of that one day” you mumbled referring to the day he sent Jean away on a quest for party decorations while he fucked you silly.

“Jean and I are friends I just don’t like when he tries to take things that are mine” Eren said, squeezing your thigh possessively. “But after a little talking I figured I could let him have a little taste with my supervision of course. Someone has to remind him who you belong to right baby?” he queried and you nodded quickly squeezing your thighs at his words. “O-of course Eren m’all yours” you said, bringing his hand to your lips pressing a kiss to it. “Good girl, that's what I like to hear.”

Eren pulled in front of a large house and looked at you, “look at me” he said, taking your hands in his brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. You looked into his moss green eyes knowing that look. He knew you were nervous. “If you’re uncomfortable in the slightest even while we’re having sex you tell me and we’ll leave okay? I know you wanna make me happy but you being safe and comfortable is above everything promise me Y/N” he said and you smiled feeling your worries melt away. “I promise ‘Rennie.”

The two of you walked to the door hand in hand, Eren rang the doorbell and Jean appeared with a bright smile on his face. “Y/N it’s so good to see you!” he smiled bringing you in for a hug which you happily returned. Jean was always nice, greeting you whenever he saw you at football practice and at church. If only you knew he fucked his fist to the thought of you everday since he heard you and Eren going at it in the church basement. Your pretty, breathy moans replying like a broken record in his head. When Eren suggested the idea of a threesome he had to contain his excitement, afraid of getting punched in the face. But there were a couple rules before the plan was set in motion:

“Rule one” Eren said in a stern tone, “ kissing is allowed but no hickeys anywhere.” “Rule two don’t cum in her pussy that is Eren access only okay horseface?” Jean nodded, rolling his eyes, “can I cum on her at least?” he asked, ready to dodge a punch Eren might send his way. Eren nodded slowly, “On her or in her mouth and absolutely no spitting in her mouth even if she begs you, once again Eren access only. Oh and you have to wear a condom. I'm the only one who gets to hit it raw.” “Rule three and this is the most important rule; if she says stop at all you stop and get the fuck away from her until she tells me she’s okay got it?” he asked, cocking his head to the side, a deadly glare in his eyes. “Yes of course the last thing I want is for her to be uncomfortable, you have my word.”

Fast forward to today Jean was prepared and ready condoms on deck for your guys’ eventful night. He ushered the two of you into his house bringing you to his room where everything from towels, to water bottles, to lube sat neatly on his desk. You were suddenly feeling nervous again staring at the two big men in front of you as they made small talk. Eren sat on Jean’s bed and glanced at you giving you a small smile, “angel c’mere” he said patting the spot next to him “I have a good way to help you relax but you have to trust me ‘kay?” he asked and you nodded slowly confused as to where this was going.

Jean rummaged through his desk drawer finally pulling out a small container. When he opened it you let out a tiny gasp peeking inside, “is that marijuana?” you asked looking over at Eren and he nodded grabbing an already pre rolled blunt from the container. He could already sense the hesitation in your face and offered you a reassuring smile. “Jean fuck off for a second” he said not taking his eyes off you, and Jean was about to protest but quickly left the room once Eren gave him the look.

“I know you’re nervous but I promise this is gonna help you relax, you trust me right Y/N?” he asked and you nodded “of course I trust you more than anything” you said making him smile even wider. He grabbed a lighter from his pocket and lit the blunt smoke immediately traveling around the large room. He exhaled the funny smelling smoke, then took another big hit, suddenly bringing you in for a kiss exhaling it into your mouth. You held the smoke in your mouth unsure of what to do next making Eren chuckle, “inhale it baby” he whispered stroking your thigh. You did as you were told and holy shit this didn’t feel too bad. If your parents saw you right now they’d probably roll into their graves but you didn’t care greedily asking Eren if you could have some more.

After a couple more hits you felt good, a little too good. With the combination of Eren stroking your thigh and praising you for handling the weed like a champ it wasn’t long before you felt yourself start to get uncomfortably wet. Eren noticed you rubbing your thighs together and smirked, “that’s it baby just keep smoking it, Jean get in here!” he called out and not even a second later Jean appeared “you guys started without me?!” he whined making Eren roll his eyes. “Y/N needed a little practice, isn't that right my love?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the side of your head and you nodded eyes red and lidded, your mind feeling incredibly hazy. “I feel funny ‘Rennie” you whined moving your thighs together not even caring Jean was right there. “Mmm you’re just high baby we’re about to make you feel so fucking good, isn’t that right Jean?” he asked, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

You whimpered, taking his thumb into your mouth, sucking softly on it. Eren took the blunt from your shaking fingers and took a big hit blowing the smoke into your face. You didn’t know if it was the drugs or what but he looked so pretty. His hair was in a messy bun as usual along with his usual attire which consisted of a hoodie and sweatpants, his eyes were red and lidded and he had that look in his eye. The same look he always gave you before he ravaged you. After the blunt was done being passed around the three of you you were insanely horny slick making your thighs sticky under your skirt.

“Look at my poor needy baby, you ready for some fun sugar?” he asked and you nodded slowly. He scooted back on the bed and placed you between his legs with easy immediately slipping his hand under your skirt. “Fuck Jean she’s so wet” Eren chuckled darkly rubbing your clit over your panties making you whine arching your back into his chest, “and so so sensitive I’m barely even touching her” he rasped pressing kisses along the column of your neck. “Wanna see?”

Jean nodded, pulling his computer chair in front of the two of you watching closely as Eren flipped up your skirt revealing your soaked panties. “Holy shit” he whispered, making your face heat up. “You want Jean to touch you baby?” he asked caressing your folds over your panties and you nodded. “Ah ah ah use your words and ask nicely” he demanded, lightly slapping your pussy making you jolt. “O-okay Jean…” you mumbled looking at him eyes red and glossed over. Jean groaned feeling his dick twitch at you saying his name. “Shit- yeah baby?” he asked, palming himself over his pants. “P-please touch me” you whimpered, spreading your legs giving him an even better view.

Jean didn’t need to be told twice as he made his way over kneeling before you in all your glory. “May I?” he asked and you nodded, lifting your hips so he could slide your panties off. “Jesus” he groaned seeing your soaked pussy on full display desperately aching to be touched. “She’s beautiful isn’t she? Prettiest pussy on the fucking planet” Eren said whispering the last part into your ear. Jean was in a trance, you truly were beautiful in all ways but god damn your pussy was something else, “yeah she’s pretty” he mumbled to himself bringing his middle finger up to slide through your soaked slit “and so fucking wet.”

“Jean please!” you cried tears brimming your eyes the sexual frustration becoming too much for you to handle. “You heard her horseface eat my girls pussy before I have to show you how it’s done” Eren growled cupping your breasts over your shirt. Jean licked his lips before diving in, licking a long, bold stripe up your sopping cunt making you cry out. He was eating you like a man starved your wetness coating his mouth, chin, and nose. He was switching between suckling on your swollen clit and fucking you with his tongue making your legs shake. “Put a finger in Jean. My baby loves getting her pussy played with, isn't that right angel?” You nodded his words going in one ear and out the other. Jean listened to Eren’s request pushing his index and middle finger in your cunt making your eyes roll back.

Eren laughed lifting up your sweater letting your exposed breasts fall out. “No bra? Who knew you could be such a slut?” he smirked, pinching your nipples causing you to squeal. “Does that feel good? Am I doing good?” Jean asked looking up at you and the sight alone could’ve made you cum. He looked so handsome with your wetness making the bottom half of his face shine. “Y-yes Jean feels so good don’t stop” you whined pushing his face towards your pussy once more. The combination of Jean fingering and licking your pussy along with Eren playing with your tits had you cumming within seconds, your cum soaking the bed and some of Jean’s face.

Although you had already came Jean was still lapping at your pussy making your legs shake, “J-jean” you mumbled trying to push his head away but your pleas fell on deaf ears. Eren could hear though and roughly grabbed Jean by his hair making him wince, “what did I say?” Eren asked quirking an eyebrow. Jean gulped, staring right into his green eyes, “i-if she says stop move away, b-but she just tasted so good I couldn’t help myself” he mumbled pouting slightly. Eren found it kind of cute, he’d never seen Jean so submissive willing to obey his every command just to get a taste of his girlfriend's sweet pussy. “Aw poor Jean’s already addicted to your pussy. Too bad this is the only time he’ll get to touch it” he laughed and Jean’s eyes widened and he was about to protest until Eren interrupted him, “but I suppose if you’re good and treat Y/N like the goddess she is maybe I’ll let you two have fun again but let’s not worry about that now” he said eyeing the bulge in Jeans pants.

“Baby?” Eren whispered, stroking your arm, “I say it’s time you repay Jean for eating you out so good huh?” he cooed and you nodded making a beautiful smile grace his face. Jean was staring at the two of you in awe at the love and adoration in Eren’s eyes as he spoke to you. “Jean switch places with me and sit on the bed. Y/N you know what to do” Eren commanded and the two of you scrambled at his request Jean sitting on the bed pulled his pants down leaving him only wearing his boxers that were seriously straining his dick. Before you kneeled on the hardwood floor Eren placed a pillow beneath so to prevent you from bruising your knees, you smiled gratefully at him giving him a little peck before turning your attention back to Jean. “Y-you ready?” you asked palming him over his boxers causing him to groan. “Yeah, yeah I’m ready- fuck” he mumbled giving you a small smile.

You removed his boxers allowing his cock to slap against his toned stomach. He wasn’t as thick as Eren but in length he was a little longer. His dick was pretty, you couldn’t lie the sight alone made you want to touch yourself. “Go on angel show him what you can do” you heard Eren’s voice from behind you, you didn’t have to look to know that she had a shit eating grin on his face. You licked from the base to the tip of Jean’s cock looking into his eyes the entire time. “O-oh shit” he groaned, clenching his fists, his knuckles turning white. You hummed before taking the tip in your mouth slowly lowering your head until his cock was halfway in your mouth. Jean was like putty in your hands and you actually enjoyed sorta being the dominant one for once but Eren wasn’t having it.

Without warning you felt someone push your head down making you gag. You tried to look up as best as you could thinking it was Jean, but his hands were by his side, head thrown back in pure bliss. “You think you’re the one in charge? That’s cute but I’m calling the shots angel and I want you to suck Jean’s cock until he cums” Eren growled, pushing your head further down until your nose was pressed against Jean's pubic bone. You tried to follow Eren’s command but your mind was so hazy you could barely think let alone move your head, the sight made Eren tisk shaking his head. “Does my dumb baby need me to show her how to suck dick again?” he asked in a teasing tone and you nodded whimpering loudly.

Eren smirked and grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail before guiding your movements. One hand was in your hair and the other was wrapped around your throat feeling the bulge from Jean’s cock. It was all too much for Jean he’d never seen anything so fucking hot in his life he could already feeling his release approaching. “I-I’m gonna cum- fuck make me cum Y/N please make cum” Jean cried out. You weakly reached your hand up to play with his balls (something Eren taught you <3) and that’s what did it, Jean thighs tensed as he came ribbons of cum filling your mouth.

You hummed taking your mouth off Jeans cock the tip leaving your mouth with a pop. “You know what to do baby” Eren whispered and you did as you were told sticking your tongue out to show Jean. Eren grabbed your throat once again bringing you in for a kiss groaning at the taste of Jean’s cum on your tongue. “Not too bad Kirstein” Eren chuckled, patting Jean roughly on the thigh. Jean couldn’t even speak he was starstruck. Never in his life had he seen something so disgusting, so vulgar, you can’t even find this shit on the hub.

Eren stood up taking his seat back on the computer chair. He was painfully hard precum wetting the front of his boxers. “Mmm Jean” you purred, kissing his thighs, “wanna feel you in my stomach” you whispered looking up at him. Good fucking lord. “E-eren would you…” he trailed off nodding towards the box of condoms on his desk. He didn’t dare take his eyes off you, you were a dream and now he sees why Eren couldn’t get enough. He used to think it was a little much when he would hear the two of you going at it in the storage closet at the church or in the bathroom but, oh does he understand now.

“Make it count because once you cum you’re done” Eren said tossing him a condom. Jean ripped the foil with his teeth and was about to roll it on until you stopped him, “I wanna put it on you” you whispered giving him your famous doe eyes and Jean swear he could’ve busted right there on your pretty face. “Fuck okay, okay here” he rasped handing you the condom. You smiled and rolled it on his cock slowly smiling at the blissed out look on his face. “You’re so big Jean and you have such a pretty dick.  Doesn’t he, Eren?” you asked and Eren hummed in response. “Not as pretty as mine though right?” he chuckled, making you roll your eyes. You stood turning to face Eren, “c’mere ‘Rennie” you smiled motioning for him to join you and Jean.

He raised a brow and walked over, setting his hands on your waist, “you good baby? Do we need to leave?” he asked concern, lacing his voice and you shook your head bunching your skirt up to your waist. “No just wanna make you feel good while I ride him” you smiled pecking his soft lips. You lowered yourself onto Jean slowly, your back facing him. He took this as an opportunity to bury his pitiful moans in your sweet smelling hair gasping at how warm and tight you were. “S-shit Eren you guys fuck everday how is she so fucking t-tight” Jean groaned gripping your waist roughly. You whimpered, resting your forehead against Erens body, adjusting to Jeans cock. God he was so big you felt him in your throat.

“Feel good angel?” Eren asked, lifting your head. You looked completely fucked. Eyes hooded and bloodshot, lips swollen and raw from biting them so much. If this meant you were going to hell you’d spend eternity there because nothing and I mean NOTHING could stop you from what you were about to do. “Mhm I feel so good ‘Rennie ‘wanna make you feel even better” you purred pulling his sweats and boxers down revealing his aching cock, he hissed from the cool air hitting his sensitive tip. You giggled and wasted no time taking him fully in your mouth while also grinding down on Jean, his cock poking at your g-spot.

“Fuuuck Y/N” Eren moaned, grabbing both sides of your head with his hands. He showed no mercy, fucking your face with all his might. At the same time Jean took charge as well gripping your hips and bouncing you on his cock whispering praises in your ear. “God you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this Y/N” he whined resting his forehead on your shoulder, “been jerking off to you everyday imagining how you’d feel on my dick this is so much better than I could’ve imagined” he moaned grabbing your tits in his large hands kneading them roughly.

These men were treating you like a fucktoy and you loveddd it. Drool and tears falling down your face onto your breasts and Jeans hands. Eren pulled his cock out of your mouth with a pop tapping it against your lips making you giggle. “Look at my girl you’ve got Jean completely fucked out m’so proud of you baby” he praised sliding his cock back between your lips. You moaned at the praises coming from both men, the squelching of your sopping pussy getting louder and louder. “Oh fuck man I think she’s about to cum” Jean groaned feeling your wetness drip down his balls.

“Fuck her harder and watch what happens” Eren smirked and your eyes widened already knowing where this was going. Jean planted his feet and fucked up into you as hard as he could cursing loudly. You tried to pull off of Eren’s cock but he held your head in place continuing to fuck your throat. You whined loudly digging your nails into Eren’s muscly thigh. “O-oh shit oh my god” Jean moaned as you squirted all over his cock, making a mess on his thighs. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you convulsed around Jean's dick squeezing him impossibly tight.

“That’s a good girl let it all out” Eren cooed as you continued to ride your high out, Jean still fucking into with brute force. “I’m cumming- oh fuck Y/N you feel so good why are you so fucking tight I-” Jean buried his head into your shoulder as he came into the condom his legs shaking pathetically. Eren chuckled at the sight of the two of you. Jean with arms wrapped weakly around your body, face hidden in your hair, and you looking up at him with pleading eyes, legs still twitching every now and then from your previous orgasm. “Mmm I’m gonna cum-fuck. You ready for me baby?” he asked and you nodded your head as best as you could, eyes beaming.

You thought he was going to cum in your mouth but instead he pulled his cock out and came all over your exposed chest. “Jean” Eren spoke and Jean lifted his head up looking extremely tired and maybe a little adorable, a small pout on his face.

“Clean up her chest.”

His eyes widened at the request making Eren laugh, “I tried yours it’s only fair…unless you don’t  wanna play with me and Y/N again” he fake pouted. “Don’t worry Jean he tastes good” you smiled scooping some up with your finger sucking on it, making Jean's breath hitch. Jean turned you towards him and began licking up all cum on your chest lightly moaning at the taste. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d be licking his friends cum off of his pretty girl but here he was doing it, and fucking loving it.

You laughed running your fingers through Jean's hair before giving him a sloppy kiss tasting Eren’s cum on his tongue. “Okay okay that’s enough” Eren huffed tucking himself back in his sweats, “get dressed Y/N I’m starving” he said giving you the look. You quickly got off of Jean’s lap but you should’ve taken it nice and easy because your legs quickly gave out on you, and if it wasn't for Eren’s quick reflexes you would’ve had bruised knees that he’d insist he has to kiss to make the pain go away.

As you were reaching for your panties Eren stopped you snatching them from your hand. “Here” he said, tossing them to Jean with a smirk on his face, “something to remember us by” he chuckled before wrapping his arm around your waist guiding you to the front door.

Jean sighed loudly, falling back against his mattress. He wasn’t really going to keep these was he? The answer is yes he did and as soon as he heard you and Eren leave he wrapped your still wet panties around his half hard cock jerking himself off until the sunrise, the faint smell of coconut and peaches lingering in his room.

<3

@the-princess-button

Part 1 right here ^

[elcondorpasas]

HAPPY TO OBLIGE | eddie munson x female!oc

summary a snapshot of a night between eddie and his favorite girl

warnings 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS smut [fingering, squirting, breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex], language, fluff, not proof read

a/n this is just a quick smutty snippet from a much larger work i'm working on with eddie x ofc. can be read as a stand alone and even as a eddie x reader if you omit ofc's name and replace with your own :) enjoy! (this is actually the first smut i've ever written, so be gentle)

cross listed on ao3 here

Eddie’s deft fingers moved quickly back and forth on the small bundle of nerves eliciting a low whine from Leah, whose hips began to lift off the bed. “Fuck, Eddie. Please.” She whimpered. Eddie smirked and looked up at her. “Please what, baby?” He cooed. Leah’s face contorted in a mix of pain and pleasure. Her need to release grew. “God, fuck! Please let me cum. Please please please…” Her sense of the world was being left behind as she chased her pleasure, her orgasm building. Eddie loved seeing her like this. How lost she’d get trying to find release as he’s playing with her cunt. But she wouldn’t cum until he wanted her to.

“Aw, baby. You’re gonna need to beg better than that.” Eddie laughed breathlessly. He kept up this façade, while he needed to rut his hips down onto the bed for some sort of friction. He’d cum before from just watching his girl reach get off on his fingers – he wasn’t planning on doing it again. Leah was practically panting, moaning out, “Eddie, baby please let me cum. Please, I need it. I’ve been a good girl. Let me cum!” Her eyes screwed shut. Eddie had her right where he wanted her.

Without even answering, Eddie used his other hand to insert two thick fingers into Leah’s dripping core. They quickly found the spongey area that’d be the source of what his girl was asking for. He set a rhythm of rubbing her clit and massaging Leah’s g spot. Leah’s moans grew louder, and Eddie thanked God above that his Uncle had picked up an extra shift meaning he wasn’t home and Leah could be as loud as she wanted. Leah’s pants grew and Eddie heard the telltale sound of her release. Eddie watched the wetness dripping out of her cunt onto the bed beneath her, his gaze turning hungry. Finally, after a moment or two more of his rhythmic ministrations, Leah moaned his name louder than she had that entire night as she found her release.

Due to his proximity, Eddie felt the liquid on his hands and bottom half of his face as Leah’s squirt gushed all over him. He felt his cock twitch with want. “You are so fucking hot…. give me some more, baby. I wanna taste you.” Eddie muttered in a daze. His fingers massaging Leah’s clit picked up faster and she squirted more than before. Eddie quickly opened his mouth to catch some before pulling his fingers away and leaning further in to lick her cunt clean. Leah began squirming and trying to push his face away. “Eddie, no! Please, too much!”

Barely satisfied, Eddie pulled away. “You are so beautiful. You always taste so good. I could lick your pretty pussy for hours.”

“Eddie, you’ve already been at it for almost an hour, you dork.” Leah laughed, out of breath and trying to ground herself after orgasming.

“You good? Or do you need a minute?” Eddie asked, snapping from his daze to inspect Leah and make sure she was coming down alright and could handle more.

Leah nodded, “I’m okay, baby. I’d be a lot better if you’d get that pretty cock out and fuck me.”

Eddie would never not react to his girl’s bold lewdness in the bedroom and neither would his dick, which jumped at the thought of being inside her. “Always happy to oblige my lady.” He smirked. Eddie stood from the bed and removed what remaining pieces of clothes he had on, which after an intense make out session really wasn’t much save for his underwear and socks. Pulling down his underwear, his cock stood erect. It was red and angry, needing release. The smallest droplets of pre-cum glistened on his tip.

“Condom?”

“No. I’m on birth control.” Leah shook her head.

Eddie paused. “Isn’t that only partially effective?”

“Christ, Eddie, I need you in me and I need to feel you. Just pull out or something.” Leah spat.

“Playing with fire there, babe.” Eddie wasn’t unsure that he couldn’t pull out in time. They had done it before when condoms were unobtainable. However, a brief pregnancy scare last fall had Eddie on the rocks about attempting unprotected sex again. They were both clean, that didn’t concern him. And, he guesses, it wouldn’t be so bad to be a dad one day. But he thinks he would like to graduate from high school first. Christ, he was pushing 21. He couldn’t hang around Hawkins High for forever just selling drugs to underclassmen.

But Hell, if he thought about it long enough, he actually wouldn’t mind being a dad in the near future. Especially if it was Leah beside him. Their kid. He figures putting up with Henderson and the rest of the freshman brats had prepared him somewhat for watching over ankle biters, but he never quite knew where Leah stood on the equation. Leah had been sort of an enigma to him. He knew she had issues with her family, unsettling issues that made him wish he could take all that pain and heartache away, but she never flat out dismissed the idea of having a family the one time it was brought up in passing.

The Wheeler kid mentioned offhand how Eddie and Leah’s offspring would be the ultimate menace to society. Leah laughed and retorted that Wheeler had unveiled her evil plans to upend society as they knew it with an army of anti-establishment, non-confirming nerds. In truth, Leah had probably never thought about that conversation since it happened. But Eddie? Eddie, dreamed about it. The idea of Leah carrying his babies awoke something primal in him. There were times he’d fist his cock furiously thinking about stuffing her full of his cum, ensuring she’d conceive. How he’d get to watch her belly grow and her tits fill with milk. There were other times he chastised himself for thinking about her in such a way. But then he’d come to terms with it, because truly how different was it from his jerking off to the thought of her tits bouncing as she rode him?

“Earth to Munson. Are you there?”

Eddie snapped back from his thoughts and looked down. His heart fluttered at the sight. His favorite girl lying spread out for him to take, her cunt swollen and dripping from the previous orgasms he’d been more than happy to give her. His grin was back as he moved towards the bed and climbed over her.

“Hi.” She giggled.

Eddie’s heart soared and he responded, “Hey you.”

For a moment, they just stared at each other. It was Eddie who moved first, taking the chance to lean down and steal a kiss.

“I love you.” Leah blurted out. Eddie’s smile grew as he echoed the words back to her.

This wasn’t the first time they said I love you, but it was the first-time during sex oddly enough. Leah’s smile turned into a smirk as she reached down and guided Eddie’s cock to where she needed it most.

“Make love to me, Eddie.”

“Always happy to oblige.”

Eddie tentatively eased his cock into her pussy. Her warm, plush walls sucking him in further and further. He’d never get enough of her. Always so warm. So wet. Just for him. Leah’s moans filtered to his ears as she pulled him down to bury her face in the crook of his neck. Eddie eventually bottomed out and couldn’t stop the groan from escaping his mouth. “So fucking tight,” he gritted out. So tight. He gave her a moment to adjust and make sure she was okay before he started moving.

His pace was slow at first, languid thrusts to ensure his cock was coated with her slick. The glide was easy and he could feel her cunt pulsing every time he re-entered her. He moved back to pull her legs up onto his shoulders, allowing him to thrust deeper and hit that sweet spot inside her. Leah’s moans started up again. Her panting egged him on, “Yes, baby. Harder, cmon. Give it to me.”

Spurred by her words, Eddie picked up the pace. He set a rhythm and the sound of their skin slapping filled the small room, but it hardly did much to drown out Leah’s noisy whines. Eddie could cum purely off her sounds alone and he had many times during phone sex trial runs they did when she was unable to come by. His pace built and was relentless. He loved to hear how wet she was and the feeling of his balls slapping against her.

“Closer.”

Her words, or rather word, was so silent he almost missed it. But Eddie tried to remain alert and focused on Leah at all times to make sure she was enjoying herself as much as he is.

“What was that, baby?” He grunts out. He tried to focus on her request but struggled with the way her pussy was squeezing his cock in a vice grip.

“I want you closer, please” She pants out.

Eddie, always happy to make his girl happy, let Leah’s legs fall from his shoulders. Her arms reached up to his neck and pulled him down. Her legs wrapped around his torso. She buried her face in his neck again. The new position allowed for a more intimate moment and the emotions and feeling of their bodies moving together brought the two closer to the edge.

“You ready to cum again, sweetheart?” Eddie asked as sweetly as he could with his exertion of snapping his hips back and forth.

Leah nodded against his neck, “Please…God-“ She choked.

That’s all Eddie needs to really pick up his pace as he reached a hand down between them to rub at her clit. Moments pass as Leah’s breath gets more labored and her back arches off the bed. One last rub of her bud makes the coil in her stomach snap as she’s flooded with pleasure. Her walls clamp down onto Eddie’s cock and his vision almost goes entirely white. He was not able to control himself and he needed to pull out. Now. However, Leah’s legs wouldn’t let up and he was pulled flush against her.

“Baby- fuck. Leah, I need to pull o-“

“Inside me”

Eddie almost choked and it took everything in him to not paint her walls with him cum that very second.

“What?!”

“Please, baby.” Leah’s whines sounded like something out of the pornos he used to watch before he met Leah. Back when he thought he’d never get to make someone, much less someone he loved, feel this good.

Hanging by a thread, Eddie asked, “You’re- fuck. You’re sure?”

She nodded again and squeezed her legs around him. “Cum in me,” she begged.

That’s all it took for Eddie’s rhythm to lose all sense as his hips sputtered. His cum shot out of him and painted Leah’s walls white. Leah’s cunt pulsed with aftershocks of her orgasm and it became way too much for Eddie’s sensitive cock. He pulled out and fell on the bed beside her. The only sounds to be heard were their ragged breaths and the hum of the AC unit from the living room. They lied together soaking in the otherwise quietness.

Suddenly, Eddie moved, startling Leah who asked, “What are you doing?”

Eddie didn’t answer. He’d been selfishly waiting for this moment and he wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to document it. He clumsily bounded towards his closet, his legs feeling the strain from his previous activities, and pulled a polaroid camera from the top shelf.

“And just what do you plan on doing with that, Eddie?” Leah’s tone wasn’t serious. He’d taken naked photos of her before. He’d never share them with anyone, and she trusted him.

“Baby, just keep laying there. Nice and pretty.”

Eddie snapped a few angels of her lying naked in his bed. Then he went for the money shot. He climbed back onto the bed in front of Leah.

“Spread ‘em, babe.” He urged, using his knee to nudge her legs apart.

Leah obliged and spread her legs for him. Eddie leaned in closer with the camera. Without asking, Leah used her muscles to push a bit of his cum out of her hole, she shivered at the feeling of him leaking out of her. It felt so dirty, she blushed. Eddie snapped a few more photos and laid them out to develop. While they did, he set the camera aside and leaned back down to Leah’s core. He just stared at his cum leaking from her, mesmerized. Leah, tired, didn’t have the heart to make fun of him for how seemingly weird he was being. She figured they’ll need to have a serious conversation about this. But that could wait till tomorrow. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden intrusion of her cunt. Her eyes snapped open and looked down to see the perpetrator. Eddie’s fingers were gathering his cum that came out and pushed it back inside of her.

“Eddie!”

“What? I’m sorry…. you’re just- This was something I never thought I’d get to see. Let me have this.”

Leah rolled her eyes and lay there another minute or two while Eddie snapped out of his daze and began cleaning up a bit. He has class in the morning and if he planned to graduate, which he does, he needed to be there. On time.

Leah went to stand and found her legs were a little wobbly. She caught herself on the dresser and lightly brushed off Eddie who, while worried, took a sort of pride that he could give it to his girl so good that it affected her ability to walk. Leah excused herself to the restroom to pee and Eddie set out to change the sheets, throwing the dirty ones into a corner of his room. He’d deal with the laundry sooner or later. He dimmed the lights in his room and climbed into bed. Leah made her way back to Eddie’s room and slipped under the covers. She cozied her way into his side and he pulled her close, dropping a few kisses on her hair line as she buried her head in the crook of his neck.

“Goodnight, Eds”

“Goodnight, doll.”

[some-kindofgnome]

now everything is easy

do not interact with this post if you are under 18.

Katsuki wakes next to you the morning after your heat reaches its peak.

c: katsuki bakugou x reader

wc: 3.7k

cw: smut (18+), morning sex, subtle alpha/beta/omega dynamics (knotting, heat cycles,  descriptions of scent & slick), vaginal & oral sex, aftercare if you squint, katsuki is like lovingly disgruntled through most of this but he adores you i promise

notes: Bakugou lovers, what’s up? It’s been a minute... 😅I can’t BELIEVE how long it’s been since I’ve written about Bakugou. But I signed up to write him for a few collabs over the summer, so here’s my warmup. I think I did this trope wrong but he goes down on u so like that’s fun, right? 👀

(MASTERLIST)

Morning comes hot and sticky, drizzling like honey into Katsuki’s slowly waking mind.

For a long time, waking slowly like this seemed little more than a far-off dream, for the man who could never be caught off guard. Most days his eyes still spring open, fully alert to the sound of his six o’clock alarm. But when she needs him, he loses himself easily to her.

To you.

He’s not sure what time it is exactly, only that midmorning sun splashes obscenely across the mussed bedclothes, lighting up the soft green of the worn linen and the buttery eggshell-painted wall beyond. His muscles settle into a dutiful ache. His thighs are still a little stuck together. He kind of needs to piss.

But you, fragile and perfect with the dew of your leftover heat drying on your spine, are worth lingering for.

You’re still fast asleep as he rolls onto one hip, fresh scratches pulling and stinging in the muscles of his back. The sheet’s tucked haphazardly over the curve of your hip, but you’re sprawled on your side with your torso left carelessly bare.

He can’t help himself, leaning forward to bury his nose against your scent glands, pulling the strong reek of you into his head. Your scent is so easy to read- maple-sweet, fragrant like orange blossom and deliciously mingled with his own. Last night, he fucked you both into sheer exhaustion, and the sheets still waft puffs of your mingled scents with every shift of his body.

Still, you’ll be wanting more soon. He gives your petal-soft skin a devilish little nip, rolling away to stretch yesterday’s exertion from his tendons.

Before he can even shift to climb out of bed for the bathroom, you’re squirming beside him.

Too late.

Those long, peaceful breaths of sleepy silence quickly give way to strained little whimpers as your senses come back to you. Last night, your heat cycle had reached its peak. But after a full measure of sleep- and eight hours without the fill of your alpha- he knew this was coming.

“Alpha,” you keen, struggling with even one coherent word. Katsuki’s instincts flare to life while you wake up, fresh waves of your needy scent filling his head and bringing his alpha to the surface. His cock stirs greedily against one thigh, stiffening traitorously in response to your voice.

He sighs harshly, flopping back against the pillows. His jaw ticks, letting firm throbs of desire swell in his gut.

“Couldn’t even wait for me to take a piss, could you?” He growls, no shortage of affection in his rough tone. You’re already rolling over, tangling clumsy, slick thighs in the soiled sheets.

“Please,” you sigh. “One more. I need one more.”

“C’mere,” he grunts, palming your ass to bring you close. “Let me see you.”

Your flesh is hot and sticky beneath his touch, and he knows how badly you need him but he can’t help indulging. Not now, when you’re so pliable and needy for him. It’s cruel to think so, but he loves you most when you’re desperate like this. His mean streak doesn’t come for you very often, but he can’t help it. You’re so easy to tease, and so much cuter when you want something.

He slips between your thighs to quell your squirming, letting you settle onto your back. You spread your legs as far as they’ll go, staring up at him with that wide, vulnerable, irresistible expression you always get at this time in your cycle. It’s how can tell your heat’s coming, far before the changes to your scent. The first time you look up at him like this every season, he knows it’s all over.

Your thighs are still crusted with last night’s slick and dried remnants of cum, but when you spread them, long strings of fresh fluid break and drip onto the mattress. The warm slip of your sex is glistening already.

Katsuki decides in that moment that he’s going to take his time with you, whether you’re ready to wait for it or not.

“You feeling patient?” he chuckles, lip curling as he flicks his eyes back to yours. You’re still staring up at him like that, an extra flash of panic lighting your eyes when the word patient reaches your ears.

“W-what,” you plead. “N-no, please, just- now, just do it now…”

Your voice trails into a strangled little squeak of pleasure when he dips his head between your thighs and seals his mouth to your dripping cunt. The familiar sweet musk of you pours into his mouth, cocktailed with the overwhelmingly heady flavor of your heat slick. The tightness in his balls is getting blurry now, half-full-bladder, half-swelling desire. But he can hold it, if it means he gets to pull more of those little cries from your needy throat.

He glides the flat of his tongue up between your folds, knowing that it makes you squeal without actually pushing you any closer to the edge. As he predicted, your thigh twitches by his left ear and your toes curl, but the whine that leaves you is not a satisfied one.

“K-katsuki,” you beg. The shape of his name on your lips comes as a surprise to him, and he glances up at you with a flinch of his brow. While there’s nothing quite like the way you shout “alpha” in the throes of your heat, when you’re all sleepy and sticky and half-conscious like this, his name feels good, too, hanging in the bleary air between you.

It sounds nice.

He rewards you with a lift of his chin, bringing the fat press of his tongue over your swollen clit just once. The sharp flick of it makes you yelp and flinch, slamming your hips into his face so hard he nearly bites his lip.

“Fuck,” he curses without pulling away, “cut it out.” He flattens one palm over the low plane of your pelvis, pressing weight into his wrist and pinning your wriggling hips to the mattress. The angle’s a little more awkward like this, but your toes are starting to twitch and he can tell you’re losing yourself to the pleasure.

He presses one finger to the weeping silk of your slippery folds, nudging it forward to find your needing hole and pushing smoothly inside.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he croons into your cunt, “y’re fuckin’ grabbing me already.”

Your walls flutter in near-instant reaction to his touch, closing down hard around his middle finger. You squeeze so tightly he can barely draw back out of you again, curling the pad of his finger to find the spongy flesh near your entrance. It’s the tenderest part of you, and when he rubs it just right, you’ll descend into the kind of shivers that’ll make it hard to hold back.

It’s worth it every time, though, to watch you lose your mind under his diligent hands.

Katsuki refreshes the weight in his palm, pinning you freshly down while he re-adjusts to the slick pull of your clutching depths. He cups his tongue against your clit, feeling the heat in its swollen ridge, and dips his ring finger into you, alongside the first. His cock’s fully hard now, drooling wet preek into the sheets and burning with bright, hot tension.

Fuck, it’s going to feel good to get you on his knot again.

He focuses once more on the task at hand, finished revelling in your taste and ready to focus on your pleasure. You like it when he flutters his tongue quick and sharp against your clit, and your cunt’s most sensitive in the shallow parts near your slit. He curls his fingers, rubbing all along the hottest planes. He can practically feel the spots where your nerves sit closest to your skin, making your body spasm when he pins them under his fingers.

“Kah!” The first syllable of his name flies from your lips. He knows you sense his intent now, and your body’s already beginning to stiffen with the promise of climax. He knows you have to tense up a little to make it happen, so when you tense your core beneath the press of his free hand, he knows you’re getting close.

“Close,” you pant anyway, slipping one hand between your thighs and raking your fingers into his hair. When you grab the longest strands at his crown and pull, it sends an unexpected little shock of pleasure to his dick that pulls the air from his chest.

You’re already starting to pitch and shake, but he knows better than to let up now. He keeps the pleasure coming steady and strong, pushing out out a solid rhythm between his tongue and his fingers as he feels you pass the point of no return.

“Right there,” comes your desperate voice, crawling into your upper register. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s it, y-you’re-“

It’s kind of beautiful, how easy to read you’ve become. He’s pretty sure he could satisfy you like this by feel alone at this point, blindfolded with his ears stuffed full of cotton.

A heartbeat and a half later you’re falling, tense muscles suddenly going slack as you dig your heels into the mattress and arch your back off the bed and contract so tight around his fingers he almost busts it right there, trying not to think about how maddening you’re going to feel around his cock in a few seconds. You let out one, long, hushed draw of his name, a “Katsuki,” that wafts by his ears like a fragrant breeze. Then you’re collapsing between his hands, fitful and whimpering and fighting him off.

“Better?” he grunts, sitting back on his heels. He wipes his mouth off with the back of one hand, dipping the pad of his thumb into the corners as he licks your heat-slick from his lips.

The look you give him suggests everything he intended. Better after a peak, perhaps, but there’s only one thing that’s going to satisfy you enough to function today.

Fuck, his knot’s already starting to swell a little when he closes his fingers around himself. He grits his teeth, ignoring the flush of heat that creeps down the back of his neck and willing it to stay small enough to fuck you properly.

He looks up at you again, and your scent crashes into his mind, filling every hollow of his blurry mind. You’re already gushing fresh slick, reaching for him to grab him by the face and pull him back down to your level.

He probably shouldn’t have teased you so long.

He lets you tug him against you, bracing his hands at either side of your head to drop his mouth to yours. He laves his tongue affectionately across your teeth, tasting notes of his scent in the lingering flavour of you. The hint of his own musk serves as a pleasant memory from the night before, when he’d poured his scent into every hollow of your body, claiming you as wholly as you’d given yourself to him.

You’re already humping your hips down against his, with his cock pressing up into the crook of your thigh. Katsuki groans long and low into your mouth, fitting one hand between you to bring his weeping tip to the hot gush of your cunt.

“That’s what you want?” He grunts, dipping his mouth from yours, tucking it against the shell of your ear.

“Katsuki, hmmm,” you whine, dragging your hard nipples against his chest. When he doesn’t move right away you whine again, clutching at his back and trying to rock yourself down onto him.

“Alpha, plea-hah!”

Katsuki delights in the way he can still startle you, after all this time. He cuts off your begging by snapping his hips sharply forward, bottoming out in one clean thrust. He’s never pretended to have the biggest cock in the world. But he’ll be damned if you’re not satisfied by it anyway.

“That’s right,” he pants, closing his eyes against the crook of your neck. “I got what you need.”

He pets a hand down your sternum as he straightens up a little, thumbing the tender swell of one nipple. He slides his fingers into the dip of your waist to brace at the curve of your hip, digging the pads of his fingers into your flesh as he rolls smoothly in and out of your clingy heat.

He closes his eyes again, overcome by the feelings he swallowed to tease you earlier. You are still tender and gooey from last night, molded perfectly to the size of him and sucking him forward every time he tries to pull away. Your slick leaks out around the edges of his cock with every push of his hips, and the quiet, satisfied cries from beneath him send pulses of deep affection into the hollows of his chest.

There’s nothing quite like this, the physical manifestation of the intimacy that lies between you. He is the only one who can do this for you anymore, the only person in the world who can quell the trembling tides of your heat.

He’s not gonna last long at all, getting sweet on you in his head like this.

Determined to make use of the time that he has, he slides his fingers into the back of your knee, pushing your thigh up toward your torso until he can reach up and grab you by the ankle. Slowly, deftly, he straightens your leg, gliding his palm down the length of your shin and guiding the curve of your heel into the crook of his shoulder.

“Pretty like this,” he croons without thinking, turning his head and feathering a quiet little kiss to the inside of your ankle. He spies your reaction out of the corner of his eye, a blissful little sleepy smile that paints your warmed features. Affection clutches low and hot in his belly, a feeling he’s only now grown used to embracing. Tenderly, he wraps his arm around your leg, braces it against his chest, and begins to thrust.

He takes up a slow, heady pace, pulling slowly out of you and then slamming forward with a harsh snap of his hips, revelling in the way your body jerks every time. He can feel the breath rattle against his palate as he sucks it in through his clenched teeth, losing himself in the maddening grip of you. It’s woven into the very fabric of him, loving you. He doesn’t have to say it anymore, not when he can practically read it out of your skin. But he’s promised himself, more fiercely than anything, to take care of you.

He promises you in the way he fucks you through this, muscles stretched thin, balls aching. Worn out on a weeknight’s worth of sleep, calling out of work for the second day in a row, undoubtedly leaving you in bed to put together a decent meal from the fridge he’d stocked this time last week, when you started looking at him Like That and he couldn’t even bring himself to dread it.

You clench, shifting your foot against his shoulder and lifting your hips into his. The tight little ripple around the base of his cock shoots all the way to the base of his spine, and with a sharp little grunt Katsuki slips his free hand down your belly, stretching his thumb over your tender clit. He can already feel his knot beginning to swell again, pleasure spiking hard when he traps your clit under his thumb and starts to stroke, making you cry out and tense into him all over again.

“Kat…suki, I’m.. g-gonna,” you plead, like he can’t already feel it happening again. Even your scent fluctuates when you’re about to cum, rippled with a sharp little spice that peters into sweetness all over again when you bleed down from that high.

“I gotcha,” he promises gently, hooking his arm more firmly around your calf. “Come on, baby. I gotcha. Come on.”

He dips his hips as low as he can, paying extra attention to the beginning and end of every thrust, to overstimulate those tender spots that line your entrance. It works, because before long you’re digging your heel into the meat of his shoulder and convulsing around his pounding length and gushing hot slick that drips down his balls and coats his pelvis and smears across the low end of his stomach.

“Fuck.” The word hisses from his throat, his body taking the green light of your waning climax long before his brain clues in. He digs his fingers into your thigh and leans forward, stretching it up toward your chest and lets himself go, shoving his hips madly against yours and milking every cruel draw of pleasure from his own body until his thighs are shaking with the resistance of it. When the ecstasy finally boils over he slams his hips as far forward as they’ll go, squeezing his eyes shut and shooting long spurts of cum up into your belly. Your walls stretch eagerly around him as his knot expands completely, sealing his pelvis to yours.

Finally, he shrugs your ankle down his arm, gently straightening your leg out over his thigh as you catch your breath. He’s a little winded, too, never quite ready for the overwhelming sensations of taking you.

“That’s never gonna get old,” he mumbles, bowing over your supine form to rest his dewy forehead on yours.

You’re still panting hard, but you laugh airily, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. His eyes are closed again but he can feel you grinning and it’s too contagious not to crack a little smile. He ducks his forehead away from yours to nose against the shell of your ear, mouthing gently at your jaw and sliding both hands up and down either side of your torso.

“Better?” he asks, sincere this time. And, sincerely soothed this time, you nod.

“Much better.”

He knows you’re telling the truth, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to be on you all day. He can’t keep himself off of you when you’re coming down from the worst of it, all sweet and pliable and soft in a way that you most certainly are not for the other days in your cycle. You kick his ass without hesitation, and he loves you for it. But you’re irresistible like this.

“Now,” he grunts, still nosing his way down your neck, tonguing the sweet hollow of your scent glands, “hurry up and calm down. I gotta take a leak.”

That urge hasn’t gone anywhere fast, growing shallow and tight in the pit of his groin. But it’s not urgent. Not when he’s locked so sweetly (and securely) into your relaxing depths.

“You’re the one that needs to calm down,” you retort in good humour, glancing down for a heartbeat.

“Say that again and I might not bother waiting,” he threatens easily. The noise that escapes your throat is enough to make him snort, pillowing his head in the crook of your shoulder as you turn sharply to find his eyes.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

“You gonna stop me?” He regrets challenging you immediately when you flail instinctively beneath him, wrenching on the base of his knot and drawing a strangled, pained little wheeze from his chest.

“Fuck, I was kidding,” he scolds, pinning your shoulders to the mattress. “Jesus. Welcome back.”

You’re getting your fire back early. Maybe he’s kind of missed it, after all.  

He keeps himself curled over you like that until his knot’s gone down almost all the way, cock softening out of you and letting fresh drips of slick and cum leak onto his thighs. Finally he pulls himself away from you, padding blindly into the bathroom and flipping on the harsh fluorescent light.

He braces one hand on the wall over the toilet as he relieves himself, still half-hard and wavering on his overworked thighs. After he’s washed his hands he wagers a look in the mirror, turning his back and twisting to look over his shoulder and examine the damage.

He goes back to bed smirking, thinking of the long, angry scratches while the memory of their infliction is still fresh.

You are already half-asleep again when he finds you, so he just pulls the sheets up around your shoulders and drops a kiss to your temple. You’re going to want coffee soon, and you’re going to need breakfast. Neither of you have had a proper meal in longer than he’d care to calculate.

When he steps into some undershorts and eases into the open space that makes up the rest of your apartment, he opens the kitchen windows, since you’ll want fresh air when you come out to join him. He’d stopped by the bagel shop on the corner by the agency the last time he was there, leaving work early to come home to you, because he knew you’d want fried eggs on your favourite sesame bagel when you were finally coherent enough to crave food again.

The routines that make up his devotion to you aren’t the things he learned about in health class. They weren’t written down in the books that were unceremoniously shoved at him after he’d presented, nor did the details of your post-heat care list appear on any neatly packaged powerpoint presentation.

He’s picked them up slowly, the hard way, by messing up over and over and over again. They’re things he never even realized he knew about you, until he looks down at his hands and he’s flipping his own egg every few seconds to keep it from browning but leaving yours in the pan to get crisp around the edges.

It feels good to know you so deeply. Even when, sometimes, the flipside is still a little too vulnerable and scary. Even when he’s still harsh and mean, when he still messes up, when he still catches himself on the edge of fury so often.

You picked him anyway, and he’ll be damned if he’s not going to let that mean something.

[wiypt-writes]

Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

A Frank Adler One Shot.

Summary: It’s Frank’s wedding night… but you’re not quite ready to let him go just yet.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+) allusions to cheating…

Pairings:  Frank Adler x Reader

A/N: Just a little smutty one shot featuring everyone’s favourite Dirty Boat Daddy. Written for @onlyjamesbarnes 1.5k Follower Challenge. Prompt in bold. Congrats babe!!

Lyrics from Fall Out Boy- Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

Frank Adler Master list // Main Masterlist

❤️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔♥️💔

I'm gonna make you bend and break,

Say a prayer, but let the good times roll

In case God doesn't show…

Frank had always been powerless to resist you. He was a moth to your flame, but like always, you play with fire and you get burnt.

But now, you were the one burning, burning hotter than the sun.

With a groan, you ground your hips down as you leaned back, rolling and rocking down onto him. That face, sharp chiselled jawline covered by a slightly nearer than usual scruff looked back at you, his perfect profile silhouetted against the moonlight which drifted through the curtains of the hotel room.

How could something that wrong feel so fucking right?

And I want these words to make things right, But it's the wrongs that make the words come to life.

"Who does he think he is?"

If that's the worst you've got, better put your fingers back to the keys

He shouldn’t have let you in, but you knew he would as soon as he fired you the message with his room number. Your signature knock had sounded across the plush suite he was spending his last night as a ‘single’ man in, and like a sacrificial lamb welcoming its slaughter, he’d opened the door.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I wanted to see you.” You blinked up at him. He was still in his slacks and dress shirt, from the rehearsal you’d sat through, tie discarded, collar open. He cut a stark contrast to the boat greased and oil stained, salty air cured man you were used to.

He held the door open for you, stepping back and allowing you in. Without a word you walked over to the grand windows the space provided, offering a look at the shoreline outside and below. The view was breathtaking at night, the moonlight shining off the waves as they lapped at the shore, mere metres away from where tomorrow he would take his vows.

Through the reflection of the window behind you, you could see him just as his hands gripped at your waist. You turned on the ball of your foot, manicured fingers running up his chest from his strong pecs to his collarbones and over his shoulders to around his neck, your lips quickly on his. Your tongue slipped inside, tasting a hint of scotch, a half drunk glass of which sat on the small coffee table to the right. Frank moaned against your mouth while your fingers slipped through the neatly trimmed hair of his neck.

You pushed against him slightly with your body, the back of his legs hitting the chair besides the coffee table and he took a seat, breaking your kiss.

“This shouldn’t-“

“Shhh.” You shook your head. “Just give me tonight, please.”

He stared at you with lust blown eyes, different to the playful glint he normally possessed when he used to look at you, as you thought for a second about your next move, bottom lip already swollen from his kiss between your teeth.

You knew he was a goner.

"Y/N," he managed to croak out as you straddled his lap, seating yourself over his now hard cock, the rough fabric of his dark dress pants constraining him, giving you just enough teasing friction agasint your sensitive inner thighs. His large hands slid up your thighs and under your light coloured, flowy dress as you moved your lips over his again, giving him access to your ass, finger tips grazing the barely there material of your panties.

You ground down against him, your hips rolling in a circular motion as he growled into your mouth, squeezing your cheeks with his hands. You kicked off your sandals, making a thud as they hit the plush carpet. A sound that matched that of your heart. A heart that squeezed in your chest, as if someone had wound and elastic band around its middle knowing that tomorrow you’d watch him takes his vows.

And everything would change.

Frank broke away from your lips, to lick and nip at your jaw and down your neck, tongue rolling against your sternum. His face drilled between your breasts, inhaling your scent.

Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt and plucked them open skillfully, French manicured nails raking across his chest, causing him to shudder and groan. You reached for the buckle of his belt, undoing it with little trouble, lifting your hips slightly, showing a strength in your thighs as you lifted away from him, to undo his flies. You adjusted yourself, pushing up on your knees just a little to allow the room you needed to dip your hand just under his boxers waistline, gently gripping at his dick.

“No, not here.” He growled, teeth nipping at the shell of your ear. “I want you in the bed.”

The bed. Where he would spend his first night as a married man.

It was so wrong.

Yet you happily obliged.

It was a well practiced tango the pair of you had danced over the years, and now here you were, him keening underneath you with a desperation you’d come to know well.

You could feel his cock pulsing against your walls and it gave you the chills. You held the power and control as he struggled to keep his.

With a quick movement, Frank sat up, pulling you flush against his chest, the angle hitting you just at that pleasurable spot he always managed to hit within you. His head dropped, lips and teeth gently teasing your nipple, large hands splayed agains your spine as he lavished you with affection.

You started grinding down harder, looking for that clitoral stimulation you wanted and as you found it, he moaned deeply into your ear.

“I’m close, but I don’t wanna… not yet.” His words were a plea, a plea that he wasn’t ready to end, and you knew he didn’t simply mean tonight.

But it had to. There was no way around it.

One night and one more time, thanks for the memories, even though they weren't so great

"He tastes like you only sweeter"

"Just...let...go," you purred against him.

"Oh fahk," he ground out as his feet planted firmly into the mattress and his hips thrust upward. It didn't take much, a few strong and hard drives and you were crying out his name, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you came around around him.

"Jesus, fahkk, I'm gonna fahking.... Oh fahk," he swore vehemently, his old Boston drawl thick as he drove hard into you for a final time, exploding his load deep into you, spraying your walls with ribbons of white cream.

The pair of you collapsed onto the bed, utterly spent. Frank kept you held to his chest as you both drew ragged, heaving breaths. After a moment, Frank pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, no words needed.

And you blinked back a solitary tear.

*****

I'm looking forward to the future, but my eyesight is going bad.

And this crystal ball, it’s always cloudy except for when you look into the past

One night stand

Frank had fallen asleep with you in his arms, not quite ready to let you go. But you were long gone by the time he woke the next morning, the only evidence you’d been in his room was a scribbled note on the pad on the night stand.

“Here’s to the first day of the rest of your life.”

He’d folded the note up and slipped it into his breast pocket, not quite sure why. Maybe it would keep you close to him in those moments he needed to feel you, who knows.

Who knows why any of this had started in the first place.

He watched Mary walk down the aisle first, her bouquet in her hand had been dropped as she had leapt into his arms for a hug, laughing as she told him how excited she was. He’d kissed her cheek and placed her down and she stood by his side, watching as his bride and her father started towards him.

It was then Frank’s eyes had found yours as you watched him, and he swallowed, his chest contracting.

He could still feel your eyes on him and he couldn’t get the image of you bouncing on top of his cock out of his head. He blinked as someone said his name, and he looked at the officiant, clearing his throat.

“Sorry, little nervous.” He apologised, flashing a cheeky grin before he took a deep breath.

A couple of I-Dos later, he was told to kiss his wife. So he did.

And all he could taste was you.

Man and wife walked hand in hand down the aisle to applause, and at the end they stopped and the new Mrs Adler peered up at Frank, a soft smile on her face.

“You happy?”

“Of course.” He smiled back.

“Good, because choosing me to spend your life with, well, I actually think it’s the second best choice you’ve ever made in your life.”

Frank blinked as he heard the click of the photographer's camera. “Oh? The second? What was the first?”

“Letting me into your room last night.” You grinned, your hand sliding up his tux, the diamond studded band catching the sun, glinting in the bright light.

Frank grinned at you, before he arched his eyebrow. “Time will tell if it really was bad luck to see my wife the night before.”

“Didn’t feel like bad luck to me,” you smirked, you hand gently tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck as he dropped his head to kiss you, the cheers and applause once more chiming in your ears.

One night and one more time, thanks for the memories

[angy-mouse]

Big dick cryptid gogy pls maam

-🐀

I assumed by cryptid you meant demon like my other post and even then instead of sloth demon gogy this could just be interpreted as sleepy gogy but it was already half written from my personal stash so...

“See, luv,” he cooed gently, hips moving lazily against hers. “Isn’t this better than silly chores?” 

George grinned at the soft babble and whine she responded with, the first sounding somewhat like his name and the second a result of his dick nudging a particularly sensitive spot inside of her. This was his idea of a perfect day- his body draped over hers, fucking into her at a relaxed pace. Her legs were starting to shake from overstimulation, but that was fine- that just assured him she wouldn’t be able to leave him in bed alone again. “I know you can give me another, darling, let me feel you.” He softly shushed her as she babbled into her pillow- “no no no no, I can’t, George, please-” and nipped at the back of her neck. 

The hand attached to the arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her back flush with his chest, trailed down to play with her clit and pulled a needy moan out of her that made him smile wide. “That’s right, darling. The others can’t fuck you like this, can they? No, they can pound you and bruise you all they like, leave your poor pussy bruised and battered- but I’m the only one who can please you like this, aren’t I?” His fangs teased her ear, scraping along the shell. “I’m the only one who can fuck you slow. Soft and slow- I don’t even have to move to get you off, do I? I bet you could come just from having my dick inside of you, hmm?”

“Yes, yes, anything, please please please-”

“Oh, my poor little thing’s gone cockdumb, haven’t you?” He tsked as she continued to babble through her orgasm. He straightened up on his knees to watch himself fuck into her, adjusting his hands to grip her hips tightly as she went limp and buried her face in the pillow. “I fucked you dumb just from this?” Another lazy smile grew on his lips as he watched how slowly he fucked her. He pulled out barely an inch and slid it right back in at the same lazy pace with a slight grind to make sure she felt every inch of him. “Is my cock that good, baby? I’m practically still and I’ve still got you begging for me. Should I stop, luv? Maybe if you can’t handle it when I fuck you you can keep my cock warm.” He giggled as she merely whimpered, too fucked out to come up with a good answer. 

George plastered himself to her back again and rolled them onto their sides, making sure to put her between him and the wall to make it harder for her to leave without him noticing. “There we go, baby,” he purred as he pulled his little spoon even closer, continuing to gently roll his hips against hers. 

“Go ahead, baby, go to sleep. I promise by the time you wake up I’ll have you so stuffed full of cum you can’t even think about chores.”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

love letter, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook gets love letters shoved in his mailbox and under his apartment door all the damn time. You, too, get love letters shoved in your mailbox and under your door. All the time. It could be a sweet gesture, but this is the twenty-first century. Love letters aren't all they're cracked up to be. 

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; short graphic descriptions of sex acts; smut (fem reader, a very intense make-out session including some wild tongue and too much saliva, nipple play, a bit of m-receiving oral, cowgirl, handjob); non-idol!BTS – technically university, blond, softsub!Jungkook x working, softdom!reader; slightly desperate and needy JK

yes, yes, it’s MTV Unplugged ‘Telepathy’JK

--

"I'm so tired of people thinking they have a chance with me."

Was the exasperated declaration as you backed up into your apartment, only to turn around and witness Jeon Jungkook dumping a waterfall of colorful envelopes from his giant black backpack onto your hardwood floor. 

"At least remove your shoes before you start flaunting how hot you are," you replied dryly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes as he kicked off his large white sneakers. "Look at this shit! It's relentless! It's annoying! I just want to live my life!"

You vaguely recalled Jungkook being excited about his first love letter upon reaching university, and then the second, the third... and now you were staring at pile number five hundred on your doormat. "I don't know, put a sign on your door? 'Please stop, the answer is no?'"

Jungkook winced. "I can't do that. How many hearts am I going to break?"

"Uh, I dunno, you already broke half the campus by existing in general."

He bonked you on the head lightly with his denim jacket sleeve. "I have not. I've only slept with a couple people and that was supposed to be no strings attached."

You shrugged. "People can't understand that. Especially women."

He puffed his cheeks and stepped over the pile. You noticed the small stickers and nice handwriting on the colorful pastel paper. You almost felt bad, seeing all the effort put into them.

"At least they're cute. I only get torn notebook pages with scribbles."

"Stop lying. You get girls' letters too," Jungkook grumbled. "Can I borrow your computer? One of my professors assigned an online quiz and the internet at my place is down, again."

"You gotta move," you commented, kneeling down to collect the mess Jungkook made. You noticed Jungkook flit his eyes about before throwing up his hands and bending down to help you. 

"I'm trying to get out of the lease, but I have a couple more months left," he complained childishly.

"What about your other friends? Can't you go bother them?"

Jungkook frowned, sticking out his lower lip. The tiny mole underneath winked at you. "You hate me now or something?"

You laughed, standing up with a stacked pile of confessions to Jeon Jungkook. "No, I'm just curious as to why you always come here."

He shoved the rest in your arms, his pile slightly messier than yours. "You live the closest and you're usually home. Plus, you have two computers."

"A laptop and a desktop," you corrected. "Don't you have a laptop?"

"It's easier to borrow yours."

"Lazy."

Jungkook ignored your remark and ticked his silvery-blond head further into the apartment. "Can I borrow it or not?"

You laughed. "Of course. Laptop's on the bed."

He turned and followed the hallway to your bedroom. "Same password?" he yelled, not looking back.

"Obviously."

"Why is it my birth date?" he shouted.

"Because, one, no one will guess it, and, two, you're a dumbass and always forget it."

"I do not!"

"How many times did you ask when the password was Klingon?"

"I don't know your nerdy shit!"

"Do your fucking assignment," you belted down the hall. 

Jungkook stuck his head out of your bedroom door and scrunched his nose to make a hideous face at you, holding your gunmetal-colored laptop. You rolled your eyes as he disappeared again. This crackhead. You let out a sigh, walking past the acrylic painting of a blue sky with pink-purple clouds hanging in your living room, flicking through at all the letters addressed to Jungkook.

Surprisingly, you knew what he felt like. With you, it started with inviting one guy over to your place, sucking his dick, and then suddenly a letter appeared. Well, letter was putting it nicely. Dirty napkin with words scrawled with smeared ballpoint pen shoved under your door, explicitly asking for more. Then another, wanting it. Then another, begging for it. You ignored them. At some point, you invited a girl over, ate her out, and then the colorful envelopes started appearing, with cute stickers and neat handwriting.

Mmmhmm.

Why did Jungkook bring them here anyway? To brag? For you to peruse? You spread them out them on your coffee table and tore one open. Read it. Simple confession of love, no name. You were kind of jealous. Jungkook always got nicer ones than you did. Something about being a sexually uninhibited woman seemed to translate to others that you were down to fuck anyone, anytime, anything. You tossed the letter aside, ripped open a folded card closed with lilac tape. Another, 'I love you, please go out with me', no name. Toss. And you opened another one, reading out loud. 

"I want to cram all one hundred and seventy-nine centimeters of you into me?”

Uh.

Huh.

Still no name.

Cute peach stationery though. 

Was it a euphemism? Symbolic? Thinly veiled code? Hm. In any case, this was more along the lines of shamelessness you encountered yourself. 

By all conventions, Jeon Jungkook was attractive as fuck. Pretty pink lips, big brown eyes, manly sharp jawline. He kept his hair on the longer side, around ear length, now silvery-blond compared to the usual black. You heard he dyed it a couple times, but now it had since faded to the original blond.

Oh, yeah, also he had nice hands and a body to die for. 

You could see why Jungkook got all these love letters. You? Well, similar reasons, except less muscles. Also, yours weren't really love letters. More like vulgar remarks on the backs of grubby receipts. 

Probably just as heartfelt.

The only reason you knew of Jungkook was because you were friends with one of his close friends. Alright, maybe you sucked his friend's dick. More than once. But anyway, not the point. The point was that the topic of love letters came up one night when everyone was hanging out and you voiced your predicament. It was the summer before Jungkook entered university. He had burst out laughing, thinking it was a hilarious situation.

"Haha, that would never happen to me!"

Jokes on you, Jungkook, karma's a bitch. 

You thought about moving, but the location was close to your work and the internet service was great here. At least you always recycled the paper. What were you supposed to do? Keep an album of Starbucks napkins of people asking if your tongue was good or not?

You opened another envelope addressed to 'sweet, adorable Jungkookie'.

Their words, not yours. 

"Shove your dick down my throat and make me gag? Smiley face?"

Well, that's a contrast. 

Jungkook didn't start contacting you on his own until the letters started coming and then they didn’t stop coming, flooding his mailbox and underneath his door, overwhelming and confusing him. He didn't think he would get much attention, although perhaps it might be your fault, since you seemed to have set the precedence for this type of thing at this particular university. There was at least one person in every year that got this treatment, and it all started with one dirty napkin with smeared ink. Rumor caught on and then bam! It became a thing. 

So, yeah. 

Maybe kind of your fault.

You shouldn't have told so many people about that napkin. 

You fished out a pizza receipt from the pile, inspecting it. You couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. Then you noticed it had Jungkook's phone number and an order of three pizzas. Not a confession, just trash from Jungkook's backpack. Did he really eat three pizzas? Hopefully not by himself and in one sitting. You noticed the timestamp. Mmm, three in the morning. Okay. Maybe he did eat three pizzas by himself in one sitting. 

You filed through the rest, removing trash from the recyclable paper. Paused when you found a scrap of paper that said, "Put your dick in my ass." You recognized this curvy, narrow handwriting, slightly heavy-handed. Same person wrote you the same note this week. 

This was why you didn't take the messages too seriously.

You saw a particularly thick purple envelope and picked it up, tearing it open. It was several pages, with tiny, crammed handwriting on paper with cute bunnies on it. Several pages detailing straight up porn with Jungkook as the leading role. 

You almost burst out laughing. 

Who the fuck would write this?

And send it to him?

Not you, that's for fucking sure. 

Still, it wasn't the worst thing you've ever read. Had some spelling mistakes and poor grammar. Instant turn-off. Needed a good proofread. You settled onto your brown leather couch, highly entertained as you read it. Then you actually burst out laughing, because said person wanted Jungkook to lift them and fuck them at the same time and that kinda shit just wasn't possible. You would know, because you’ve tried. It sounded good, but in practice, the dick ended up falling out pretty quickly if the pussy was any sort of wet.

If you weren’t wet, then, eh, not sure why you're fucking. 

"What is so fucking funny?" Jungkook grumbled, poking his head around the corner, still holding your laptop. 

You held up the sheets of bunny-printed paper, still laughing. "Someone sent you their written erotica and you're the star!"

Jungkook grimaced. "Oh yeah, that person. They write something new every week. It's weird." He frowned. "I try to take it out so you don't have to read that shit. I must have missed it."

"It's hilarious," you chuckled. "You should publish them into a book."

"You know I can't do that," Jungkook sighed, putting your laptop on the coffee table and snatching the pages from you. "I throw them away like everything else."

"Did you finish your assignment?" you chortled, leaning over to look at the laptop screen. Submission successful. "80%?! When you could easily cheat?"

"I read a question wrong," Jungkook whined, balling up the paper and throwing it down. "Ack."

You looked up at him and he was looking upset at the pile on the table. 

"What's wrong?"

"What if one of them is real?" 

"Huh?"

"I mean... I just throw them away now. But what if one of them is real?" Jungkook wondered out loud. 

You shrugged. "Does it matter? They'll tell you in person if it's that important."

Jungkook tilted his head at you doubtfully. "Will they?"

You sat back into your couch, with your legs wide open. You were wearing sleek black leggings and a cropped pink sweatshirt. Not the most ladylike pose, but you didn't really care. You gestured to the stack of letters on your wooden coffee table. 

"They should. If they actually like you and it's not a joke, then they should tell you in person and accept that they might be rejected."

Jungkook frowned and slumped down next to you. His light-wash denim jacket made a loud floof as his ass hit the brown leather cushions. The wash of his jeans matched his jacket. He wore a white graphic t-shirt under. It looked vintage, but it probably wasn’t. 

"What if they're nervous?" he questioned, twisting his pink lips around.

"So what? Everyone's nervous. We all live in a perpetual state of terror."

Jungkook rolled his eyes. 

You leaned forward and plucked a sky-blue memo note from the table, reading it out loud. "I love you. Marry me." You held it out to him. "See? You get nice ones. I get, ‘choke me like you hate me’ and 'shove your tongue into my asshole, please'. Rarely do I get is that please at the end," you finished with a dry laugh. You looked up to see Jungkook staring back at you. Your laugh died a little seeing his serious expression. 

"Yes."

You blinked at him. "What?"

Jungkook ticked his chin to the note, then shifted his eyes to you.

You pointed to the memo sheet and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't write this."

"I did."

He was so serious that you couldn't laugh. You just blinked at him rapidly and turned your head to look at the sky-blue memo sheet, finally recognizing the clean, block-like handwriting and spotting the bottom right corner. English letters. A J and a K fused together, the way Jungkook usually signed his paintings.

You dropped the note like it was on fire.

Jerked your head up, not to him, but to the painting across from you in the living room, the one with the blue sky and pink-purple clouds, with a tiny JK signature in black at the bottom right corner. The painting you asked Jungkook to make you a while back. 

"You paint, right? I want something calm for my living room. I bought a canvas, so about this size. It's that cool?"

Jungkook had squinted his eyes, nodding. "Yeah, I could draw a pretty big dick on it."

"This is for my living room, dumbass. And I said I wanted something calm."

"A flaccid dick then."

You turned your head back to Jungkook of now, who was wringing his hands on his thighs, wiping off his palms. He noticed you watching him and puffed one cheek before letting out a big sigh. 

"I was... gonna leave it on your laptop," Jungkook mumbled, flapping a hand to the sky-blue note. "But I couldn't find it in my backpack, and then I realized one of the pockets was open, the one where I keep receipts... anyway I had put the note there, so I came out to see if it was in the pile... yup, there it is."

He sucked in his cheek and fell back against the leather sofa.

"Was a joke."

Jungkook's voice sounded hollow. Empty. 

"... Ah." You tucked the tip of your tongue in your cheek.

"Not the greatest joke," he added flatly.

“No, it’s not,” you agreed. "Jokes that are insincere are bad jokes."

The black words glared back up at you, contrasting the pale azure paper. You picked up the memo sheet again. Turned to face him, holding it up next to Jungkook's head of silvery-blond hair. He pursed his lips and looked away from you, jaw clenched in nervousness. 

"Just say it."

He puffed one cheek again. "It was a joke."

"Then why are you saying it in past tense?"

His brown orbs shifted from side to side before Jungkook tried to bolt out of his seat, only for you to slam a hand down on his shoulder and throw a leg over him, straddling his lap before pinning the note to his chest. He yelped sharply and looked up at you with huge, shaking irises. 

In all your time knowing him, you never tried to sleep with Jungkook.

Never. 

You jabbed the note into his white shirt and he gave you a terrified squeak in response. 

You scrutinized his face, jaw slack, eyes wide, blond curls framing his chiseled cheekbones. One of your eyebrows raised, your voice calm and unfazed.

"Say it."

"You say it," Jungkook finally shot back, furrowing his brows, biting on his lip and mustering up the most indignant look he could produce at this very second. You didn’t react. He seemed to have forgotten you did, in fact, say it, although perhaps that wasn’t exactly what he meant.

You never tried to fuck Jungkook because he didn’t treat you as anything more than his primary source of internet when his own was down. Ah, and also his outlet for complaining about his love letter problem. And then there was that other little wrinkle, the unwritten societal rule one of sucking a guy's dick you're still friends with - don't suck his friends' dicks. Surefire way to fuck up a friendship, especially if the dude’s ego was fragile.

Jungkook’s friend was dating someone else now though. His ego couldn’t be that fragile.

You leaned forward and Jungkook's annoyed gaze faltered. He gulped and tried to shrink into your brown leather couch, as if he could somehow disappear under you.

"I love you," you stated clearly and firmly. You glanced at the slightly crumpled piece of blue paper before your eyes flickered back to his face. "Marry me."

Hah, the thing about rules with you was...

Fuck 'em.

Not actually. 

Eh, not the point.

"Really?" Jungkook squeaked, voice cracking slightly.

Ah, right, the other reason you never tried to sex up Jungkook because he was a little bit of an idiot around you. But maybe this sky-blue note detailed the reason for it. 

"Say it," you repeated crossly, poking him in the pecs. "Stop avoiding it."

You observed Jungkook swallow hard again, Adam’s apple bobbing. You furrowed your brows, tipping your head down so that your forehead was hovering over his, eyebrow cocked, gazing into trembling brown orbs. Why was he taking so long? He wrote the damn words. Were they really just a joke? Hmph, why were you even trying then?

That’s how everyone was.

Not putting any stock or thought into their fucking words.

You lifted your finger but Jungkook’s right hand, the one with tiny tattoos, suddenly darted in your view, grabbing your hand back and jamming your finger onto his chest again. His heartbeat raced under your fingertip, thud-thud-thud, rapid bass accenting the moment. Electrifying it.

“Don’t.”

Whisper so faint you frowned and closed even more distance between you two, picking up the scent of vanilla fabric softener and lush cotton. A little different than you, who used a blackberry and spiced vanilla perfume.

“I like this,” Jungkook breathed under you, chewing his lip anxiously. You could feel his warm breath tickling your lips and chin with how close you were. You could count his individual eyebrow hairs, even though the eyebrow product he used.

“I… really like this.”

He let go of your hand.

Now you raised both eyebrows.

You slowly uncurled your middle finger, landing it on his chest next to the index. You felt him shiver a little, lips parting. Straightened your ring finger, planting it down. His lashes lowered a little, brown orbs on your face, watching your reaction to him. You could count the moles on his face. The one on his nose. The one on his cheek. The one under his lower lip. The one on his neck. Your pinky slid onto his chest. A wispy moan left his lips, eyelids fluttering, blond strands floating around his head with the little rise and fall of his heavy, tense exhale.

Why is it your birth date?

Take a wild guess, dumbass.

Your fingers abruptly dug into his white t-shirt, crumpling the note and scrunching the graphic up in your fist. He inhaled sharply, head tipping back and lips nearing yours, a whine escaping his throat. You quirked an eyebrow, drawing back slightly, taking in the rich depth of his tan skin, the sensual line of his neck, up to his angular chin and his dangling silver earrings. All of it. His hands immediately came up to grab your wrist and forearm, ensuring you and himself that you wouldn’t let go, the tendons in your flexed wrist right against his large palm.

“Say it, Jungkook,” you demanded. “Say those words with your pretty pink tongue hanging out your mouth for me.”

You watched him obey immediately, tongue sliding out and touching his lower lip, brown eyes framed by his long lashes and hazy with lust.

“I love you,” Jungkook breathed, a little gargled with his tongue out. “Fucking marry me, please.”

Ah, you couldn't help it. 

You smirked.

"What about all your admirers?" you murmured, twisting your fingers in his shirt, digging your nails into his chest. "You'll break all those poor hearts you’re worried about."

Those dark brown eyes told you they didn't give a single fuck. 

"What about you?" he countered, closing his mouth a little to speak more clearly.

"Me?"

The definition of trouble?

Well, if you looked that up in a dictionary, there would definitely be a picture of you. 

Jungkook’s lips parted once more, keen to submit to your wickedness, pink tongue slipping out again, shiny and glistening with saliva. Breathing shallowly, rubbing your wrist with his thumb, encouraging you to keep going. 

Your lips curved into a treacherous smile.

"I'll break all the hearts to get to yours, Jungkook."

And then you licked his tongue. 

A low moan bubbled from Jungkook's chest, his eyes rolling back and his hips bucking up, desperate for friction as the tip of your wet muscle glided over his warm softness, your spit dripping down his throat, listening to his moans turn into messy garbles of your name, begging you, pleading you, more, more, kiss me, please, and you hooked your tongue around his, gently nudging his jaw with your other hand. Knuckle to chin, tilting your head as your lips closed onto Jungkook's. 

It was not a neat kiss.

There was spit running down his chin, dripping onto his neck and your skin, your lips roughly working his, tongues intertwined and making even more of a mess, you sucking forcefully to earn pained, delicious whines. Jungkook was far too turned on to attempt to glamorize it, cries a jumbled mess under your greedy mouth, but none of that mattered. The moment was sensual and dark, bodies speaking to each other through dopamine and adrenaline. Your hand released his shirt, breaking his grip, switching to burrowing your fingers into his soft blond hair and running your nails over his scalp, leaving lines of prickling pain to enhance your kiss. 

"F-Fuck, oh fuck, yes..."

Your teeth caught his tongue, pulling back and forcing his head to follow. Jungkook made a pained noise, trapped in your embrace, whining as you took him to the brink. You released him swiftly and he snapped backward, blinking hard, trying to reorient himself, but it was impossible, your lips crashing down again, thrusting your tongue into his mouth aggressively, one eye open to witness his fucked-out state, pupils unfocused, long lashes quivering, moaning into your mouth and you inhaling it all, literally taking his breath away. 

It started out with a kiss. 

How did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss. 

It was only a kiss. 

You dropped your lower half onto his crotch and Jungkook gasped, breaking the kiss, strings of spit breaking between you two. You smirked wickedly as you felt his hardness trying to escape its clothing jail, his large hands already on your thighs and hips, sinking his fingers into the soft fabric of your leggings, rocking you into him, desperately trying to get some stimulation.

"Please," he croaked, panting for breath, pulling himself up to sitting position, so easy and smooth, fuck, so sexy, and now Jungkook was in your face, pleas on the tip of his tongue pouring out, tempting you, wanting it. 

"Please, wanna be yours so fucking bad, seeing all those fucking letters and notes you get, and it pisses me off, it's me, I want it to be me, I want to be yours and I'm telling you to your face." 

Whisper achingly hot, deep voice soaked with longing, staring into your eyes with those shaking brown orbs, spinning with emotion like an unstable top, barely enough torque holding it in place and all it took was another spin to encourage it or a gust of rejection to topple it over. 

"And you don't even care about mine, you think they're fucking funny, fuck, I can't stand it, let it be me, please..."

His hands running up your sides, grazing against your breasts, and now his hands were in your hair and yours were in his, bringing your face close, the crumpled sky-blue note right between your joined crotches, forgotten, witnessing the agonizing lust wound tightly in this embrace. 

"Let it be me," Jungkook begged.

You licked your lips slowly, scarcely swiping against his. He shuddered, leaning into it, taking whatever crumbs you gave. His long fingers tensed in your hair, yours buried in the dark roots of his. 

"You'll have to skip the marriage bit for now," you teased lightly. "I don't think my parents will appreciate you slapping down papers before you finish school."

Jungkook snickered, tucking his tongue in his cheek roguishly. "Can't they understand I have to snatch this ass as soon as possible to make people back off?"

Your hands slipped down to his jaw, fitting it in your palms, his silvery-blond stands wrapped around your fingertips. "They'll back off my door once they hear you screaming my name." 

You leaned in, but Jungkook stopped you, brown orbs glittering with mischief to get in one more quip. 

"I doubt it," he purred. 

Yeah. 

Jungkook was right. 

Ah, well. 

You seized his face and kissed him again, fuck, such malleable lips just pleading to be bitten by you, gazing up his nose and to his beautiful eyes, his soft skin in your hands, clenching his jaw under your power, letting you have it, letting you control it and him. You felt him scramble and throw his denim jacket off, dumping it onto your couch to cup your cheeks with his hands, sighing in satisfaction as you inhaled him. Your tongue lazily traced the outskirts of his lips, hearing the rattle of his beaded bracelets by your ears, amused, knowing they were his good luck charms. 

"They bring good luck," he had answered when you saw them for the first time.

You remembered tilting your head at the wooden beads on his slim wrists. "You trying to get your dick sucked or something?"

He had broken out in a loud guffaw. Nudged you with his elbow, cheeky smile on his lips. 

"Never gonna say no to getting my dick sucked."

"Mhm, cool, where's my painting of the flaccid dick?"

From then on, you noticed he wore the same wooden, beaded bracelets every time he came to your apartment.

Hmm. 

Now, your hands falling from his face, yanking his shirt from his pants, annoyed it was getting caught, and then Jungkook fitted his hands around your ass and lifted you easily, breaking the kiss, a moment for you to bear witness to his arms flexing – holy fuck, that’s sexy – right one covered in tattoos. Images and script, with one catching your eye, a string of words running up the inside of his upper arm. One you recognized because you had those words written on your bedroom wall, on a canvas hanging above your bed. A canvas you made, background a chaotic mess of varying dark red brushstrokes, the black script in the center, written by your hand. 

The exact black script with your flourishes and ticks, now tattooed on the inside of his right arm. 

Your eyes drifted to Jungkook's face and his naughty smirk, pleased to be found out. Your lips formed the sentence slowly, in awe of his audacity.

"The devil knows my name."

the devil knows my name. 

Hung above your bed, where all manner of marvelous sinful acts were performed. 

Jungkook grinned deviously. "I saw it. I wanted it on me."

Wanted it on him. 

Oh, fuck. 

Did he know? Could he guess?

"Who's the devil?" you whispered, smile widening, matching his. 

Jungkook reached down, yanking his t-shirt out of his jeans and pulling it up and over his head, revealing the body he sculpted himself, tan skin taut over hard muscle, toned and...

"You're the devil, of course," he snickered. 

Yours. 

"Ding dong daeng," you sing-songed.

How many people have been on your bed, head pulled back by your hand, blinking hard, trying to read the words on your wall through waves of forced ecstasy? Gasping them out, ending with a question, inquiring for an answer.

The devil knows my name?

And you, leaning forward, haunting whisper in their ears, yes, she does, before pushing their face down into the sheets.

"All those love letters not good enough for you, Jungkook?" you breathed, running your hands over his bare chest, spreading your fingers, letting your exhale out through your teeth. His eyes on you, torso trembling, hairs raising, feeling your nails dance up, up, raking over his collarbones and neck, leaving little pink lines of intensity.

"They're not you," he whispered. His hands brushing over yours, outlining your fingers, eyes darkening as you pushed him back into your sofa, lowering your head. "You, the one they talk about..." Your lips on his hot skin, kissing softly, tongue so slight that it made him whimper. "You, the one they look for..." His voice, deep and rumbling, vibrating your lips, pitching as you bit and sucked, leaving small hickeys. "You, the one whose bed I sit on, wondering who else has been there, wondering why it's not me, when I make myself available to you, so easy to prey on, but you let me be..." Your lips closing around his dark brown nipple, scraping your teeth against it, making him squirm and look down at you, you and your self-satisfied, ravenous smirk. 

"I let you read them," Jungkook whimpered, blond strands curled around his cheeks, chest shuddering at your nail flicking his other nipple while your mouth worked the other. "Let you see everything they want to do to me and you still didn't know."

You chuckled darkly. "What's there to know?" you mused, sticking your tongue out and pressing it against the now hard pink-tinged nub, receiving small whines of pleasure as your reward. "It's obvious what you wanted. I was right in front of you. All you had to do was say something."

Jungkook frowned as you sat up, tongue in cheek, half-grinning.

"Look at you."

You crossed your arms and pulled your pink cropped sweatshirt up and over your head, dropping it to the floor. Casually running a hand through the top of your hair to pull it away from your face, gazing down at shirtless Jungkook covered in your red bites, cocking your head with a smirk. He raised an eyebrow, eyes roaming over your figure and the curve of your breasts molded to smooth black satin. 

"You look like you eat hearts for breakfast," he murmured, admiration in his tone.

The side of your lips quirked further upwards.

"And yet you wanna love me."

Jungkook grinned. "I don't want to. I already do."

And then he was the one to pull you to him, kissing you hungrily, you immediately turning it into your favor, your pace, his tongue commanded by yours as he unhooked your bra, moaning into your mouth, rubbing your exposed nipples with his palms, unable to do much as you pushed him into the couch again, guiding his tongue down with your teeth and running the tip of yours over his wet muscle once more, trickling saliva into his throat and onto his chin and neck, messy and lewd. 

"The devil knows your name," you sighed into his mouth, feeling him knead your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hard nipples, tendrils of pleasure making your skin tingle. "And now the devil takes what she wants."

You saw the sides of his lips curve upwards as you backed up to strip the rest of your clothes, amused at Jungkook eagerly following suit and unbuttoning his jeans.

"Can't wait to flaunt how hot you are?" you laughed, reaching down to the shelf under the side table where a ceramic R2-D2 cookie jar sat.

"Do you think I'm hot?" Jungkook haughtily accused before gawking at your waist to ass ratio, his hands slowing, pants stopped to his knees in his distraction.

You gently took off the head of R2-D2 and plucked a condom from it. Some guy told you once that you couldn't like Star Trek and Star Wars at the same time and you told him to shut the fuck up as you slapped his nuts. He begged you to do it again. You fondly patted R2-D2's head after you fitted it back.

You straightened to see Jungkook on your couch with his hard dick on display.

You looked him dead in the eye. "You think I'd let you borrow my laptop if I thought you were ugly?"

Jungkook broke out of his trance and shrugged, finally yanking his calves – holy shit, his calves and thighs were muscular as fuck – out of his jeans, underwear and socks gone with them.

"Maybe you pitied my grades."

"I'd just pay for you to go to the library and fuck off, dumbass," you muttered, pushing his hands aside and ripping the condom open, drinking in the delicious sight of his throbbing red cock dripping pre-cum, his balls just waiting for – fuck it, you got down on your knees and wrapped your tongue around his length, Jungkook sputtering and gasping at your suddenness. Fuck, he smelled and tasted fucking good, clean and velvety to your lips enclosing around the head and sliding down, using one hand to scoop up his balls. Made eye contact with him again.

Jungkook breathed your name hesitantly.

Your tongue slid out of your lips and you jammed his cock all the way down your throat, slathering his balls wetly with your whisking tongue, circling around one and then the other, long expansive strokes that went past the girth of his cock, your pink tongue visible to him. Jungkook's pupils blew wide with shock, moans catching in his throat, whole body shivering, trying desperately not to look away even through you could tell he wanted to throw himself into your sofa and fucking lose it.

"Oooooooh, fuck, that's amazing.... Holy shit, your tongue is everything...."

You chuckled and pulled your head back, satisfied with his reaction. He seemed slightly disappointed until you rolled down the condom, cracking your neck.

"I think I've given enough." You stood up, getting back on top of him and his glorious thighs. "Time for you to be taken."

Jungkook smirked.

You smirked wider and more wickedly.

The sky-blue memo was crumpled into a ball, fallen to your hardwood floor.

Held him with two fingers, ugh, the weight of his cock, fuck yes, and those beautiful dark chocolate eyes, Jungkook, you dumbass, cursing that he didn't tell you sooner so that you could watch him groan and throw his head back like he was right now, gasping at your tightness, your name torn from his throat as you took in every centimeter of him, every pulsing vein and contour of his wonderful cock, stupid Jungkook and his attractive self not using his damn words so you could ride him like you were right now, setting up a fast, bruising pace. Your fingers dug into the back of the couch as you bucked your hips into his violently, keeping yourself tight because you were so fucking wet, fuck, so wet for Jeon Jungkook and his idiotic self, asking for internet to do his school assignments and not asking for his dick to be used as your fucking joystick. 

Dumbass.

"Oh fuck," Jungkook gasped. "Oh, fuck, you're so wet and tight, shit, shit, shit..."

"Tell me something I haven't heard before," you chuckled, only half-meaning it, waving your entire body to deliver a particularly hard smack to his crotch, Jungkook whimpering under you, his hands flying to your upper arms and clutching them, trying to hold on to your wildness.

"Holy fuck, you have some hard biceps," he blurted out, startled at the prominent muscle.

Well, you haven't heard that one before.

"Guess that's what happens when you jack off a lot of dick," you mused nonchalantly.

You ticked your head to Jungkook's arms – delicious – and he frowned at you, opening his mouth to protest and you cut him off by shoving two fingers into his lips, pressing them down into the wet warmth, grinning maniacally as you watched him struggle with your fingers rubbing his tongue and his cock getting assaulted by you aggressively slamming your hips down and clamping around his stiffness, tighter, faster, whines of your name in his throat, head falling back onto the couch with a flump. You were careful not to push your fingers too far. 

Getting vomited on wasn't really on your sexual activities bingo card.

Jungkook was, however, drooling down his chin and neck, and you pulled back to grab his shoulder with your wet hand – oh, fuck, his shoulder, what a lovely shape – and Jungkook wheezed for breath, you ignoring it as you focused all your energy on fucking the life out of him, dirty squelches and smacks of hips on hips, staring down at his abs and v-line, all his hard work at the gym on display, his hands still on your upper arms as he raised his hips to meet yours, needily moaning for you to destroy him with your pace.

Damn, maybe you would have sent him a love letter if you had seen him naked at least once.

"A-Ask me to cum for you," Jungkook finally got out, voice hoarse from breathing so hard for so long.

"You're going to anyway," you taunted.

"Want you to ask," he whined, almost pouting. "Tell me to do it."

You gazed into his eyes, into those brown irises overtaken by black pupils, him a top spinning by your hand, your plaything commanded by your body, pussy clenching around his twitching cock, spurred on from his pleading tone, giving him a devious and wicked grin, speaking to his swollen lips, the devil knows your name, Jungkook, and him moaning back, fuck yes she does, so close, so fucking close, unashamedly barreling towards your release, power in your veins and under you, his muscles rippling as he fucked you back, amplifying every thrust.

"Jungkook."

"Y-Yes?"

"Say it."

Brown eyes locked with yours.

"I love you. Marry me."

You smirked.

"Cum for me."

A half-second and then you let go, letting the feeling rush in and envelop you, the moment held back to torture him, and now you felt it all, already at the tipping point, strained moan as your orgasm crashed into you, shudders all over and falling, sitting all the way down in his lap to experience the throbbing ache of your core giving out and spilling onto his cock and balls in rapid bursts, viscous and sweet. The scent of sex mixing with blackberry and spiced vanilla, his length jerking inside you, and only then did you hear Jungkook crying out your name over and over, the roar in your ears fading out to his shivering moans, hands sliding up and down your arms, eyes closing and lost in the pleasure of your pussy squeezing out his cum. His touch travelling down to your waist, pulling you to him.

Messy, soft kisses, your name and curses mixed together.

"It's me, right?"

You smiled into his mouth that was still asking questions.

"Please let it be me. You'll let me love you for real, right?"

Pushing your hair back, his sweaty blond locks sticking to your face.

"Because I already do, can't stop, won't stop–"

"Yeah, Jungkook, funnily enough I figured that from the first kiss already," you chuckled, running your fingers through his ash blond hair and pulling his head back lightly, seeing him pout, the mole underneath his lower lip peeking out.

"But..."

"Hm?"

His voice suddenly small, vulnerable, his semi-hard dick still inside you.

"Do you love me?"

You lifted a brow. "What kind of dumbass question is that?" You grabbed his arm and pressed your nail into his tattoo of your words, drawing a pink scratch under them, making him gasp. "How can I not love you? Fuck, that's the sexiest thing I've ever seen, my handwriting tattooed onto you. Yes, I love you, Jungkook."

Jungkook's jaw dropped.

This fool is still shocked after all this?

You reached down and held the condom down as you lifted yourself off, yanking him to his feet, pushing Jungkook to your coffee table, right in front of the pile of letters with his name all over them. You picked up your laptop and pushed it onto his chest, forcing him to hold it, him still confused, mildly stunned, not knowing what the fuck was happening.

Then you made him half-straddle your coffee table and yanked off the condom.

"Um–"

Grabbed his cock and started furiously jacking him off.

"Oh, f-fuck!"'

And then he realized what you were doing, the sheer wrongness of it, getting harder and harder with every second, throbbing in your hand.

"You're just like them," you chuckled through exerted breath.

Faster, rougher, tighter, Jungkook clutching your laptop, his larger frame leaning against yours, head thrown back so far that his blond hair was brushing your shoulder, moaning lustfully as he thrusted his hips into your grip. White pooled onto the purple-red tip of his abused cock, far too sensitive to be jacked off this hard right after orgasm, but Jungkook begged you not to stop, streams of residual cum running down your slicked fingers.

"Always looking for your fix from the addiction that's me," you whispered into his ear, laced with an authoritative growl. 

You saw Jungkook's head lower out of your periphery, eyes opening, staring at the colorful envelopes with his name printed on them, the cute stickers and neat handwriting, panting your name, tendons and veins standing out on his neck, sweat beading on his tan skin. 

A low, dangerous chuckle rising in his throat. 

"There's a difference between them and me."

You felt his cock twitch in your hand, ridiculously hard at what you two were about to do. 

"They're not going to get their fix."

Jungkook shuddered against you, jerking his hips forward, thick white strings splattering all over the pastel paper as you watched, fascinated, the scent of his cum saturating the air and the envelopes, drops soaking and smearing the carefully written ink, time wasted and defiled. 

"I am," he moaned, twisting his body on your arms, leaning down to kiss you hungrily as you squeezed his cock, draining it all out, all over your coffee table and coating your hand, stained with Jeon Jungkook's love letter to you. 

--

masterpost

[searenbound]

Ahem. 👉🏼👈🏼 Quick thirst post because I was big thirsty. I’m sorry if the quality is questionable because of it. Please let me know what you think!

Warnings: female reader, step sibling relationship, voyeurism, obsessive/stalker-ish behavior, mild yandere tendencies, swearing, masturbation, dub-con, written with plus sized reader in mind

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem! Reader

Katsuki Bakugou was a good man.

A debating hero.

A top graduate from his class.

A person who was willing to risk himself to save others.

He’s a good young man that wouldn’t do these kinds of things right?

Wouldn’t be so caught up with his pretty little stepsister. His stepsister that walked around practically half naked with her tiny little shorts clinging to her plump ass and thighs. Tank tops with a too low neckline that allowed him to look down her shirt with ease.

Good men were able to ignore that type of thing.

It wouldn’t bother them, wouldn’t keep them up at night panting out their name with a hand tightly wrapped around their cock and a pair of recently worn panties pressed to their nose.

A good man doesn’t normally do shit like that, but he was an exception right? She was actively tempting him, he was sure of it. Trying to corrupt him, trying to drive him insane and he hated to admit it but she was succeeding.

It wasn’t his fault if she was trying to make him go crazy right? She made it so easy to take from her, she had to have wanted him to. She had to have wanted him to have a little collection of memories of her. A shrine of sorts just for her, just to prove how much he truly loves her.

So this was fine right?

Good men don’t usually do this, but it’s fine if it’s him right? Fine if it’s about her right?

He hoped so or this was beyond fucked.

He was beyond fucked.

And she seems to have no clue, laying on her bed and scrolling through her phone, unaware of the man hiding in her closet that was desperately waiting for her to leave so he could go undetected.

He swore at himself mentally, cursing himself for thinking so irrationally when she had said she was gonna step out for a moment.

He thought he could just get in and grab something and leave before she’d be back and now here he was stuck waiting for to just leave already so he can get out of there.

But no.

She had other plans apparently.

At first he was hopeful, watching her get up and stretch and walk towards her door and… his heart jumped into his throat.

She locked the door and he had to hold his breath to keep from yelling at her when she tossed her shirt off mumbling something incoherent.

Something like ‘he better like this’? No that can’t be right that had to be wishful thinking right?

He didn’t have time to contemplate it, distracted by her wiggling out those godforsaken tight shorts leaving her in pretty lacy panties that just barely did their job.

He had to bite his lower lip to keep himself from making a noise as he watched her resettle on the bed. He wished he could be there with her, putting her in that position she was placing herself in and groaning into her about the slutty little show she was giving.

Her ass in the air face unfortunately obscured but pussy on display with those pretty panties pushed to the side.

He didn’t bother to even consider hesitating on pulling his sweats down just enough to free his aching cock. Eyes trained on what he could see through the cracks of the door and hand following her rhythm as he imagined her riding his dick instead of her own fingers.

How was that even comfortable? Was it even satisfying? He bet he could make her feel so much better she let him. Could make her scream and beg for his fucking cock and cum.

Treat her like his perfect pretty little whore and make her say his name over and over and.…

“F-fuck Katsuki please”.

He couldn’t stop himself from growling and he swore he didn’t care if she heard him and the grunted out swears he let slip.

She was thinking about him, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He watched her thick little fingers picking up pace as he fucked into his hand.

She was thinking of him. She wants him. Wants that pretty little cunt full of her stepbrothers cock. God he doesn’t care anymore. He has to fuck her. He doesn’t care, he knows she wants it she’s begging for it right now.

Who gives a shit if it makes him a bad person?

She’s calling his name and he can’t take it anymore he has to have her now.

He could almost laugh at the pathetic whimper of finally he got out of her when he pulled her hand away from her.

She knew he was their the whole time, huh?

She cried out at the sharp stinging sensation of his palm meeting her ass mixed with his sudden rough pace that started the moment he entered her.

“Shut it brat, you don’t get to complain. You fucking deserve this. Making me feel insane and teasing me”. He growled, hand making contact again earning a whine and a pleasant little surprise of being begged to punish her properly.

[i-need-air]

"You promise?" Bakugou Katsuki x PS!Reader;

Word count: 3.3k;

Warnings/tags: nsfw; smut and then some plot happened; no beta, we die like men here; f!reader; plus-size!reader; aged up Bakugou; implied Pro-Hero Bakugou;

Notes: So I have decided to write more stories about plus size readers because I can't find many and that's discouraging. This one is me testing the waters, but expect some more. Thank you for reading! 💕

You gasped as he turned your body around, manhandling you with ease and pushing your chest hard against the messy and undone bed. He was breathing hard, trying to calm himself up as he pumped his cock in one hand, the other grasping the curve of your bare ass with force.

You whimpered, desperate to get filled again as he took you away from your increasing need to orgasm, cunt clenching into the air, feverish and needy.

When his palm collapsed into your bum, your whole body shook and a lewd, desperate and almost crazed moan left your mouth.

"Shit—" his fingers dug back into your ass, shaking it as he licked his lips. "—you're so fucking sexy, princess." God, his voice was delicious. So rough and somehow still sounded like honey into your ears.

"Katsuki, please..." you glanced back at him, momentarily taken back by how intense those ruby orbs of his were already expecting yours. Sweaty, naked, chiseled chest luscious, panting heavily, one hand still pumping his cock in slow manners. His expression was delicious to say at least, desire written all over him. Your soaked core spasmed involuntarily when his wet tongue licked his lips, grinning at you.

"Fuck me, princess—" the tip caressed your entrance slowly and you mewled, trying to back into it and get any sort of friction. "—that fucker was an idiot to let you go." The tip went in, just barely, and you bit your lip in anticipation.

Hell, you forgot about that idiot. Just a flash of his idiotic face came through your mind before Katsuki pushed inside, slow, pleased with himself as you opened your trembling legs to welcome him yet again.

"Katsu, please, fuck me already..." almost ashamed you said, but your body craved him like it never craved anything or anyone else. So thick, so big, you swore you could feel the large veins running over his cock as he dipped in more.

"Fucking—" he groaned, leaning over and grabbing your plump hips, fingers dipping into your soft, malleable skin. "—perfect—" his first real, deep trust made your eyes roll in pleasure. Yes, yes, yes was all you could think. "—begging for my cock like that." His raspy voice suddently sounded by your ear before he bit down into your shoulder and you moaned, already half gone.

He filled you so good, so well with each trust. Your body shook, his chest glued to your back, sweat mixing together. The sound of skin slapping skin drove you mad and the audible wetness of your pussy didn't even make you ashamed.

Katsuki started almost destroying your cunt with each increasing moan of yours. You whimpered as he still manhandled you with no problem, adoring how strong he was to be able to lift all your top half and still pump into you without pause.

Cloudy mind, thoughts all gone, only the fact that your lowel stomach was on fire remained. And those fucking hands of his, so incredibly big were grabbing your breasts, molding as he groaned.

"—tsuki!" You needed it. You needed him. Your body begged for its release with fervor so without realizing it, your hand moved to rub your clit as you panted loud. He grabbed your wrist just as you were about to reach your destination.

"No, princess—" just to make the point clear, with another hand he locked your neck in place, pulling just enough to curve the small of your back into him. The new sensation made you whimper again. Hard enough to keep you locked in place but not enough to blurr your vision. Not that it was needed, since his continuous rhythm straight into your core did it anyways. "—'m gonna take care of you." He whispered into your cheek, lips glued to your skin. Katsuki almost sounded desperate but you couldn't tell much as he started rubbing your clit just above it with jerky, unfocused movements and you screamed a moan, clenching around his cock.

He was losing his mind, he couldn't think clear. His own moans, grunts and growls accompanied your sweet voice and this was heaven for him. For how many nights he dreamed of fucking your pretty little pussy? How many fucking times he jerked off to the image of you? And here you were, spread opened for him, mewling his name like a prayer, any other words forgotten. Bakugou threw his head back in a silent thank to the heavens as your cunt clenched yet again against him.

The moment he pushed your body into his member, that's when you trembled. Close, so fucking close. You forgot how to talk so you just begged as you were slammed again and again into him, feeling so small and weak in comparison to his brutal strength.

"I'm gonna— nngh— I'm—" you attempted but the sound of your squelching pussy distracted you. God, you were so, so wet, and God, he was fucking you so, so good.

"You gonna come, baby?" He gritted his teeth, pushing himself into your body, meeting you half-way. "You gonna cum on my cock?"

"Mmm—y-yeah." Almost. Almost. More! "Fuck! Harder! Please, please, plea—"

He didn't hesitate. If you thought he was rough, rhythm unforgiving into your tight pussy before, the way he thrusted his hips roughly, brutally into you made you instantly spasm. Eyes rolled back, mouth opened and lewd, desperate cries never as loud, your vision blackened for a second as you came. His fingers were still on your over-abused clit, rubbing and prolonging the orgasm as it came in waves.

He groaned into your neck, hips movements jerky as he chased his own release, feeling you milk him tightly as you came and came. The way you moaned his name drove him to the edge as he almost said it. The three words he felt for more than a year now. How he fucking wanted to break you as he swore them, but not yet.

As you rode your orgasm, you felt his approach. His strong fingers left your nub, instead he opted to wrap his whole arm around you and push his final, jerky moves before he groaned your name loudly into your ear. With few pumps left, cum filling your cunt and painting your walls white, you tilted your head to moan for him as your skin tingled under his touch. Your lips met in a slow kiss as he still rubbed against you until he finally stilled.

The palm of his hand pulled you closer by the cheek, deepening the kiss. You were both breathing heavily, throwing sloppy mouth opened kisses and trying to recover from what just happened.

"Fuck, princess..." still inside of you, he kissed and kissed, from your lips your jaw and back again to your mouth. With a hiss, he pulled from you but didn't go further back, instead he opted to turn you back towards him and gently lead you to lay down on the bed before he landed on top of you with a grunt.

"Holy fuck..." you muttered absolutely dazed while looking at the ceiling, feeling him rub himself against your ample chest and wrapping his arms all over your body. Did that just happen? You thought. It earned a snicker from him immediately.

"You can say that."

Handsy. Even if he was still panting, his hands grabbed flesh, palms dragging from your ass to hips to your shoulder blade, back to your chest to mold with it. It felt so natural, like you've done this countless times before, but no. This started as an unfortunate night and turned into perfection.

Tongue ran between your breasts, licking the sweat away and making you finally look down at the Adonis of a man plastered over you. He was giant, enormous. Big muscles, tanned and scarred skin, a head of fluffy ash blond hair and mischievous and dazy eyes. He looked drunk, you thought at first with a giggle, to which he raised a brow at you as his tongue reached upwards into your collarbone but your hand grasped the hairs at the back of his neck to pause him.

"Behave." You scolded. It was taking a while to recover from that earth shattering orgasm and he seemed to enjoy seeing you still attempt to regain all your senses.

His teeth ran over the bone before he left open mouthed kisses, long and watery. You tried to push him away gently but the shockwave of pleasure ran through your whole body and you gave him more access.

"Can't fucking expect me to behave—" he mocked, touching everywhere; so warm and heavy on your body, leaving a trail of lava. Not even noticing it, his thumb ran over your hardened nipple as he palmed your chest and Bakugou smirked into your collarbone when you arched into him, craving move. "—when you practically beg me to fuck you again like that, hmm?" It came out slurred as he licked your skin clean, then bit and licked again.

Katsuki wasn't going to let this opportunity waste. He was going to mark you and make you his again and again until all you knew was his name, his face and his cock burried inside of you. For so fucking long he waited...

His knee parted your tights as he grabbed your face into a forceful kiss. He dragged his lips long and hard against yours and grunted into your accepting moan. The way you pushed back into the kiss with the same strength sent a jolt down his body straight to his dick, loving how needy you were for him, adoring how you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

Feverish and again desperate, you rubbed your tight into his hardening member just to feel his breath tremble and fan over your face, satisfaction running through you.

But you halted and froze when his palm moved down, rubbing over your stomach casually. He wanted to reach lower and make you whimper again in his mouth, just as he fastly learned to adore, but your sudden change in attitude made him snap his eyes open and freeze in place as he waited for you to say anything.

He blinked worried as he caught your in guard expression, but your orbs didn't meet. You just looked down at the placement of his hand, lips pursed.

Images of your ex boyfriend flashed again in your mind, but this time the whole scenario took over. How he berated you, how he insulted you. How disgusted he looked as he gave you an up and down, calling you all sort of names in relation to your weight.

He saw it. The hurt in your eyes was so clear it almost made him bolt out of bed to go punch a mother-fucker. But no, at least not at the moment. Even if his guts turned with rage, all he wanted to do was to finally make it right. To finally make you his, something he should've done the moment he firstly met you and knew you were perfect for him.

Bakugou Katsuki was finally ready to talk and not let another opportunity waste ever again. He almost lost you once to a piece of garbage. It was time.

"I meant it." He ran his hand towards your hip to bring you back to reality. Your furrowed brows showed confusion as you really did try to hide under him. From his own gaze.

God, Katsuki wanted to kill someone. "You're perfect. You better fucking know that." He growled, lowering his face to yours again as he read your expression thoroughly. There was no escaping him once he made his decision. He was a stubborn asshole and planned to be your stubborn asshole after this.

A grin washed over him as he noticed how flustered you became but it didn't satisfy him. The look of bashful uncertainty, the millisecond it appeared and dissappeared from your expression was enough to make him know he'll always make sure to remind you that, in fact, you are perfect.

"You don't fucking get it, hah?" He growled into your lips before landing a strong peck. "You don't see how fucking beautiful you are." Another one. "How sexy and amazing you are." He growled into you this time, tongue invading your mouth as he layed all his body weight on you.

Iron grip parted your legs as he mindlessly positioned himself between them, fingers digging into your tight for support. But he stopped himself to place his forehead against yours, leaning on his elbow and hand into fist by your head.

"I had to watch you date that fucker for months." Your mouth went dry as he closed his eyes, not knowing he was trying to erase the memory of you kissing someone else; the memory of the bitterness on his tongue when barely a month prior to you dating that trashbag he finally realized just how deep he was in love with you; the dullness in his heart when you started fading away from your friendship to be with what ended to be a shit stain of a man.

"I had to watch the woman I fucking loved be with someone else—" his jaw clenched and he still had to open his eyes. It was hard to open up. His throat burned and he knew, if he dared to open them, he'd fall again into your spell and would forget how to talk. "Shit, [Y/N]—" he started cussing and the following kiss was so different, fragile even.

Meanwhile, the growing butterflies in your stomach started revolting as you observed the man that stole your heart a year ago struggle to confess that all that time he felt the same way. You didn't miss his trembling lip, or how he masked a sniffle with a sharp inhale as he breathed you in for a slow, needy kiss. Encircling him into your arms, you pulled and grasped his back muscles until you were almost one.

"I can't— I can't lose you again." He confessed. "Let me—" any attempt to talk got stuck in his throat. The moment he opened his eyes to ultimately seek you in, all he found was you tearing up under him. God, he almost panicked violently, about to jump back and regret making you uncomfortable with anything he word vomited but that was until he saw your smile, the corners of your lips shaky. Why did you look broken though?

"You loved me?"

"Love." Not even a moment to breathe he gave you, just corrected your sentence with no second thought. "I love you."

"You love me." You gaped at him, smile widening and tears falling freely. Bakugou did not know what the hell to do anymore so he opted to curtly nod, his heart playing the drums in his chest, same chest that was now colored red.

The same guy that fucked you roughly just to make you forget of a piece of shit ex that made you feel less than adequate, the same man that forced a kiss into you and somehow managed to get you into your own bed to make you feel like a goddess, the same ridiculous idiot that made you experience nirvana was now getting red of embarrassment.

But we're also talking about the same man that also did not know how to say what he truly felt unless he threatened to obliviate someone. The same man that took it upon himself to tell you he in fact loved you.

"I always loved you, Katsuki." Your lips trembled as you covered your eyes to wipe the tears threatening to fall like a cascade.

"You—?" How could you miss his choked up expression? "You... always loved... me?" The rush you felt at his cracked voice made your heart break. "Why didn't you— And... why the hell did you fucking— Why the hell did you start dating that fucking asshole then?"

Ah, that. It wasn't easy to remember those days. The way he ignored everyone, the way he always focused on his hero work, the way he snapped at you and treated you just as an annoyance at times, not much different of how he treated the others that managed and succeeded to somehow befriend him. You were friends, somewhat good friends, but that's it. Bakugou Katsuki would've never looked at you that way anyway. Impossible. Not when he had fangirls swarming over him every day. He payed them no mind but you knew it wouldn't take long for him to find someone. Your poor heart would've broken at the mere sight of him final finding a person truly deserving of him and you did not want to be there whenever it happened. The sea of absolutely beautiful women that started surrounding him just as he got more famous threatened to thicken day by day. It was only time...

"I wanted to move on because..." Your ex asked you out, plain and simple. And you launched yourself at the opportunity with desperate claws, all just to get away from an imminent heartbreak. To forget about...

"Because?!"

"I never thought you'd ever be with someone like... me..." His soul left his body momentarily. Blank red eyes just stared at you until an ugly scowl washed over him.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?!" But you just sighed and looked down at your plump and curvy body, signaling with your hand as if it was obvious yet got another blank stare. "That supposed to mean something?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Katsuki. Like you never heard people commenting about us whenever we went out. It's fucking weird!" You attempted to push him off you but he did not bulge, just scowled. "It was weird when we were friends— I'm so fat and you're just so—" you push again but don't attempt to finish the sentence. "They all whispered how the fuck can you be around m—me!"

"Who the fuck dared to say that?" The icy tone made you freeze.

"Everyone. Everywhere we went."

"HAH?!" Your wrist was in his grip as he tried to catch your attention. "And who the fuck cares what they think?!"

"I did..." You mumbled, giddy and ashamed at the same time, feeling so out of place arguing after you both confessed. "I thought— I think that too."

"Fuck no." He deadpanned.

"What?" You stupidly asked, confused.

"I said fuck no. You don't get to fucking think that about the woman I love, dumbass." There he is. You blurted out laughing at his random remark. The way he easily made your chest burn with love, straightforwardly throwing such words without care. "The fuck you laughing at? I'm serious. I will break you, woman." You giggle some more because he sounded dead serious. Tension washed off his shoulders but he did not sound teasing, just matter-of-factly.

There was more to talk about, but your eyes stung, your heart went through a tsunami in a single day and you just now remembered how awfully naked both of you actually were. As if suddently shy under the memories of rushed sex, kisses and confessions, you bit your lip and batted your eyelashes at him. Maybe it was time to meet him in the middle.

He finds himself enthralled at the sight under him. Specially at how your lips curled deliciously before you said: "You promise?"

And that's how Bakugou Katsuki groaned and barely surpressed a cuss before falling back into your arms, ready to show you that indeed you two are made for each other. To imprint in that pretty head of yours that you're perfection to him.

[drakenology]

boyfriend number 2

- hinata shoyo x fem!reader x miya osamu

minors dni.

warnings: 18+ content, smut, infidelity, exhibitionism (yall already know lol), degradation, dumbification/incoherence, cussing, raw sex, mentions of cum, raunchy hook up, poor unsuspecting boyfriend

Every day of the week you’re subjected to a routine. The same routine you’d been living since high school. With the same boy since high school.

Sure, Hinata was quite possibly the perfect boyfriend. He was sensitive and attentive, so sweet you almost felt sick. But in bed.. well he did his best. Always cumming a bit too quickly, nearly finishing you off or not even driving you close to an orgasm. You’d lost count of the amount of times you’ve faked it with him and with him being as sweet as he is Hinata didn’t suspect a thing. But you loved him, really you did. Hopefully, eventually, you could teach him how to please you.

But every so often, every now and again you found yourself with someone else. Sure it was wrong, but it was just different with him. With Osamu. Osamu was the hot volleyball player from out of town you had met one foggy night at the bar. It was supposed to be a one time thing, you swore to yourself.

But with the way he fucked you that night, you found yourself coming back for more everytime. You swore with every orgasm came a high you could never get with Shoyo. When you felt that ache of need, that dull feeling in your dissatisfied cunt when Shoyo went home for the night, you knew exactly who to call. And Osamu always answered, always so ready and willing to give you a filling the right way.

Not to mention he was insatiable, every spot left untouched and wavering would then be caressed, licked, sucked on, fucked. You’ll never forget the times he made you cum so hard, the cops were called from the concerning sound of your high pitched whines and sobs.

Eventually, his neighbors stopped calling when you came over, knowing that when you come over in your pajamas and an over night bag hanging over your shoulder as you happily knock on his door meant you’d be getting your insides flipped about 7 different ways in about a half hour.

Just like usual, Hinata flops next to you in bed. His chest heaves after another “wild” night with his pretty girlfriend who seemed to enjoy herself too. He peppered kisses along your shoulders and up to your ear and whispered a sweet I love you. You smile and close your eyes, sleeping in your boyfriends arms as he followed right behind you.

-bzzzt bzzzt-

Who could be texting you at this hour? You sit up groggily, squinting your eyes at the bright screen of your phone as you pick it up. It was Osamu.

“Be ready in 30, tell your boyfriend you’re goin out ;).” The text read, a familiar feeling in your chest starting to brew as you bit your lip. You slowly slip out of Hinata’s grasp and kiss his forehead, tip toeing around his room to find your clothes and all your belongings.

Just as promised, Osamu arrived in 30 minutes, honking his horn ignorantly as if it wasn’t about 12 o’clock in the fucking morning. You rushed downstairs about as quietly as you could and practically ran towards his car, jumping inside to escape the cold rain.

He drives back to his place with his hand on your inner thigh, his thumb caressing the flesh as his other hand turned the steering wheel. You knew running off with another guy behind your boyfriend’s back was wrong, but why did it feel so right every time you did it? Osamu had everything Hinata didn’t; passion with an attentive and doting nature.

Besides the bedroom, he made you feel like you were the sexiest thing walking. He was exciting and wild and unpredictable. Everything you didn’t know you needed until you started fucking him a month ago.

Even as you kiss Osamu’s lips pinned up against his apartment door, even as your clothes are casted aside all throughout modest space, you still think of Hinata and how much this would crush him if he ever found out. But when Osamu was inside you, shit, who the hell was Hinata? Osamu hoists you over his shoulder, walking into his bedroom with a firm smack on your ass before laying you down on the bed.

“Mm, I missed you, Osamu.” You purr, arching into his body as he kissed and sucked on your neck.

“Ditto.” He mumbled, pulling your panties off when you lift your ass to help him take them off. His hands make their way to your already dripping cunt, clit swollen from the denied orgasm you were forced to endure just moments before coming here.

“What is that motherfucker doing to you, huh?” He asks, apologetically rubbing tender circles on the puffy bud. You yelp, so sensitive your thighs start shaking a little. “Bet he doesn’t even know what this is, does he baby?” You mewl in response, the pleasure going straight to your brain.

Osamu smirks at you, rubbing his fingers along your slit to relish in your wetness, your aching pussy practically gushing for him to do anything to you.

“You get so wet for me, princess. You get this wet for your little boyfriend?” He questions, hooking his fingers inside you to prod at your softest spots. You attempt to answer, shaking your head and letting out a shaky “uh-uh” as he fucks you with his fingers. Osamu kissed you sloppily, moaning into your mouth as his fingers moved faster, the sound of your pussy sucking in his fingers causing his cock to make less room for him in his pants.

Your back arched off the bed, panting as his tongue lapped up your clit, his fingers hooking deliciously against your spongiest spots. His name was written on your lips, the only thing you can say before your stomach is in knots, pathetic moans leaving the pit of your chest as you feel yourself getting oh so close to cumming all over Osamu’s handsome face.

“I-I’m cumming, hnnnn fuck!” You scream, your slick dripping all over Osamu’s hand. He moans against you, pulling you closer as he suckled on your puffy clit. With a high pitched squeal, your coming undone, your thighs closing around his head as you pant heavily.

Osamu’s smirking against your skin before pulling away, wrapping his big hand around your throat and kissing you hotly. Your tongues swirl, moaning against each other as Osamu pulls out his heavy length.

Another thing Hinata lacks. Osamu’s cock always had you feeling so full, the perfect size to get you drooling. His girth alone was impressive, thick veins, the cherry on top. Don’t even get me started on those heavy balls, the ones that swing and slap at your already aching clit with every thrust of his hips. He ran his length along your dripping folds, tapping his perfect head against your clit as your hiss and writhe underneath him, desperate to feel full.

“Want it baby?” He asks, prodding himself at your desperate hole. You nod feverishly, rambling on about how badly you wanted to feel full, how much you wanted to feel him throbbing inside you. Of course your dirty mouth grants you your wish, Osamu’s cock stretching you with a slow motion.

“‘S so fuckin’ tight, baby. Gimme that pussy.” He moans, rutting his hips into yours, hands holding up your thighs to reach deep. You’re sobbing, tears falling onto the pillow beneath you as you let out breathy moans. Osamu’s mouth stop ghosting over yours to sit on his haunches, reaching over and grabbing something.

“Phone for you.” Osamu whispers, handing it to you, not halting his hips for no one. You grab it, darting your eyes at him as his dick kissed your cervix.

“H-Hello?” You croon, trying to sound like you’re half asleep.

“Y/N? Did you go home? Where’d you go?” You hear Hinata ask, unable to answer right away as your mouth hangs open at the searing hot pleasure Osamu’s cock brought you.

“I-I.. Yes. Sorry I didn’t wake you. I just- ah.. didn’t feel well.” You lie, biting your lip and rubbing soft circles on your sensitive clit as Osamu fucks your harder.

“Well, you coulda stayed over. I would have taken care of you.” Shoyo lectured, your mind not even fixated on what he’s saying to you.

You nod as if he could see you, looking up at Osamu with pleading eyes, his thumb replacing your fingers as he played with your clit.

“Go on, baby. Tell ‘em you’re about to cream all over my fuckin’ dick.” Osamu huffs, almost loud enough for Hinata to hear. You chew at your bottom lip, eyes rolling back as Osamu works you open with his cock, hearing Hinata say something hoping you feel better.

The pleasure was too much, your mouth drooling as your lips formed an o-shape. Osamu laughs, realizing you’re way too dumb to rush Hinata off the phone. So he does it for you, like the nice guy he is.

“She’ll call back later. She’s too busy taking my cock to talk right now.” He says before hanging up, turning off your ringer and returning to his work on your cervix.

You blink away tears, throat hurting from all the screaming and whimpering as you approach another mind blowing orgasm.

“Hnnn, fuck, Osamu yes. Your cock’s so fucking big. Need it to make me cum, fuck! Hah shit!” You mewl, wrapping your legs around his strong waist.

“Yeah? Ooo that little fucker has no idea what this feels like, huh princess? Give it to me baby. Fuckin give it to me.” Osamu urged, eager to feel your gummy walls clamp down around him and milk him for every ounce of his cum as he brutally slammed his hips down into you.

“You’re my little whore, yeah? Like it when another man fucks your greedy pussy? Such a dirty slut. Say you’re a dirty slut.”

“I’m a dirty slut, Ah! I-I’m your dirty slut, ‘Samu. Uhhnnn!” The last thing you say before clenching around Osamu’s size, his cock throbbing furiously before erupting in white hot globs of his cum.

It was all so filthy, so raunchy and so wrong. Guilt was the furthest thing from your conscience though, laying limp and half asleep as Osamu pulled out and went to grab a towel to clean up. How could something so erotic be wrong.

You’d call Hinata tomorrow, try and explain everything when the time was right. But for now, you’d just lay there in your stupor, high off the euphoric orgasms you’ve experienced just then.

Tomorrow you’d make it right, even though it probably never could be.