#hook and loop strap

[sophiewuu]

hook and loop reflective wrist tape

Hook and loop reflective wrist tape is a type of safety accessory commonly used for visibility enhancement, particularly in low-light conditions. It typically consists of a strap made of reflective material, often with a hook and loop fastener for easy adjustment and secure closure around the wrist. The reflective material reflects light back to its source, making the wearer more visible to others, such as drivers, cyclists, or pedestrians, especially during nighttime or in poor visibility conditions. This type of wrist tape is often used by runners, cyclists, construction workers, and others who need to increase their visibility and safety in dimly lit environments

For any requirement contact:sales@singmoontech.com

[enby-cuntboy]

thinking about an escape room but the twist is that if you don't get out in time, you're used by the entire staff until they're satisfied.

you know what you're getting into, of course. you sign the forms saying that the facility can't be held liable for any damages that happen to you. afterwards, you're stripped down and restrained. cuffs around your wrists behind your back as you're bent over a table, chains holding your ankles together. a collar is attached to your neck, connected in two places. one, to hold you still on the table. and the other connected to the ceiling with a lot of slack. you seem to be in a dungeon, iron bars blocking the unlocked exit.

you're left alone and the timer is placed immediately in front of you, counting down, minute by minute. right where you can see it. the restraints are firm and secure, but they each have their give, their weaknesses. the chains on your feet can be undone by looping it around the corner of the table and pulling at it at just the right angle. then you have to move your cuffed wrists behind your back and under your legs so you can use them.

the part of the collar connecting you to the table is dealt with by simply unhooking it, meaning you're able to stand up and move around the room. there's a box with a pile of keys for you to sort through. one of them must open the cuffs. one of them must unlock the bars. you sort through them in a hurry, adrenaline making your cuffed hands shake as you try each and every one of them, adding them gradually to the discard pile. once your hands are free, you fiddle with your collar. it doesn't seem to have any give. but while doing this, you see that on the other side of the iron bars is a bolt cutter, exactly what you need.

you're invigorated, trying all the keys on the bars as the minutes count down. your time is scarce, it's moving far more quickly than you're able to take into account. until finally, the lock clicks. the metal gate swings open and you can see the bolt cutter on the floor right in front of you.

except when you walk forward, the collar around your neck tugs you back. the tool is just out of reach. you can't get enough slack to pick it up. you try desperately, every option you can think of, to stretch your body out and try and kick the bolt cutter closer to you, desperately now as you see you only have three minutes remaining, then two, then one and a half.

until you finally remember the chains on your feet. you hurry back to the table, reaching under it to grab the chains and looking at the time left on the timer. 50 seconds. you hurry back to the iron bars, throwing the chains, trying to lasso the bolt cutter to finally get it in your grasp. and with 20 seconds remaining, the tool hooks onto the end of the shackles on the chains, and you desperately try reeling it in. 15 seconds, and you're pulling it closer, so very carefully. until finally, you reach down and wrap your hands around the tool and that's when your heart sinks.

it wasn't a bolt cutter. it was a toy. lightweight and useless, like something that would go in a child's tool set. and you realise: you were never meant to escape this. you never even had a chance. you had willingly walked into a trap.

your time is up and an alarm sounds, the lighting in the room turning red. the staff walk through the door, heading straight for you, cocks and straps and toys in hand, grins of delight on their faces.

they push you back onto the table and use you exactly how they want to, each and every one of them noticing how soaked you've gotten just from being in the escape room and playing this game, mocking you for what a slut you are as they take you without any preamble.

they use all your holes simultaneously, manhandling you into whatever positions they want. bending you over, taking you from behind. seeing how much can fit into you at once. slapping you about, spitting on you, spanking and whipping, passing you from one to another. never a moment for you to rest or recover before you're impaled on another cock.

all while their mocking voices taunt you.

this is what you were asking for when you came here. this is exactly what you were hoping for. to be used relentlessly. you never wanted to escape anyway, no matter what you'd say. you needed to be used like this. only sluts ever enter these escape rooms, and so you would be treated as what you were. willing holes for them.

once they've all had their turn, they take the toy bolt cutter and shove it into your used hole, fucking you with it slowly. it's too big and uncomfortable, but you stretch around it so easily after all that use. your arousal making it easy. you keep crying out, and they keep laughing. this was the thing you thought would set you free. this was your salvation for twenty minutes or so, all you cared to get. and now they were filling you with it. and worse than that, they were making sure you enjoyed it.

they bring you to an intense orgasm with the very thing you thought would save you. your mind is foggy and you can't think of much aside from the feeling of the toy inside you. you're burning with embarassment.

you came so close to escaping. you were so resourceful and clever about it all. but now you were nothing but holes for them to use until they decided they were done. all that intelligence you used to try and get out would leak out with your arousal as they continued to whore you out. your brain would never work the same once they were done with you. once they had reduced you to something so pathetic.

they aren't done using you. they won't be for a while. and you don't know if you ever want to be done serving them. this is where thinking got you, and now you were being put in your place.

[petshopbutch]

really flirtatious douchebag butch who keeps hooking their fingers into the belt loop of their femmes low rise jeans and snapping her bra strap. who spreads their legs obnoxiously in every seat they sit in, patting their thigh so their femme can take a seat, one arm thrown over her shoulder and their hand ""accidentally"" resting right on her left tit. who calls her doll and babe and sweetheart more than they call her her actual name, and brags to their friends about making her cum four times in a row, and leers at her every time she looks their way.

really flirtatious douchebag butch who, as soon as their femme returns that energy at all - tugging them in by their tie and calling them honey and resting her head on their shoulder, hot breath ghosting over their neck - become a stammering red-faced mess. all confidence and cockiness replaced by nervous laughter and avoided eye contact and a waver in their voice. a gentle (and kinda sweaty) hand pressed to their femmes lower back to balance her in their lap as well as to steady their nerves. worried that since they can't smooth talk anymore she'll get bored of them and leave when in reality this is the reaction she's been hoping for all night.

[valeisaslut]

riding country!ellie with your hands tied behind your back. that’s all i have to say baby ☺️💗

blessed are the ones who sin .♱ ݁˖

♱ word count: 2.8k 𖥔 ݁ ˖-

♱ content warnings: country!ellie x preacher’s daughter!reader, dom!reader x light sub!ellie, semi-public barn sex, religious guilt/blasphemy kink, bondage (wrists tied), spit kink, overstimulation, ass slapping, strap-on sex, mutual filth, southern accents, reader in control, ellie gets ruined, overstimmed & begging, both unholy and holy. MEN AND MINORS DNI, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated 𖥔 ݁ ˖

late summer air hangs thick with the smell of hay and something sweeter— like sin and sweat, like the hot ache of wanting something you ain’t supposed to. the crickets scream from the fields just outside, but inside it’s so quiet you can hear the sound of her chewing gum and the faint creak of the wooden beam you’re tied to.

your wrists are bound behind your back with her bandana. the red one. the one she always ties around her forehead when she’s fixing up her truck or working the stables. it smells like leather and salt and a her. something wild and unruly, something that’s never knelt for god in her life.

you’re kneeling in front of her. back straight. chin high. sweat rolling down your neck.

and ellie’s sitting in the hayloft ladder like it’s a damn throne, legs spread wide in those old jeans and boots caked in dirt, thumb hooked in her belt loop like she’s got all the time in the world.

“you always this mouthy for jesus, baby?” she drawls, slow and thick like molasses.

you raise your brow, smiling through the tension. “only on sundays.”

she laughs — low, rough, half-wicked. not the first time you’ve said something blasphemous in front of her, and it sure as hell won’t be the last.

there’s a rhythm to the way you sin with her. steady, worn into the floorboards. you’ve been sneaking around since spring, maybe longer, depending on how you measure guilt. maybe it started the moment she saw you barefoot on the porch, twirling a popsicle in your mouth with your sunday dress hitched up too high, your smile too slow. maybe it started when she smiled back.

your family doesn’t know.

god help them if they ever did.

they don’t ask where you go in the evenings. don’t ask why you’ve started skipping bible study or why your sheets smell like smoke. they just keep making plans, setting your place at someone else’s table. they say austin’s got a strong back and a clean conscience. that his daddy runs the feed store and his mama’s been praying for a girl just like you. they say you’ll grow to love him, that it’s god’s will, that you were made to serve— soft hands, closed legs, a white dress that won’t wrinkle.

they say purity like it’s a scripture you forgot how to recite.

because your body’s already spoken, louder than any psalm. it remembers the first time ellie touched you — fingers calloused from leather and sun, but gentle when they slipped beneath the cotton hem of your skirt in the back of her truck. it remembers the kiss behind the grain silo, your breath stuttering in her mouth, the way her hands gripped your hips like she was holding back a prayer she didn’t know how to say.

it remembers that sunday service, all tight smiles and tighter throats, when her hand brushed yours beneath the pew and your knees nearly buckled. you said amen with her fingerprints still blooming across your thighs, half a hymn tangled in your teeth.

ellie’s a cowboy. not the kind in songs, the real kind. boots worn through, flannel rolled to the elbows, jaw shadowed, shoulders broad. she rides horses, fixes fences, spits sunflower seeds out the side of her truck.

she’s got the kind of swagger your daddy would call a sickness. the kind of mouth your mama would pray out of you.

and she's kind of girl you couldn’t stop looking at since the day she rode into town with nothing but a duffel bag and a chip on her shoulder.

she doesn’t ask you to be quiet, doesn’t beg you to repent. she lays you down like a secret, one she knows the world will never be good enough to keep.

and you want her.

not just the rough edges, not just the danger.

you want the whole damn thing.

every inch of her, every breath. every long, aching night when she climbs through your window and fucks you so slow you forget how to say god’s name.

“reckon you got no shame,” she murmurs, her southern drawl curling around each word like smoke, eyes dragging over you slow. “kneelin’ for me in your daddy’s barn like a damn altar.”

you smile, all sugar. “ain’t shameful if he ain’t watchin’.”

ellie hums, low in her throat, and shifts forward on the wooden step. she’s flushed already, cheeks rosy, freckles darker in the barnlight. her hat’s tipped back off her head, hair tucked behind her ears. there’s a glint of sweat on her neck.

the strap’s already buckled on her hips —she always comes prepared, cocky little shit— but she hasn’t moved to use it. not yet.

“you been thinkin’ 'bout me?” she asks.

“every night.”

“and what exactly you think about?”

you tilt your head, testing her. “ridin’ you till you cry.”

her eyes flare. that sharp little twist of want crosses her face. the one that makes her jaw flex, her tongue swipe over her lip like she’s trying not to show how bad she wants it.

“you talk real big for someone with her hands tied,” she says, voice slipping a notch lower.

you lean forward, still on your knees, bare from the waist down, tank top damp with sweat and sticking to your back.

“you ain’t never had me ride you proper,” you murmur. “scared you’ll like it too much?”

ellie’s breath catches.

and it doesn’t take much to get her on her back.

ellie can act big and bad all she wants, but there’s something in the way she looks at you, like you’re the only one who ever unraveled her, that makes her pliant under your hands.

or in this case, under your hips.

you straddle her slowly, wrists still bound behind your back, breath caught somewhere between anticipation and ache. it’s awkward at first —not being able to steady yourself— but ellie helps. her hands find your waist, strong and sure, roughened by rope and reins. she holds you like she’s done it a hundred times, like your body was made to fit the mold of her grip.

her strap’s thick, veined, rubber catching light in the humid barn air. when you start to sink onto it, your whole body clenches. it’s wider than you remember, heavier. it doesn’t ease in; it claims space. stretches you open inch by inch until you can feel the pressure bloom behind your ribs, until your cunt swallows the whole length in a slow, trembling glide.

your breath stutters, your thighs shake. it’s not pain, it’s more than that— a full-bodied, spine-deep throb that makes your eyes roll back.

“oh, fuck,” you breathe, voice cracking.

ellie groans, low and drawn out, green irises dark and blown as she watches you sink down onto her cock. her head tips back, resting against the old hay bale, hips twitching up into your heat.

you can feel everything— the drag of the strap against your walls, the way it nudges deeper with every tiny shift. your slick is making it shine where it disappears into you, every breath you take rolls down your spine and settles between your legs. the fullness is obscene, glorious, a weight that makes you feel stuffed and ruined before you've even moved.

“god damn,” she pants, eyes stuck on the place where her cock disappears into you. “look at you.”

ellie’s hands are gripping your ass now, fingertips digging in, not guiding anymore. grounding. bracing. her thighs are tense under yours, trembling with restraint.

she wants to move, to buck up and fuck into you until you forget your name.

but she’s holding back, letting you take your time. letting you own it.

and you bounce— once, then twice, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the hayloft’s hush. it knocks the breath out of both of you.

then you stop.

“ellie.”

she looks up at you.

“spit in my mouth.”

her pupils dilate. something primal cuts across her face— a ripple of heat, a helpless twitch of her hips.

“jesus,” she whispers. then obeys.

you tilt your head back, tongue out, jaw slack. her spit lands hot and thick on your tongue, and your whole body jolts. the heat of it, the weight of her watching you take it.

you swallow it without blinking.

“good fuckin' girl,” she murmurs. voice gone hoarse, reverent, ruined.

“you like that?” you rasp, “like seein’ me all tied up and fuckin’ filthy?”

her answer is a sound you feel more than hear, a moan that starts in her chest and ends in yours.

she pulls the hat off her head.

her auburn locks are damp with sweat, stuck to her forehead. she looks fucked-out already. she twirls the hat once on her finger, then leans forward and settles it right on your head, tilting it low over your brow with a crooked grin.

“there,” she rasps. “now ride me, baby. you know how the sayin’ goes.”

your jaw slackens. your cunt clenches.

and then, you start to really ride her. slow, then faster, letting the friction drag against your clit each time you sink down. it’s messy as it can be. your hands useless behind your back so you can’t hold her, can’t even touch yourself.

all you can do is ride and burn and take it.

and ellie, ellie’s gone. her mouth’s open, eyes half-lidded, jaw slack as she watches you move. she’s panting now, chest heaving beneath her tank. one hand goes to grip your thigh, the other still sitting heavy on your ass.

“god, you look so good like this,” she mumbles. “like a damn dream.”

you roll your hips with a slow grind that makes both of you cry out.

“feel good?” you whisper.

“fuck—yeah. you ridin’ me so good, baby.”

you lean in closer, breath hot against her ear. “you want me to keep goin’?”

she nods, desperate, pupils blown.

“beg.”

you feel her shiver.

“please. please, baby — keep goin’. don’t stop, feels so fuckin’ good—”

you kiss her, hard and messy, even though you can’t hold her, even though it’s more teeth than grace. she whimpers into your mouth, arms wrapping around your back, pressing you flush against her chest.

and still, you ride. up and down, forward and back, each motion deliberate, unrelenting. the cock fucks into you with a rhythm that blurs into need, into instinct. your thighs tremble, your cunt flutters around the length, soaked and stretched, chasing the high that builds with every ruthless grind.

“ellie—”

“i got you,” she whispers. “come for me, baby. c’mon. make a mess all over me, i don’t care— fuck—”

and you do.

it slams into you like a storm. a white-hot burst of heat that shoots down your spine, curls your toes, makes you sob out her name. you collapse against her, writhing, gasping, clenching around nothing but rubber and the heat of her body beneath yours.

ellie holds you, whispers into your neck.

“that’s it. that’s it, pretty girl.”

when you finally stop shaking, breath still catching in your throat, you feel her shift beneath you— just a subtle twitch of her hips, but desperate. like her body’s chasing a high that isn’t hers yet, grinding up into you like it’s her cock inside you, like she can feel every pulse of your cunt in the aftermath.

you pull back just enough to see her face, flushed and slack, her freckles dusted pink, mouth parted. all bravado gone.

“you wanna come too?” you ask, voice soft. shaky.

she nods, fast. eyes wide, red in the cheeks, almost embarrassed.

“then do it."

and just like that, her hands clamp down on your hips, tight, possessive. she starts to thrust up into you with real rhythm— hard, measured, punishing. it’s not just desperate now, it’s practiced, deep. each stroke hits something sharp inside you, something raw and overused, and your whole body jolts with the contact.

the hat on your head tips forward from the force, nearly sliding off. ellie pushes it back with one hand —her eyes still locked on your face— then brings that same palm down on your ass in one sharp slap that makes you gasp, your cunt clenching around the strap with a wet squeeze.

“ride it,” she growls. “come on, baby — fuckin’ ride it.”

you’re already grinding back down to meet her thrusts, overstimulated, every nerve flaring. the strap’s deep inside you, dragging against every swollen edge, and now it’s unbearable— too much, too good, too slick. your body doesn’t know whether to fight it or surrender.

you choose the latter.

you ride her again, even as your thighs shake, even as tears prick the corners of your eyes and the most unholy whimpers and high-pitched moans can't stop falling from your lips. the overstimulation starts as heat, sharp and mean, but then melts into something hotter, filthier. a second orgasm building beneath the wreckage of the first.

ellie’s losing it. thrusting up like she’s fucking for survival, moaning into the space between your bodies, forehead damp, chest slick.

“tell me who you belong to,” she rasps, voice breaking.

“you—fuck—you, baby. always you. always.”

her hips stutter. her fingers bruise your skin.

and you feel it hit her — sudden, unstoppable — the way her thighs snap tight beneath you, her breath punches out in a broken and impossibly slutty cry, her muscles seizing around the thrusts she can’t finish.

you kiss her through it, mouths open, gasping into each other’s lungs, her rhythm still brutal beneath you. riding both orgasms out like a storm.

because just as she comes, so do you. your whole body folding over hers like a wave collapsing. you’re shaking, wrung out and wide open, dripping wet all over her.

it’s filthy. frantic. soaking.

there’s a mess between you now—your slick coating her lower stomach, smeared across her pelvis where your bodies kept grinding together. the base of the strap is soaked, and ellie’s clit is twitching beneath the harness, swollen and aching, nerves sparking with the contact, overstimulated and raw. her jeans sitting wrinkled on her knees. she’s breathless. her beautiful face slack and shining, mouth parted in awe.

you’re both still moving, barely— tiny, involuntary pulses that make your bodies tremble against each other, chasing the last shreds of the high. your thighs are trembling. her chest rises and falls like she’s been sprinting.

and when it’s finally over —when you both go limp in the hay, still pressed together, still shaking— she pulls the hat off your head and drops it beside you with a grin.

“jesus christ, baby” she pants.

you laugh, wrecked and breathless.

“he ain't here.”

“no,” she mutters, nosing at your cheek, lips brushing yours. “but you are.”

the silence after is holy. or—unholy, if we’re speaking in strict biblical terms. but it settles over both of you like grace, thick and reverent. a hush that feels sacred, even if it was born of sin.

the kind of silence that follows after church service, when the air is thick with incense and everyone’s misdeeds still hang like ghosts in the rafters.

you sit on her lap, breath still short, wrists still tied. your forehead pressed against hers. her hands trace lazy circles on your thighs.

“think i just saw the lord,” she mutters, voice hoarse.

you laugh, soft. “he didn’t smite us, that’s somethin’.”

ellie chuckles and presses a kiss to your temple.

“ain’t nothin’ wrong with the way we love, baby.”

you shift in her lap, arms aching now.

“you gonna untie me?”

she smirks. “eventually.”

“ellie.”

“i like you like this.”

“ellie.”

she grins, wide and beautiful and ruined.

“alright, alright,” she says, finally reaching behind you to undo the knot. her fingers are gentle now, like she’s undoing a bow on the prettiest present she’s ever gotten.

you roll your shoulders when you're free, and she presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

“still thinkin’ about ridin’ me till i cry?” she asks, lazy, smug.

you hum. “next time.”

and she groans, tilting her head back like she’s already praying for mercy.

you laugh. you kiss her. you taste spit and sweat and salvation.

somewhere in the distance, the church bell rings.

and neither of you answer it.

࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ DAYYUUUMMMMMMMM I ADDED SOME LORE TO MAKE IT MORE INTERESTING BUT GAWD DAMN IM WET W MY OWN WRITING. huge HUGE HUGE love and tysm to MIA THE LOVE OF MY LIFE you live in my brain rent free and you've been here since THE first day. words can't even start to describe how much i love you. my baby. my wife. my real one. will forever love you like the moon loves the sun. okay poetic. but seriously i love you endlessly.

images from pinterest - edited by me

perm taglist (tysm for supporting, hope you enjoy <3): @talyaisvalslutsoldier @miajooz @andiemiaswife @mayfldss @sewithinsouls @coastalwilliams @hotpinkskitties @ssijht @pleasejoel @pariiissssssss @liddy333 @beeisscaredofbees @d1catwhisperer @the-sick-habit @elliescoquettegirl @elliewilliams-wife @yueluv3rrrr @your-eternal-muse @ellies-real-wife @katherinesmirnova @ellies-moth-to-a-flame @thxtmarvelchick @natscloset @lesbiansreverywhere @2against3 @wwefan2002 @ilahrawr @harmonib @piastorys @azteriarizz @starincarnated @natssgf @ukissmyfaceinacrowdedroom @iadorefineshyt @claudiajacobs @urmomssideh0e @kingofeyeliner @womenlover0 @ferxanda @imunpunishable @elliewilliamsloverrrrrrrr @bambi-luvs @maru0uu @mikellie @gold-dustwomxn @nramv @liztreez @eriiwaiii2 @elliewilliamskisser2000 @azxteria @elliecoochieeater

[willyoubemycherryy]

TAKE3🎬 +Clark Kent x Reader_

Even more drafts😭 (wrote this one a while ago)

Summary: In 3…2..1,

Contains: ur drunk🤠but fear not ur bf has ur back, ke$ha mentions, kissing, flirting, petnames, some smut but not all the way bc ur wasted and Clark doesn’t do that, flirting, cursing, teasing, ONE drinking problem JOKE, established relationship, initiated fun times n more

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢ ﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉

“I don’t care what people say-“,

You were drunk.

“The rush is worth the price I pay!”

Hopelessly, totally, and completely plastered. Singing in every key imaginable as you swing your hair around, posing dramatically with one arm while the other loops around his neck for balance. The sweet smell of your perfume and one too many drinks mix with your drunken giggles, creating something he’s learned to uniquely but affectionately call- you.

Clark carries you with one arm, forearm hooked under your knees while the rest of you is snug against his chest and bicep.

Except for when you use him as momentum; completely ignoring his trying to safely get you both up to your apartment and the way you could help by not doing what you were currently doing.

“I loooove you Clarkykins”, you coo. Voice syrupy sweet as he’s suddenly the the center of your attentions and he can’t fight the warmth creeping into his cheeks from the back of his neck despite the awful nickname.

You two have been together for a while now and it’s not the first time you’ve told him but when you say it so unabashedly it makes his heart stutter.

“I love you too my little drinking problem”, he says back affectionately- joking though about the nickname and you gasp in faux offense.

“Hey! I do not have a drinking problem! You have a drinking problem!”

You smush his nose for emphasis and he snorts, shifting you a bit as he fishes the keys from his pocket to unlock the door, nodding in agreement even with the irony of your statement. He- like you- mostly drank socially but unlike you, he could hold his liquor. Being so much bigger and all.

“Of course I do, I’m also the one that’s drunk right now huh?” You nod jerkily- like you were right all along and it’s so cute. Cute how even in inebriation, you’re as stubborn as you normally are- ready to argue him down whether you’re right or not and his grin broadens when you reply sluggishly.

“Exaactly.”

You both get in and Clark softly kicks the door shut behind you, locking it and making a beeline towards your room. A bubbly giggle makes him look down at you, your hand in your dress cupping your favorite boob as you giggle yourself dizzy. He quirks a brow, the corner of his own mouth lifting as he waits for you to catch your breath. When you do..

“We’re sooooo gonna fuck aren’t we?” If he wasn’t holding you, he would’ve stumbled. The back of his neck warms enough to rush down his back and the nerves along with your natural shamelessness make him chuckle.

“Sweets, you’re drunk-“

“Sooo?” You cut him off with a confused pout and he shakes his head in disbelief. There’s no way…

“Sooo, you’re not of sound mind enough for my liking to consent to..”, he pauses as he sets you down on the bed, pointedly looking away from your breasts that you’ve gone from massaging to taking them out completely. Puffy, stiff nipples on display while you pout prettily at him and for a few seconds he looses his train of thought, “…c-consent to intercourse”, he rushes out before pushing himself up to kneel by the end of the bed- wrapping his hand around your ankle, lifting your foot as he takes off your heels. The pattern of the straps left slight indents on your skin and without thinking he lowers his head and kisses them.

Your little gasp lets him know that he’s skating on thin ice with what you want from him and that under normal circumstances, he’d give it to you. Gladly. So he pulls away, rising to his feet while holding yours to his stomach and less than a second later your arms are up as you reach toward him, bottom lip trapped beneath your teeth as you whine and he groans. There were rarely times when he told you no but when he did, it was usually for your own good. Doesn’t make now any easier though.

“Please Clark? Just wan’ a kiss- promise”, you pout, words slurring as you ask extra nicely but he can’t trust it. Because he knows you. Just like he knows that the minute he lets himself fall on top of you, you’re gonna wrap your soft self around him and give him hell until you pass out. He shakes his head, dilating pupils setting on the stiff peaks of your chest. Swallowing harshly.

“No, you want to seduce me.” And you laugh at that. At how miserable he sounds and your buzz becomes a rush as you twist one ankle out of his grip to trail it below his belt; applying pressure to the hardening swell beneath with a sigh that’s a lot less innocent then the way you were looking at him.

“Is it working?” You whisper before a soft yawn escapes you and he’s relieved as he whispers back,

“You tell me.”

Your eyes sparkle and when you reach for him again, he doesn’t resist. Falling on you as your legs wrap around him just like he knew they would. Maybe it’s by gravity, maybe it’s by wind of the fan but he doesn’t push away when you kiss him. Instead he kisses back.

You’ll fall asleep any moment now so there’s no harm in in indulging you. It’s slow but the want is there and the way you melt against him- purring in satisfaction- heats his blood something fierce as he suckles your lips between his own, pushing and pulling until your mouths open wider; slotted hotly against each others when you pull his hair.

The little jolt of pain makes him groan as you roll your hips up into his and he licks firmly into your mouth as you moan weakly, breath slowing but by bit until it eventually evens out and he pulls away but your eyes stay closed. Chest rising and falling peacefully. Asleep.

Clark lets out a deep sigh as he gets off, careful not to jostle the bed too much and disturb you, walking to the bathroom to get your makeup wipes. He takes off your dress after diligently but gently wiping your face clean- ignores his hard on to just look at you. Smiling fondly as he runs his knuckles down the apple of your cheek.

You always managed to give him some kind of trouble before you conked out- especially when you drank but it was just another one of your habits he knew you had that he couldn’t bring himself to mind. He could never mind you.

Like tomorrow he knows you’ll wake up either wanting to pick up where you two left off or craving sweets. For some reason, he misses you when you’re asleep so no matter what you pick when you wake, he’s just happy to be there with you.

Clark gets ready himself, stripping down to just his boxers before climbing into bed with you, huffing at the glitter still in your hair as he presses a kiss to your forehead, pulling you close to him as he falls asleep with your weight warm against his side.

[alltheirdamn]

Rotten | cowboy!joel x f!reader

Flowers

Summary: Joel decides to surprise you with something nice, but you're not in the mood. He's quick to fix your attitude, and put you in your place. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 4k Warnings: No-Outbreak AU, established relationship, bickering and banter, explicit & filthy language, brat taming, reader has an attitude x1000, face slapping, hair pulling, kissing, ball worship, ball sucking, deepthroating, dabble of degredation, praise!kink, facial, f! masturbation, cumplay, rough (and soft) unprotected piv sex, creampie, some fluffy moments, just two idiots in love (even though they can be cranky) A/N: okay okay, i couldn't get enough of them. this is just pure filth, so suck it up buttercups. all my love, always xoxo

Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Part I

“What the fuck are those?” You asked, glaring at Joel as he walked into the stables.

He had a small bouquet of wildflowers gripped in his large hand, a soft grin teasing his lips. You were too focused on getting Mac prepped for a ride to the fields and in no mood for pleasantries. Joel stuck his hand out to you, offering the flowers with a nonchalant shrug.

“What do y’fuckin’ think they are? Christ, you’re in a fuckin’ mood,” he huffed. 

“Only ‘cause you’re getting on my last nerve.”

“Ain’t I always doin’ that?” He teased.

“Oh, shut up.”

You brushed past him, hauling Mac’s leather saddle off the hook on the wall and over to where Mac rested in the stall. Joel followed, his large shadow covering yours as you settled the saddle over Mac’s body. With a loud huff, you turned to Joel, seeing the flowers held tight to his chest. 

“Y’want them or not?” He asked, obviously irritated with your reaction. 

“If I take them, will you go away?”

You held out a hand, waiting for him to give them to you. Joel looked at your hand before sliding his dark gaze up to your eyes. It was a nice gesture, you’ll give him that, but you were running out of daylight to do what you needed before it got too late. 

“Depends,” he mused. “Gonna give me a kiss and say ‘thank you’?”

You rolled your eyes, flexing your fingers as a silent command for the bouquet. 

“Will you go away if I do?”

“Depends on how good y’kiss me,” Joel quipped.

“I hate you, you know that?” You deadpanned.

“Whatever y’say,” he chuckled, tugging you forward by your belt loop. “Fuckin’ brat, c’mere.”

Pressing your body against his, you cupped his scruff-covered jaw and dragged him to your lips. You could feel Joel’s smile against your mouth as you deepened the kiss, your tongue running over his bottom lip as he pulled you closer. Every hard edge of his body molded against yours, and the kiss quickly became consuming and greedy. Oh, it was so easy to get distracted by him. Peeling yourself from his lips, you lightly swatted at his chest and grabbed for the flowers. 

“Good enough for you, old man?”

“Always good enough for me, darlin’,” Joel smiled, kissing you on the forehead. 

“Good. Now, can y’leave me alone?” You asked. “I got things to do.”

You placed the flowers on the stool by the stall doors and came around the other side of Mac. You worked at securing the tie straps under his stomach, tightening them until the saddle stayed firm in place. Mac shifted slightly to the side, his neck knocking into your shoulder as you straightened back up. Looking over Mac, you saw Joel smoothing a hand over his coat, his eyes watching you curiously. 

“So,” he drawled. “Where we goin’?”

“We aren’t goin’ anywhere,” you corrected. “I’m goin’ down to the fields to check on the crops.”

“Lemme come with,” he offered. “I’ll be good company.”

You patted Mac on the jaw before walking back over to Joel, shoving him gently out of the stall. 

“You’ll be a pain in my ass,” you argued.

You braced your hands against his chest for one last shove, but Joel was quick to grab your wrists and pin them at your sides. He had you trapped in his grip, and you squirmed under the heavy gaze that looked down upon you. You knew that look, and you loved it. 

“Reckon I didn’t fuck y’hard enough last night,” Joel said, his voice dropping an octave. “Y’got quite the attitude today.”

You lifted your chin in defiance, giving him a tightlipped smile. It only made his hands squeeze your wrists tighter, the friction of his fingers against your skin burning deep into your flesh. Taunting Joel was easy; it was fun getting him all riled up, and you were really fucking good at pushing his buttons. 

“Whatcha gonna do ‘bout it, Joel?” You dared. “Y’gonna fuck me right here in the stables?”

“You askin’ me to? ‘Cause I will, darlin’. Have you pinned to the ground ‘fore you can even blink.”

“Y’got bad knees, Miller. Not sure that’s a smart idea,” you teased.

Joel stepped forward, crowding you into the wooden panels of the stable walls. His face was a breath away from yours, and you arched into his touch every time his mouth inched closer. You chased his lips, wanting the taste of smoke on your tongue, but he never let himself get close enough. 

“I swear to God, some days y’really know how to piss me the fuck off.”

“It’s what I do best,” you smiled, rolling your tongue along your bottom lip.

Joel’s eyes flicked down to your mouth, watching you push your bottom lip into an innocent pout. He unwound his hands from around your wrists and crowded you against the wall. With his height towering over you, you had to strain your neck to look at his eyes, the soft brown dissolving into a storm of onyx as his pupils engulfed his irises. 

Oh, you were in for it now. 

“Y’know what I do best, darlin’?” Joel challenged. “Reckon I’m real fuckin’ good at teachin’ you how to shut the fuck up. So, y’better get on them pretty lil’ knees ‘fore I force you onto them.”

Every threatening word was a straight bolt of pleasure to your core, and you indulged in his commands, sliding to your knees without a single complaint. Responsibilities be damned, you’d happily obey him when he ordered you around like this. Tilting your head up, you batted your lashes at Joel, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Look at you listenin’ to me like a good lil’ slut,” Joel hummed.

Your fingers teased their way up his denim jeans, tracing over the thick muscles of his thighs. You’d never grow tired of exploring the rugged plains of his body. 

“Maybe I like doin’ what you ask,” you quipped. “I’m still damn good at sassin’ you, though. Don’t y’ever forget that, Miller.”

His hand smoothed down the hair at the crown of your head, petting you softly as he admired you. His softness was always alluring, but you knew you’d make him break the facade until he destroyed you in whichever way he pleased. And your body was begging for it now.

“Trust me, I ain’t ever forgettin’ that. So long as y’never forget I’m the one that gets to silence you for a goddamn minute.”

“Only a minute?” You teased. Bait and switch. “That’s how long y’gonna last, huh?”

Joel’s fingers tightened in your hair, yanking your head back until you strained against his firm grip. Bending slightly, he leveled you with a heavy stare before sending his palm flat against your cheek. You winced at the pain, but it all dissolved into a flood of arousal between your legs. 

“Start undoin’ my belt,” he demanded, straightening back to his full height. “Y’got me real pissed off now, darlin’.”

You gave him a coy smirk before sliding your hands over the leather of his belt, working at undoing the large metal belt buckle that situated itself under the soft pudge of his stomach. The coarse hair collecting over his navel tickled your fingertips as you dragged his jeans down his thick thighs. The black boxers hugging his hips strained against the bulge of his hardened cock, the fabric damp from precum. 

“Ain’t got all day,” Joel huffed, bucking his hips forward.

“Yeah, me neither,” you grumbled to yourself. 

Joel’s hand cupped your jaw, his fingers squeezing your chin hard. You blinked up at him, watching his brows furrow together as he considered your slight attitude. 

“What was that, darlin’?” He questioned.

“You’re wastin’ my time,” you said, voice heightened. “Can you get your dick out so I can get back to my responsibilities?”

Joel found that amusing, huffing a small laugh before hooking his thumbs into the band of his boxers. His cock sprang free, the tip red and dripping with precum. You licked your lips instinctively as you inched your body forward. Reaching for his thick length, you parted your lips to take the head of his cock into your mouth. 

“Nuh uh, not yet,” Joel tutted. 

He gripped the base of his cock with his large hand, stroking his length slowly and deliberately. You stared up at him, confused, your core throbbing as you watched him pump his cock with a devilish grin spreading across his face. He lifted his cock toward his navel, presenting you with his balls that hung low between his thighs. 

“Suck on them,” he ordered. “Let me see how sloppy you can get. C’mon darlin’.”

Your knees scrapped over the hay-covered floor as you got closer, and you pressed soft kisses against his firm thighs. You had just as much power as he did, even beneath him. Dragging your tongue up his inner thigh, you pressed your nose against the crease of his pelvis, inhaling his musky scent before licking your way down toward his balls. Joel’s body twitched at the sudden sensation of your mouth, a low hum escaping his lips as you suctioned around the velvety skin. 

“There we go, that’s it. Look at how pretty y’look between my legs,” Joel praised. “Keep puttin’ that filthy mouth to use.”

You whined at his words, preening at the gentle praises he gave. You took turns worshipping each, alternating between languid strokes of your tongue and soft suckling motions that made him shudder above you. Bringing a hand up, you cupped them together, your jaw aching as you pulled them into the warmth of your mouth. Joel continued pumping himself, his fingers occasionally brushing over you as he gripped the base of his cock. 

“Mhmm, just like that. Ain’t givin’ you my cock yet, so keep it up. Get sloppy with it, darlin’.”

Planting one hand on his hip, you pulled away with a trail of drool falling from your lips. If he wanted sloppy, then you’d give him sloppy. Gathering enough saliva over your tongue, you sent a glob of spit over them. Your mouth was immediately back on him, tongue gliding across the supple skin now glistening with your drool. The further you nuzzled into the space between his legs, the stronger his musk became, the manly scent of him invading your senses as you drank him in. 

“Y’like that, darlin’? Got your whole face pressed against my balls like a good lil’ slut.”

“Yes,” you moaned, your words muffled and desperate. 

You teased your way upward, letting your tongue flick against the base of his cock. Joel tensed up, his hand halting its deliberate strokes. He didn’t protest to your wandering mouth, so you continued your movements further up the underside of his cock, tracing your tongue over the thick veins that ran up his hardened length. 

“Greedy lil’ thing just achin’ for my cock, huh? Bet those pretty panties are just drenched right now,” he teased. 

You gave him a tiny nod before he guided the head of his cock between your parted lips. The tang of precum coated your tastebuds as you drank him in, widening your jaw until it slackened. Joel stuffed himself inside your mouth, pressing himself deeper until he nudged the back of your throat. Drool rolled down your chin as he rocked forward, knocking against your throat with each thrust. You sputtered around him, swallowing around his length to keep your breathing even. Curling your hair between his fingers, Joel held you firm at the base of his cock; your nose smashed into his pelvis as he kept you motionless against him. 

“Swear y’look so fuckin’ beautiful when your lips are wrapped around me, darlin’. I fuckin’ love seein’ you choke on my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back, the words spilling from his lips sounding like sweet honey as they poured over you, mixing with the pleasure building inside your core. You needed release just as badly as he did, your body thrumming with desire. Steadying your gaze up, you connected with Joel’s heavy stare, his eyes hooded and dark. Let’s play with fire, you thought as you snaked one hand down your abdomen. With your mouth still full of Joel’s cock, you worked at the button of your jeans, shoving your hand past the waistband of your underwear. He had been right… you were drenched. Your fingertips glided over your clit with ease, the friction of your touch sending shockwaves through your veins. A small cry muffled out from your lips, the vibration of the sound making Joel choke on his breath. 

“Christ,” he exhaled. “Always so damn needy, ain’t you?”

Joel ripped himself from your mouth, a slew of heaving breaths exhaling from your lips as you tried to fill your lungs again. Joel’s cock hung in front of your face, covered in your drool and painfully hard. Your fingers worked faster against your aching bud, your eyes fluttering shut as you neared the precipice of release. You knew he was close to release, too, and you lapped at the slit along the head of his cock playfully.

“I know you’re needy, too, Joel,” you teased. “C’mon.”

He groaned at your words, his hand wrapping around his length again, pumping himself fast and unsteady. The muscles under the soft skin of his stomach flexed, his balls tightening up as his orgasm neared. You held onto the white-hot pleasure boiling under your skin, waiting for the moment to come undone with him. 

“Please…please,” you begged, lips curling into a lazy smile.

Joel smacked a hand against the wall behind you, bending over your kneeling body as he pumped hot ropes of his cum over your face. It spattered against your wet lips, your cheeks, your nose…completely defiling you in the most perfect way. Your orgasm crashed against the surface, and you cried out as your core clenched through each ripple that fluttered through you.

“Fuck,” Joel groaned, crouching down. 

He cupped your face between his hands, his eyes hazy and tired as he admired you. Sweat clung to his brow, and a few curls stuck at his scalp, but he looked so handsome. Yes, he pissed you off… a lot… but he was yours. 

“I love you,” he muttered before pulling you in for a kiss.

You lapped at his tongue, the salty taste of your saliva coating over his mouth as you deepened the kiss. Joel’s tongue swept across your lips, collecting droplets of his cum with each pass. He fed his release to you, spit alternating between your open mouths as you pulled him closer. His knees scraped across the ground as he knelt in front of you, pinning your body to his chest as he wrapped a strong arm around your back. 

“Think my sweet girl deserves a lil’ attention now,” Joel whispered as his mouth trailed down your neck. 

Slowly, he guided you onto your back, the dust from the ground tickling your nose, and it kicked up around you. It didn’t take much wrestling to get your pants off, nor did you fight Joel when he hooked your legs over his shoulders and pressed himself against your entrance. 

“Forgot somethin’,” he said, peering up at you slyly.

Joel leaned over your body, brushing his fingers through the cum still covering your face. Collecting it on the pads of his fingers, he brought them down to his cock, coating his length in the sticky release he had spilled onto you only moments ago. You quirked a brow at him, watching him grip the base of his cock as he readied himself to push into you.

“Ain’t wastin’ a goddamn drop, darlin’. Wanna see this perfect pussy leakin’ with my cum.”

Then he was splitting you open with one hard thrust, forcing the air to whoosh out of your lungs. His cock slipped in and out of you with ease, lewd noises radiating around you as your slick mixed with his cum as he quickened his speed. Your back arched off the ground, your mind dizzying with the feeling of him pressing against that sweet spot inside you.

“This what you needed?” Joel grunted. “Needed that bratty lil’ attitude fucked outta you?”

“I still can’t fuckin’….stand you,” you gasped. 

“Ain’t gotta stand me, darlin’. Just needa take my cock whenever I want, and thank me for it.”

Joel bowed over your body, your legs aching as he pried them open wider. His cock speared into you, stretching you to an unbearable place as you writhed beneath him. Somewhere in the distance, you heard Mac huff loudly, no doubt impatient and waiting for you to return. Fuck, you were losing track of time, but with Joel’s weight pressed against you…none of it mattered.

“Y’gonna thank me?” Joel demanded. 

“Fuck me harder, and maybe I will.”

Joel’s eyes bore into you, flickers of hunger cresting over his dark irises. You knew that look—you loved that. You loved that moment right before he snapped; you loved knowing all your bratty efforts paid off. Yes, he bugged the shit out of you most of the time, but he was always yours in every single way. Your entire being had molded into his; your body, your heart…every part of you loved him.

“Harder, huh?” Joel smirked. “Think you deserve it after all the shit you pulled earlier? Don’t think so, darlin’. M’gonna fuck ya’ real nice and slow. Take my time with you.”

“Joel,” you whined.

He dismissed your pleas as he continued to rock into you, his pace slowing to an agonizing pace. You tried bucking your hips higher, coaxing him back into the tempo he had started with, but it was no use. With his meaty hand wrapped around one of your calves, Joel curled you into the ground, your body resting on its side while he curved himself into you. This was how you both slept at night—spooned into each other and bodies melded together. But now his breath was hot against your neck, and his cock was lazily thrusting in and out of you…and you were seeing stars explode behind your eyes. 

“This feel good, darlin’?” Joel whispered in your ear.

“Feels so fuckin’ good, Joel,” you sighed.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, his hand splayed across your stomach, drawing you even closer to his warm chest. You reached around his neck, craning your neck far enough to capture his lips, the sounds of your pleasured cries dying on his searching tongue. Joel panted into your open mouth, his breath ragged and strained as he bucked into your pliant body. 

“Ain’t gonna last much longer,” he groaned, nipping at your bottom lip. “Want you squeezin’ my cock when I fill you full of my cum.”

Your moan was loud enough to echo through the stables, his words ricocheting through your body as your orgasm built inside your core. Joel’s thrusts were shallow, but with each snap of his hips, he buried himself deeper. God, you could feel him in your fucking stomach; his thick length rubbing against your slick walls until you tensed up with the need for release.

“Just like that, Joel. Please…just like that,” you whimpered.

“I know, darlin’. I know,” he crooned. “Bein’ such a good girl for me.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a cry of relief tearing out of your chest as you unraveled in his arms. Your core clenched around him, just as he asked, your sex milking him through every wave of your release. Arousal leaked down your inner thighs, your skin slippery and wet as you felt Joel topple over the edge behind you. With an animalistic groan, he pumped you full of his cum, painting your insides with his release. 

Your head tilted back against his shoulder, your chests rising and falling with labored breaths. Joel curved his hand over your breasts, cupping them gently as he planted soft kisses down the side of your neck. 

“Where’s my thank you?” He mumbled into your skin, chuckling softly. 

You swatted at his hand as he toyed with your nipples, letting a soft laugh bubble out of you. Rolling to the side, you peeled away from his body, his softening cock slipping from inside you. Propping yourself on your knees—careful not to get dust or hay in places you didn’t want them—you tousled his salt and pepper hair, watching a grin split across his face.

“I love you, Joel,” you started. “And thank you for the flowers, but you’re still a pain in my fuckin’ ass.”

He propped himself up on one elbow, admiring your messy hair and blissed-out features, the amber color of his eyes drinking you in. 

“I could be fuckin’ your ass,” he tossed back.

“Fuck off!” You laughed, shoving his chest.

Gathering your clothes from the ground, you pieced yourself back together, shimming your jeans over your hips before sidestepping your way around his body and back into Mac’s stall. Mac paced around the stall, tossing his head back and forth as you neared him. You patted his side roughly before readjusting his saddle. Glancing over at the stool, your heart warmed at seeing the array of wildflowers nicely bundled together, a sweet reminder of the simplicity of Joel’s admiration. He wasn’t a man of many words, at least not the ones that sounded nice, but his efforts proved his love for you. 

“S’alright, darlin’,” Joel said, his body leaning against the doorway. “You can be nice for once and appreciate somethin’ chivalrous.” 

“Guess I never took you to be the type,” you shrugged with a grin.

“And we’re back to bein’ a lil’ brat,” he huffed.

Walking his way toward you, Joel scooped you into his arms, dipping his head low enough to draw you in for a slow, languid kiss. You raked your nails through his sweat-dampened curls, holding him close to you as you breathed in his whiskey scent. 

“C’mon,” he urged. “Let’s make sure my girl gets her responsibilities done for the day. I got plans for us later.”

“Oh?” You questioned.

“Mhmm. Got real big plans for you.”

You rolled your eyes, returning to Mac and lifting yourself into the stirrup. Joel’s hands grabbed onto your hips, helping guide you up. You adjusted your body in the saddle, readying yourself to take off, but Joel quickly kept Mac from moving. Before you could even protest, he was climbing up behind you, shoving himself against your back and crowding your body in the saddle. You tossed an annoyed look over your shoulder, only to be met by his usual lazy grin. 

This fucking man, you thought to yourself.

“I’m never gettin’ a moment of peace from you, am I?” You grumbled.

“Damn right, darlin’. Now, lead the way.”

You kicked your heels against Mac, guiding him out through the stables. The sunset colored the sky in lilac and soft pink hues as you and Joel rode into the fields, his hands tightly wrapped around your waist and his heart beating against your back. You’d never tire of moments like this, even if they all started with a few bickering words and filthy promises.

You loved your grumpy cowboy and the life you shared.

[baby-yongbok]

My Forbidden

Hwang Hyunjin x afab!Reader

-`♡´- Genre - Smut - Forbidden Love -`♡´- Word Count - 4.4k

He's tall in front of you, his smoky aura suffocating you with a temptation you've fought to ignore for months. You told yourself you didn't want him. You told yourself that you couldn't have him. 

-`♡´- Warnings - So like, it isn't step-cest. I mean it. it isn't, but I will say that to some people it could look like it. It isn't, I swear but I will leave this here because I can see how it could look that way, Oral (f&m rec.), thigh riding [that's all??] -`♡´- a/n - Okay look, I had to write to these picture because Hwang Hyunjin tried to kill me when he posted them. True story. Anyway, I wanted to write a more unusual forbidden love story and this is where my brain took me. I tried to keep it away from being step-cest and I think i succeeded? It's like a step before it. Anyway this is the first fic I've written since having writers block so, enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

✧ Masterlist ✧

The art of control is a medium that Hyunjin wasn’t familiar with until he met you. He’s always been ambitious in his desires and exercises the drive to aim and shoot towards whatever he wants no matter the consequences. When he saw you for the first time his scope was set and locked. He watched and studied you. He longed for you. 

It was only a matter of time before fate worked in his favor. He was a model looking for a photographer and you were a photographer looking for a subject. What a coincidence. 

Hyunjin wasted no time charming you. He pulled out all the stops and you were impressed to say the least. You just clicked. It felt like a perfect fit, and then things got complicated. 

He had fallen for you, face first in a rosy smoke that he couldn’t resist. He knew that you weren’t far behind so he thought it would be a good idea to have you meet his mother. You thought the same, asking your father to come to dinner with you and your lover. The night went well, too well. 

Your rising interest seemed to be contagious at the table that night. Hyunjin knew from the excessive batting of his mothers lashes that she was into your father and vice versa. You’d never seen him smile like that, ever. 

“Hyunjin.” His name dances across your lips with each muffled exhale against the palm of your hand. Your other hand works lazily to pry his head from the crook of your neck. The gentle smack of his lips against the supple skin echoes through the open space. “We can't, we can't..”

The structure of your protests crumbles when his kisses trail down and over your shoulder. The thin strap of your tank top is pulled down with a hooked finger and his lips fill the now empty space with wet kisses. “Why not?”

He knows the answer. He knows that this isn't a dynamic that would be smiled upon. It's complicated. 

“You know why.” Your hands roam his body slower than they should until they settle at the waistband of his jeans. You stick your thumbs into his belt loops, using them as leverage to push him back. “You'll be my brother soon.”

“I will never be your brother.” His stare is heavy, his lips kiss bitten and sloppy with his own spit. He looks unhinged, desperate. “I wanted you first. They weren't part of the plan.” 

You push him back towards the set in the middle of your apartment. He complies, eyeing you as he backtracks one step at a time. “They'd be pissed.”

You push him into the chair in the middle of the photo set and he slumps against it. His sweater rides up his stomach, exposing the toned muscle and you steal a glance before retreating. 

“We were talking before they ever were.” He argues, letting his head fall back to stare up at the ceiling of your living room. “I kissed you, remember? We went on a date. Several dates.”

You grab your camera, distracting yourself with the settings to avoid Hyunjin's argument. He's not wrong, the two of you were seeing each other months before your parents got together. The two of you even reminded them about your evolving relationship the day after they announced theirs. You asked that they respect your connection but you were only guilted into breaking it off. 

Hyunjin didn’t give up as easily as you did. He fought, he protested but when it all seemed to be overwhelming for you he stopped. He settled, only because you asked him to. Hyunjin paced the space of his living room that night. He was seething, fuming, crushed. He tried his best, whispering to himself to keep his cool, keep it together, be your friend. Just your friend.

But he couldn’t. Not when he’d give you more than any other friend ever could, ever would, ever should. 

“I remember. I also remember our parents asking us to call everything off so the family dynamic wouldn't be weird.” He scoffs, sitting straight to look at you. His eyes have a piercing shimmer to them, you point your camera and click. 

“You mean when they tried to gaslight us into thinking that we aren't actually into each other?” He smiles, it's wide and somehow condescending. It makes you hot. “They aren't going to last you know? They've been fighting more. My mom seems to be getting fed up.”

You click another picture. “This wouldn't be the first time.” You mumble, unfazed by the information.

“She took her ring off.” You freeze, lowering the camera to get a good look at Hyunjin. The grin on his lips says it all. “She hasn't worn it in a week.”

“My dad hasn't said anything.” 

“He doesn't want you to get any ideas.” Hyunjin is standing tall with a simple push forward, his sweater rides up, his jeans sitting low on his hips as he stalks forward. “He knows that if they broke up at noon you'd be in my bed by one.” 

He's tall in front of you, his smoky aura suffocating you with a temptation you've fought to ignore for months. You told yourself you didn't want him. You told yourself that you couldn't have him. 

“We should wait until the break up is official.” 

His fingers dance along the skin of your exposed shoulder. He brushes your hair back, lingering over the spot that he knows drives you crazy. “We've waited long enough, don't you think?” His words manifest in a whisper and linger in your head as if they were your own. 

“Aren't you sick of waiting?” His other hand is on your waist, pulling your body against his own until you can't feel where you end and he begins. You've always just fit like that.

“You're here for photos.” You're breathless, eyes locked on his lips that are dangerously close to yours. It's tempting, intoxicating. His cologne lingers around you, dragging you down further into the forbidden bits of your desire. 

“Let's take some then.” His lips are on yours in an instant. It was the quickest slow motion you'd ever experienced. The gentlest storm you could ever be swept into. His arm wraps around your waist, holding you against him while his free hand reaches for your camera.

His lips take you in with a palpable yearning that Hyunjin has worked hard to tame. He tongue parts your lips with expert precision that makes this seem practiced. Your arms wrap around him, resting on his shoulders and fisting the flimsy fabric of his sweater. He licks into your mouth and you moan in time with the shutter of the lens. Hyunjin breaks the kiss, just barely pulling away to show you your debauched reflection on the screen. 

“We look good together don't we?” His lips just barely brush over yours. His breath fans over the tender flesh and you forget all that you were weary about. The complications evaporate with his touch just as they always have. 

“If we do this… If I give myself to you I don’t know that I can take myself back.” You whisper, eyes capturing him in a stare that could halt a bullet. “You’ll have to keep me if you take me.”

He pauses, the weight of your words hanging in the air like a promise, and in that moment, An intense longing flickers in his eyes, consuming him. “I wouldn’t dream of letting you go,” he replies, voice low and steady, a vow etched in every syllable.

Every part of him is drawn to you. Every night that you’ve been limited to the bounds of his imagination, every time that he’s had to contain his desire to sculpt you into something glorious beneath him. The sacrificed nights of sleep and months of sanity just to keep his control tight in his fist led him to this. To you. 

He dives into you like your waves would recede if he didn’t dip into you now. You spill into him, melting against his touch and letting your desire run rampant in the space around you. He clicks another photo, capturing the desperation leaking between your lips. You push against him, backing him towards the chair in the middle of the hommade set yet again. He sits when his calves hit the seat, breaking the kiss reluctantly to stare up at you with the honey he calls eyes.

“What if they don’t break up?” The concern in your tone is countered as you kneel before him, slotting yourself between his spread legs. He’s silent for a second, taking in the view that he’s dreamt of for months. The camera clicks. 

He smiles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I don't care." he says, his voice a low rumble. He reaches out, sinking his long fingers into the thick curl of your hair and coaxing you forward. You lean in and just barely brush your lips against his naked hip, before pulling away. "I’m not sacrificing us again."

His hand moves to cup your face, the pad of his thumb runs over the apple of your cheek in gentle admiration and you reach up, your fingers brushing against his wrist. “What’re you doing on your knees, baby?”

“I’ll show you.” You lean back into his hip, brushing your lips over the skin and exhaling a heavy puff of hot air before placing a gentle kiss. Hyunjin watches you with the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth. A single strand of hair falls forwards to frame the shimmering brown admiring the lithe move of your lips against his skin.

Your hands roam the expanse of his denim clad thighs, your manicured nails dig into the fabric with a soft bite that makes the man above you hiss with a gentle flutter of his heavy lids. He slouches a bit more into the black framed chair, giving you better access to where he’s throbbing for you beneath the fabric. 

“You’re so pretty.” His voice fails him, the tension of the moment lays thick on his vocal cords and forces him into a rough whisper. A blush runs over the glow of your swarthy skin, it matches the rosy red that’s creeping up and over Hyunjin’s ears. He points the camera and clicks, another one follows when your eyes meet the lens and he groans at the preview on the screen.

“You, you’re the one who looks like…” Your eyes scan up his frame to take in the gray sweater pulled tight over his frame. The defined dips and curves of his arms are highlighted by the clinging fabric and his chest is teased through the deep V of the neck. And the buttons, the fucking buttons, they’re barely doing their job. “God, Hyunjin.”

His head falls back slightly, a muted groan escaping him. “Don’t do that.” His voice breaks at the final word. His eyes are shut tight. “Don’t say my name like that.” He sounds tortured, stuck between a dream and reality and it makes your heart skip. 

Your fingers work the button of his jeans and Hyunjin moves to watch. The brush of your fingers against the bareskin of his stomach makes him dizzy and the sound of his zipper separating to expose his black briefs to you only makes it worse. 

Your lips are on the dip of his V-line. Your tongue traces the flesh, one of your hands presses over his bulging length while the other works to lower his jeans. He lifts his hips, allowing you to get the fabric around the thick of his thighs for better access. His hand sinks back into your curls, his fingers scratch at your scalp delicately electing another moan of his name. His breath hitches at the sweet sound on your wet lips. 

“Take it out, please.” He mumbles, low lids fluttering softly at the sight before him. “Please, baby.”

That’s all that you needed to let it all go, the sediment of your reluctance was washed away in an instant and his bare cock was in your hand even quicker. He’s better than you dreamed of. 

“Oh my god.” You take him in with a moan. Arousal pools in your panties and your hands drag over his length on their own. The camera clicks. You lean forward, taking him in your mouth without warning and Hyunjin nearly drops the camera. 

“Shit, baby.” His mouth falls open, his brows furrowed and his fingers fist in your hair. This is insane. You sink the length of him into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. You drool around him, slurping and sucking while your eager cunt throbs between your sticky thighs. Your panties are doing a horrible job at containing your excitement. Your jeans are surely ruined but so are you. 

“Fuck, that mouth. Your mouth feels so good, so so fucking-” His own body betrays him, interupting his ramble with a groan and a small buck of his hips. His cock leaks against your tongue as you swirl the muscle around the head. Drool pools at the hilt of his length and runs over his balls. It’s messy. You take him deeper, gripping his hips and scratching over the rising red marks that you’ve sucked into the skin.

“Just like that, baby. Just like that.” Your own arousal starts to become unbearable. Each ragged breath and groan from Hyunjin sends shocks to your system and you need something. With your thighs squeezed tight you buck your hips to match the bob of your head over his cock. You match the rhythm, imagining the head of his cock bullying your swollen walls instead of your throat. You clench around nothing at the thought.

“Get up, c’mere.” He guides your mouth off of him with his hand in your hair, a string of spit connects you to his cock and he lifts the camera lazily to capture the debauchery. “Sit on my thigh” Hyunjin guides his jeans the rest of the way down, taking his underwear with the denim and kicking it off. 

You move to unbutton your jeans quickly, fumbling with the button in a clumsy pursuit that Hyunjin interrupts with his long digits. He hooks his pointer finger into the front of your jeans and pulls you closer into his waiting hands. They settle on your hips, moving up slowly to squeeze the fluff of your waist.

 “How are you this fucking fine?” His fingers pop the button of your jeans with ease, he peels the fabric down your curves at an eager pace that’s translated through the sloppy kisses planted along the hem of your messy panties. Your hands thread through his raven locks, combing his hair back out of his face. You watch him, he’s a vision in your blissed out haze. A dream personified. 

“Do you know how hard it’s been…” He mumbles against your skin, his dark eyes peer up to meet yours in a vulnerable soul gaze. “Do you understand how badly I’ve wanted to touch you...” His fingers trace a soft line up your leg and stop at the print of your pussy through your panties. He can see the dark spot on the gray fabric. He can see that you’ve felt the same. 

Hyunjin runs his pointer and middle finger over the soiled fabric of your panties and rubs a soft circle over your clit. Your breath hitches in your throat. You lean up on the ball of your foot and shift your weight from one leg to the other. Hyunjin continues, rubbing harsher circles and spreading the stain of your slick further as his lips and tongue work at the expense of your stomach.  

You strip yourself of your tank top to give him more access, leaving you in only your panties since you chose to forgo a bra this morning. You gasp a moan when he presses up against the swollen bud. It throbs against the contact and you squirm, whining at the harsh touch. 

“Please, don’t stop touching me.” You plead, pushing yourself further into his touch. “More, please.”

Hyunjin’s eyes shut with a furrow. Your words make his cock jump. He hooks the fingers that are teasing your clit into the hem of your panties to move the ruined fabric to the side. A string of arousal follows and he groans at the sight. “Baby, you’re soaking. You’re, you’re fucking…” He’s leaning in before he allows himself to finish his sentence and places a soft kiss against your exposed center.

You moan, the grip you have in his hair tightening as the simple kisses against your clit turn into desperate kitten licks. “Jin... Hyunjin, fuck.” He hums as he continues, the small licks quickly evolve into long drags of his tongue through your folds while one hand palms your ass and the other holds your waist.

He blindly reaches to the side where he’s discarded the camera, detaching from your core for just a second to grab it and hand it to you. You take it, clumsily putting your arm through the attached strap and situating the device in your hands. Hyunjin dives back in, his lips wrap around your clit and you point and click with a loud moan. 

“You’re gonna make me cum.” Hyunjin moans at the admission, this would be the first time he makes you cum. The first time he sees your beautiful body fall apart for him. “Oh, god, I’m gonna cum in your mouth.” Moans follow, tumbling forward with clumsy thrusts of your hips against his tongue and chin. You’ve never gotten to orgasm this fast. You’ve never fallen apart this easily for anyone but him.

His eyes are closed as he laps at your pussy, sucking and licking like his life depends on it and you snap another picture before falling apart. You're gushing into his mouth with a choked sob. The camera falls from your hands and is saved by the strap around your arm. Your grip in Hyunjin’s hair is punishing as you ride his face through your high. He groans at the pain, pulling away from your core after a second and forcing you forward to sit on his thigh.   

He presses the muscle of his leg up against your core and the squelch of your drenched sex against his skin echoes between you. “Listen to you, angel. Fuck.” Hyunjin licks his lips but you catch them in a heated kiss before he can clean them completely. You taste yourself off of his lips and he melts into you, moaning at the force of your tongue against his. 

His fingers dig into your hips, guiding you over the naked skin of his thigh. “You feel so good in my hands.” He presses his forehead against yours, listening to each heavy inhale you take. “Your pussy is fucking - you’re dripping. God, I can still taste you.” 

“I need you, now. Can’t wait anymore.” You cup his face with one hand while your free one grips the backrest of the chair. You kiss him, it’s soft and slow. Your lips move against each other with a rhythm that only the two of you can access. His tongue pushes against yours, milking moans from your chest while you grind over him. “Wanna feel you, wanna be yours. Please make me yours.” 

“Baby.” He shivers, taking in the slick feel of your arousal dripping over his leg. Your hard nipples brush against the fabric of his cardigan and he suddenly wants it off. Now. “You can’t say shit like that to me. You can’t say that and expect me to not fucking fall apart.”

His breath fans over your lips with a heavy exhale. His swollen pink lips brush against yours with each word. “Don’t you dare hold back.” You tilt his head up, driving his hazy gaze towards your own. “Give me what they wouldn’t let you. Give me everything.” 

A rumble rips through him, something akin to a growl as he shifts you into his lap. Your words, they lit a new fire in him and he needs to feel you now before it goes out. He needs to make you his. “I’ll give it to you.” Hyunjin scoops you up, your core rests over his cock as he stands with you in his arms. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, squealing softly as lifts you. He silences you with a kiss, swallowing the sound while moving across the room to try and get you to the stairs. He wants to take you to your room. He wants to lay you on your bed and finally fuck you the way he’s dreamt of when he fucks his fist to your memory. But he can't make it. 

He only gets a couple steps across the open space of your living room before the aching of his cock betrays him. You barely even make it to the couch, he stops right in front of it, lowering you so that your back rests against the front of the sofa. 

Your hands roam and grab in a hungry attempt to feel his chest against yours. You fist the gray fabric and pull, popping the first two buttons of his cardigan. He groans, sliding his hands under your thighs and pulling your core to his. Your panties are in the way and he moves to change that instantly. He pulls at the fabric, ripping it at the seams and working it down the plush of your thighs. 

“Turn around.” Hyunjin is moving fast, helping you turn around to face the couch. Your knees dig into the fuzz of the carpet, your forearms rest against the couch cushions. You reach your hand back, taking his dribbling length in your hand and spreading his slick. 

“Do you - Do you have a condom?” He pants against your neck, trembling with the brush of your hand over his cock. “Cause I can’t… I won’t pull out.”

The thought of him stuffing you full of his cum has you keening, your pussy clenches and the answer to his question almost vanishes. “In the drawer of the table behind you.”

Hyunjin turns, reaching back to fish through the drawer. He finds what he’s looking for just as your phone starts to vibrate on the coffee table. Hyunjin sees the caller ID before you can turn around. His heart skips and falls to his stomach but he hides it. He moves quickly, kissing you in an attempt to distract you from the call until it goes to voicemail. “Focus on me, baby. Focus on feeling me.” 

He rolls on the condom and breaks the kiss to bend you over the cushions in front of you. You sit up on your knees and he sinks into you slowly, easily splitting you open. You moan in unison, Your eyes rolling back with gasp. “Holy shit, baby.” Hyunjin’s head falls forward, resting on your shoulder. 

“If I move I’m gonna cum. You’re too much, too good. Shit.” Your pussy clenches around him and he hisses, just barely grinding his hips into yours. “I’m gonna have to fuck you again.”

“Please, have to feel you again...” You turn your head to the side straining to see him. “Move, I wan’ it. Please, baby.”

“I got you.” He pulls back, setting into a steady pace. “Oh god, baby. I got you.”

You’re falling apart in an instant. Crumbling in his arms as he wraps them around you and sits you up so that your back is against his nearly bare chest. He whimpers in your ear, kissing the shell of it as you bounce in his lap. Sloppy squelches and skin slapping drown out your moans. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hip and thighs and yours reach back to claw at whatever you can reach. “Hyunjin.” One of his hands dips down to rub tight circles into your clit. His moans pitch higher with each passing second. The rumble of his desperate satisfaction clawing up his throat drags him closer to the edge. 

Your spit gets caught in your throat with a sharp gasp when he hits a spot deep inside you. He angles his hips a bit to hit it again and again and again until you're creaming around him. “Baby, baby, ‘m gonna - fuck - please.”

You’re trembling in his lap, shaking like a leaf in his hold. “Me too.” He pants, biting his tongue with his eyes shut tight. He wants you to cum first. He wants you to fall apart. He wants to watch.

“Right there, right there.” You’re chanting to him, singing and sighing praises mixed with his name. “Mine, mine, you’re -” It hits you, it’s blinding and hot and so fucking good. Hyunjin uses his free hand to tilt your head back against his shoulder. He watches your mouth drop open in a scream. He watches the small drop of drool run over your bottom lip. He watches you fall apart around him.

“Yours.” He finishes your sentence, his rhythm falters, his thrusts get more sloppy by the second. “I’m yours yes, yes I am baby. Fuck, oh god, look at you.” 

He holds you close while you ride out your high. You’re moaning louder now, still shaking in his arms at the overstimulation. Your pussy clenches and throbs around him and it drives him to his end. His arms wrap around you tighter, holding you firm against him as he stills behind you. He moans your name, repeating it like a prayer as he unravels. 

 His breath is hot against your neck, his cock twitches against your pulsing walls and a comfortable silence fills the space for a couple heartbeats until he whispers in your ear, “I love you.” You feel your heart flutter and you whisper back, "I love you."

You’ve both waited. Waited so long to say it. 

“No one is going to keep me from you. Not anymore.” Hyunjin pants, his grip around you loosening and his heart swells with something that goes beyond his longing. It’s a step above needing your presence. It’s deeper. Intangible. “I’ll talk to them. We’ll work this out.”

The vulnerability of the situation floods back in at his vow. A tear escapes you. Blurring your gaze all over again. “Okay.” You leave the conversation there and shift. He pulls his softening cock from your sensitive sex and starts cleaning you up. He finds your clothes and helps you dress before he pulls his jeans back on.

You find your phone as you wait for him to dress, checking to see who called. Your heart skips a beat. “Hyune.” He reads your tone, looking over to you as he zips his jeans. “Check your phone.”

He moves over to the kitchen counter, grabbing his phone and unlocking the device. His heart skips a beat. His eyes meet yours from across the room.  

“They broke up.”

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[luvgam3]

Workwife!Shoko to fuel my delusions ♡

Cw: afab!reader, nsfw under cut, hospital coworkers au, wholesome flirting turned more, shoko the p☆ssy destroyer, a fwb situation…

Workwife!Shoko who instantly took a liking to you the day you started working together. She was tasked with training you for the whole week, in all reality she was dreading it— but upon seeing your dazzling smile and hearing your bubbly voice that all melted away.

Workwife!Shoko who only ever let you touch her. Whether it was resting your head against her shoulder after a long shift, or looping your arm with hers as you walk through the halls between shifts. You even clung to her during your smoke breaks— your knees knocking together as you blew smoke into the frigid air.

Workwife!Shoko who started inviting you out every Friday night for a drink at a nearby bar. You’d walk side by side, subtle flirting flowing in-between conversation. The flirting got bolder as liquid courage flowed down your throats. Her hand would find punches on your clothed thigh under the table, the dingy light swinging overhead doing nothing to hide the glint of lust in her eyes as she watched you sip at your beer unknowingly.

Workwife!Shoko who was used to your drunken kisses. By the end of the night neither of you could drive, so you’d sit in the backseat of a taxi and babble to one another. Your simple goodnight kisses— a quick peck on the lips— evolved into you littering Shoko with kisses before you even got out of the cab.

Workwife!Shoko who now has a section in her closet for your clothes and scrubs for when you spend the night. Your bras are always in her laundry bin or left on her floor. The first time you spent the night at her house was when you both had off the next day, so it’s not like you had to rush home and change before your shift— you only made that mistake once.

Workwife!Shoko who loves to tease you at work after a particularly intense night. ‘Awe you’re limping, are you okay?’ ‘You’ve got a little bruise on your neck, did something happen?’ Ugh she loves watching your cheeks flush as you turn and storm away. She knows you’re limping because she had your legs hooked over her shoulders for hours on end, bullying her strap into your tight little cunt. She knows she’s the one who left that hickey on your neck and just “forgot” to tell you before you left.

Workwife!Shoko who will catch you on your lunch break, dragging you into a supply closet just to hike up your scrub top and yank down your bra to suck on your tits as you grind against her leg. You’ll be starving for the rest of the day but the feeling of her hot tongue against your skin lingers for hours.

Workwife!Shoko who doesn’t care if you date around. You’re still friends after all. Just know that once your heart gets broken (yet again) she’ll be at your door with takeout and beer. Friends make each other feel better… her way just ends up with your face pushed into a pillow while she laps at your pussy like it’s the only thing she’s eaten in days. Her hands grasping at the globes of your ass as you tremble and whine, spit and tears wetting your pillow.

Workwife!Shoko who keeps her nails short because of work but learned that it has its benefits. It’s so easy to finger fuck you in the backseat of her car when her nails are always perfectly trimmed!

Workwife!Shoko who usually tops, but even she has her days where all she wants is to be taken care of— and boy do you deliver. She’s taught you well, your hips piston into her with reckless abandon as her fingers fist the sheets. You eat her out like an expert, only coming back up to mash your lips against her in a desperate needy kiss, your chin dripping with saliva and her. You even tie her hands behind her back on days where all she can think about is regaining her control even when she doesn’t really want to— you’re such a lifesaver— pulling at her confines as you plow into her, her ass bouncing with each thrust of your hips as she whimpers.

[mediumgayitalian]

Nico drops his keys, trying to slide them in the old, shitty lock.

He has to take a moment to breathe.

He can just -- pick them up. They are maybe three feet away, right there on the ground. On the cold, frigid doorstep. Right on a layer of powder snow, which has puffed and pillowed out on impact to flutter over the brass and aluminum and the beaded keychain Kayla made for him, years ago. They blur, the longer he stares, faded pinks and greens swirling with tarnished glinting silver and grey, dead white. It is stupid to be fighting back tears.

But unsurprising, with the day he has had.

He exhales quick and bullish and forced his stiff knees to crouch, his frigid hands to dig around until they close around his key loop, until the apartment key, icy, is clenched between his reddened fingers and shoved, creaking, into the garbage, stubborn lock, until he has yanked and twisted with enough desperation that it finally -- finally -- gives. The swollen door is stuck in the frame, because of course it is, but it feels good to shove, to punch the solid face of it with enough force to ram it open, groaning, slamming against the narrow walls of the front hallway.

There is blues, playing in the apartment. Patti Page.Nico works his boots off, exhausted, and smiles as his foot hits the floor and he hears Will singing, or humming, rather, loud enough that he can hear it over the oven fan, over the record player.

He is trying to be quiet, Nico can tell. Maybe listening. But the apartment is tiny, and he is incapable, besides.

He pads his way to the kitchen, leaning against the doorway, and watches his husband way his hips absentmindedly to muffled French horn, dull knife slicing along to the rhythm of old Oklahoma accent. His apron straps are tied wrong, too short on one side. He is wearing too-tight shorts and an old, oversized band shirt, and very little else. The heaviness along every dot of Nico's spine fades almost to nothing.

"Sorry I'm late," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around Will's waist. Will hums, not startled -- he was listening for him, then -- and leaning into his hold, into the chin Nico hooks over his shoulder. "Huge fuckin' -- mess, EZ Death Line had a -- stampede, or something, I couldn't piece together --" He stops, and sighs, curling into Will's warmth. Will drops a hand onto his frigid wrists and squeezes, turning to press a kiss to Nico's hair.

"Long day, huh."

"Long fuckin' week."

"Mm. You're cold, too."

Will squeezes, again, and then reaches back for the knife. Nico tries not to pout too obviously at the loss. At the teasing, rolled eyes he can feel from Will's direction, he doubts he is successful, but Will concedes to lean farther into him, even though it throws him off balance. So it cannot be too bad.

"I don't know how much it will help with the shitty week, sweetheart, but I guessed at the cold." He points his chin at the pot sitting neatly on the stained stovetop, wooden spoon balanced precariously off the half-bent lid. "I made -- well, I tried to make, don't get your hopes up -- pasta fasioi. Called Chiara about it."

He says it easy, nonchalantly, but Nico watches the grip he has around the knife's handle, and grins. Don't get your hopes up, he says. As if he didn't half-grow up in the back of a diner, as if he doesn't know his way around a spice rack.

Nico presses a kiss to his neck, grateful, and slides over to the stovetop, lifting the still-warm lid. It doesn't look like much -- the best food rarely does -- but it smells like old, old home, like salt and flour and the beans drying in the depths of Mamma's cantina. The music, too, is old enough that it almost sounds like home, like woodwinds and radio static and cold wind blowing through thin windows.

Nico dips the spoon in, bringing it to his lips. It would never be allowed, usually, but tonight Will is quiet, tonight he bumps his hips into Nico's and lets him close his eyes, exhaling, remembering the thick almost-graininess, the sweetness of the slight basil and sharpness of the cheese that is probably too expensive for them to be using. On a resident's salary, at least. But Will only smiles, when Nico curls into him, and brings his strong, warm hands up to the back of Nico's neck, roughly chopped vegetables forgotten on the wobbling counter.

"Thank you," Nico whispers, into his shirt. It smells like -- rainfall, almost. Summer showers.

Will presses his soft, sad smile into the line between Nico's hair and his forehead.

"Course, darlin'."

They sit to eat -- on the floor, because their one table is covered in one of Will's research projects -- and Nico even eats the salad Will shoves at him. It's good, too, but he complains about it, just to watch Will huff, just to watch his shoulder square and brow furrow as he lists, in alphabetical order, the twenty different ways each individual protein or whatever will fix his aching muscles. Will holds his hand, as they eat. Even though it makes eating more difficult, and he spills thick soup on the dead front of his goofy, ridiculous, cat-in-outer-space apron, and pouts when Nico cackles at him. There is a point as Nico is struggling to breathe again where he sets his near-empty bowl on his favorite tile (the chipped one, that he feels bad for) and turns to face Nico fully and watches with his cheek cupped in his free hand until Nico gets self-conscious.

"What," he says, shoulders raising, "did I get something on my face?"

But he didn't, and he knew he didn't, before he asked. Because he knows the look in Will's sky-black eyes, the shy, disbelieving pleasure of it: the gods, you're beautiful and I can't believe I have this and you are everything I prayed about. He knows, because Will says it, often, because he doesn't flinch from it the same way Nico does, from the…bubbling shame of it. Not from loving him, never from loving him, but from his witnessing of it, of the raw, endless pounding of his heart, unbelievably obvious. Not from his wanting to hide, but his incapability of doing so.

"Your head is spinning," Will comments, and it is. Nico wonders how he knows, so exactly. If he can see it. If there's a look in his face. "Get up."

Will pushes himself to his feet, and holds his hands out. Nico takes them, both of them, and when Will has pulled him up he lingers, still, brings Nico's knuckles up to his lips and kisses until Nico is flustered, squirming.

"There's no one here but us," Will reminds him, softly.

Nico shudders. "I know." He drops his shoulders, exhaling, expelling. "I know, I know. It just --" He shrugs. "I can feel it still, I guess. Everywhere but here."

It is not the first time he has said it and will not be the last. The Underworld doesn't bother him, not like it does Will; it is home, in many ways. His father is softer, now, and his step-mother almost tolerates him. He has friends in various gods and deities and satisfaction in his responsibilities.

But there is always, always someone watching. And after a while, it makes his skin crawl.

Will rubs his rough palms up and down his bare arms, expelling the feeling. The record pauses and they look up, the both of them, and when it starts again it starts with low, muffled trumpet, and Will perks up, and Nico groans, more teasing than anything, and lets himself be dragged, sighing, into what passes for a living room, and is really just the clearest corner of the one-bedroom. Will wastes no pretense and pulls him close, immediately, close enough that Nico can feel the rumble of his chest as he hums, low, too low for him, really, but Nico sighs into it anyway. Sighs into the arms Will tucks tightly against him, the cheek on his head, the breath lining up with his; this song is old, and sad, but it makes Will think of home and of summer and of campfire, and it makes Nico think of Will. So he doesn't mind, really.

"If I was her I woulda kicked my friend's ass," Nico murmurs, and Will laughs.

"I don't blame you," he says, quiet through the brass and piano solo. "I like that she loves them still, though. Both of them."

"They betrayed her."

"And yet, she sings softly about them."

Nico sighs, and mutters something about hopeless romantics. Will smiles, sweet, and draws him in closer, somehow, as if there is nothing separating them, no clothes, no air, no atoms. As if they are they same cloud of existence. Patti Page sings I remember the night, and the Tennessee Waltz and Will turns them, slowly, and sings back Now I know just how much I have lost. And his voice is light, soft like hers. Sacred and reverent. And Nico can't read his mind, not really, but he knows he is thinking about old friends, about love. About how things shift, and change, about how years ago, Will sang this song, along his brother's trumpet, and Nico's heart beat through his chest. About how four years ago, this June, Will sang this song again, and Nico waltzed with him, on an over-polished, slippery floor, in dress shoes that pinched.

"I love you," he says, over quiet, old tears and arpeggioing piano.

"I know," Will says, just as quiet. He ducks down and kisses Nico gently, lovingly. "I love you, too."

I know, Nico thinks of saying. It is in the bags under his eyes and the work on the table but the hours spent in the kitchen anyway. It is in the letters Nico keeps tucked in the bulging pocket of his favorite jacket and the mess of their shoes at the door, the six blankets on their double bed even though Will overheats every night. In the too-expensive espresso machine that he doesn't know how to use but lets take up space on their tiny counter anyway, in the pictures hung crooked on every square inch of wall space, in his hands, warm and searching, on the back of his hips, in the breaths pressed to his skin because he is cold still and tired and dancing.

Instead, he says quiet. Instead the Tennessee Waltz ends, and he says nothing as Will reaches over, arms long and straining, and pulls the needle back, slightly, right before strumming guitar over muffled brass. Instead he exhales, long, slow, total, and presses his nose to the crook of Will's neck, and memorizes the borrowed scent of petrichor and the constant scent of lavender, and the edge of his burn scars against his skin. And he waltzes, and waltzes, and melts in the arms of his loved one, away from the ice of the cold and the depths. Away from anything but sweet Southern summer's embrace, and gentle, warbling blues.

[browneyebby]

i think what makes dallas winston so attractive is his lack of personal space, especially around the girl he likes. . .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 🪽 ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

you were sort of flattered, honestly. you knew you shouldn’t be. dallas winston was a bad person. he carried a heater around, he jumped young boys and senior citizens, he stole, fought, cussed — he was everything you weren’t. and, to make matters worse, he was a greaser. but god, the amount of attention he gave you… it was almost dizzying. if you were a cat, you would be on your back all flirty, begging for him to scratch you more.

you acted as if it didn’t matter to you, ‘it’ being the attention and dallas himself. whenever you were alone and he’d talk to you, you’d be nice enough. you’d talk to him, making casual conversation about the weather or plans later. all he could ever notice was the way your lashes batted up at him, or how you’d stutter a bit whenever he would interrupt you. you were cute. which is why, whenever he saw you, his big hands were all over you. they’d caress your waist, massage your shoulders, fiddle with your hair or a new necklace he’d notice on you. he’d hold your belt loops, your hand. everywhere you could think of. you’d never stop him when you’re alone.

when you’re with friends, on the other hand, you’re a bitch (at least that’s what dally says). you adorably paw him off of you, calling him a slimy greaser, or a pervert. of course, just like you, he preens when he gets attention. but unlike you, it doesn’t matter if the attention is good or bad. you could cut off his dick and he’d still smirk at you in wonder, and not take a hint. it doesn’t matter if you push his hard chest, or stomp on his shoe, or call him names. he loves it. even though it’s just a show in front of your friends, he wouldn’t even care if it was for real. if you actually hated him this much. you were adorable to him.

“dallas winston, leave me alone!” you whine to him one day while you’re shopping on the main strip of town with your spoiled friends. “such an asshole, take a hint,”

he had come up to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “you look pretty today, don’t ya baby?” he ignores your words, fiddling with the strap of your dress. “new dress? suits you,”

“thank you,” you murmur. “now let me go, please.”

“why?” he asks, pulling you closer.

“‘cause this is harrassment.” is your answer. “wanna get thrown in jail again? huh?”

“push me away then, you’re a strong girl,” he taunts.

you don’t hesitate elbowing him away, and he stumbles back, smiling. god, he adores you. that brief amount of willing contact on your end was enough to make his brain go fuzzy. “now go away, winston, m’busy,” you repeat again. the sound of your angry stomps is like music to his ears. the click-clack of your kitten heels feels like a hypnosis.

“miss ya already!” he calls out as you glance back at him. you bite the inside of your cheek and looks away again.

your interactions with him tend to stick with you for the entire day. you like his attention, as previously mentioned, and you miss when he’s not bothering you. you like the surge of annoyance you get when he embarasses you in front of your friends. this conversation with him is especially memorable, and for one apparent reason — you feel guilty for pushing him anyway. you wish you could’ve cuddled into his side, walked with him while he talked to you and teased you.

you hate the way you miss his attention, but you can’t help it. because when dallas winston gets within three inches of you, the high you get is worse than any other drug. you get addicted. and unfortunately, him and his two hands have hooked you. it’s just what he wants.

. ۫ ꣑ৎ taglist : @avroravia @r0seb100d @fawning4leif @dinerlana @diorgirl444

[yeyinde]

thinking of big gross simon once more 😔

he’s just so fucking huge imagine him finally getting his precious girl home with him one night after work. he didn’t ask, obviously, just slipped a little smth extra into the tea he made her! it took her no time to fall straight into his arms

the ride back to his cabin has to be excruciating for him,, imagine having to keep his attention on driving when his girl is sat next to him. the urge to pull over and take you apart right tugged on him every couple minutes

when he does finally pull up imagine him gently peeling off your seatbelt and shifting your weight into his beefy arms uggghhhhhh 😖😖 his chest pressed against your side as he placed you down on the couch. takes him no time to go back out to the truck and grab what he needs,, a thick pair of leather cuffs and a chain.

maybe he traps her arms, hooking the chain into a loop on the floor. he does it so she won’t hurt herself trying to fight back, it takes nothing for him to put you in your place. the thought of getting too rough and breaking his favorite toy so soon didn’t rest easy with him… gotta keep her safe

or maybe he traps her legs, cuffs wrapped around her ankles. can’t have his little bird trying to escape the nest!! not until she’s finally trained! stops you from kicking or running from him, perfect to keep your legs together tight… but maybe seeing your limbs pressed together like that does something to him, makes his blood boil in a way no one else ever has 😏

big bloody hands rub your body down, mapping out every part before you even wake up. he can’t wait to break you in

-🧸 i’m horny.

ohhhhhh yeah. yes to all of this. i saw this tiktok a while back about this girl who was going skydiving or something. and the instructor was getting her harness on, and when he knelt down to do the straps on her thighs, he was basically eye-level with her. it fucked with me so good.

and now i can't stop imagining poor reader frantically searching for an escape after he chained you to the wall only to see Simon stagger back over with ankle straps in hand, drop to his knees in front of you, and suddenly you're eye-level with him. or the top is his head comes up to your chin and it's like. well. okay 🫠 guess i'm staying.

he probs secretly starts taking things from the slaughterhouse, too. hooks, chains. chain hoist. block and tackle. stockpiles it in his cabin for you. has everything prepared because this isn't a spur of the moment thing. everything is meticulously thought out. planned. has your routine memorised the first week of knowing you. no changes. home, work. groceries on the weekend. might stray to the odd friend's house on occasion. but it's shockingly easy to narrow your world down into home and his shop. even easier to tell everyone in town that you went back to home for a little while.

to your honeymoon, as he calls it, mockingly. mean. and you come to the horrifying realisation that he's more cunning than you gave him credit for when you ask why he's doing this, and he plainly says that he just wanted you. and so, he took you. simple as. old school prison mentality. finders keepers.

but don't worry. he'll give you a better one later on when you come back to town as a Riley.

you just have to learn how to behave.

[repulsiveliquidation]

Dress Up || Alexia Putellas

warnings : smut (18+), vibrators, strap-ons, cunnilingus, e-stim, aftercare, bottom alexia.

summary : alexia bumps into you at a party and in exchange for ruining your shirt, you give her a night of multiple orgasms that she won't forget.

The smell of smoke and alcohol was sure to stick to your costume when the party was over. The team Halloween masquerade party was in full force and the girls didn’t disappoint with their costumes.

There were appetizers that filled the dining table as well as waiters walking around with champagne and small bites of food, most of which looked appetizing to the captain. A chocolate fountain that was quite occupied was on the end of the table; Alexia was sure that she caught someone that looked like Mapi sticking her tongue under the flow a few times.

Giggling at a tall Norwegian looking woman scolding the chocolate-covered Spaniard, Alexia stepped into the bar area to grab herself a drink. Patri was in a corner of the bar, snuggled up next to a girl that Alexia didn’t recognize. Smiling, she pointed to the bottle of Pinot Noir, examining the brand and year before nodding satisfactorily and watching the bartender pour her a glass. Alexia sauntered back into the party with her little glass of liquid courage, looking around for a frame that she hoped would fulfil her plans for the night.

Turning the corner into the bathrooms for a quick little touchup, Alexia accidentally bumps into a broad chest that gets red wine spilt all over their costume. The tight white shirt that did nothing to hide the pierced nipples underneath a tight leather jacket lead Alexia’s eye down to the leather pants that were tighter than she’d seen you wear before. Alexia’s eyes widen in shock as she takes in the sight of you in front of her. 

“Hello to you too babygirl,” you greet, pulling Alexia into the bathroom. She grabs a handful of tissues and begins to wipe you down, lips muttering her apologies a mile a minute.

“I’m sorry Amor, I was being stupid, I didn’t see you!” Alexia whines, grabbing more tissues to wipe your shirt with. You lean in and peck her lips, watching her calm down. You pull your jacket off and watch your girlfriend’s eyes light up.

The sleeveless see-through top did nothing to hide the fact you didn’t have a bra on. The ripple in your muscles as the leather slipped off your shoulders sent shivers down Alexia’s spine. You grab the hem of your shirt and pull it off, toned stomach giving Alexia nothing and everything at the same time.

Her hand trails down your chest bone slowly, eyes slowly getting darker and darker. You pull your jacket back on and the black on your skin makes you almost glow. The jacket gives just enough coverage but anyone with eyes could see that you were certainly making a statement.

Your fingers hook on the belt loops of Alexia’s mini skirt, pulling her into your arms. She smiles shyly, wrapping her arms around your neck. You kiss her and she giggles into the kiss, hand softly cradling your head as you deepen the kiss.

She pulls away when you sigh into the kiss, smiling to herself as a little blush comes across her cheeks.

“You look stunning,” she compliments, adjusting your jacket. You grab your wine-stained shirt and turn her around, slipping the end into her skirt in the back.  

“Thank you baby,” you tell her, pecking her cheek. “Meet me on the dancefloor in five? I’ll get you another glass of Pinot.”

She nods and is about to turn the handle of the door when you speak up.

“Wait,” you growl, reaching into your back pocket. You hand Alexia a box.

“Have fun. See you soon, beautiful.”

You turn the knob and disappear in a flash, leaving Alexia to her own devices. She locks the door before looking at what you left for her. She pulls a face of shame and pure delight, eyes scanning the Bluetooth vibrator that you gave her.

“Enjoy,” was what was written on a note in the box. Alexia threw her head back and cursed you just a little, feeling the weight of the toy in her hands. She hiked her skirt up and dropped her panties (your favorite red lacy ones) and gave her clit a few soft rubs. She sighed and threw her head back, feeling her arousal soak her folds.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” she whispers underneath her breath, gently pushing the toy inside herself. She huffs, feeling the silicone settle inside her as she stands to her feet. One quick once-over in the mirror before stepping out into the party again. She saunters over to the dancefloor where she sees Mapi and Ingrid having the time of their life, Jana and Jill hunkered down in the quiet corner dancing slowly by themselves, and you holding her fresh glass of wine and a crystal half full of whiskey.

She reaches out for the glass of wine, taking a little sip before turning around to press her back against your chest. The mood in the room shifts and the music slows down, a tonal jazz beat fills the room and most couples leave no room between them.

Your free hand comes around Alexia’s middle, pulling her closer to you. She rests her palm on top of yours and sways with you, tuning out everyone else in the room as she becomes hyper-focused on you.

For a moment, she forgets about the toy inside her.

You down your whiskey in one shot, placing the glass on a table near you. Your hand now joins the other around her waist, gently guiding the captain in a little dance of your own. She melts into your arms, eyes closed as your cold fingers leave a lasting sting on her sliver of exposed skin.

Her glass was empty by the end of the song, now left beside yours on the same table.

One hand disappears from on top of hers and she thinks you’re pulling away before there’s a jolt and she does not expect it.

You turned the toy on for just a second to see her reaction and it did not disappoint. Alexia yelps and you manage to play it off as if you step on her toes. No one seems to pay much attention and the party goes on without you two, before Alexia is abruptly turned into your arms to face you. Your arm rests on the small of her back and you press yourself closer to her. The remote in your pocket you hold with the other, gently going through the stages. 

Alexia has her hands around your neck for stability, trying her best to keep her legs from giving out. You turn it to medium and hold her waist, dancing slowly along to the music. Alexia kisses you to keep her moans in, the toy vibrating intensely inside her. You groan when she slips her tongue into your mouth, pulling her closer against you. She feels her orgasm begin to sneak up on her and somehow you do too, reaching into your pocket to turn it up.

Alexia whines in your neck, catching herself before she fell to the ground in pleasure. Thankfully the dance floor was packing up and the lights were lower, no one saw the captain’s eyes roll into her head as her orgasm ripped through her. She kissed you hotly and you moan into her mouth, pulling away to see the feral look in her eyes.

“Fuck me right now or we’re going to have problems.”

You grin and nod, taking her hand and heading to the elevators. Once inside, Alexia can’t keep her hands to herself, reaching out to pull you into her arms. She kisses you hard, pressing you tight against the wall. Her hands are cold as they slither around your middle, the coldness of her hands sends shivers down your spine as the warmth of your skin prickles underneath her touch.

Alexia fumbles with your tight pants, unbuttoning it in a hurry to get to you. You stabilize yourself by holding the handles along the wall, watching as the number on the screen of the elevator gets closer and closer to your designated floor. She dips her head down to suck on your perked nipples, the metal bars on them allow her to tug them with her teeth. You moan, gripping the handrails tightly as her tongue slowly begins to swirl around your nipple.

The elevator dings and you rush out of there fast. Alexia pulls your jacket off your shoulders from behind as you fumble with the keycard. You drag her inside and are all over her, after slipping the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the doorknob.

Alexia whimpers when you push her onto the plush bed. Her eyes sparkle as, for the first time tonight, you notice the glittery eyeshadow she had on. You stand tall and admire her, watching as she slowly takes her tank top off to reveal your favorite lingerie set.

Suddenly remembering the toy that she had inside her (admittedly you caught a glimpse of it as she opened her legs a little in an attempt to tease you), you reach into your back pocket and pull the remote out. Pressing the number two on it, you watched as your girlfriend went from smug to a mess in mere seconds. Alexia moaned as her legs closed on themselves, feeling the intense vibrations in her core.

“Amor…” she moaned, laying back on the bed in an attempt to calm herself down. You turned the vibrations down to one and get on top of her, slowly taking her mini skirt off. Kissing down her middle, she squirms underneath you as the sensations start to build up.

“Sí princesa?” you coo, rough hands caressing her smooth thighs.

“Need you…” she whimpers, fingers playing with her clothed core. The smooth silk of her lingerie was soaked as you watched her play with herself. Alexia momentarily forgot you were there, bending her legs wide open as she gently pushed her panties off to the side to touch herself properly.

“Looks like you’re all settled in with yourself, don’t think you need me darling.”

“No!” she yelps, “no, need you amor, can’t do it myself.”

“What do you need, mi reina?”

“Need your cock inside me,” she whines, pouting softly. In a stroke of genius, she lifts her pruning fingers to her mouth for a little taste. She watches as your eyes follow her hand in her mouth and you sigh, blinking softly with a smirk on your face. You turn the vibrator back up to two and lean in, grabbing her chin softly.

“I want you bent over with your ass up by the time a get back, understood?”

She nods, eyes fluttering as your thumb pushes gently into her mouth. She sucks for a second and whines when you pull away, watching as you disappear into the en suite closet and bathroom.

Alexia touches herself a little more as she hears you fiddling in the bathroom. Her pussy is soaked and she’s on edge, the vibrator inside was not enough but overwhelming at the same time. She slowly turned onto her stomach, pushing her knees up to arch her back on the bed. She made sure to give you a nice deep arch, settling herself comfortably before hearing you come back into the room again.

“Fuck, you look so gorgeous like that princesa,” you praise, hands caressing her ass as you come up behind her. Your fingers graze over her clothed pussy, all four fingers rubbing at her cold, soaked cunt.

Alexia moaned as you touched her, fingers pressing just right to move the vibrator that was inside her to press on her sweet spot. You leaned down and bit her ass, gently pulling her underwear to the side to retrieve your toy. Alexia gasped as it was pulled out of her, relief washing over her that did not last long.

You reached for the remote and turned it all the way up to five, pressing it right on her throbbing clit. Alexia cried out and couldn’t hold back her brewing orgasm, trembling violently as her second but not last orgasm ripped through her lean frame.

Alexia whimpered into the mattress for you to stop, thighs shaking uncontrollably until you pulled away. Turning the toy off and giving it a rest, you crawled onto the bed facing Alexia. Your cock hung right in front of her face, the semi-hard silicone was tantalizing to say the least. Alexia reached for you, lips wrapping around your cock slowly as she maintained eye contact. You watched as she sucked earnestly, eyes rolling into the back of her head when you thrusted forwards into her mouth.

You gathered her hair into a ponytail, thrusting your hips forward as she gently grasped your thighs for support. She gagged and sputtered all over your cock, gasping for air as you pulled away from her gently. You cupped her face and kissed her passionately, feeling her hand wrap around your cock to lather her spit all over.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” you ask, watching carefully as Alexia turned around to push herself back onto her knees. Her back arched deep, ass pushed out just how you liked.

“Only the best for you,” she says sexily, looking over her shoulder. You grin and nod, reaching for her hips. You press yourself into her, filling her glistening core. Alexia moans, gripping the sheets tight as you fuck into her hard.

Your nails dig into her hips, pulling her back onto your cock. Alexia does nothing to hide her pleasure, moaning loudly in pleasure. You spank her ass, fucking into her deeper. You hike a leg up, giving yourself a little more leverage to fuck into her with purpose.

She wet and sensitive, feeling her third orgasm of the night creep up on her. Suddenly, she hears the vibrator turn back on and feels it press right up against her clit again.

Her mind goes numb with pleasure, orgasm rippling through her hard and fast. She whines and whimpers, lips chattering as she tries her hardest to moan your name.

You pull her up against your chest, hips unwavering as you pound into her way past her orgasm. Tears run down her face as the sensitivity fades and pleasure takes over once more.

“Feels good amor? Is this how you planned to spend your Halloween?”

“Sí! Sí, por favor!” Alexia moaned, reaching back to hold onto you. She could feel that familiar tug behind her navel as you fucked her fourth orgasm out of her. At this point, Alexia was past being coherent in her awareness. She wanted to come, and there was nothing that was going to stop her.

You suddenly stopped thrusting into her, much to her annoyance. You pulled away, slipping out of her dripping hole swiftly. Alexia turned onto her back, ready to rip you another on but you rummaged in your duffel bag, grabbing a long baton-like device. Alexia stared at it curiously, wondering what you had up your sleeve.

Alexia sat up in bed, watching curiously as you sat in front of her. You gave her a glass of water that she was grateful for, making sure that she finished half the glass. She handed it back to you and you finished the rest and put the glass back on the side table.

“What’s that?” she asked, rubbing your thighs gently.

“E-Stim,” you tell her, demonstrating what the baton did on your own skin. She heard the little crack of electricity and it certainly did pique her interest.

“You wanna try it?” you ask, turning the dial down to the lowest setting. “You tell me if you don’t like it and we’ll not use it okay? I’ve got the receipt to return it!”

Alexia laughs at you, nodding gently as you press it gently on her skin. She jolts and you pull away but she looks up at you with a smile.

“¿Estuvo bien?”

She nods.

“Words, princesa.”

“Sí, it was okay,” she mutters. “More than okay.”

You nod, leaning in to kiss her. Alexia smiles into the kiss, laying back gently. You kiss down her chest to her dripping core. You moan as your tongue licks over her folds. Your tongue circles over her clit and she’s got her hands in your hair, grinding her hips into your mouth. Your teeth nibble her clit gently as you push your fingers into her to scissor her open. Three fingers thrust in and out of her with ease, soaking them thoroughly.

You get on top of her and lather some of her never-ending slick on your cock to wet it again. It slips in smoothly, allowing you to get back into fucking her with ease.

You speed your hips up considerably, pounding into her harder and faster. Alexia is back to moaning loudly without a care in the world, holding her legs open as you turn the e-stim stick up a notch. You sting her thigh and the electricity sends a shock straight to her core, thrusting her closer to her fourth orgasm of the night. Alexia looks you in the eye, jaw wide open as she moans her approval.

“Want a little stronger, ¿Cariño?”  

“Please!”

You turn the dial up to three, leaning back to pound into her faster. You sting her stomach this time, just under her belly button. Alexia jolts, abs tightening as her orgasm begins to bubble.

“You wanna come for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes!”

“Come,” you growl in her ear, sending one last sting just above Alexia’s clit. She comes so hard she passes out for a few seconds before regaining consciousness, still impaled on your cock. You fuck her awake and she comes for a solid 30 seconds before you stop.

You lean down and kiss her passionately, pulling out slowly. She’s sensitive and sore, so you grab another bottle of cold water from the mini fridge and gently help her drink it. She gratefully kisses your cheek as you leave her to grab a warm washcloth, wiping her clean.

She starts to whine for you when you leave to rinse the cloth, crawling back into bed to cuddle with the captain.

“Was that good?” you ask, cradling your girlfriend close to you as she scrolls through Netflix.

Alexia nods and turns her head to kiss you, giving you a long and slow kiss that rounded off your night perfectly.

"I'd spill wine all over your outfit one more time if it meant you fucked me like that again."

"Don't tempt me, princesa."

[virginsexgod69]

❝ Video Star — ✩❞

pairing (Season 7) Negan Smith x f!Reader

cw smut, unprotected p in v, slight humiliation, pussy slapping, bow jobs, name calling/ pet names, sex tapes, porn photography?

summary You and Negan have some fun with a digital camera you found on a run.

note ahh this is my first time writing for negan, so i hope it's okay... jdm is just tooo fine. i have wild thoughts whenever he's on screen 🫦

1.5k words

...

"Smile!" you said before snapping the photo, taking Dwight off guard. The picture was blurry and unfocused and due to the flash, he was squinting and not even looking at the camera.

"The hell?" he questioned looking at you crazy. "It's a camera, duh. Found it on a run," you explained. He walked off in an annoyed huff leaving you wondering what crawled up his ass and died. You continued walking about the sanctuary taking pictures of unsuspecting people.

"Laura! Say cheese," you prompted the blonde woman as she approached you. She rolled her eyes and held her hand up to the camera, affectively ruining the picture.

"Negan wants to see you," she said. You turned off the camera and looped the strap around your wrist before heading toward his room. What is was he wanted, you had no clue. Your relationship with the man in charge was an odd one. Toeing the line between wife and solider, you had no clue where you stood. Sometimes he sent you on runs, other times he spoiled you with little treats so you wouldn't have to spend any of your points. Once, when he called you in to have a glass of 30 year old scotch with him, the two of you ended up fucking in a drunken haze which lead to regular hookups. You knocked on the door once you arrived and waited patiently for him to let you in, wondering what he wanted and hoping it was to hook up.

He opened the door, revealing him leaning against the door frame in his white t-shirt with Lucille in hand. You stood there nervously, not knowing what to say or what mood to expect from him.

"You just gonna stand there lookin' stupid or you gonna come in?" He asked. He had such a way with words. You stepped into the large room and let him lead you to the couch by the small of your back. You sat in the chair facing the couch he took a seat in.

"Got a little somethin' for ya," he said with a wolfish grin on his face. You relaxed a little as he seemed fairly happy.

"What is it?" you asked, excitement lacing your voice. He reached behind his back and tossed a ball of white fabric at you. You held it up and revealed it was a sheer, lace babydoll dress. Heat flooded your cheeks as you realized that he expected you to put it on.

"Um...could you look away while I change," you asked shyly.

"I've seen you naked, been inside you, but you don't want me to see you change?" he mocked.

"Neeegaan," you whined. He rolled his eyes with a sigh, but covered his eyes with his hand nonetheless. You made quick work of stripping off your clothes, including you underwear, and put on the sheer number. It was a bit small. It struggled to contain your breasts and stopped at your mid-upper thigh, but to Negan, it added to your sex appeal.

"Goddamn, baby. You look fuckin' hot!" He said as he admired you. It was so sheer it barely left anything to the imagination and the lacy parts made you look angelic.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," you teased with newfound confidence brought on by Negan's words. Then you remembered your digital camera. "Here." You tossed the camera to him. He caught it and smirked when he realized what it was. A lustful look washed over his eyes as he turned the device on.

"On your knees," he ordered using his leader voice. You quickly and eagerly obeyed him, which only made his dick harden in his pants. He walked over to you and grabbed you jaw in a large hand, tilting it up to look at him before snapping a picture.

"Just look at you. My pretty little doll." And that's exactly what you felt like. His pretty little doll. His to dress and pose and fuck however he wants. It made you wet, giving him full control over you like this.

"Take those panties off." Your body was hot with lust and shame as you slid the moistening garment off your body.

"Get on all fours." You did so and he manually readjusted you to how he wanted. Your ass in the air and back arched with your chin rested on your arms crossed beneath you. The skirt of the dress slid up your body, exposing you to the cool air of the room. Negan snapped a few pictures of your face before moving behind you. You squeaked in shock when you felt his finger slide up and down your slit.

"Damn. So wet and I barely touched you." The humiliation of him taking pictures of your bare pussy only made you wetter. You got on your knees again and turned to face Negan.

"Let's make a sex tape," you suggested as you fiddled with his belt. His signature grin blossomed on his face and he looked down at you with lust filled, hazel eyes.

"Fuck yeah!" He started recording once you got his belt off and pulled his pants and boxers down just enough to free his hard cock. It sprang up, hitting his abdomen and revealing veins you could only see when he was erect. You took him in your hands, licking the precum off his sensitive tip before taking it in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around it while slowly stroking the rest with your hands.

"Quit your goddamn teasing and suck my dick," he impatiently demanded. You looked up into the camera with mischief laden eyes as you took the rest of him into your warm mouth, earning a guttural moan from the man. Your pussy fluttered at the sound. Eager to hear it again, you stopped teasing and picked up the pace. But it must not have been enough since Negan grabbed into your hair and began fucking your face at his own rapid pace, ignoring the way you gagged around his large member and the tears streaming down your pretty face.

"That's it. Takin' me so good doll." Your cunt throbbed at the praise. He was getting close, you could tell by the way he twitched inside your mouth. He groaned as he emptied his white hot load down your throat.

"You did so good baby," he praised as he wiped the tears off your face with his thumb. He helped you up off the floor before pushing you onto his bed.

"Show me that pretty little cunt of yours." He spread open your legs and zoomed the camera in on your soaked pussy. Your inner thighs were coated with your arousal, as well. He delivered a rough slap to your pussy, forcing a moan out of you.

"You like it when I hit you, huh?" You could hear the smirk in his voice as he did it again.

"Please Negan! Need you so bad," you begged from beneath him. He ignored your pleas and directed the camera to your breasts, which were barely contained by the babydoll. He pulled them out with little effort. He gave you the camera to hold while he focused his attention to them.

"Such pretty tits," he complimented before nipping your nipple. You squealed in shock and pleasure. He had never done that before, but you liked it. With a flattened tongue, he licked the nipple he bit, soothing it before taking it into his mouth. The scratch of his beard felt so good on your sensitive, bare breasts. He rolled the nipple that wasn't in his mouth between his thumb and pointer finger, causing you to squirm.

"Need you inside," you slurred. Negan pulled away from you r breast with a pop and took the camera back from you.He zoomed in on his own hard-again dick as he lined it up with your sopping hole. You were so wet he slid in effortlessly. You moaned in ecstasy as he finally put out that fire that was burning in you. He didn't hesitate as he started thrusting into you at a merciless pace. The leader couldn't decide if he wanted to focus the camera on the way your cunt swallowed him hole, the outline of his dick protruding through your stomach, your tits as they bounced in unison with his rapid thrusts, or your eyes rolling back in the head of your fucked out face. He zoomed out, capturing the beauty of it all.

"Such a good little fucktoy for me," he admonished. His words brought you closer to the edge as your walls clamped down on his cock.

"Negan 'm gnna," your own moan cut off your nonsensical, fucked babbles.

"So drunk on my cock," he grunted as he filled you with his seed, not waiting for you to reach your own peak. But he didn't have to since you came right after, arching off the bed. He pulled out and zoomed the camera in on your abused cunt. His cum slowly leaked out of your hole and onto the dark bed spread. That was the perfect place to end the video, he decided.

"Hot damn. Were you a porn star before the world went to shit?"

...

not proofread, sorry! thanks for reading! <3

i uploaded this from my phone, so sorry if it's a bit of a mess.

[softspiderling]

illicit affairs - part three | r.c

summary:

“Are you crazy?” he asked, his voice suddenly all breathy. “I’m still worked up off of Monique last week. I will literally cum the second you put your mouth on me.”

“Don’t mention Moany while I have your dick in my hand.”

“Technically-”

Rafe broke off when you lifted your head, raising a brow at him.

“A’ight, precious, I didn’t say nothin’.”

OR; You and Rafe move in unfamiliar territory

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: SMUT! 18+ MDNI! p in v, oral sex (female receiving)

word count: 2.4k

author's note: uhm.... this is basically just porn. yeah. also can't believe that the first time i post rafe smut is part of this series lmaoooo. happy reading, i hope you love it <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

pt. three: "a dwindling mercurial high"

Pulling away for a second, Rafe tugged his shirt off, tossing it somewhere over his shoulder, before his hands were already back on you, helping you out of your top and letting it drop on the floor. Even though you just lost an item of clothing, you still felt so hot, and it didn’t help that Rafe’s eyes immediately zeroed in on your chest. But before either of you could get carried too far away, you stopped, heaving breaths.

“Wait.”

“What?” Rafe asked, fingers playing with the straps of your bra, eager to take it off.

“We’re not having sex on the couch.”

He sat back, as if just realizing you were still in the living room. “Right, shit. Sorry.”

Before you could ask what he was sorry for, he looped his arm around your waist, easily picking you up and if you weren’t already wet, your panties would be drenched by now. Your legs hooked around his side, as if you had done it a million times before, clinging to him as he carried you upstairs into his bedroom. Without much ado, he tossed you on the bed, and you yelped, glaring at him.

“Is this how you treat all the girls?”

Rafe grinned at you, kneeling on the bed and tugging your shorts and panties down in one go, thumb stroking your inner thigh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make up for it,” he promised, and before you could say anything, his face was already between your legs, tongue delving between your folds.

“Fuuuuck.”

Your hands dove into his hair, nails scratching over his scalp as he ate you out, the pad of his thumb pressing onto your bundle of nerves like there was no tomorrow. God, you really missed this, missed some good oral sex, because for some reason, your exes either refused to go down on you or were terrible at it. But Rafe? Rafe was excellent. And you weren’t surprised.

Lips parted, to let out small, breathy moans, which turned into a groan when Rafe slowly pushed a finger into you.

“Shit, give a girl a warning,” you gasped out, your hips arching from the bed, but Rafe pushed it back down easily with one hand, grinning up at you.

“I did. Told you I’d make it up to you, didn’t I?” He asked, lazily pumping his finger in and out and if you weren’t rolling your eyes out of pleasure, you’d be rolling them out of annoyance. Beads of sweat were rolling down your temple as Rafe added a second finger, your toes curling as he added a third. It didn’t take long for you to feel the warm, familiar sensation of an orgasm building in your stomach and let out a soft moan, causing Rafe to look at you, eyebrow raised.

“I’m so close Rafe,” you whined, voice breathless.

“Yeah? Are you going to cum for me?”

“Just shut up and put your mouth to better use!” You huffed, pushing his head down towards your cunt. You could feel him chuckling against your skin, but he obeyed your orders anyways. He brought his mouth down, sucking on your clit, his fingers never stopped moving. You let out a gasp, feelings the knot uncoiling, so close.

“Yes, so close,” you moaned, hands dropping on the mattress, fingers curling around the bedsheets, your hips arching off the bed when your orgasm finally washed over you, Rafe’s name leaving your lips like a prayer.

“Fuck that was hot,” he muttered, licking his fingers clean like he just finished the meal of his life. You let your head fall back on the pillow, letting out a breath, your eyes fluttering close.

“Did I wear you out already?” Rafe asked, leaning up to place a rather soft kiss on your lips. You huffed, kissing him back before pulling away, peeking an eye open at him.

“Don’t ruin it by opening your mouth.”

The corner of Rafe’s mouth quirked up, and he pushed your sweaty hair out of your face. “Are you always this mean to guys you have sex with?” The way he looked at you made your cheeks heat up, despite the fact that he was just between your legs.

“No. Just you.”

Rafe opted against replying, only grinning, leaning up to reach behind your back to finally unclasp your bra, which you gladly let fall off your shoulders. He didn’t waste any time to put his mouth on one of your tits, his hand on the other, kneading it gently, his fingers rolling your nipple, while his tongue laved around the other, until it turned into a stiff peak.

“I can’t believe it took you this long to show me your tits,” he said, leaving a wet trail of kisses on your chest. You let out a breathy moan, giving him a look.

“Why the fuck would I have shown you my tits?”

“Why not?”

You pushed him on the forehead gently, so he’d fall back on his back, a crease forming on his forehead, and you could tell he was not done playing with your tits, but this was your turn. Now it was you who was getting between his legs, pulling his shorts down, hand immediately palming his erection through his boxers. “Can I blow you?”

“Are you crazy?” he asked, his voice suddenly all breathy. “I’m still worked up off of Monique last week. I will literally cum the second you put your mouth on me.”

“Don’t mention Moany while I have your dick in my hand.”

“Technically-”

Rafe broke off when you lifted your head, raising a brow at him.

“A’ight, Precious, I didn’t say nothin’.”

Slowly, you tugged his boxers off, not quite sure what to expect. Your jaw did drop when you saw his cock sprang free, bouncing off his abdomen.

“Shit.”

You didn’t have to look at Rafe to know he had a shit eating grin on his face, he was your best friend after all. You knew him like the backside of your hand.

“Do you have a condom?”

“In the top drawer, can’t miss it,” Rafe said and you leaned over the bed to open the drawer. “The XXL ones.”

“Oh my god, literally shut up,” you groaned, fishing a red foiled packet out of the drawer, shutting it close again. Settling back between his legs, you were about to open the foil, when you noticed the look on his face.

“What?”

Rafe only shrugged, running a hand through his hair and you gave him a look.

“Rafe, what?”

“You’re gonna yell at me.”

You followed his eyesight to the condom, before you realized what he didn’t want to say. “You want to do it without a condom?”

He shrugged again.

“Rafe, you have sex with like ten girls a week.”

“Are you slut shaming me right now, Precious?” Rafe asked with a snort. “I never fuck anyone without a condom and you know I get tested regularly. And I trust you. You’re on the pill, right?”

You shifted on your knees, contemplating his suggestion. You usually had sex without condoms becuase you liked it better that way, but you were afraid that one less layer between you and Rafe would change even more between the two of you. And yes, you realized how stupid it sounded.

Rafe interpreted your silence as turning his suggestion down, wrapping his hand around your thigh. “’s fine. Let’s use a condom.”

“No, I’m good. I was just thinking,” you assured him, tossing the packaged condom on the drawer. “I trust you.”

“Are you sure?”

You tried to ignore how concerned Rafe was looking and you nodded, wrapping your hand around his cock.

“Yes.”

“Shit okay,” Rafe groaned, bucking his lips a little. You gave his cock a few good pumps, anticipation building in you, before you crawled over him until you were hovering just over the tip. Rafe’s hands found their place on your waist and you felt him squeezing you as you slowly lowered yourself on his cock, the both of you moaning out.

“Fuck.”

You gave yourself a second to adjust, mostly due to his sheer size, but also because you felt like you had to take a second. This was Rafe. Your best friend. For some reason, you thought this had to feel weird, but all you could think about was how right it felt.

“You good?” Rafe asked, his voice tight.

You exhaled, nodding, before started to move up and down on his cock, movement fluid from your slick and his precum, your hands leaning on his chest.

“Shit, Precious.”

Your cheeks flamed, hearing the familiar nickname being used in such an unfamiliar setting with Rafe. Terrified that you were wearing your emotions on your face, you leaned further forward so he couldn’t see your face, while simultaneously giving yourself more space to move. Soon, the bedroom filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, coupled with both your and Rafe’s moans, as the two of you found your rhythm.

Rafe was right, the sex with him was amazing, because of the two of you just worked. He knew just the right moment to snap up his hips to hit the right spot as you rode him, knew how to guide your waist on his cock and when your hips started to stutter, Rafe didn’t hesitate to flip you over, laying you on your back.

“Hey, I wasn’t done,” you protested breathlessly, hair fanning around his pillow. Rafe scoffed, lining up his cock, sliding in, before he pounded into you, holding into the headboard as it kept banging against the wall. Gasping, your eyes rolled back, as Rafe kept fucking into you, your eyes fluttering open when you noticed him getting closer to you, his breath hot on your face as he panted.

“You were saying?”

“Shut up,” you moaned, pulling him down to kiss him, bringing his body closer, his movements never stopping. Slowly, you could feel another orgasm build up, your toes curling. It must have shown on your face, because Rafe pinched your nipple, his cock driving in and out of you.

“You close?”

Nodding, you let out a soft moan, arching your back a little, yearning for your orgasm, even though you had just cum not that long ago,

“M’too,” he groaned, his hips stuttering. He reached down, applying pressure in circular motions against your bud with his finger, keeping fucking into you.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you whined, nails digging into his shoulders, “Yes, yes, yes, fuck, Rafe!”

“Can I?” he breathed out, his face contorting, and you only nodded, muttering a soft yes, before he finished inside of you, and when you felt his warm come spurt into, you reached your peak, your breath stuttering out as you came, body arching off of the mattress, before you slumped back down, exhausted. Carefully, Rafe pulled out, flopping down on the bed next to you, catching his breath.

“Fuck,” he said, pushing his hair out of his face, glancing over to you. “Wait, let me grab a towel.”

You didn’t even have any energy to protest as Rafe got up to pad to the bathroom. Your eyes were shut as you recovered from your orgasm, before realization suddenly hit you.

You just had sex with Rafe.

Your best friend, Rafe.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, rubbing your hands all over your face. It wasn’t like you regretted it per se, you just wasn’t sure if this was the smartest move to do.

It didn’t take long for Rafe to return, having put on some boxers somewhere on the way to the bathroom. He knelt down on the bed, careful to wipe the cum off of you, and you winced when he brushed over your still sensitive cunt.

“Relax, I know what I’m doing,” he said, pressing a soft kiss on your inner thigh. And he wasn’t lying. His hands were gentle as they moved over your lower body, applying soft pressure with the wet cloth where it was needed to clean you off.

“Who knew you were so gentle with your sex partners,” you teased, leaning on your elbows to watch him. Rafe’s cheeks tinged pink and he tossed the dirty towel into the hamper after he was done.

“Shut up.”

He reached over to the side to hand you his shirt, and you pulled it over your head, glancing around, eyes squinted.

“Where did you toss my panties?”

“Uh…” Rafe looked around, before pausing, picking up your panties from the floor at the end of the bed. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” you snorted, putting your panties back on, before you got off the bed. Rafe watched with careful eyes, scratching his head.

“You’re seriously not still going home, are you Precious?”

“Rafe,” you sighed, giving him a look. “I need to pee.”

“Right, sorry.”

You shook your head in amusement, before making your way to the bathroom, the nickname ringing in your head. As you did your business on the toilet - since you did not want to end up with an UTI - you wondered if you could get Rafe to stop calling you Precious during sex. It just felt weird, like a permanent reminder that you were still just his best friend.

With the difference that you were having sex now, that is.

Flushing the toilet, you went to the sink, washing your hands and frowned at your reflection in the mirror, before calling out his name.

“Hey, can you maybe not call me Precious while we’re fucking?”

He didn’t say anything and you weren’t sure if he fell asleep, so you tiptoed into the bedroom, pausing in the doorway when you saw him look at you with an odd look on his face, halfway tucked into bed.

“Why?”

You shrugged with your shoulders, feeling like he was staring you down, so you crawled under the blankets on the left side of the bed.

This? This felt like familiar territory. You had spent countless nights sleeping in the same bed as Rafe. But everything before that? Terribly unfamiliar.

“I don’t know, it’s weird.”

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Sure Precious,” he said, leaning over to the nightstand to shut the light off, basking you in darkness.

“Whatever you want.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: thoughts?

[julietsbody]

thinking of luke finding his best friend high at one of those parties they secretly hold at camp… 

semi inspired by murdrdocs’ blurb abt smoking w luke & princessbrunette’s blurb abt jj finding his innocent friend high!!

typically luke never came to these, he was never really a party person, just until you’re texting him some sloppy words that barely make any sense— so now he’s weaving his way through the mess of trees towards the booming music in the distance. did they know how to not get caught? 

luke’s nose scrunches as soon as he gets close enough to make out where you might be in that bright pink skirt he always saw you in, his steps move faster, especially since you’re talking to some asshole from the hades cabin. his jaw shifts as soon as he plants his hands on your shoulders, pupils cinched as he glares at the man you’re speaking with. 

“oh, hey, luke!” you smile so sweet, a little too sweet, in fact, you smell.. he blinks once, then again, then again. to be honest, you don’t really remember texting luke, and it’s always a pleasant surprise to see him appear out of nowhere.

“hey, uh, lets go, yeah?” his hands are gentle when they move you to take a step or two back from the brooding man who clearly looks disappointed, if not a little agitated, with luke’s arrival. 

“but ‘m having fun, do you want to meet my friend? this is my friend—“ 

“yeah, yeah,” luke stares at the man for a second, “hey, dude, ‘kay, time to go.” 

“seems like she doesn’t want to,” the man suddenly speaks, and it should be a blessing from hades himself that luke doesn’t have his sword strapped to his belt. 

“seems like she does since she texted me,” his tone is firmer, a certain bitterness and bite to it, “should be lucky ‘m too busy to rip that smartass smirk off your face.” 

the last sentence comes out as a mumble as he gently guides you away from the party, having to take more of a precaution than usual since you’re stumbling an awful lot. god, how much did you smoke. 

“why’d you say that to him—“ 

“mmm, no reason— hey.. jus’ asking but, you didn’t get that weed from one of the guys there, right?” you seemed much more than just high, unless you smoked like, five blunts— gods, did you? 

“no, nono, got it from um.. lucy, she said it was reaaaalllyyyy strong but like— i only smoked a little,” he hums along to your non - stop giggles, failing to keep his hands from your shoulders since every time he lets go you nearly walk into a tree. 

“yeah, yup, jus’ a little, you know, uh.. you could always just ask to smoke with me,” he shrugs like it’s simple. 

“wooow, you smoke..?” you ask very slowly all of a sudden. 

“what, you think ‘m not cool enough to?” he tuts, steering you to the hermes cabin, which is of course, empty as it always is. you were sure the hermes kids were all dead by now since every time you’re in the cabin it’s vacant, well, besides chris, but he’s always glaring at luke and leaving to bother clarisse. 

“not what i said—“ you frown up at him, and he just nods, moving to sit you down on his bed as he inspects your face to make sure you’re solely high on weed— you really do reek of it, gosh, maybe he should spray his cologne on you. he doesn’t get more time to think before you’re pawing at him, “miss you, luke, talk to me.” 

he chuckles at the hazy glint in your eyes, “c’mon, princess, ‘m not the man for that job.” 

you hook a finger around one of the belt loops on his jeans, tugging him in closer, “what do you mean?” 

“‘m your friend,” it comes out hushed, breathy, “jus’ here to take care of you.” 

“so take care of me,” your eyes catch on to the bulge forming in his pants, a lazy smile curving your lips upwards. 

he pauses for a second, considering, before unhooking your hand from his pants and moving you to lay down on his bed, “time to get some beauty sleep, yeah? g’na get me in trouble if you keep acting out, princess.”