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#i am so embarrassingly down bad for him
saucingitup · 3 months
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Kraken broadcaster JT Brown shares why Pride is so important to him and why he’ll be celebrating the LGBTQ+ community all month long
June is an exciting month. There’s Stanley Cup final hockey on the TV, the sun is shining down on Seattle, I hit the links on Father’s Day, and it's Pride month—a month dedicated to celebrating the LGBTQ+ community and commemorating the 1969 Stonewall Uprising in Manhattan. In our house, June is a busy month, but nothing gets celebrated harder than Pride.
Earlier this month, I had the honor of playing in the Seattle Pride Classic at the Kraken Community Iceplex. The invitation to share the ice with LGBTQ+ players from all over is an honor I don’t take lightly. Striking up a conversation on the bench between shifts, I turned to the player next to me. “Nice tape job. Canucks fan?” I said, noting the different colors of tape spiraling down the blade. “No, these colors represent one of the queer flags,” they said.
The bad news is I felt like an idiot. The good news is, I’ll always recognize that flag. Trying means stumbling, losing the puck, shooting wide (pick your analogy), but I’ve never been too proud to admit I caused the turnover and apologize. And we both laughed because sometimes falling on your ass is funny.
From ice to asphalt, the Pride celebration continues as my family and I will be at the 50th annual Seattle Pride Parade on June 30. As someone who is known for their flair for flashy game-day suits, it should not come as a surprise that I love an excuse to get dressed up. Throw in good music and free swag and you’ll understand why I don’t miss a pride parade.
And no one does pride quite like Seattle. It’s no wonder the Kraken pull up to the parade every year with a crew so deep I momentarily worry we’re going to hold up the parade. We’re out there flinging Kraken giveaways like someone is keeping score of how many each employee can hand out—I always aim for the high score.
Of course, being an ally isn't just flinging Kraken patches into a crowd or embarrassingly mistaking flag colors for rival team branding. A lot of it is just showing up.
I show up for my queer wife so she knows I support her even if I still don’t understand what “Brat summer” means. I show up for my kids so they know I love their authentic selves no matter what. I show up for my friends so they know they’re safe with me. I show up because there are LGBTQ+ people out there who are being stood up by the ones they love, by policies, by corporations, by strangers.
People always praise me for being an ally, but having been on the receiving end of bigotry, I know how much easier it is to stand on this side. When I fight for BIPOC equality, I am always lifted by the voices and support of the LGBTQ+ community. Every single time, they have supported me in my fight to help end racism in hockey.
They have been incredible teammates to me and so being one to them was never a choice I made, it was just something I did—and will continue to do with whatever platform I’m given. Everyone deserves the safety and support to live their authentic lives. When we lift up those who need us most, we all reap the benefits of a safer and more inclusive space.
This Pride month, I’d like to encourage others to show up—unabashedly loud and proud—for yourself and for others. Have a happy, safe, and fun Pride!
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fev3rish · 3 months
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GOOD LUCK KISSES. kenji tots w/ v
kenji’s body accepts you.
notes. i got a little bit carried away so we have this now. i want kenji so bad man it’s not even funny, no warnings just pure love also i am CRAZY for this man i want him SO BAD. this is also kind of shitty.
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thinking about giving kenji sato the lovin’ he deserves.
“babe…” kenji muttered, trying to fight back against your touch. he had so much work to do. he had to train for his next game; it was his biggest one yet! he couldn’t afford—“rest.”
your voice pierced through his own thoughts. soft, sweet, an arrow right through his heart. against his better judgement, kenji let himself scooch into the bed with you. he laid between your legs, the back of his head against your chest as you ran your hands down his hair, all the way to his shoulders. you pressed into the skin and kneaded through the kinks in his shoulder; essentially, giving him a massage.
the sounds he let out in response are almost embarrassingly lewd.
“kenji,” your voice called to him again, and he looked up at you—those big, sparkly eyes of his pleading for you to continue, to loosen him up— “unclench your jaw.” he did.
he didn’t even notice that he did, he just did—his body reacted to you asking him like it was nothing. “it’s okay ken, you’re okay. i’ll take care of you tonight.” you spoke, leaning in and he instinctively tilted his head, only for you to kiss his forehead, which left him a bit needy. “you work too hard.” you state, “i barely work enough.” he replies, and you frown. you flick near the bridge of his nose, and he laughs lightly. “you need to rest.” you say, leaving no room for argument. he doesn’t want to argue in the first place, he’s perfectly content laying on you right now.
—then you place your hands on his chest, down his stomach and to his thighs. he sucks in a breath as you whisper, “you’re so pretty, ken.” and you play with his fingers, and kiss every callous, and he wants to stop you—but he doesn’t even want you to. he wants to tell you he’s not one for sappy shit like this but he is. and you look so pretty telling him how pretty he is, so he lets you.
he lets you comb through his hair until it’s silky smooth, lets you caress his face, he lets you tell him that he’s “beautiful.” and the worst part is that he smiles when you do. he lets you love him.
— “kenjiii…”
your voice drags his name out, and he perks up, waiting for what you have to say. Instead, you take his hands—they’re calloused, and rough, but they’re pretty. he’s confused, but then you press your lips to his knuckles and you place kisses on each one.
his eyes bulge out of his own head, butterflies swarming in his belly wildly—his mouth hangs open as you move on to his other hand. you hold his other one, still, and you press it to your cheek. when you finish giving him kisses, you place a kiss to his temple… and then one final kiss to his lips. his mouth goes dry as he looks at you. you only shrug. “for next week. one of your bigger games, right? it’s to give you good luck.”
good luck? kenji thinks, staring at his hands.
good luck?
“your kisses? goodluck?” kenji thinks out loud, “baby, you just fucking baptized me.” he feels like a new man with every kiss you plant on him, and it’s hard not to want more when you just look like that. but these kisses? these kisses on his knuckles? he feels cleansed.
the next week, when he wins the game, he points at you.
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saetoru · 1 year
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ LUCKY — GOJO SATORU.
contents. baths + non sexual nudity, established relationships, tired toru :(, lots of kissies and praise for the babie :(, solid proof in the form of writing of how embarrassingly lovesick i am for this FOOL
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it’s past midnight when satoru walks into your bathroom. he doesn’t even question why you’re in the bath so late—just gives you a lopsided grin tiredly as you smile.
“you’re home,” you brighten.
“look at you,” he coos, staring down at you with amused eyes, “waitin’ for me?”
satoru is tired—you can tell from the way the his shoulders are slouched and his blindfold is clutched in his hand. “i was,” you hum in agreement, “c’mere.”
it’s all it takes. he’s stripped down and waiting for you to move up so he can slide behind you in seconds, hand waving to motion you forward. but you’re stubborn—you shake your head as you hold an arm out for him.
“baby,” he whines, “c’mon i was out fighting big bad curses all day. jus’ lemme hold—”
“no. just come here, toru,” you insist.
there’s something about it—something about the way your voice is so gentle, so insistent, so knowing. it’s like you can read him more than he can, sometimes. satoru is tired, you can see it, you can feel it. you can’t carry his burdens, but you can hold him while he holds the weight of the world for a night.
maybe it’ll do for now—maybe it’ll even be enough and more.
“what? feelin’ like pampering me today?” he teases, “aren’t i a lucky guy,” he hums—but he climbs into the tub anyway, settling between your legs, leaning his back against your chest as his head falls back against your shoulder.
instantly, two gentle kisses plant themselves against his head, and his eyes flutter shut. he’s starting to feel the beginnings of a headache form—the gentle thump in his skull just barely there, but persistently present.
your thumbs rubs along the sides of his head, enough pressure to soothe the pain like you know it’s coming—he thinks you must.
“you are a lucky guy,” you giggle, “look at me. such a catch.”
he grins, chuckling that boyish chuckle of his freely in your arms as he relaxes. it’s been a while since he’s relaxed, you think—it’s half past midnight and he’ll be up with the sun in a bit to head back to the school, but it’s nice to know he’s relaxed. even just for this short, rare moment.
“oh yeah,” he nods, lips curled into a grin as he cracks an eye open and peers up at you, “s no catch like my pretty ‘lil baby. i’m living it up.”
“glad you know your privileges,” you murmur contently, shaking your head in amusement as you wrap your arms around his body. one hand rubs over his abs—he wants to tease you about feeling him up, wants to make a sly comment about missing his body more than him while he was gone. but there’s something about it, about the way it’s so slow and soothing and soft—it’s so painfully soft, satoru swallows.
finally, he lets his body go slack against yours, sliding down so his head rests against your chest and the water soaks more of his body. it’s warm. the water and your arms. it’s all so, so warm and forgiving.
“aren’t you gonna tell me how lucky you are too? i’ll listen, don’t worry. no interruptions.”
“yeah?” you chuckle, threading fingers through his hair and pulling a soft sigh from him, “wanna know how lucky i am?”
“course,” he murmurs, “well, i already know you’re lucky. it’s me after all—but i’m not opposed to hearing it.”
“how humble of you, satoru,” you snort.
he grins wider—he hasn’t had a chance to smile all day. not properly, at least.
“feel free to start any second,” he says with a wink. then his eyes flutter shut again as your thumb traces his cheek, ever so gently running along the soft angles of his face.
it’s pretty—everything about him is pretty. there are no ugly parts to satoru. just the parts painted from cruel hands. they’re beautiful too, you like to think, in their own, fragile little ways.
“okay,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head, “i’m very lucky,” you murmur into his hair.
he hums, mumbling a quiet, “knew it.”
“lucky i have such a handsome face to greet,” you pepper kisses along his forehead and find his cheek, giving it an affectionate little bite that makes him huff out an amused chuckle. “and he’s so tall too,” you add, resting your chin on his shoulder.
“that all he is?” he pouts, “just a pretty face? you’re breaking my heart, baby.”
“no,” you say quietly, grabbing his hand and brushing a thumb over his knuckles, “he’s also kind. too kind, sometimes,” you say quietly, “he comes home a bit later than usual every once in a while because he took his students out to eat. he loves them a bit too much, i think.”
“no such thing as too much love,” he hums, squeezing your hand.
you smile, admiring him as he lays against you, small in your hold even with the larger than life weight he carries.
“and he’s strong,” you add, “really strong. it’s not fair sometimes,” you whisper, “he’s got so much on his plate.”
“he handles it fine,” he assures, “he always does.”
“and then he still makes time for little old me,” you say fondly, kissing his shoulder, “never lets me feel lonely. he’s too good to me.”
“there’s no such thing as too good for you,” he gasps offendedly, pouting like you’ve insulted him, “he’s definitely not—”
“and sometimes, he comes home tired. and he tries to act like he’s not because he’s a bit of a prick who doesn’t let me help, but i’m smart and i know him well so i’ve figured it out. and if i’m extra lucky, i might get to hold him for a bit like this and help him relax.”
you squeeze him gently for emphasis, holding him closer as you press your nose into his neck and breathe in his smell. it’s like cologne that’s rudely expensive and that sweet smell only satoru has—it’s all you want to breathe in for the rest of your days.
you hope he’ll allow you that much. something tells you he will.
satoru swallows thickly at that, rubs a thumb over your bare thigh as he rests his free hand over it, the other still in your grasp.
and then, quietly, “maybe he’s fine just coming home to you,” he shrugs, “who can stay tired with such a sweet face waiting at home?”
“i don’t know,” you say thoughtfully, “he’s got a lot to take care of. wonder how he does it.”
“he’s probably the strongest,” he shoots with an easy grin, “sounds like the strongest to me.”
“he is,” you nod, “he’s a lot more than that too. i’m lucky he’s mine.”
“oh yeah?” he drawls—there’s something a little shaky about his voice though.
you choose not to mention it, pressing soft, delicate kisses along his jaw as you murmur, “yeah. he makes me feel really, really lucky. love him so much.”
“love you too,” satoru breathes, “guess we’re both really, really lucky.”
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don’t talk to me i don’t want to be perceived. that’s enough softness for a lifetime so the next time i write him he’s getting hit by a bus
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multicohn · 22 days
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summary: fans have been asking for lando’s gf to appear on stream with him and she finally gives in
warnings: none
pairing: fem! reader x lando norris
genre: fluff
face claim: no one
author note: y/n is bad at video games in this, sorry if you’re good at them
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
lando had never been more excited to start streaming and it definitely showed as he greeted fans with such excitement they’ve only seen from him after a good race. meanwhile, y/n sat beside him ( out of shot ) and nervously fiddled with her fingers.
“today-“ he clapped his hand together and y/n jumped which made him look over and laugh a little, “-sorry, so, i got a special guest with me and gave her a bit of a fright” lando then pulled y/n chair into view which made the stream chat explode
“FINALLY”
“Y/N ON STREAM OHMYGOD”
“YES (SHIP NAME) CONTENT WE LOVE TO SEE IT”
y/n smiled and waved to the camera while lando loaded up the game. he discussed that she would be playing a few games by herself and that he’s just here for moral support, y/n leaned into him before reading some comments out loud as they waited for the game to load.
“how did we meet?” lando coughed and looked away embarrassingly as y/n smiled
“he needed a jump start and i was the only one with cables, he said he’ll buy me a coffee as a thank you and had the employee write his number on the bottom of my cup-“ y/n started laughing, “-i didn’t even know and threw the cup away, but we met again and this time i needed a jump start. he asked why i hadn’t called and i was like ‘i don’t have your number’, ‘i had the café guy write my number on the bottom of your cup’, ‘oh, i didn’t even know and threw it away’ then he made sure that i had his number in my phone”
“i mean, seriously, why didn’t you check?”
“why would i?”
“…well, you just should’ve” y/n rolled her eyes before pressing start
it was chaos.
“GO LEFT! LEFT!”
“SHUT UP, I’M SCARED”
“RUN! RUN!”
“WHY AM I SO SLOW?”
y/n sunk down into the chair as the words ‘GAME OVER’ popped up onto the screen.
‘this is why i didn’t want to do this” she sulked while lando switched over to a different game
“can i just quit?”
“chat, can she quit?”
“NO”
“ITS OKAY Y/N I ALSO SUCK”
“PLEASE NO YOU REPRESENT US WHO GET SCARED EASILY”
lando gave his girlfriend a smug smile and it took everything in her to not whack it off his face.
y/n has never been very good at video games, preferring to play easy ones like the sims or even roblox. lando didn’t care much about it, finding her asking questions about the games he plays comforting, especially when he’s stressed. lando would also let her take control when he had a simple task to do or ask for help when having to pick a hard decision. it’s nice just having y/n by his side — even if she wasn’t paying attention to what he was playing.
“lando, i swear if this is a horror game”
“nah, it’s not”
• • •
“GET AWAY FROM ME”
“THROUGH THE VENTS”
“LANDO I’M SCARED”
“JUST KEEP RUNNING”
“WHERE DO I GO?”
“LEFT”
“AHHHHH”
despite y/n making a fool of herself, fans absolutely loved it; lando bursting out into laughter every few seconds while she yelled at him for help, y/n leaning away in case of a jump scare, her trying to leave and lando pulling her back, them both laughing after y/n died and her trying to tell lando off while laughing herself.
“it’s okay, baby. we’ll be losers together” y/n pouted as he hugged her, the screen showing the words “YOU DIED” again
“let’s end it here, i don’t think my mentality can take anymore” lando smiled and kissed her cheek before letting her go
“okay, chat. for the sake of y/n’s mental health, we’ll be ending it here. thank you joining and she will be back-“
“no”
“-she will! don’t worry guys!”
“lando-“
“bye, chat!”
“you little-“
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Need mutual masturbation with stepbro rafe 🤠 leading in just rubbing but "accidentally" put in
he just can’t help himself 🙄💕
It was in your pretty pink bedroom of all places. Your gorgeous self was laid on the silky sheets, naked except for a pair of white lace panties. Rafe was in complete awe, rubbing his hard-on in the boxers he wore. It was taking everything in him not to pull his cock out and shove it in your tiny hole, instead watching your manicured hands slowly run down your body. He sniffed, blue eyes raking over your figure as those ridiculous acrylics came to the hem of your panties. His face remained unfazed as he gave you a nod.
“Those off too. I wanna watch you touch your pussy.” He said bluntly, trying to hide his excitement.
You nervously pulled them off, closing your legs once the material fell on the floor. You shouldn’t be letting your stepbrother see your most intimate parts, but Rafe kept telling you he knew best and you didn’t know any better but to listen to him. Your poor cunt was betraying you as well, juices leaking down to your little puckered hole as he took his hands and spread your legs open.
Rafe couldn’t help but gawk at your puffy folds. His stepsister’s pussy was the prettiest cunt he had ever seen and he had to put his dick into it. His hooded eyes traveled back up, noticing the nervous look on your face. “Don’t be scared. Yeah? I know you play with yourself. Lemme see.” He said, deciding not to admit completely that he had watched you masturbate a time or two.
Your glittery nails slowly began rubbing yourself, letting out a sigh as you circled over your aching clit. You were embarrassingly soaked, running your fingers down your slippery folds. Your heavy eyes slipped close, sliding a digit in your tight hole as you let out a whine. You didn’t even hear Rafe pulling off his boxers, until he tapped your cheek. “Watch me stroke my cock while you touch yourself.” He rasped out, wrapping his hand around his fat length.
Your eyes fluttered open, the view of your stepbrother with his bangs in his face, abs on display and big cock in hand made you whimper. He jerked his cock slowly, blue irises glued to you as you fingered your cunt. He was losing control, the ache running to his nuts as he wanted to fuck you hard. “Rub your clit for me.” He said, stepping closer. He was about to do real naughty shit to his stepsister.
As your fingers traveled up to rub your clit, your stomach tensed as you felt the head of his cock touch your folds. “Rafe.. what are you doing?” You squeaked out, digits slowing down on your pearl.
“Shh… keep rubbing that shit for me.” Rafe spat out, running his cock up and down your juicy folds. He knew exactly what he was about to do and just couldn’t hold himself back. His tip slid in, his eyes nearly rolling back as he felt your hole immediately grip his dick. “Oh shit.. my bad sis.” He mumbled, holding back a smile as he pushed himself in a little further.
Your mouth fell open and eyebrows furrowed as you felt his huge cock start to stretch you out. He said nothing about doing this and you didn’t even know how to react. You weren’t sure if you even wanted him to stop, you felt more full than you ever could have imagined. “What are you?… Y-you’re so big.” You jumbled out, head dizzy as he continued to cram himself inside your tight cunt.
Rafe had never felt anything more perfect, wet or tight in his entire life. He didn’t care whatsoever that his father or sisters could walk in, all he wanted to do is pound his little slut of a stepsister’s amazing fucking pussy. “I know baby, I am big and you gotta tiny fuckin’ pussy.” He grunted, burying himself all the way in. There was no way he was ever letting you out his sight again, he had you now and was gonna ruin your life. “Be a good slut and take your stepbro’s cock in your pretty hole.” His tone commanding, his hand coming to wrap around your throat to make you absolute lose it.
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bluejutdae · 5 months
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“Oh, let there be hotel complaints” | Chan x you
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warnings: nsfw, D/s dynamics, face and pussy slapping, overstimulation, mention of safewords, Daddy kink.
This is just Chan brain rot and my mind gently suggested me the image of first time inexperienced Dom Chan who wants to try some BDSM but he’s too scared to hurt you so he decides he’a going to try on himself all that he’s gonna do to you…
Title from Dinner & Diatribes by Hozier
Chan has had plenty of vanilla sex, but then you introduced him to BDSM, and especially the concepts of Doms and Subs, and something switched in him. He started reading online forums and blogs. And when the topic arose again, he clearly told you he’s interested, but he won’t do it yet. Because the thing is: despite how hard even just reading stuff about it makes him, he has no experience, and he won’t risk hurting you.
So, he does what any good Dom should do in his eyes, he tries things on himself.
One day you turn home to find his face red and a bit swollen, but when you ask about it, he just distracts you with filthy kisses. What you don’t know is that he slapped and slapped and slapped himself until he deemed he had found the right strength to use.
Another day he disappears for the whole afternoon and, when you see him in the living room, he looks flushed and a little exhausted, but giddy. Just like Changbin when he maxes out at the gym and he’s incredibly tired but proud of himself. What you don’t know is that he spent the afternoon edging himself with a vibrator on his shaft and his tip and, after hours of denying himself, he came and proceeded to overstimulate himself, because it’s only logical to pair up the two experiences, right?
What you noticed though, is that there’s a change in him. He’s more assertive with you on some days, makes sure you eat and doesn’t let you go to sleep if you haven’t removed your makeup. Pushes you to sleep more when he knows you have had a bad day at work, and every time you comply and thank him for taking care of you, he kisses a little filthier, holds you a little firmer.
It’s months later when he asks if you can try something kinkier. You’re excited and happy and you start to mentally prepare yourself to be a good teacher without forgetting this is about pleasure. But then Chan shows you exactly how deep the still water runs deep.
“You’re gonna sit there” he says and he’s so commanding yet sexy you melt instantly. “And we’re gonna have a quick talk. Nothing too extreme is going to happen today, but I need to establish some rules”. You nod in response, and he looks at you with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “You’re gonna use your pretty words, baby girl.” That’s it. Not a suggestion, not an option, a rule. Fuck, you knew he would be good at this.
“I understand.”
He’s quick with the rules: you must verbally answer, you’re gonna use the traffic light system for now, you must use the safe word if you need to, and the moment you think something’s wrong he’s gonna stop. You also must ask for what you want, not just take it.
Not too long later you’re on the bed, shirt previously discarded and clad only in your panties. And Chan is completely dressed, hovering over you. He’s been kissing you deeply and touching you just enough to make you want so much more. You’re embarrassingly wet and you’re sure you’ll have to throw away your panties. He’s holding your crossed arms at the wrists and, in doing so, he’s holding you down. You try to buck and raise your ass to relieve some of the dull aching you’re feeling in your core. “C’mon Channie, touch me.”
“But I am touching you…” he replies with a smirk on his lips. His free hand caresses your face, and he tests the gives of your lower lip with his thumb. When you suck on it, though, he takes it away and shakes his head. “What did I say?” You are lost, what happened? Did he say something?
“You’re just a cockhungry whore, uh? You can’t even wait for me to give you something, you’re so greedy you just want to take and take.”
Oh.
The realization in your face makes Chan smile. “There it is… tell me what you did wrong, and I might consider going easy on you.”
“I didn’t ask to suck your thumb-” he knows there’s something you want to add, he knows about your Daddy kink. And it turns him so fucking on, but he’s not gonna press about it. He considers your words and considers just letting it slide, but there’s flames licking at his insides.
“Too bad you didn’t ask, uh?”
Sudden, sharp pain irradiates on your left cheek and it’s less the pain and more the surprise that makes you gasp and, less than a second later, moan. Chan wants to apologize, years of conditioning making him feel guilty and mean and abusive, but he can’t deny what he feels.
He grabs your face, fingers splayed where he slapped mere seconds ago, wet thumb digging into the opposite cheek and kisses you messy and filthy, sucking your tongue in his mouth. Chan removes the last piece of clothing you have on and sits on his knees, with his thighs slightly spread apart. He holds your legs open with firm hands, one on your calf and the other clamped around your knee. He’s just… staring at your pussy. You try to squirm away and close your legs, but his eyes are suddenly on you. There’s a warning in his face that accompanies a displeased sound. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry” you blurt out trying to repair something before you do too much damage. You can feel wetness dripping down your folds, and Chan can too. “You’re so wet. Fuck, you love being on display for me…” He has never felt this. There’s a power rush, a shiver starting from his spine and moving towards opposite endings: towards his brain, making him lose words and making him want to act up, want to deliciously destroy you, making a mess of you and then put you back together; and on the other ending, traveling south towards his cock and balls. He’s been ready to cum the moment he sat you down and you agreed to do this.
“Love, are you just going to stare at me?” You ask when you grow too impatient to keep sitting still, a bit embarrassed too by his too focused staring. He shakes his head, and there is a quiet chuckle that can be heard in the room. His lips raise in a slow smirk, like he’s just been made aware of a secret, and you didn’t. And maybe he did.
Chan made plans for tonight. Plural. You told him you like not knowing everything in advance, so he planned different plans based on your responses to his actions. It was harder than organizing recording sessions. But since he saw your reactions earlier, he decides to stick to a precise plan. So, he acts in it.
Quickly and hard he delivers a slap on your inner thigh, the pain is a delicious sensation, hot and cold at the same time. A moment later the skin reddens to show Chan’s handprint and if possible, his cock gets ever harder. It twitches a little from where it’s hidden, head flushed and red, slowly but constantly leaking precum, forming a wet stain on his slacks .
“Fuck Chan!” You cry to his direction, eyes closed shut and brows knit in pleasure. You can feel heat where he hit you, and you want to press your fingers into it, wanting to feel the warmth and the pain and the pleasure. The moment you are ready to ask him for something, he delivers another slap in the same place. This time, though, Chan doesn’t let you breathe it out, doesn’t let you take your time to recover from it, no. He rakes his nails on your hot skin, watches as the skin quickly goes from red to white and to an even redder red where he scratched you. Digs his digits into your skin and revels in your gasps, feeling hot and ready to lose control, if a wind would blow in the room, he would cum in an instant. He’s ready for your next moan, your next gasp, but you’re quiet and your legs are trembling, and he’s scared he’s gone too far. He’s on the verge of apologizing, carrying you to the bathroom for a warm bath and cuddles and more apologies when he realizes he read you wrong. He didn’t give you too much, he gave you exactly what you needed, because -unbelievably so, for him- you’re coming. Clit untouched and your sopping hole twitching and throbbing around nothing, but you’re clearly coming. This is a different one, though. You’ve never been quiet while having an orgasm, but watching you with more attention calms him down, you look fine. He kisses you from your thigh to your cheekbone, stopping to nibble at your nipples, tongue lapping at your skin and sucking quick marks on you. “My pretty slut” a kiss on the nose, “you’re so greedy” a kiss on the right cheek, “your little pussy came untouched” a kiss on the forehead, “now I must give it some attention” a kiss on your chin. “Tell me your color?” He adds, tone sweeter and a hand caressing your face like you’re made of the finest glass.
“Green”. A smile appears on his face and he manhandles you to straddle his slacks covered thigh. Your wetness is seeping through the fabric, you squirm and he can see you’re embarrassed. “I told you I was gonna give it some attention. I want my baby girl to feel good.” He grabs you by your hips and forces you to move and grind your pussy on the fabric of his slacks. One of his hands sneaks into your hair and he pulls, stopping you from hiding into his neck. “No hiding. And stop hiding all your pretty sounds from me.”
The pleasure mixed with the overstimulation are overwhelming, and Chan’s new role is playing a big role in the moment and your arousal. His fingers are probably going to leave bruises in your skin, and you can’t wait to stand in front of a mirror to see them. Chan hands guide you back and forth and soon you’re clenching around nothing, “m’close Channie”, too desperate to control your movements.
“It’s okay, my baby. Just ask for it.” His hard cock is begging to be touched, still in the confines of his underwear and trousers. Yet, he has never been this hard and close to coming untouched. Your moans, the redness on your cheeks, the sweat matting your hair to your forehead and your incessant moans and cries of pleasure are making him lose his mind.
“Please Channie, can I cum?” You pant. “Let me cum, Daddy.” The last word is whispered, muffled into his shoulder but he hears it anyway. And he understands why you like it, the name giving him power, giving him a specific role, giving him the chance to give you exactly what you need.
“Then cum for Daddy.”
He watches you as cum, hands guiding your movements and his muscles flexing to give you as much pleasure as he can. He loves you like this, unabashed and free, vulnerable just for him.
But having you moaning and screaming his name is not enough. He doesn’t stop when you try to take a moment to collect yourself, he fixes his hold on your hips and forces your movements again. Back and forth, back and forth, again and again and it doesn’t matter how loud you whine, it doesn't matter your overstimulation, what matters now is making you cum another time. Anytime he pushes you towards him, he also pushes you down, setting an unforgiving pace that is torture on your sensitive clit. He’s relentless, but after just a few minutes you’re both rewarded with your legs clamping down on his thigh as you cum again. Unbelievably so, watching your second orgasm triggers his own orgasm and he moans your name loudly. He kisses you, messy and hungry, lips demanding and tongue insistent, claiming even your breath.
You’re gripping his shirt so hard, your fingers hurt. He delicately lays you down onto the bed and kisses you softly. As soon as his breathing comes back to normal, his worries come back too.
“Are you okay, baby? Did I hurt you? Was it too much? What do yo-“ you interrupt him with silly, quick kisses, trying to diminish his worries.
“I am more than okay.” A kiss. “I feel perfect.” A kiss. “You were perfect.” A kiss. “You’re always perfect, love.” A kiss. “I love you.” A kiss.
You kiss some more and he insists on showering together so he can take care of you and make sure you drink water and eat some fruit and chocolate. He tells you all about trying on himself what he did to you, and you’ve never loved him more.
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luveline · 1 year
Note
is there any way we could get badass!reader x spencer? except he’s injured this time? how does she react?
tysm ♡ cw hospital / gunshot wounds. 1.1k
"You have to let me see him." 
"It's family only," the nurse says, shrugging sympathetically. 
You grit your teeth. "That's what I'm telling you, I am his family. We've been together for four months." 
"Sorry. Unless you're blood related or his next of kin, I can't let you." 
"Spencer's next of kin is in a sanitarium in Las Vegas. I don't understand why you can't let me see him." You're trying not to shout at her, rage trembling in your aching fingers. "I understand that it's night time, and that he was admitted alone, but he was shot, he's not sick, and I can't make him worse. Please. You have to let me see him." 
When begging doesn't work, you get mean. You'd be ashamed to admit you flashed your badge if it weren't for the fact that you have no shame when it comes to Spencer. Face flushed with heat from a good twenty minutes yelling, a different nurse escorts you to Spencer's room. 
"I expect my colleagues will be arriving soon," you say. "And I expect they'll be met with less resistance." 
The nurse smiles at you, as fake as they come, but you don't deserve a real one. You don't care. Breaking rules and bending policies means nothing to you while Spencer's laying alone in a hospital bed. 
His heart monitor beeps steadily. He's sleeping, waxy face crushed sideways into a limp pillow, his stomach a lump under the sheets where he's been wrapped. He was alone when it happened —no one, BAU or otherwise, knows who did it or why. The hospital didn't know who Spencer was until he woke up after surgery and told them himself. 
And you'd been sitting at home feeling sorry for yourself (and vaguely irritated) because he didn't answer your text that morning. 
It's not hard being vulnerable with Spencer. He's your widely known soft spot, and you're unashamed. But it felt like a mistake, constantly checking to see if he'd answered your text. Good morning, I know we're supposed to see each other tomorrow but do you want to come over and watch movies tonight? Let me know had felt like I'm pathetic and in love with you and my day revolves around when you're free.
None of that matters now. In fact, it's all embarrassingly small. 
You creep up beside his bed and reach out tentatively. His hair falls out of his face with the barest of touches. He's had blood wiped poorly from his cheek, orangey streaks lining his jaw. His undereyes are dark like he hasn't eaten for days, his veins spider legs stark against his eyelids. 
You put your hand on his cheek, rubbing it lightly. "I'm sorry it took me so long," you say, leaning down to kiss his forehead.  
Spencer stirs, a groan rumbling from the centre of his chest. 
"I thought that was you," he mumbles, his fingers brushing your elbow. 
"When?" you ask. 
"You were yelling." 
Yeah, well. You need to be disruptive sometimes. "They wouldn't let me in." You're not a big crier, just seeing him like this, knowing he was alone and probably scared, it has tears pricking. "Spencer, I'm so sorry." 
"Hey." He clears his throat, your emotion starting him into wakefulness. "Hey, don't get upset. It's okay. It bounced off of me–" You groan and he laughs, though he grabs your elbow quickly after. "Ouch. Don't make me laugh." 
"I didn't say anything." You pet his face. He looks pretty even when he's in a bad way. Your chest is a pit. 
"It barely touched me. They said my feminine hips saved my life." 
"Stop trying to make me laugh," you say pleadingly. 
Spencer holds your gaze. "Stop looking so sad and I'll stop."
"Are you hurting?" you ask. You know you sound awful, a scared tone that he's never heard from you before, and you try to tamp it down as a lone tear breaks free, streaking down your cheek. "How's your pain? I can make them give you more–" 
"I know you can. I'm fine now you're here." 
You lean down to kiss the tip of his pert nose. Careful, you kiss his lips, enthused when he kisses up. "I'll take care of everything," you promise. 
The door opens behind you. You give Spencer a last squeeze and find Emily in the entrance with a bag pressed to her chest, her hair windblown, shocked with worry. 
"Spencer," she says, rushing forward to hug him. 
He's in a hospital bed and still insists on comforting her as he'd done you, arms threaded over her shoulders. "Hey. I'm fine." 
"Morgan and Garcia want to be here," she assures him, standing straight. "They're trying to keep the site clean. Spencer, what the hell happened?" 
You drag a chair to his bed and sit on his right. You don't take his hand, he doesn't offer it, but the longer his story goes, the closer you find yourself. "I didn't even realise they were following me," he's saying. Emily nods with Hotch on the phone, listening intently, repeating anything Hotch misses. 
You know you should be strong. Brave. You should be paying attention to his every word, ready to take the rains and solve the case, serve retribution against whoever it is that thought they could hurt him, but Spencer looks so tired. You can't imagine being anywhere that isn't his side right now. A blood bag fills at his side, a catheter runs under the bed, an IV line feeding pain medication and fluids into him mottled the skin on the inside of his wrist with bruise. Sometimes you have to stay put.  
Emily hugs you before she leaves. You hug back. 
"If I knew getting hurt would make you accept love from your friends, I would've done it sooner," Spencer says. 
"If you ever get hurt like this again, I'll never speak to you," you say, bringing his arm to your lips and pressing a kiss to the crook of his elbow. 
"Sorry for scaring you." 
You lay your cheek on his arm, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "That's okay. That's fine. Wasn't your fault." 
Spencer drops his chin to his chest. "Do I look bad from this angle?" 
"No. You look just as nice as you always do." Your throat burns with sincerity. You might cry again. 
Spencer nods like he's reading something else from what you've said. It's not that you'd meant to imply a double meaning, but he must see on your face how relieved you are, and how terrified you'd been. He brings his hand to your face, ignoring his cannula, to wipe the dried tears from your lashes. "You look pretty, too," he says. "Just don't cry anymore." 
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ddarker-dreams · 3 months
Note
It's ovulation week I am begging you to give us more blade crumbs
I'M A BIT LATE BUT !!!!!!!!!! better late than never, ig ??? anyway... here's some not sfw jealous blade. warning for mentions of alcohol and it's implied reader let a dude flirt with her just to fuck around and find out .
(definitely not a bad idea or anything when your bf is an immortal killing machine haha... aha...)
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despite your affection for your morose lover, you’ve harbored a secret regarding his eyes. 
those wickedly beautiful vats of crimson can occasionally be too much to bear. staring back at them, you’re reminded of the carnage he’s inflicted. that for some, this was their final sight before they bled out a similar shade. to have those same eyes weighing you down inspired apprehension. not from the belief he’d harm you — simply that he could. 
his gloved hands are cool against your feverish skin. they grope at your bare thighs, desperate and unforgiving. you’ve made his lap your throne. your panties are embarrassingly soaked against his clothed bulge, which you’re made to grind against by his inescapable grip. the friction is exhilarating, depriving your lungs of air and his mind of any coherent thought. he’s acting on base, animalistic instinct, his composure shattered beyond repair. yours isn’t any better. the night is young and he’s made an unapologetic mess of you.
faintly, you wonder if you should apologize. next comes determining what there even is to say. 
i’m sorry i’m so hungry for attention.
i’m sorry that i laughed at his jokes.
i’m sory that i leaned in too close.
“come back to me,” blade demands. his dominant hand finds your jaw, tilting it up, forcing you to stare at your reckoning. “think of no one else.” 
the meaning behind his words doesn’t immediately register. through the haze clouding your senses, a semblance of understanding pierces through. having your body isn’t enough. he wants your mind for himself as well. your most fearsome acolyte, who’d serve as its warden and worshiper. 
his eyebrows pinch together, belying his own inner conflict.
why did you choose me? 
when will you change your mind? 
how do i get you to stay? 
your lips find his. blade’s response is instantaneous, he ravishes you, his tongue likely tasting the cocktail you sipped an hour prior. a deep, guttural growl sounds from his throat. you whimper. his sounds of gratification do something to you, altering your chemistry, making your veins hot with lust. when you part, he chases after you, only stopping once he sees how desperately you need air. 
he’s painfully hard against your cunt. a wet patch has formed from where your anatomies grind together, his precum seeping through the fabric. the constant stimulation to your clit has you breathless. you’re close — teetering on the precipice. he must be able to tell, for he maneuvers you like you weigh nothing, sparing you the physical overexertion. thighs trembling, you bury your face in his neck. his scent is a mix of anise, sweat, and blood. oddly, it makes you feel safe. 
and then he urges you back to look him in the eye. 
“did you want him to do this to you?” the question comes out like a snarl, scarcely human in its timbre. 
you shake your head. 
“would you—” he clenches his teeth, as he’s nearing his own end, “—would you have let him fuck you?”
this time, when you try shaking your head, he slows down. 
“you have a voice, girl. use it.” 
you swallow thickly. 
“i wouldn’t have,” the words stumble out. “m’ sorry.” 
the atmosphere is thick and oppressive. the low light has you squinting to better discern his countenance. as always, it gives little away. in an unexpectedly tender gesture, he brushes his lips against your forehead. he then tucks the hair sticking to your sweaty skin back. your throat feels tight. before you can try to make sense of it all, he returns to his previous ministrations. still sensitive, you gasp, throwing your head back. 
the muscles in your body tighten, threatening to snap— 
“i swear,” he murmurs against your ear, “it’s you who will be the death of me.” 
—and at that, you come undone. 
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moonstruckme · 2 months
Note
hello lovely!
i recently just started to work out a bit more than i used to and i am humbled. i tried to go to the gym but it’s terrifying, so i just did a home workout from a youtube video and like i said before, humbled.
could we get james x reader doing the video with her and he’s very good at all the workouts but encouraging her.
or
could we get remus x reader doing the video together and they both suck but support eachother
Thanks for requesting <3
modern au
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 793 words
“Okay team,” the woman on your TV says peppily, “taking things at your own pace, just ease into plank position.” 
“Ease?” Remus pants incredulously. “There’s nothing easy about this.” 
You huff a laugh, but even that tiny movement is almost enough to make your abs give out and collapse you onto your mat. You try to re-solidify, feeling a dribble of sweat roll down your back. 
“Are you breathing deeply?” you tease. It’s a reiteration of what your virtual instructor has been telling you relentlessly since the video started. 
Remus takes a strained inhale. “I don’t see where she finds the time.” 
“Amazing!” your tormentor chirps. She tilts her head up to make eye contact through the screen, looking gloriously glowy with exhilaration whereas you feel slick as a dolphin. At least it’s some consolation that Remus seems as sweaty as you are, and you don’t hate that the exertion made him discard his shirt some time ago. His bare torso is a nice distraction from the ache that’s permeating your body. “Now we’re going to kick it up a notch.” 
You and Remus both make distressed grunting sounds. She still hasn’t let you out of your plank. 
“In twenty more seconds, we’re going to go into a push-up, touching our chests to the mat, then hop our feet up for a squat.” You feel your eyes widen as you watch her demonstrate. Your legs are already burning in anticipation. “Then, jump up and do a clap! Ready? You’ve got this!” 
“Oh, fuck that,” your boyfriend sighs. He lets his elbows drop out from under him, slumping onto his stomach. 
You look over at him. “What are you doing?” 
“I’m taking things at my own pace.” Remus groans as he rolls over and sits up, grabbing his water bottle from the coffee table. It’s shoved to the side to make room for your workout. “Have a break with me, dove. She seems like she can handle this part on her own.” 
You sit back on your knees, lungs and muscles aching with relief. “Pretty sure that’s not the point,” you pant, but take the water bottle he offers you anyway. You take long, gulping sips of the cold water, so desperate that you have to gasp embarrassingly for air afterwards. You wipe a drip off your chin. “You’re such an enabler.” 
“Yeah,” Remus agrees placidly. He rolls his neck to the side, and you wince when it clicks. “I’m not feeling too bad about that right now. This is inhumane.” 
You heave a sigh, leaning back on one hand and fanning yourself with the other. “You’re right. I don’t know why I’m doing this. It can’t continue.” 
He chuckles quietly. “I’m not a fan of the exercise either, but I wouldn’t say it’s all bad.” 
You turn to look at him questioningly—wasn’t he on your side with this?—and find your boyfriend’s gaze warm and appreciative, skimming lazily over the exposed stretch of skin where you’re fanning yourself. His bottom lip curls slightly. 
You give him a dubious look. “Rem, you’re endlessly sweet to me, but I know this isn’t cute. I’m, like—” you make a face “—damp.” 
“Maybe I like you a bit damp.” Remus shrugs insouciantly. “I think I’m discovering some things about myself.” 
You fold forward with a groan, stretching your back and hiding your smile near the mat. “You’re such a liar.” 
There’s an amused huff of air, and then a kiss lands softly on the back of your shoulder. “You can think that if you want,” he says. “I have some bad news for you, though. You do have to keep doing this at least a while longer.” 
You let out a whine. “Why?” 
“Because you asked me to have James take you to his gym next week, and I did. You know he won’t let you off the hook.” 
“Oh, my god,” you moan, pulling your knees up so you can rest your head on them miserably. “Why was I so hellbent on torturing myself earlier this week?” 
Remus hums sympathetically. “I think you had good intentions.” 
“Ugh, okay.” You straighten, looking back at the video and trying to re-orient yourself in what the instructor is doing. “I have to keep going if I’m going to be even remotely prepared for what James is going to subject me to. Come on, do this with me.” 
Remus makes a surprised sound of protest. “Why do I have to do it?” 
“Because you’re the one that’s friends with the sadist who’s going to torment me next week. Please, Remus.” “Fine, fine.” Remus rolls his eyes, lovesick even when he’s pretending not to be, and stands with you. “But just this once, and then I’m turning you over to Jamie.”
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theemporium · 3 months
Note
Yay for the 10k! Congrats love! a 💛 “30. grabbing onto their arm” with Nico Hischier!! Idk if I can request this as well but maybe in a haunted house setting too, if possible? 🫣
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
30. grabbing onto their arm
.
It had been Timo’s idea to go to the carnival.
There were a few days between games that the boys had free with the exception of a few practices and training sessions. And with Halloween coming up, Timo deemed it necessary that they all do something to celebrate since the actual holiday would be spent travelling to another state for a roadie. 
Hence, the boy managed to hunt down and find some carnival set up an hour or so out of the main city. 
Much to everyone’s surprise—and mostly your own—your brother had managed to plan the day out completely. He had rides and games he wanted to play. He had tournaments set up amongst you all. He had everything planned out—especially the tickets he booked in advance for the haunted house on site. 
You didn’t think anything of it at first. After all, you knew your brother well enough to know that he got excited about holidays, and Halloween was just another thing he liked to throw his everything into. 
You only started getting suspicious when he became very insistent on the way everyone stood in the line. 
“It’s just a line, we’re all getting in anyways,” you said to him, perplexed by the way he insisted on you taking a certain ticket. “What’s the big deal?”
Timo just flashed you a knowing smile. “No reason.” 
As it would turn out, there was a reason. A big reason. A reason that left you to believe that your brother thought he was some mastermind who had done the impossible because, as it would turn out, you could only go into the haunted house in pairs. 
And you were paired with Nico Hischier—the captain of the Devils and the very same person you had been embarrassingly crushing over for the last year, which Timo knew very well.
“I’m sure it won’t be that scary,” Nico assured you, seeming to confuse your nerves for fear as the two of you approached the entrance. “It’s probably only scary for kids and Jack.” 
You snorted despite yourself. “Don’t get too confident, Cap, you might be jinxing yourself.” 
He just flashed you a smile. “How bad can a carnival haunted house really be?” 
The answer is fucking teriffying. 
You didn’t know what budget this haunted house had or who had planned it, but it wasn’t the fun, kiddy haunted house you were expecting. It was creepy and freaky and you could hear the blood roaring in your ears in anticipation as you rounded each corner. 
Your final straw was when one of the actors dressed in a killer clown costume jumped out from a seemingly normal cupboard, catching you off-guard and making you grab the closest thing to you for some comfort.
Nico didn’t even blink twice at you grabbing his arm, his body almost moving on instinct as he pulled you closer towards him and further away from the ‘threat’. You hadn’t even realised until the two of you scurried to the next section of the haunted house and you realised your face was practically squished against his bicep with his hand on the back of your head.
“Fuck,” you murmured, your heart racing in your chest. “I am going to kill Timo.”
Nico laughed, his hand dropping to gently cover one of your own. “He’s probably screaming himself.” 
“No wonder,” you grumbled. “This place is freaky.”
“I’ll protect you,” Nico murmured, his voice oddly sincere for a haunted house. 
But you could only smile in response. 
And you would never admit it to Timo because he would be far too smug but the haunted house was a pivotal moment in your relationship with the Devils captain, especially when you two walked out with you still wrapped around his arm and Nico showing no signs of wanting to let you go for the rest of the night.
.
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baylz · 22 days
Text
CHAPTER ONE: sneaking out
main masterlist | now playing: See You Later, I'm Gone by Robert Lester Folsom
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present time
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Sneaking out through the bathroom window wasn’t uncommon. She had done this on more occasions than she can count whenever things just weren’t going so great. Bad dates, her high school reunion, family gatherings, and now she was currently shimmering through a window to avoid her ex boyfriend and best friend.
It was ungraceful, to say the least. Her dress had gotten ripped in the process and y/n silently prayed that she could fix it later. Trudding back to her car, she stopped dead in her tracks to see that it was getting hooked to the back of a tow truck.
oh, fuck.
“Hey!” She sprinted and attempted to get the attention of the large vehicle. The driver came to a stop and rolled down his window, a cigar in his mouth and looked every bit of uninterested in what she had to say.
“Listen pretty lady, your clown car was parked infront of a fire hydrant.”
“Cl-clown car?” She spuddered, completely taken aback. “It’s a Volkswagen Beetle.”
“Yeah, well you can come pick up your beetle tomorrow at the shop.” Y/n cautiously looked around the dark street and back to the trucker. It was the middle of autumn and she had just become aware of the goosebumps forming on her exposed legs. A gust of wind blew passed her and she shivered from the contact.
“Well—” She took another look at her surroundings. There weren’t many people around this part of the city which was a bad sign. Walking home in an empty area like this she would surely get grabbed or followed. Shooting a helpless look at the man she asks, “How am I suppose to get home?”
“You can’t call nobody?” Oh, right.
She embarrassingly pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. Yamaguchi was a no-go since his car wasn’t working right now and Tsukishima always has his phone on vibrate. Fucking asshole. The only person left was…”Kuroo.” She could feel the life being sucked out of her as her thumb hovered over the call button. The thought of doing the walk of shame back to the party didn’t seem so bad compared to hitching a ride with her pesky boss.
Unfortunately, her prayers were heard because the screen turned black before she even got the chance to call him. She mentally cursed herself.
The trucker grew impatient at this point, putting the vehicle in drive and moving forward. Y/n pleaded with him to at least let her hitch a ride but he stubbornly refused. And then, he was gone.
Y/n was slowly making her way down the sidewalk, ocassionally looking behind her. She wearily watched each car that rolled passed her and made sure to keep a safe distance between her and the street. She continued this for a good minute before she noticed a car slowly trailing behind her. Her pace sped up and the car followed suit. She began to panic now. Y/n didn't know whether to run or act as if she didn't see them. It wasn't until the car began getting closer that she bolted.
The car chased after her. Y/n made beeline for a nearby alleyway, hoping the lose the stalker. She ducked behind a dumpster and waited, heels in each hand, and ready to attack. A car had stopped at that moment and the sound of a car door shutting caused her to be on high alert.
They’re coming.
She listened patiently as the footsteps drew closer. Her grip tightened, hands trembling with fear. 
Tut!
Closer.
Tut!
Closer.
Tut!
NOW!
“Hello, is anyone there—OW!” Y/n stood from her hiding spot and threw her pumps at the perpetrator. He stumbled back, broken glasses falling to the ground. “Fuck, Y/n.” The stranger grumbled in pain.
“Who are you? How do you know my name?” She probed, pointing her other heel at the fallen man. She did her best to be intimidating but the not subtle quiver in her voice betrayed her.
He felt around for his lost frames before staggering to his feet, putting them back to where they belonged and faced her.
He held his hands up in surrender. “It’s me. Keiji.”
"O-oh." Surprised but also relieved, she dropped her shoe and let out a ragged breath. She didn't know how long she had been holding it in. Her legs almost gave out from the adrenaline wearing away, leaving her a shaking mess. Akaashi attempted to reach out and help but Y/n braced herself on the brick wall instead.
Keiji couldn’t do much except collect her scattered shoes from the dirty cement. Akaashi was aware that he had frightened her so he didn’t dare move an inch when he asked, “How about I take you home, hm?”
The car ride was quiet and Y/n stared out the window at the passing buildings. New York was always so much prettier at night. Despite its downsides, the city was just more lively and active once the sun had set. Everyone is constantly on the move and you never feel alone because there was always someone walking right along side you whether they were going to the same destination or not.
Keiji would occassionally glance at the brunette next to him, trying to think of what to say first. I mean, what could he say? How are you? Sorry for scaring you? He didn’t see anything good coming out of those. She wouldn’t even look at him so he wasn’t even sure if she wanted to talk to begin with. Akaashi braced himself, clearing his throat and straightening his back. He didn’t even get a chance to get a word in before you said, “Stop here.”
Akaashi parked infront of a small duplex. “Thanks for the ride and sorry about your glasses.” Y/n unbuckled her seatbelt, not even looking at him once. He searched for what to say as a response, but it was too late because she had already exited the car and was making her way towards the front door. He watched as y/n entered the house and leaned his head back against the seat once she was gone. "dammit."
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next chapter
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wilbursprincess · 7 months
Note
Okay so one, love your writing literally sm
Two, imagine being best friends with simpbur and heading to his place after a shitty date and he’s all like “hey, hey, it’s okay.. I can take care of you”
And yk.. it can lead to whatever!
- 💤 anon(?)
“I Can Take Care Of You”
Simpbur x Female Reader
Warnings: Really soft fluffy sex, Soft/ServiceDom!Simpbur
Thank you so much, new 💤anon! I’m a sucker for the ‘best friend helps you after a bad date/breakup’ trope, so thank you for fulfilling my little writer heart <3
Fic below cut!
“What’s wrong?” Wilbur says, frantically running up to me. “What happened?”
I sigh, rubbing my hands over my bare arms from the night chill. “That’s the last time I accept a ride from a guy I’m going on a first date with.”
“Who am I beating up?” He asks, brows knitting in concern as he wraps his jacket around my shoulders. “Did he do anything?”
Shaking my head, I let Wilbur lead me to his car, letting a sigh of relief as he buckles me into the front seat and I hear the front doors lock. “Tried to get me to go home with him, and doesn’t like being told no. Got out before he tried anything, but yikes.”
He cranks the heat, a wave of warmth washing over me as I snuggle into his jacket. “That bastard,” he sighs. “Thank you for calling me.”
“You’ve always been there for me,” I murmur affectionately, resting my head on Wilbur’s shoulder and breathing in his comforting scent, the same cologne and shampoo he’s used since I’ve known him. “Did I interrupt your evening?”
Snorting, Wilbur puts a loose arm around my shoulders. “Oh, definitely. A very exciting evening of shitty TV movies and frozen pizza. Care to join me, now that your plans have, uh, changed?”
“Absolutely,” I nod. “Mind lending me some of your clothes when we get to yours?”
“No problem,” he replies, backing out of the parking spot. “Might even dig some ice cream out of the freezer, too.”
“His number is blocked?” Wilbur asks as we head up the staircase to his apartment.
“Blocked it while planning my escape,” I laugh, tugging off my heels and carrying them up with me. “God, why did I wear heels on a date with a guy who’s barely 5 foot tall?”
Giggling, Wilbur unlocks his door. “He’s not worth your heels, princess.” He’s always called me princess, and recently, it had started sending heat between my thighs each time his British accent cooed it at me. “Right, let’s get you changed, and I just bought one of those veggie pizzas you like, want me to throw that in the oven?”
“Oh, absolutely,” I groan. “We didn’t even get to appetizers before I had to run, and I’m running off a vodka soda.”
He preheats the oven, yanking open the cupboard and tossing me my favorite crisps. “Go grab one of my hoodies and some sweats from my room, and I’ll get this ready for us, ok?”
Nodding, I shove a handful of crisps in my mouth on the way to his room, opening the door and sighing at the familiar sight. I’d often teased Wilbur for being a slob, his room covered in clothes and empty mugs, but right now, there was nothing more I wanted to see.
I tug off my dress, replacing it with one of his massive hoodies and an even baggier pair of sweatpants, his softest socks covering my feet. In his bathroom, I use his face wash to wash off my makeup, patting on some lotion and grabbing a stray rubber band to wrap my hair in a bun.
“There we go,” Wilbur says, smiling as I walk back in, munching on the crisps. “That’s the girl I’m more used to.”
I look down at my shapeless clothes, messy hair, and crisp crumbs stick to my lips. “What do you mean?”
“As much as you look amazing in a dress and heels, I love seeing the real you shine through. Wearing my clothes, using a rubber band as a hair tie.”
I’m not even sure how to respond to such a compliment, so I don’t. I just accept a can of soda and an outstretched arm, snuggling into his chest as he tosses a blanket over our laps. “Pizza’s in the oven, it won’t be too long,” he murmurs. “You feeling ok after your night?”
Embarrassingly, tears bubble in the corner of my eyes, and I try and sniff them back before Wilbur sees, but he wipes them away before I can turn away. “What’s with the tears?” he whispers, pulling me into his lap.
“I’m just sick of shitty dates with shitty guys,” I admit, wiping my eyes on his tshirt. “All I want is someone who knows me inside and out, loves me for who I am, and is good in bed. No, scratch that, someone who’s mediocre in bed, since apparently my standards are too high.”
Surprisingly, Wilbur brushes his lips against my cheek. “Hey, hey, it’s ok. I can take care of you.”
“W-what do you mean?” I whisper, heart pounding, hoping I didn’t mishear him.
“I know you sing in the shower, how you like the burnt bits on pizza, and that you feed all the stray cats behind your apartment because you feel bad they have to sleep in the rain,” he murmurs, eyes crinkling in amusement. “I’ve held your hair back while you’re throwing up in my bathroom after getting wine-drunk, I know the brand of tampons you like, and where you hide your vibrator.”
“You know where I hide my-?”
Wilbur presses a finger onto my lips. “Shush. I’m not done. That’s two out of three of your standards I’ve knocked out of the park.”
“What about the last one?” I challenge, face in a red flush just from the thought.
“Do you want me to tell you, or show you?” He smirks, hand fluttering on my thigh.
“Show me.”
From how flirty his words had been, I was expecting his lips to crash unceremoniously into mine, but that wasn’t the case. Wilbur was soft, gentle, and sweet, running his tongue across my lower lip before sliding it into the kiss. One of his hands rubs at the nape of my neck, the other stroking the curve of my waist under the hoodie, and I absolutely melt into his touch.
“You taste even better than I imagined,” he sighs, barely pulling back enough to get the words out. “Mmm.”
I giggle, nibbling on his lower lip. “I didn’t know you were such a good kisser.”
“I’m good at a lot of things,” Wilbur whispers in my ear, leaving a hickey just behind my ear. “You want me to show you some, baby?”
“Please,” I whine, tugging on the waistband off his sweats to try and free the growing bulge. “Show me, Wilbur.”
“Patience, sweetheart,” he chides, sliding two fingers into the band of my sweatpants. “Can I take these off?”
I nod, reaching down for my hem of his hoodie as he tugs off my sweats. “How long have you wanted to do this for?”
“Longer than I’d like to admit,” he says. “But I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
I smile. “Same here.”
We both stare at each other in the dim light, him panting over my almost-naked body.
“Please let me ruin it now,” he groans, rubbing himself between my thighs.
I grind back, both of us letting out high pitched whines. “Ask me that after I see how good that dick is.”
Wilbur pulls back for a moment, tugging down the front of his pants, the leaking length springing up and hitting his lower stomach.
“Of course you have a fucking huge dick,” I groan, making him snort. “My best friend of all these years has somehow managed to hide that from me.”
He leans down, pressing his shaft onto the wet spot on my panties. “And I can assure you that it feels even better.”
I tug my panties down my legs. “That’s two things you have to prove tonight, Wilbur. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Do you want me to use a condom?” Wilbur asks, brows knitted in concern.
I shake my head. “I’m on birth control, and we all know neither of us have slept with anyone else in ages.”
“Sounds good to me,” he says softly, working me open with his fingers. “Tell me if I’m going too fast, it hurts, you’re uncomfortable, or-“
Kissing his forehead, I tilt Wilbur’s head back to look him in the eye. “Wilbur. You’re worrying.”
“How did you know I was worrying?”
“Your forehead always crinkles when you worry,” I say. “Relax. I promise. We both want this.”
He sighs. “I just want to make this perfect for you. You deserve it. You deserve the world.”
“You’re already making it perfect,” I reply, stroking my hand down his bare back. “Just be gentle, ok?”
“Anything,” he breathes. “For you.”
Wilbur pushes himself inside me gently, so gently, kissing me all over my face as I adjust to the feeling. One hand squeezes my hip, the other stroking the bare skin at my waist.
“I’m so full,” I groan out, wrapping my legs around Wilbur’s waist to tug him deeper. “Oh, God.”
He smiles, licking a stripe up my neck as we start to move together, finding a smooth, rocking rhythm.
“Mmm, we feel so good together, princess,” he praises, hooking one of my legs over his shoulders to hit me even harder. “You’re so wet.”
I’m surprised he’s touching me in all the right places, since from my past experiences, most guys aren’t exactly adept. But Wilbur was. Incredibly, in fact, not just shoving my own pleasure aside to get himself off.
Kisses turn into nibbles, nibbles turn into bites, and bites turn into Wilbur fully sinking his teeth into my lower lip, muffling the moan that threatens to spill out. His hand slides from my waist to my chin, tilting my face into our slightly sloppy kiss.
“Still ok?” He whispers, pulling back for a moment to gaze in my eyes. “I’m not hurting you?”
I shake my head, pecking him on the mouth. “Quite the opposite. You’re quite adept with that cock of yours.”
Laughing, Wilbur nibbles another hickey onto my neck. “I try my best, love.”
We stop talking for awhile after that, preferring to let our bodies do the talking.
“Oh, Wilbur, I’m close,” I cry out, knees shaking, nails digging into his back. I’m impressed how long we’ve both been lasting, but I’m not sure either of us can keep going forever. “Fuck.”
Wilbur groans, biting his lip with the effort to keep going for me. “Where… where can I cum?” He pants.
“Inside… please,” I manage to reply, almost screaming out as he reaches up and presses on my clit. I melt into the couch, tightening around him as my high slams into me, Wilbur right behind me a few seconds later, finishing deep inside me with a loud moan.
We’re both silent, panting in the aftermath, only being interrupted by the sudden beep of the oven timer.
“Pizza’s ready,” Wilbur deadpans, making me crack up. “Hungry?”
“Starved,” I sigh. “Cardio will do that to you.”
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yxngbxkkie · 1 year
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ramen in the cold room (h.h)
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okay 😭 this is the third time i've written this 😭 tumblr hates me. the sauna video was so cute, and i'm falling deeply into hyune's arms 🥹 i hope you all enjoy this cute little thing 🥰
feedback is greatly appreciated 💓
~
You stand on your tiptoes, resting your chin against your boyfriend's shoulders. "What are you getting?" You ask him quietly, tilting your head to look up at him.
"Well, angel, I thought we could get some ramen and eat it in the cold room," Hyunjin mentions to you nonchalantly.
"Excuse me?" You ask, your eyes widening at his suggestion as you move your body so you're standing beside him. "You want to eat in the cold room? Why?"
Hyunjin laughs embarrassingly, turning his head to look down at you. "I just think it'd be romantic, don't you?" He mutters sweetly.
"It's an idea for sure," you cry a bit while glancing towards said room. You pout your lips as your eyes meet his again. "If I get too cold, can I sit on your lap?"
The black-haired beauty laughs but nods his head in agreement. The two of you decided to go to the nearest sauna place. Hyunjin's been really busy with the other members, and his muscles are starting to ache more and more. You wanted to spend time with him, so you suggested this place, stating that it'd be a cute date.
After he orders the two bowls of ramen, you stand behind him off to the side, tying his hair up in low pigtails. You giggle at how cute he looks and gently massage the back of his head.
Hyunjin hums, leaning into your massaging. One of his arms reaches back to you, feeling his fingers gliding along your hip. "I love you, you know," he sighs before turning his head to look at you.
"I love you too, Hyune," you grin widely, standing on your toes to kiss his lips.
The staff member comes back with your food, handing one to each of you. You both thank the gentlemen before making your way into the ice room.
"You go first," you giggle, stepping aside so Hyunjin can step forward.
"Don't be a baby," he jokes with you, sticking his tongue out. You shake your head as he steps into the glass box. "It's not too bad."
You groan once more before making your way inside. A shiver runs down your spine as you sit down beside him, your thighs touching. "It's a little chilly," you whisper loud enough for him to hear.
Hyunjin watches you as you begin to eat the steaming noodles. He subconsciously mixes his ramen together as he stares, not being able to take his eyes off of you.
You scrunch your face as you shove the noodles past your lips, humming contents at the taste. You quickly take in another batch when you feel Hyunjin's eyes on you. You're in the middle of chewing when you glance up at him.
He smiles at your full cheeks, noodles hanging past your lips as you stare at him so innocently. "You're breathtaking," he tells you, his dark eyes full of love for you.
You can feel the tips of your ears getting warmer. You hope that they're already red from the cold. The two of you have been together for almost a year, and you've never seen him look so… smitten.
"I'm just eating noodles?" You question him, shoving him to the side with your arm.
Hyunjin chuckles and buries his face into your neck. "You're breathtaking twenty-four seven, angel," he kisses your skin.
"Baby," you whine, looking down at his ramen, which is currently getting cold. "Eat first. You can praise me afterward."
You go back to eating your noodles, glancing towards Hyunjin every few seconds. You both eat in silence. The only sound echoing off the walls is your slurping.
"Thank you for doing this with me," Hyunjin mentions suddenly, causing your gaze to move to him again. He finished his bowl and set it down on the bench beside him. "I can see you shivering."
"I'd do anything for you, Hyune," you confess to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. "I want to fulfill all of your romantic dreams."
He hums, dipping down to kiss the crown of your head. "I am so in love with you," Hyunjin confesses as well, lacing his fingers with yours. "There's nobody better than you, angel."
"Guess you're stuck with me then."
Hyunjin grins ear to ear as you tilt your head up. "I am two hundred percent okay with that," he whispers before kissing your lips.
~
tagging: @thewxntersoldier @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @foxinnie8 @moon0fthenight
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replaytech · 4 months
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okay just imagine hunter teaching you how to throw knives😫🤝
tbb hunter x female!reader (warnings: use of a weapon)
-
You were grateful that hunter hasn’t noticed you staring at him yet.
You had been watching him for a few minutes. You couldn’t help it. The sight of him throwing his knives and hitting the targets perfectly was… well, to be blunt, hot.
He throws another knife and hits the dot that he had drawn earlier, “You see something you like?”
His back is still turned, but you know that he’s talking to you, “I hate it when your super tingle snitches on me.”
He lets out a half laugh, half scoff and looks at you, “My super tingle?”
You give him a serious nod, “Yes.”
He turns away from you to grab his blades from the trees, “Are you just gonna stand there or let me teach you how to throw?”
You snort, “Thanks, but I’m more of a blaster girl.”
Hunter flips the knife in his hand, “What? Afraid you’ll be bad at it in front of me?”
You roll your eyes, “Oh please, I could do this easily.”
He continues walking towards you with a small smirk plastered on his face, “And you say i’m the one with an ego problem.”
You hold your hand out, “Let me see one”, you gesture to the blades.
He starts to give you one but retracts his hand, “Not so fast.”
You put your hands on your hips, “Oh here we go.”
“Your patience and positive attitude isn’t like any i’ve ever seen.”
You laugh and playfully hit his shoulder, “Shut up, hunter.”
He chuckles and goes to stand behind you, “Here, show me how you hold it before you throw”, he gives you a knife.
As you hold the weapon, you’re hyper aware of hunters presence behind you. He’s so close that you can practically feel his armor on your back.
His hands go in front of you to adjust your form. All you can do is watch what he’s doing.
Hunter speaks low next to your ear, “There you go, hold it just like that.”
He moves his left arm to your shoulder and keeps his right on your throwing arm, mimicking the throwing motions, “Make sure not to release too early or too late. Too early will make the throw too high and too late will make it hit the ground”, he says with his armor fully touching your back.
You swallow and nod, embarrassingly affected by how close he is, “Got it.”
You feel hunters lips come close to your ear, “What, princess? Am I making you nervous?”
You scoff and try to sound as confident as you can, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Unfortunately, he steps away from you, “Try it by yourself.”
You try to remember everything he told you as you hurl the knife at the tree, missing the target by about a foot.
“Not bad, for an amateur anyway.”
You scoff, “Hunter isn’t impressed with me, whatever will I do?”, you deadpan.
He walks towards you and looks down at you, “Don’t tell me you missed on purpose so I would help you again.”
You nod, “Yep. My heart longs for your sweaty glove hand to rub all over my forearm again.”
“They aren’t that sweaty.”
“It feels like you dipped both of my arms in the river.”
He laughs softly and looks you in the eye, “Well maybe I want to help you again.”
You roll your eyes playfully, “I guess.”
“Woah now, don’t sound too excited.”
You laugh as he moves behind you to help again, “Last time you relied too much on your wrist. Use your arm instead, like this”, he moves your arm with his.
He lets go of you so you can try again on your own. This time, you actually hit the target.
“Atta girl.”
You bite your lip to hide your smile, “Are you intimidated? I might best you in our next mission.”
Hunter laughs, “I’ll have to keep having these sessions with you if you want those results.”
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luxekook · 2 years
Text
mine | hjs
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❯ pairing: boyfriend!joshua x reader
❯ genre: established relationship, smut, fluff, slight crack
❯ summary: your boyfriend is dead-set on distracting you from studying. it's really too bad for your statistics grade that you can never really turn away his affections.
❯ word count: 1.7k
❯ word count: 18+; cursing; dirty talk; basically pwp; reader has breasts and a vagina and uses she/her pronouns; switchy vibes; joshua is a menace; mention of breeding; joshua calls reader a 'good little slut' uwu; one taylor swift reference; smut (fingering, unprotected sex [wrap it folks!], creampie)
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He’s staring at you again. You can feel his gaze burning into the spot where your skirt ends and your bare thighs begin. You cross your legs, hoping to jar him out of whatever trance he’s in; yet, the stare just seems to intensify.
“Joshua,” you sigh, tucking your bookmark into the pages of your thick textbook before looking at him. “We’re supposed to be studying.”
“I am studying,” your boyfriend replies, a smirk curving across his face. “I’m studying you.”
“Is that supposed to be a pick-up line?” You groan, tossing one of your throw pillows in his direction. Of course, Joshua just snatches it right out of the air, his smirk still aimed your way.
“Depends,” his grin widens, “Is it working?”
“No!” You cry, opening your textbook back up, “And if I fail this statistics final, it’s going to be your fault for distracting me, Hong.”
“So I’m distracting?” Joshua stands from his slouched position in your desk chair and moves closer to where you're sitting on your bed. “What’s distracting about me, baby? The way I look at you? Or maybe it's the way I look, hmm? I know you like this top on me.”
He’s crawling across the bed towards you like the demon that he is. And so you open your mouth and say, “Joshua, do I need to get you exorcized? Get out of my bed.”
“That’s not what you said last night,” he mumbles, now close enough to touch. His hand slides up your arm to cup your neck, bringing your head closer to his. “Come on, baby, you need a break.”
Your eyes narrow, “Me? Sounds to me like it's you that's needy, Shua.”
“Fine,” he mumbles, eyes firmly locked on your mouth, “It’s me. Hi, I’m the problem. It’s me.”
“You’re an idiot,” you laugh, “I love you.”
“I love you more,” Joshua smiles, his eyes crinkling up in that way you just adore. You can’t help but to kiss him. 
You feel his smile against your lips, and you huff out a laugh. “Shut up,” you mumble, pulling back slightly.
“I didn’t say anything,” he mumbles back, still looking too smug about the turn of events. Just for that, you pull farther away and grab your textbook again.
“Baaabe,” Joshua whines, plucking the book from your grasp and tossing it to the other side of the bed. You lunge for it, completely forgetting that you’d lunged right over your boyfriend who now has you firmly in his lap.
“You little shit,” you grumble, knowing there is no hope for you. Joshua’s arms are wrapped around you tightly, his face pressed to the crook of your neck. And you can still feel that goddamn smirk.
“I’d say sorry, but I’m so not sorry,” he grins outright before nipping at the thin skin under your ear.
“Fuck, Shua,” you moan, squirming in his lap, “I really do need to study.” Your boyfriend continues to nibble and kiss your neck. You feel him growing harder underneath you as your hips shift indecisively between grinding down and trying to get away.
“Five minutes,” he murmurs, hands falling to your hips to press you harder against his lap.
“I feel like there’s a joke to be made here,” you reply and then squeak embarrassingly as Joshua’s hand spanks your ass.
“I meant five minutes to make you cum, baby,” Joshua’s dark eyes are locked on yours, “Even if you gave me all night, I still wouldn’t be done with half the things I want to do to you.”
How much do you need statistics again?
“T-tomorrow, Shua,” you gasp, as his clothed cock pushes up against the seam of your panties. The delicious pressure makes you roll your hips faster, craving more of that friction. “Fuck me all day tomorrow after my final. Fuck me until I can’t walk, Joshua. I want that so bad.”
“Fuck me,” Joshua surges forward, kissing you hard. “The things you say with that mouth, baby.” One of his hands slides under your skirt, making its way under your lace panties.
“Touch me, Shua,” you beg, beyond caring at this point, “Please.”
“Hmmm,” he suddenly flips you over on all fours, sliding your panties to the side, “What’s this? Yeah, just as I thought. You’re soaked for me, baby.”
His finger slides into your pussy, slipping right inside given how wet you are. Joshua curses, “Goddamn, my baby wants it so bad, doesn’t she? Dripping everywhere like a good little slut.”
“Harder,” you moan, pushing your hips back onto his finger and urging him to give you more. You need more.
The sting on your ass from his slap is everything. You drop to your elbows, arching your ass higher. “More, Shua, please.”
“My greedy girl.” You can practically hear the grin in his words, but that doesn’t matter as soon as you feel him give you exactly what you ask for. Another finger enters your pussy, fucking you. His thumb swipes against your clit, and you gasp at the jolt of pleasure that runs through you.
“Mmm, you liked that, didn’t you?” Joshua groans behind you, “Think you can take another one? I think you can.”
“Yes, Shua, give it to me,” you arch your back higher, shimmying your hips in his face. He laughs and gives you the spank you clearly were asking for.
Three of his fingers fuck you now, pushing in and out of you. The sounds your pussy makes are obscene, and the gush of liquid around Shua’s fingers is clearly driving him insane as you feel him begin to pant behind you.
“Baby,” he groans, “Why are you so fucking wet? Wanna fuck you so bad, please. Let me give you my cock, (y/n). Let me fuck you til you pass out.”
“Yes,” you cry, “Fuck me, Shua. Now!” All thoughts have clearly left your brain. And it really doesn’t matter because the second you feel Joshua’s cock at the entrance of your pussy you take the reins.
“No,” you turn, pushing Joshua back into the pillows of your bed, “Wanna ride you.”
“Fuck, baby,” he grins up at you, “Please do.”
You climb on top of him and slowly lower yourself down onto his cock. You feel your wetness dripping onto him, making his cock slippery. You rock yourself over him, feeling his cock slide between your folds, but never taking him inside.
“(Y/n), baby,” Joshua groans, his head is thrown back, “You’re killing me.”
“Oh,” you giggle, “Sorry, daddy.”
His eyes meet yours immediately, “Don’t start that unless you can finish it, baby.”
Oop. You take the tip of his cock inside you.
“Shit,” he moans, easily distracted. “Keep going, baby, please.” 
You take him deeper, inch by inch, at an agonizingly slow pace that has you both panting by the time you're bottomed out. You feel so full, so fucking full like this.
“Love this,” you mumble, squeezing him tighter inside you.
“Fuck,” Joshua moans, his cock twitching inside you, “Don’t do that unless you want me to fucking breed you right now, baby.”
You squeeze him again. Because duh.
You're under him before you can even blink, his hips slamming into yours at a brutal pace. “What did I just say?” Joshua’s forehead pushes against yours, “You never listen, do you, baby? Or is this what you wanted?”
“Is it a crime to want your cum, Shua?” you bite back, your hips meeting each of his thrusts with equal vigor. 
“It’s what you wanted,” Joshua smirks, “Baby girl wants my cum? Well then that’s what she’ll get.” 
His cock slams into you over and over, hitting that spot inside you just right. You’re a moaning mess under him, barely able to breathe. “Feels so good, Shua.” 
“Shit, yeah it does, baby,” Joshua’s hands grip your hips, his lips coming down on yours. You kiss him back with equal vigor, feeling the beginnings of your orgasm sweep up your body. And you can tell Joshua knows it, too. “Yeah, you gonna cum on my cock, baby? Gonna make me lose my mind over how good you grip me? Gonna take my cum from me?”
“Y-yes,” you cry, squeezing down on him and trying to trap him inside. You want his cum inside you more than you need anything else right now. Joshua keeps fucking into you, but not unaffected by the grip you have around him.
“God, your evil fucking pussy,” he groans, “I love it. Gonna make me cum, baby, but not before you.” His hand slides down to play with your clit and his gentle touch mixed with his deep thrusts push you right over the edge.
You scream his name as you come hard around him, muscles spasming around his cock as it continues fucking into you. It’s almost too much and not enough all at once. “Don’t stop, Shua, want your cum,” you cry, arching your back and grinding into him.
“F-fuck,” he groans, hips stuttering as he speeds up further still, “Gonna fill up at that pretty little pussy, (y/n). Gonna make you stuffed full of me.”
“Thought my pussy was evil,” you gasp out, hands dragging down his back to pull him closer.
“It’s heaven and hell, sweetheart,” Joshua gasps, dropping his head to your neck. “Now, take my fucking cum.”
You feel him come with a moan. His cum shoots deep inside you, so warm and so much. You squeeze him tight, milking every last drop you can get and holding it there. 
He’s a wreck above you, cock still pushing in and out of you trying to push the cum in deeper. Joshua’s hair sticks to his forehead with sweat as his eyes squeeze shut. His neck strains with effort until he finally collapses on top of you, cock still firmly nestled inside your slick pussy.
“Damn, baby, I could write songs about that pussy,” he rasps, hands coming around your waist. He snuggles into your chest, a content smile crossing his face. 
“What would you name it? ‘Pretty Evil Pussy’?” you laugh, causing him to twitch inside you. 
“Nah,” he says, his smile widening against your skin, “I’d call it ‘Mine’.”
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an: hope y'all enjoyed the joshua that currently haunts my dreams (pray 4 me)
© luxekook do not repost, edit or translate as protected under this license
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oinkinpigprince · 4 months
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Charlie and/or Pim x ticklish!reader? Or ticklish Charlie/Pim x reader? (Or both? :))) )
I am severely ticklish, but I also get very very aggressive. Like legit violent
Tickling head canons for Charlie and Pim
Charlie dompler
Charlie does it to be a dick ngl, you two are sitting down and he just reaches over and wiggles his fingers on your side and you jump and gravel on the floor like a fish
He laughs every time, it’s his favorite thing. Watching you freak your shit after he just brushed your neck never fails to put a evil smile on his face
It is a rare thing though, which makes it worse. You forget and feel completely safe, just walking down the street with him and then he brushes your ribs and you are totaled
Ya know, Charlie just doesn’t strike ya as a person who would be ticklish ngl. Like his sides, feet, neck, nothing. Try as you might nothing. You’ve tried to get him back, trying anything to take revenge, nothing 😔😔
That was until one day you accidentally brushed his knee cap and he jumps. You two just stare at each other, bewildered and amused.
Oh my god, you made him regret ever even meeting you. At any given moment you’ll tickle his knees like a silly little critter, you abuse this fact. Sometimes when you go to reach he’ll jerk his knees away from you
It becomes an all out war at home, you two wrestling on the floor trying to get the other, it’s a lot of screaming and giggling. Your neighbors think you two are, interesting to say the least
When you two play competitive videogames like smash bros or racing games, he’s low key a sore looser. So he’ll tickle your neck to distract you
Pim pimling
He loves being cutely playful with you. Pim will tickle your sides just to hear you giggle, he thinks it’s precious.
Does it very lightly, like brushing his fingers on your side and watching you try and wiggle away from him, stifling laughter makes him feel giddy.
Pim does it frequently at home, maybe when you two are with friends and he’s bored. Sitting on the couch watching a movie and he’ll blow on your neck and giggle as you jump around
When you two are cuddling though he accidentally brushes his hands against your side which makes you just. He feels so bad but it’s also really funny
Pims very ticklish, like, embarrassingly so. He’ll flail his arms every time you even graze his sides and if you have him in your grasp, Pim will wheeze laugh and start crying
He’s screaming uncle, uncle but he’s tickled you one too many times. Revenge must be had. Pim has tiny arms so he can’t exactly get you back as easily, it’s fun for him to try!
Very wiggly, when you get him. He’ll fall to the floor like a fish, it’s really cute. You feel a little evil looking at his poor face as you mercilessly tickle him, but it’s quickly forgotten when you remember all the times he’s gotten you
Pim will also blow raspberries on your tummy, not rlly tickling it’s just rlly cute. You giggle and poke his head, it’s really cute couple moments that he enjoys with you.
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