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#idk if that's the intention behind it but that's how it comes off to me
rosicheeks · 2 months
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I think I was in love with you.
lol no you weren’t
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sentoooo · 4 months
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ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅ ꜱᴇx? ⨟ ʜꜱʀ ᴍᴇɴ
✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader
✩ inspo: im feeling sick in the head and also Fuck Me by Vernon Jane
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✧ a/n: uhhmmmm i deserve to be a little freaky and weird and perverse ALSO IDK WHY THE X LOOKS LIKE THAT AND ITS ANNOYING ME TOO. LETS IGNORE IT, TOGETHER
🗒 cw: SMUT, gn! afab reader (for the bad bitches with uteruses), period sex (spoiler: theyre ALL into it.), fingering, face sitting, use of toys, dry humping (?), thigh riding, cunnilingus, thigh job, mutual masturbation, cowgirl/boy position, mating press, not proofread
✎ wc: 4.1k
MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY
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⎯ Aventurine
AVENTURINE is all for it, if it means it’ll make you feel better. He prefers to use toys, if anything. He doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty, but he’s more worried about hurting you. So he’s got a set of vibrators specifically that he likes to use while you’re on your period. And if you ask, he’ll probably buy a couple new ones, as well.
You do your best to stay still underneath Aventurine, eyes shut tight as you buck your hips up against the wand between your legs. Aventurine looks down smugly at you, mirth glimmering in those beautiful eyes of his. The beneath your stomach had long since turned into a delicious feeling of wholeness and warmth, and you couldn’t help but chase after it. Aventurine, for once, cannot bring himself to tease about how desperate you are to cum.
He had amped up the wand to its max intensity, just to make sure you had felt it through your clothes. Not that you hadn’t, you were practically pushing your pussy up against it the minute he had brought out the vibrator, doing anything to get yourself off. You feel the pleasure mounting all too quickly, yet chase after it nonetheless. You grab Aventurine’s wrist and whined, legs tensing and closing as if to ward off the vibrator. And like that, the pressure releases, giving way to a blissful feeling, the last of your cramps fading away so… easily.
“That good, huh?” Aventurine chides, a sultry grin plastered on his features as he lowers the intensity of the vibrator, yet still presses it up against your clothed clit to let you ride out your high. You don’t respond, basking in the sensation (and the fact that your cramps are gone).
⎯ Dr. Ratio
VERITAS may act hesitant when you bring up the idea, but he doesn’t say no. He’s more worried about how he should go about it than anything, and while it isn’t unfamiliar territory to him, he’s just… unsure of himself. Ultimately, he settles on toys, normally vibes, but dildos will do as well.
It was rather late by the time you had come complaining to him, and he was already behind on grading his student’s papers. Normally, he’d tell you to give him a couple more minutes to finish up his work and you give him that time, but with how much you're groaning and talking about the pain, he’s quite quick to put his pen down. He adjusts himself and slides open his legs, patting his thigh for you to sit down on, with barely another word.
And of course you sit down, your cramps had been killing you all day and you were desperate to find any way to get rid of them because painkillers just… weren’t working. You start to weakly grind against his thigh, hands holding yourself up by his strong shoulders. His right arm wraps around your waist and guides you slow rocking movements, fishing through his desk and finding a vibrator wand. He felt a little embarrassed to have kept something so… lewd in his desk, but then again, there were moments like this that made him feel a little bit better about keeping it.
He sets it on a lower setting, pressing it against your clit and you grind against his thigh. He watches intently, his gaze soft as he does his best to coax you through it, small, soft praises that no one would expect from Veritas himself. But he’s worried, more than aroused. If this is what helps your cramps, then he doesn’t mind, he doesn’t even protest. He watches as your face goes from tensed to relaxed, moaning out his name and even small ‘thank you’s as your heat mounts.
⎯ Boothill
You don’t even have to ask BOOTHILL, the minute you complain about your cramps, he’s on his knees, tugging at the hem of your pants. He prefers to eat you out on your period, given his skilled tongue. Any ‘but’s you had when you first brought the idea up were quickly swept away, he’d eat you out every day of the week during your cycle, or even all day, if you needed it.
Boothill groans against your sex, head buried between your thighs as your hands tug at his hair, a silent praise for just how good he was doing. While he feels quite feverish, his pace is slow and languid, drawing out every little sound of yours he can. The metallic taste on his tongue is just another reward, really. His hands grip your thighs as he presses a series of kisses against your clit, before delving his tongue back into your heat.
Soft sighs escape you as he continues his ministrations, unbothered by the way you squirm every so often or tug at his hair. He’s drunk off the taste of you, really. He laps up the blood as if it was his last meal, groaning every now and then when he had to take a breath. Sometimes he murmurs something in your flesh, too muffled for you to hear, but the vibrations of his gravelly voice provide an exquisite feeling. If you could do this all day, you would.
Heat curls beneath your stomach as Boothill suckles on your clit, thighs pressing against either side of his face as you grind your hips further into his mouth like he wasn’t close enough. Your head spins as you finally let go, letting out a low moan and cumming into his mouth. He licks it all up, letting out a low, guttural sound of approval, his mouth pressed against your folds for a second longer. He withdraws with a gentle kiss pressed to your clit, and a cocky grin sent your way. He quite enjoys the mess.
⎯ Gallagher
The minute you brought the idea up, GALLAGHER is down. He’d do anything you asked him to, from simply fingering you to full on penetration, whatever you want, he does. He wants you to feel better, and by Aeons, he’ll do just that. Would period cramps even exist in a dream? Doesn’t matter. If he knows it’ll help you, he’s on it.
His fingers sink deep within your pussy, a satisfied smile gracing his lips as you roll your hips against his fingers, moaning softly. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing circles against it. Lewd squelching sounds fill your ears and you desperately chase after his fingers every time the pull back slightly, head leaning back against Gallagher’s shoulder, splayed out in his lap.
“That’s it,” He coos, his free hand wrapped around your waist, squeezing at your hip. He presses a quick kiss to the crook of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer as he picks up the pace of his fingers. Heat spreads throughout your body, your eyes rolling back as you surrender to the feeling. “Doesn’t that feel better, sweetheart?”
Before you can catch it, your orgasm sneaks up on you all too quickly. You barely felt it build up, and now you’ve cum on Gallagher’s fingers. He lets out a throaty chuckle as you do so, tilting your head and moaning into his ear. With a few more pumps of his rough fingers, he pulls them out slowly, admiring his work. You breathe heavily, doing what you can to catch your breath. Your eyes follow his hand as he brings it up to his mouth, sucking off the rest of your blood and cum from his fingers with a satisfied, sultry look.
⎯ Sunday
SUNDAY would feel quite… down, knowing that period cramps still exist within Penacony. Knowing you can’t even escape them in the Dreamscape, he can’t help but wallow a little. But, with that, he will do anything to take away the pain. And when you suggest period sex, he’s practically scrambling for a condom.
Water sloshes around you as Sunday’s hands curl up at your sides, nails digging into flesh. He presses his nose to the crook of your neck, moaning against your skin as he bucks his hips up into you. Your back is pressed flush against his chest, his cock buried within you as he does his best to guide you by your hips. He lets out soft groans here and there, evidently enjoying this more than you are.
He does his best to minimize splashing, yet he is eager to please, and to make you feel better. He isn’t rough or fast, taking you at a rather languid pace, but with how feverish his groans are, how his hips stutter every now and then, he’s rather close himself. He can’t help himself, simply being this close to you has him hard. You roll your head back, moaning against his ear, and he just can’t help but cum.
You follow soon after as Sunday peppers kisses against your neck, sloppily at first, but becoming more refined as he shakes off that needy headspace. The pressure in your stomach gives way to blissful heaven then nothingness, the pain that spread to your stomach and legs, gone, just like that. When you turn your head to look at Sunday, he was a gentle smile plastered to his lips, eyelashes fluttering as if he himself had felt your pain go away.
⎯ Argenti
ARGENTI does everything that he can for you when you start your period. No questions asked. In fact, he’s the one that brings up the idea of sex. He’ll eat you out as you wish, finger you, or simply fuck you as gently or as hard as you wish. He doesn’t mind a mess, he actually quite likes it.
He indulges in his desires so easily when it’s you. When his eyes flutter open, he looks up at you with the utmost devotion, head buried between your thighs as you ride his face. Your moans only spur him on, and when you look behind you, you can see his painfully hard erection that has gone untouched. He planned on delighting you in every single way you asked him to, but insisted on starting with his favorite.
Argenti whimpers against your flesh, too caught up in his own selfish desires as his normally profound and rather elegant tongue-fucking turns feverish and sloppy, as if this was something he had always wanted. It was hard for him to break his normally so composed character, and yet here he was, so messy for his lover above him, he himself was desperate to quell the cramps you had been dealing with. His mouth works at a head-spinning pace for once, licking a fat stripe up your folds, kissing your clit, then practically making out with whatever he could put his mouth on.
Just as you orgasm, he lets out a guttural groan, something that came from deep within his throat, lapping up what he can and more. Yet, when you look behind you, Argenti’s cock is drooling, flushed, with sticky white tendrils coating his abdomen. His face flushes when you notice, but he doesn’t hide it. “Apologies…” He mutters against your flesh, giving it another kiss before raising your hips and helping you get off.
⎯Sampo Koski
Whatever you need, SAMPO has for you. He prefers to finger you while on your period, but he doesn’t mind full on sex, or even using toys. If he can’t be there when you’re on your period, he’ll make sure you have plenty of toys to keep yourself… company.
Sampo groans softly behind you, his leg thrown over yours as you two spoon, his fingers gliding over your folds. He doesn’t dare push them in, not yet, anyways. As much as you begged him, he wanted to be as difficult as possible, no matter how much you complained how bad the cramps were getting. Despite that, you were shuddering at any long stroke, the way his pointer and middle finger caged your clit in between them, a satisfied hum coming from his throat.
“Mmm…” He moans, grinding against your ass. He still can’t help getting himself off, the sounds of your breath hitching and soft moans as you ask him for more, how can he not get off on that? How selfish of him, really, to abate your pleasure in favor for his… “Feels good, huh?”
The audacity of this man, it’s as if he’s taunting you. Before you can complain, he finally presses both fingers to your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles around it. His grinding borders on desperate as he does so, burying the face in the crook of your neck as his eyebrows furrow. The bastard had came before he even gave you the chance to build up… but he doesn’t leave you hanging. As if he felt bad that he had teased you. His fingers sink into your heat, thumb pressed against your clit. He pumps them at a leisurely pace, unhurried still. Sampo’s breath is heavy as he comes down from his high, head still spun up in the need to please. He’ll apologize correctly, he swears, after you cum AT LEAST twice…
⎯ Jing Yuan
JING YUAN is actually quite delighted to have any hand in making you feel better. From making sure you have you painkillers and enough snacks, to making sure your need is sated. He’s quite happy when you ask for sex, and his go to is NORMALLY fingering, but tonight, he’s feeling a little different…
Warm water runs down your back as you press your lips to Jing Yuan’s shoulder, the scent his cologne filling your senses. After a long day of work, he had proposed a shower with you, but now, it had long been forgotten, his large hands placed on your hips as he rolled his own slowly. His cock is pressed between your thighs, dragging against your folds, the head notching against your clit every few seconds. The push and pull makes your head spin, leaning in to him to keep yourself up.
He had been craving you all day, almost too distracted to finish his work. He didn’t know exactly what brought on the sudden bout of clinginess, you were always on his mind, yes, but nothing quite like this. So, when he came home to you, complaining about your cramps, it felt like every aligned, clicked into place. He was quick to comfort you… and more.
He chuckles softly above you as your nails dig into his arms, which was quickly replaced with a low, content moan. He leans his head down, picking up the pace of his thrusts ever so slightly, causing you to gasp. Your thighs tense as pressure rises beneath your stomach, Jing Yuan kept up with the steady pace. Slowly, drag after drag, the pressure builds, and then releases as you shudder, pressed up against him. He guides you through your orgasm, his thrusts slow as he allowed you to come down from your high. He held off his own orgasm, pulling away from you with a soft smiler, an even softer gaze.
⎯ Blade
BLADE may sound reluctant but he’s quite thrilled with the idea. He doesn’t mind fingering you, but he actually quite enjoys giving you head. To have his mouth pressed against you, a towel beneath you, while he works his magic… he could ask for nothing more.
He’s feeling especially ravenous tonight, and has you perched up on the couch, over his face, while he strokes his cock. The other hand holds you by your thigh, letting out low grunts and groans in between sloppy kisses and licks to your pussy. He’s greedy, but unhurried, making sure to let his contentment be known through lewd noises.
He doesn’t say much, as he normally does, simply feasting on whatever he can. Moans escaped him as he continued to stroke himself, hips bucking impatiently. His teeth scrape against your folds every now and then, taking what he wants. He draws out any sounds he can from you, his pace bordering on desperation. His grip tightens on your thigh, watching as you tense every now and then.
Ultimately, your moans become more frequent, Blade’s sloppy eating getting to you as heat surges through your body, your hands gripping the back of the couch. You look down between your legs and meet Blade’s gaze, fiery and passionate. You can’t help but lose yourself in those eyes, even with such a lewd action. He laps up every drop of your essence, letting out a satisfied hum before shifting his attentions to his own cock, desperate to get himself off, as if he was finished. Which, he wasn’t, really. It was the first of many orgasms that night, he’d make sure it was.
⎯ Luocha
Far be it for LUOCHA to deny you pleasure. Especially when you come to him glassy eyed, hands over your stomach, muttering about how you’d do anything to make the cramps go away. He’d do anything to see you smiling again. And when your eyes light up at the suggestion, he’s more than happy to go through with it.
You had asked him for help, and by Aeons, Luocha would make sure you would feel better. He cages you in via a mating press, his hair falling around you like a veil. His eyes are closed and eyebrows furrowed as he moans, pressing as deep into you as he can. His voice was groggy and heavy, only to have just woken up. Yet he was lucid enough to lose himself within you.
He leans in and presses a feverish kiss to your lips, his strokes slow and measured, pausing every time his cock was fully seated in you. At this moment he could care less about the blood on his dick, too tired to control his desires and submitting to some sort of primal urge that welled within him. Luocha, so normally controlled, yet still a slave to desire.
It was early morning, you yourself didn’t know what time exactly. You had just woken up, and for whatever reason you just couldn’t sleep. Unfortunately, your cramps had caught up to you before you could fall asleep, and aside from moaning and groaning in bed, you had woken up Luocha to help, at least not wanting to be alone while it felt like your cramps were eating you alive. He seemed so eager to help, and now that you were beneath him, you understood why.
⎯ Dan Heng
DAN HENG is not adverse to the idea at all, the first time you had asked, he was quick to suggest toys. Any time your cycle comes around and you suggest period sex, he’s got a towel at the ready and a vibrator of your choice picked out.
He sits behind you, eyes transfixed on your sex as he presses a wand up to your clit. His hand rests on your thigh as you buck your hips against the toy, whining softly. You do your best to keep quiet, Dan Heng’s lack of noise making you feel slightly awkward. Yet, he spurs you on in his own quiet way, pressing the wand a little harder against your clit.
His fingers trail from your thigh to your hip, now resting his chin on your shoulder. He listens intently to all the little sounds you make, before whispering silent praises to you. You had already cum twice, your cramps a distant thought by now. But you had asked for more, and Dan Heng would deliver, as always.
Before your orgasm can creep up on you, he pulls the vibrator away from you and shuffles out from behind you. You complain, but he urges you to lay down, rifling through one of your drawers for a box of condoms. He looks back at you with a barely noticeable smirk. Something that told you to hush up and wait…
⎯ Gepard
While GEPARD is hesitant when the suggestion of period sex is proposed, when you tell him that it could help lessen your cramps, he’s rather eager to get started. He finds that his fingers work best, if you two can’t find a condom.
Gepard is quite antsy when you come home, you had texted him that you had had a bad day, and that your cramps were kicking your ass, and he wanted to make it allll better. He had bought you all sorts of treats, flowers, ordered takeout, the list goes on. And when the door opened he had showered you with all sorts of questions, what else he could do to make your day better, how he can help, whatever he could do. One question makes you shake off your bad mood so quickly, though: “Do you want me to get you your vibrator?”
So there you are, sitting across from Gepard, legs open as you press the want to your clit, while he strokes himself slowly. His eyes drop to your folds, his face practically red. He feels… perverted, but he just can’t help himself. Your soft breaths guiding his arousal, eyes darting nervously between your face and to your pussy, then back to your face.
Eventually, he came prematurely, stuttering over his words and muttering apologies after he does, only to be met with a soft sigh from you. He can’t help but watch with rapt fascination, that same flush painting his face continuously. And when you cum, he practically cuddles up to you, peppering kisses across your face and neck, praising you.
⎯ Caelus
You don’t bring up the idea, CAELUS does. He practically begs before you even get the chance to say you’re down. He goes all in, really, depends on what you are feeling like. You want him to eat you out? He’s on his knees. Want him to fuck you? All good with him. He’ll use toys as well, if you aren’t comfortable with any part of him being in you.
He shudders beneath you as his hands guide your hips up and down his cock, groaning softly, eyes heavy-lidded and glassy, eyes darting everywhere like he doesn’t know exactly what to look at. You prop yourself up by your hands on his chest, head dipped as every thrust makes you forget all about your woes.
He does his best not to cum, simply the sight of you riding him like that, taking what you want, it feels like it’s too much. He always did his best to make your periods tolerable, if you weren’t down for sex, he’d grab any snack he could, make sure you had a heating pad, pain killers, and whatever else you wanted. But when you were down for sex, Aeons, he could go all night. That’s one perk of housing a stellaron inside of his body.
“F-Fudge, you’re good…” Caelus groans. You can’t help but chuckle softly at the word ‘fudge’, you know exactly where– who– he picked it up from, and he returns your chuckle in kind. He was never one to take sex seriously, and will never, even when it’s something like… fucking your cramps away.
⎯ Welt
Who better to take care of you than WELT YANG? He does not mind the mess at all, whichever way you want him to take you, he will do. He’s on top of everything, the painkillers you need, snacks you’d like, eating pads, the whole thing. And when it comes to you asking him about period sex? He gladly says yes.
“Feeling better?” Welt murmurs against your skin, his fingers sinking into your warm heat. He knew well enough that of course one little movement wouldn’t make your cramps go away. But with how reassuring he had been, and even how quick he was to comply with your request for sex. He had set a towel beneath you, and even brought out a myriad of toys to use if you so wished.
Slowly he pumped his fingers inside you, head resting on your shoulder as he watched his own movements. His gentle smile persists as you moan, melting at his touch. His free hand strokes your back, coaxing you through it with soft words as your walls clamp around his fingers. He draws out each motion for you, slow and deliberate, pressing a kiss to your shoulder with each moan you let out.
Even with his slow movements, you find that your orgasm sneaks up on you all too quickly. You press your legs together as if to keep him out, heat curling up beneath your stomach and down your legs. He doesn’t stop, simply nudging your legs open with his free hand, curling his fingers and hitting juuust the right spot. You whine and cum over his fingers, grinding your hips against them weakly. He allows you to ride out your high, that placant smile playing on his lips still.
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© sentoooo, 2024 | masterlist | kofi | star header by roseschoices | sfw blog DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.
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diejager · 9 months
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More Wolfie plz🥺? Idk what you’d right but I love the universe you built up with it and would love more of it, even if it’s just a sliver
Training Cw: smut, training, collar, ring gag, doggy style, creampie, unprotected sex, PinV, fingering, tell me if I missed any.
“What did I tell you about growling, pup?” He sounded so demeaning, his hand laid heavy on your nape, holding your face down and away from the two men in the room with you.
Ghost had pulled you to Price’s office under the guise of this being training, wanting to work through your aggression you’d thrived on while living in the wild. You were jerky and a biter, baring your teeth after a low growl, threatening to sink into someone’s hand or arm as retaliation. They were getting a lot of complaints from people who would approach you and attempt to pet your ears and tail, wanting to touch the softness of your washed fur and disregarding your personal space and boundaries.
“None of that,” his grip tightened around your neck when your throat rumbled, a growl slipping through your gagged mouth, drool rolling down your cheek.
They gave you a pretty, black ring gag, placed behind your teeth to keep your mouth open from biting them and showing off your sweet and fiery mouth. The black leather looped behind your head, a thin strap connecting it to your collar, a smooth, black leather that sat comfortably around your neck without irritating it, but thin enough for you to feel everything. They had you wear it as a sign of possession, the silver insignia of their Task Force hanging from the front, a skull and winged sword proudly gleaming under the light wherever you go.
You mellowed down, growls quieting to loud pants, exhausted from your skirmish with Ghost, doing your best ignore your Captain’s rough handling, his calloused fingers kneading the flesh of your hips and stomach, his hands smoothing over the arch of your back to your tail. Your fur was matted and wet, dirtied with slick that - prior to being forced into this position - pooled down your rim and wetting your soft fur. You’d long given up in fighting Price, he was much stronger than you and smelled of power and strength —like alpha. He was the leader of your little pack, a fiercely protective leader who had every intent of putting his group first, but it was his scent that made you stop. He smelled of strong musk, a heady scent of cigar and cedar, less smoky and sweet than your Lieutenant’s sandalwood that kept flooding your sensitive nose.
“Good pup, you’re doing so well,” Price cooed, running his fingers through your hair, scratching the reactive nerve behind your ears. It made you whine, a high sound that had both of them shush you, “That’s it, you’re all right, pup.”
Your panting grew louder, mewls slipping out as a final sign of submission, letting them bend your body to their pleasure. You arched your back, bucking against the bearded man that was ploughing into you, driving his hard cock into your wet cunt, slick squelching out of you with every snap of his hips, his balls slapping your twitching clit. You couldn’t deny how good it felt to give up all autonomy after having taken care of yourself on your own for years, letting another care for you and manhandle you in the best way. His veined girth laid heavy in your cunt, your gummy walls wrapped round him in a tight hold, just a hair away from coming.
Canting his hips and leaning forward, your world exploded in bright lights when Price’s head tapped your cervix, punching the air out of your body with every thrust. He was guiding you through your orgasm just as he had his, his cock throbbing and veins pulsing before the tip spurted ropes of cum, painting your walls white with his tangy lad, hot and thick. Price groaned lowly, palms holding your hips flushed to his, giving a few jerky thrusts before he hilted inside of you, unmoving but grounding you with the smooth touch of his thumb and Ghost’s grip on your scruff.
When he pulled out, his cum oozed out of you, dripping down your mound and landing on the old couch in his office. He admired the gift with a slight twitch of his cock, it leaked out of you like an unending fall. Wasteful, truly. His fingers slid down your thighs, gathering his cum and pushed it back in, fingering his load with a few wet sounds.
“Stay good for Ghost, pup. Can you do that?”
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake
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sincerelyneo · 6 months
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teeth | l.hc
“fight so dirty but your love’s so sweet”
💿now playing: teeth by 5 seconds of summer
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❯ summary: Traditionally the caption of the cheer team and the captain of the soccer team are friends - some even date. But you and Donghyuck definitely aren’t friends - if anything you’re enemies. The two of you can’t go five minutes without an argument. So, why are you letting him fuck you in the locker room?
❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader
❯ genre: college!au, enemies with benefits, smut
❯ words: 2.5k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, bickering, swearing, unprotected sex (don't do this!), hate sex, degrading names, general name-calling, manhandling, haechan is an asshole, but reader is also lowkey mean, choking, use of nickname 'princess', reader uses she/her pronouns, hardly any plot, it's literally just them hate fucking idk what to tell ya.
cheeky author's note: i'm very brtish, so referring to this as soccer literally made me want to rip my hair out 😀
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“You don’t have to be so rough you know, Hyuck!”
"Will you just shut up and let me fuck you!?" He snaps.
The red metal of Lee Donghyuck's locker is cold against the skin of your bare back. Honestly, you don’t even know how it happened. But somehow the captain of the soccer team (and the boy you swear you hate) has you pinned against the boy’s lockers, one leg wrapped around his waist and the top half of your cheer uniform hiked up just enough to give him a full display of your tits. His left-hand grips your hip so tightly that you’re certain he’s doing it on purpose just to piss you off.
Not only that, but he also has your skirt bunched up around your waist. Giving him just the right amount of easy access to pull your panties to the side and tease his cock between your folds.
"Will you just hurry up and stick it in!?" You try to yell at him but, from the way he’s teasing the head of his cock at your entrance, the attempt comes out like a feeble whine.
Exactly on command, the scowl on your face quickly morphs into a wince, and the annoyed quirk on your lips disappears to form a small 'o' as Hyuck’s grip on your hip hardens and he pushes his cock quickly into your cunt. You can’t complain though - you did just tell him to stick it in.
"Shit," you squirm, hand coming up to his chest, pressing hard against the badge of his soccer uniform that rests on his right peck.
"Now look who’s needy," He teases. "I vividly remember you saying I’d be the shittest fuck on the soccer team."
"That’s what this is about!? You’re still mad that– uhh," you’re cut off by your own moan and your nails sink into the fabric of his shirt when he starts to move his hips. His pace is surprisingly slow - deliberately teasing - in comparison to his rapid first thrust inside of you.
"Christ! Even when you fuck you talk too much," Hyuck curses, his hand wrapping around your arm to free himself from the grip you have on his shirt.
"You're one to talk," You hiss back. "Even when you fuck you’re still an annoying little asshol– "
You gasp as he pulls out of you completely and then thrusts into you once again.
"You could've at least warned me, you dick,” You exhale, your walls readjusting to his size for the second time - and what a big size he was.
“Yeah, yeah, spare me the lecture princess.”
You can’t believe that even when he’s buried to the hilt inside of your pussy he’s still calling you that stupid fucking nickname. It’s not the word ‘princess’ itself that bothers you per se; it’s Lee Donghyuck’s intention behind the name that makes your blood blister with anger. He’s been calling you ‘princess’ since your freshman year in college but you’d only ever inquired about it recently.
You were at a party, and even though you hate the bones of Lee Donghyuck, you’d be lying if you said your social circles didn’t overlap. It was inevitable, he’s on the soccer team, you’re a cheerleader; honestly, the two of you should be friends. But you’re not. And because of your strained relationship, it was no surprise that the minute you walked through the door he’d picked a fight with you.
You can't even remember what the argument was about now, but you know the two of you had gone back and forth in a boxing match of insults that always ended with him throwing the word ‘princess’ at the end of his rebuttals. And you really couldn’t quite understand why. In your mind, being called a princess was a compliment, but to Donghyuck, princesses were “spoilt bitches who have no grip on reality.”
Safe to say you didn’t think the term was one of endearment after that.
And it was at that same party where you’d insisted Donghyuck would be the shittest fuck on the soccer team – something you’re currently finding out as being not true as he fucks you senseless six ways to Sunday. In all honesty, even when Yuta had asked you the question in a silly little game of truth or dare, you knew Hyuck was the cop-out answer. Truthfully, your real answer would have been Jisung or Chenle. They’re both a little younger and act more awkward with you. But still, you’d let hell freeze over before letting Lee Donghyuck think he was a better fuck than somebody else. However, you’re pretty sure you’ve broken that promise to yourself from the way you’re breathlessly panting and gasping from the vigorous drilling of his cock. That or hell genuinely has frozen over.
But still, what did he expect? The two of you couldn’t go half a second without a petty argument. Sometimes you find yourself just doing it because you were bored and he was there. After all, it’s just the norm between the two of you.
That’s why you can’t quite understand why he’s taking a stupid comment said in a passing game of truth or dare to heart. You’ve said worse to him, you're sure of it.
Hyuck pulls out of your pussy and the emptiness that lingers between your legs has you groaning – even if it’s just for a second. He doesn’t give you long to harp on the loss of friction because he wastes no time dropping your leg from his hip, gripping your waist and slamming the front of your body against his locker.
You want to make another snarky comment about his roughness, but you secretly love it. Well, it’s not so secret actually — Hyuck is well aware that you like his manhandling because he feels your wetness becoming more slick on his cock as he thrusts into you from behind.
His pace in the new position is still tortuous, slow and teasing, and so fucking annoyingly good. But you don’t know how much longer you can take the tormenting leisurely pace. You want more - you need more. If he didn't have your arms pinned behind you and you flush against the lockers, you’d claw at his back to make him go faster.
You feel a warmth on the nape of your neck as he nuzzles against your ear, placing a kiss so gently, that you’re shocked at the sudden contrast in his demeanour.
“This the shittest fuck you’ve had, huh?”
No.
“Yes,” you reply and he growls deeply. There’s a rough snap of his hips and it catches you off guard so much you have to bite down on your lip to suppress a whimper.
“Fucking liar,” he scoffs.
The insult makes your face screw up in a glare, but still, all you can manage is a breathy, “Am not.”
No matter how good the length of his cock is making you feel, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting he was right – that he’s not the worst fuck on the soccer team. Not that you had much experience with the others.
But even though you refuse to use your words to tell him you’re loving it, your body betrays you by being so fucking responsive to his touches. And no matter how hard you fight against him, Hyuck never lets you gain an inch. In fact, every time you try to free your arms from his, he lets out a frustrated groan, and the sound only makes your pussy throb harder.
His hand slips up your body until it finds your throat, where his fingers dig into either side of your neck. He stops his thrusts.
“Well if you’re not lying, are you saying I’m a shitty fuck princess?” He asks innocently as if he’s about to be gentle with you, but you know better. After all, this is Donghyuck. “If you want to pretend like you don’t want this; if that helps you sleep at night, then fine, but your slutty cunt is so fucking wet, I can almost feel you soaking my balls.”
He ducks down to place a kiss on your jaw, and you feel his lips smile into it as you shudder from his words. Instinctively, you swing your head away from him, only to be yanked back by the hand around your throat. He chuckles against your skin, hips starting to move again, thrusting shallowly into your stretched cunt.
“If I’m such a shitty fuck, I supposed you want me to stop, huh?” He asks in a low voice, lips grazing your cheek.
Noises you’ve never heard yourself make before tumble from your mouth as you moan and sob shamelessly. You try to bite your tongue, try not to fuel his ego, but his rhythm is too good at tearing down your guard, which is why you find yourself crying out, “Please don’t stop!”
He laughs, fucking you harder and faster, the stings of pain from his cock hitting you so deep morphing into a hot ache of pleasure that coils tighter and tighter in your core.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls.
His fingers, still on your throat press into your skin, not hard enough to cut off your air supply but just enough pressure to force out strangled moans. Your shoulders rub against the coarse material of his soccer kit, grounding you against him as he fucks you in punishing thrusts.
You don’t want to admit it, but your body can’t resist it.
“Fuck, gonna cum,” you mumble, eyes squeezed tight together.
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me like a good little slut?” he murmurs into your temples
The low rumble of his voice has the tension in your core ratcheting higher, pushing you closer to your release. Your head feels like it’s floating as the tight spring in your stomach coils until it finally snaps and has your knees buckling beneath you.
Hyuck keeps his speed steady, fucking you through your climax and savouring the way your walls clench around him in rigid spasms. Your orgasm triggers his and he clenches his jaw.
“Fuck, I'm gonna cum,” he ruts into you harder, and all you can do is moan for him.
“Please,” you whimper.
He chuckles at your submission - he’s never seen you like this before - so needy and desperate. He didn’t think it was possible to love anything about you; but this right here, you fucked out and pleading for his cum, yeah, he fucking loves it.
He ruts into you a last few times with thrusts that are wild and more frenzied, his thighs slapping against your ass. He contemplates cumming inside of you, but he figures he’d save that for another day since the two of you had forgotten about a condom and hadn’t really discussed it.
And…did he just think about having sex with you again?
With a loud groan that rattles against the metal in the empty locker room, Hyuck pulls out of your cunt and jerks his cock until he’s cumming onto the small of your back. Unable to stop yourself, you moan softly and a stupid smile spreads across your face when you hear him sigh.
After that it's silent, only your rapid breaths echoing in the room. He’s pressed against you, face buried in your neck, holding you and your weak legs in place. You stay like that for a beat, but then you remember who it is that’s just fucked you.
Without any more hesitation, you shake his grip and push him away from you. "Christ! Stop breathing down my neck. Fucking gross."
If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s your arch nemesis you would have stayed tangled up in him a little while longer, letting yourself get soaked up in the fact that that was the best sex you’ve ever had.
As you turn around to face him, he looks at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen on his face.
“There’s a towel in my bag if you want to…”
You scoff, “How chivalrous of you.”
You pull the towel from the bag in his locker and start wiping at his cum on your back. Your body is turned away from him but you can still feel his eyes lingering on you as you wipe away.
You stop to look at him, “What are you still doing here? We have a game in like 10 minutes. Shouldn’t you be like…warming up or something?”
“I think I’m already warmed up,” he mumbles and you shake your head with a smile, going back to cleaning yourself off.
“Seriously, get on the pitch,” you demand when you see him still lingering.
There’s a hand in his hair, scratching his head and he looks a little flushed. You never see him like this, it’s weird. The Hyuck you know and loathe is cocky, smug, arrogant, all of those kinds of words; but the one in front of you looks so awkward, flushed. Is it weird you kinda like it?
“Are you waiting for me to tell you you aren’t a bad fuck or something? Seriously Hyuck, get lost,” you try and joke, pulling down your cheer uniform.
“No..I…” he stumbles.
You groan, “Oh no, don’t do this. Don’t make things weird.”
“I’m not—”
“Can’t you just be like a normal guy and…I don’t know, say it felt good to fuck me like you hate me or some shit?”
His eyes sweep over your face as if he were studying you. His face softens and he steps closer.
“I mean I could say that, because it felt fucking amazing actually,” he says and you swallow thickly. “But you’re wrong about one thing.”
You pause, freezing as he comes towards you. You don’t even register how close he is until you feel his breath on your lips and his chest against yours.
“What?”
“I don’t actually hate you that much,” he admits, and your eyes widen.
“Yeah right, funny joke,” you roll your eyes and laugh sarcastically but he’s not laughing with you. In fact he’s just looking at you, deadpan, and it’s starting to freak you out.
When you realise that he is in fact serious, you cross your hands across your chest.
“You’re not gonna start doing all that cheesy shit they do in the movies, where you profess your undying love for me, and tell me you never really hated me and it was all just a miscommunication, are you?”
“Fuck no!” He almost gags at the mention of it. “Just because I said I don’t hate you that much doesn’t mean I like you? Are you crazy?”
“Well I’m just making sure,” you poke his chest.
He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, “But I do wanna do this again…” he trails off so quietly that you wouldn’t have heard it if there was anybody else in the room with you.
“This?”
“Yes, this. Us. Fucking,” he explains. “I fucking hate you, but fuck, I think I love your pussy.”
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Text
give me your heart, make it real
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pairing: javier peña x reader
tags/cw: smut, f! receiving oral, p in v, undercover as lovers, big dick javi, no use of y/n, no reader physical description, gentle lover javi
summary: javi needs a 'date' to a party (where escobar and crew will be idk), and asks reader to help him by dressing up in a 'slutty' outfit (not his words)
a/n: okay, yes, the title is from smooth by santana ft. rob thomas (on my javi-coded spotify playlist even tho it came out post-narcos). i've only made it to s2 ep4 and slept thru s1 ep8-10, so i've been committing the crime of not knowing the lore (i am so down bad for javi it's insane)
wc: 3.8k
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"I have a lead, and you're coming with me," Javi says, already ushering you out of the room.
"You can't just whisk me away - I have to ask Messina."
"Messina gave me the go-ahead."
"I still need to-" You try to walk away from him but his hand loosely holds your arm, and before you break free, Messina says, approaching from behind, "Go with Agent Peña."
It must be a good lead if she's so quick to send you off with Peña. He looks you over, and says, "You can't wear that. How quickly can you change?"
"Into my tactical gear?"
"No, into a dress."
"Whose quinceañera are we attending?"
"Funny. I have intel about a party happening this evening. You're going to be my date. I need you in a dress - the shorter the better - and makeup, lots of it."
"You want me to look like a hooker?"
"Something like that."
You expect Javi to drop you off at your apartment, but he follows you in – he tries to follow you all the way to your bedroom, but you stop him. Maybe he’s just running on instinct, not used to having a woman invite him into her home without the intention of sex.
"Go sit in the living room," you scoff, pushing him away. "Make yourself at home." You keep your tone sarcastic to avoid letting any nervousness creep into your voice.
You're not supposed to look pretty, per se. He's expecting slutty, and yet, you still worry about looking too slutty in front of Javi. You've made a conscious effort to keep every interaction between the two of you professional, and you are determined to keep it that way. While you cake your face in cosmetics, you remind yourself that you would not go to such lengths for Javi. This is not for Javi, this is for a nobler cause than landing in his good graces. You’re fulfilling your duties as an agent on a mission to stop a narcoterrorist, and that paycheck better arrive at the end of month or you’ll be forced to get on your knees for your landlord who is not quite as handsome as Javi.  
Yes, that’s right, Javi is handsome, disgustingly so. You loathe him, not for his sex appeal itself but for his awareness of such, not for the fact that he could leverage it against you, but for the fact that he thinks he can. He can.
Javier Peña sees all women the same way - not quite as objects, but conquests. Even if you're someone, rather than something, you're still someone he could have. But you don't bend to his will, at least you haven't yet, and that's the one thing you hold over him.
Your brain is logical, and holds you to a higher standard. This has nothing to do with desire, but simple facts put into an equation that gives you a clear output. Every time the illogical part of you that lives between your thighs begs for attention, your mind reminds you of your current mantra: Javi is a walking, talking, fucking bad idea.
The red lipstick and minidress are going to get you one step closer to catching Escobar, and if it means you have to be Javi's date for a night, then it's a challenge you're willing to take.
Maybe pretending to like him will be easier than pretending not to like him, which is something you've struggled to do every day for months.
It will not be, you realize, when he whistles at you from the couch when you step out of your bedroom, all dolled up.
"I'm carrying my gun in my purse," you say - an empty threat. 
"Good girl."
"Say it one more time, Peña," you warn him, pulling your lethal weapon from a tacky, dated clutch. Your grip on it is weak and the safety is on. He mirrors your gesture, lazily pointing his own gun at you.
But he keeps his mouth shut.
Between the two of you, who's the better shot? You hope you'll never have to find out.
Javi shamelessly flirts his way around the office, but his arm around your waist is purely professional as he guides you from the car, parked a safe distance away, to your destination.
"You don't speak Spanish, you respond to 'chica', and you definitely do not have a gun on you. Got it?"
"What do you want me to call you?"
"As long as it's not my name, whatever you want, chica."
"Asshole."
Playing dumb is more fun than you thought it'd be. The wandering eyes of drug lords make you feel icky, but you don't have to respond when they speak to you. You don’t have to prove your intelligence to every man you encounter, every man who will make you take on any task they can’t handle, don’t have time for, or simply can’t be bothered to do. You don't have to do shit for once.
You keep a drink in your hand as a part of the act. Party girls like you drink, right? Honestly, you’re dead set on keeping your hands full in the hopes that you won’t be given the opportunity to do a line, inevitably refuse such an opportunity, and risk being outed as someone on the other side of this war. Javi doesn't need to tell you to pour your own drink - it's a lesson all girls are taught from a young age. Training as a federal agent may have taught you sharpshooting, but your mother told you how to avoid getting roofied.
You have a tolerance built up thanks to picking alcohol as one of your favorite vices back in college, but you know how to act drunk. While you sway a little, Javi tightens his grip on your waist to keep you grounded. You pretend not to understand when he mentions to a small group of men that you might be down for more than one man tonight, he just needs to get you warmed up first. He sounds a little too comfortable saying those words, and you doubt it's just good acting. Regardless, they seem more than happy to hear about the possibility of getting in bed with you.
"What's everyone talking about?" You slur your words and smile stupidly.
"Don't worry about it, chica," Javi says with a sly look to a man you hope you won't actually have to sleep with.
You swear you see a twinkle of something in Javi's brown eyes as they meet yours.
You realize what that something is when he surprises you by capturing your lips in a searing kiss, daring to slip his tongue in your mouth. His hand sliding downwards says, 'just go with it'. You kiss him back, pulling his hair as he grabs your ass. You know he's putting on a show, but his touch makes you feel something all too real.
You swear you hear a whistle, it's likely directed at the two of you but the hustle and bustle of chatter covers up what the onlookers are saying. Javi hears enough to know that his plan is working.
'Get a room,' they say.
'Do you have a spare?' he asks.
Too drunk for their own good and too horny at the sight in front of them, the leader offers one up.
Your embarrassment is real – you're not hiding a winning smile underneath like Javi is. You're directed to a bedroom, and resisting the urge to scope the room immediately, Javi lays you flat on the bed and climbs on top of you, pinning your arms above your head - and, making you wetter than you'd ever tell him. He's keeping you from pushing him away until the door shuts and he tones things down.
He whispers into your ear when he's sure the man who led you here is far enough away that he can drop the act for a moment, "You're going to do what I say. No questions asked. Are we clear?"
You nod, terrified and knowing he's the only one you can trust in this place. With less shame than one might expect, he shows you what to do, getting you to mimic him. He sucks on his own fingers and you follow blindly, he pulls up the bottom of his shirt and slaps his skin while bouncing on the bed just enough that it creaks, rhythmically, like you're – oh, you understand.
Then, he whispers in your ear, "moan for me," and you do. "Perfect, just like that," he says, and you're no longer praying that you don't get caught by the cartel, but that you don't get caught by Javi. "That's good, keep going," he says, and god, you couldn't stop it if you wanted to.
You've forgotten everything else he's said, so he takes your hand and slides it up your dress, slapping the skin of your thighs and then grabs your hips to bounce them up and down. You whimper at the loss of his touch - all thoughts other than 'Javi' have left your head. He starts searching the room for evidence of anything case-related, and you continue to suck, moan, bounce, slap your skin, pretend to fuck the man in front of you because he wants you to, because he told you to keep going.
You watch Javi's back - as you should. You watch his arms, the way his jeans fit perfectly, the shape of his nose as he turns to his side and you can see his profile, his focused eyes.
You imagine his eyes looking over your body, his nose tickling your skin, those jeans coming off, his arms caging you in while he's on top of you. You hope the bed's not slick with arousal. 
Don't touch yourself. But, he's not looking. Maybe you can pass it off as dedication to the cause. Don't. Don't. Don't.
When he finds what he needs, he takes what he can, receipts and encoded notes, and he shoves them down his pants. You watch him readjust. He sees, and gives you a look of 'what?'. He ruffles his hair, unbuttons his top two buttons, making himself look disheveled. Then, he licks thumb and runs in under your eyes, smudging your eyeliner and with the other, your lipstick. As if he's practiced, he wipes the excess red on his lips.
You look stunned, he looks satisfied. Everyone stares when you leave but for all the wrong reasons. They have no idea what went on in that room. Javi has no idea either. It's your own little secret.
When you make it to the safety of Javi’s car, you sigh, relaxing into the passenger seat, and he says, "Thank you. You did really well back there. I could just kiss you right now - for real."
You know what he means. It's another thank you, maybe even I'm proud of you. But he’s still giving you an opportunity. It has to be intentional. 
"Then, do it. I dare you."
He could make a joke but he doesn't, he smiles and does as he said. He kisses you, and his lips parting slightly is the offer. When your tongue meets his, he knows, he must know.
"We should celebrate," he says. "Wanna come back to my place?"
You agree, even though you should know by now that going home with Javi is risky business at best.
Javi is enough of a gentleman to offer you a drink before suggesting you move things to the bedroom. All he has is whiskey, and while it's not your favorite, you decide the liquid courage is worth the taste.
"To us," Javi says, raising his glass before tapping it against yours. Sure, you're supposed to look into each other's eyes when you tap your glass against his, but the look you share says something beyond the toast. He might as well have winked at you. The tension is palpable, and you become increasingly aware of Javi's experience in this field - he may hold superiority to you in the DEA due to his extra years working for the agency, but what intimidates you is not that, but his body count, which is surely dozens above yours.
But then again, how much of the sex he has is with prostitutes? Is he even a good fuck? Maybe that's why he pays for sex. No, you've heard rumors being passed around throughout the DEA, and unless Javi pays for reviews too, he's good, great even.
"Are you in there, querida?" His head is cocked to the side in a way that lets you know he's been trying to get your attention for awhile.
"Oh yeah, I was just thinking." 
"Anything interesting? I thought I was going to have to shake you."
"No, my mind's just…"
"Elsewhere?"
"Yeah, you could say that."
"Mine too." He places his glass on the table. "You did very well today. Have you ever acted before?"
"No, not really."
"You're a natural, then, because it was pretty convincing."
You think you've gotten away with it until you see the glint in his eye.
"It helps when you're… inspired," you say with a coy grin.
"Inspired? Is that what they're calling it now?"
"I don't wanna say it. It's embarrassing."
"You don't have to, it was pretty obvious how you felt."
It's good that you've had a drink or two because you'd be running out of the room in embarrassment if you hadn't. You're not as practiced as some of the girls he's been with, and it's probably obvious, but you're not a virgin either. You're also not an idiot. This is going in the direction you've always wanted it to - towards his bedroom.
Javi leans in, and whispers into the shell of your ear, "I didn't give you the tour of my apartment, did I?"
His hot breath on your skin sends chills down your spine, but you pretend to be barely-fazed. "Mm-mm, you haven't."
"Do you wanna see my bedroom?"
"Yeah, I'd like that."
He takes your hand and helps you up, and though you’ve felt his hands before, you notice the way one of his can envelop yours. He kisses you, soft and sweet, he kisses you, passionate and feverish, he kisses you with purpose, walking you backwards in the direction of his bedroom. He can tell you're nervous about the possibility of knocking into things so he assures you, "Don't worry. I know my way around. I won't let you get hurt."
"You come here often?"
You get a laugh out of him, light and genuine, but most of all rare. "Not as often as I should."
You find that his grip on you is looser than it was in public. There's nothing to protect you from here. It's just Peña, your colleague. It's just Javi, the man you've seen in the risque dreams you have too frequently to write them off as a misfire in your subconscious.
If someone had asked you with a gun to your head if you thought Javier Peña would be a gentle lover, you'd be dead. And if you are, then you made it to heaven.
He slides your zipper down carefully and lets you slip out of your dress, insisting on abiding by the rule of 'ladies first' when you try to unbutton his shirt. Your fingers shake as you restrain yourself against the urge to rip the fabric, so he replaces your hands with his own. His belt is gone too by the time he sits down on the edge of the bed, hands holding yours while he gazes at you in your bra and panties.
"Do you dress like this under your work clothes every day or was this for your 'costume?'"
"I wanted to do a good job playing my part. I didn't know if I'd need to take off my dress."
"But you were willing to if I'd asked you?"
"You told me to do whatever you said."
"But you could've told me to 'fuck off'. Did you want me to see you like this? Is it possible that you wanted to look pretty for me?"
"You're very good at interrogations, Peña. You would make a good cop."
He keeps his laughter contained, but there's a hint of a smile on his lips when he says, "You're going to call me, 'Javi' when you're in my bed. Are we clear?"
You salute him just to push his buttons, and it works, he pulls you into his lap and holds you there. You love his tight jeans for the way they allow you to feel how hard he is right now.
"So fucking gorgeous," he mutters as his kisses trail down your neck. He undoes your bra with one hand and you brace yourself for impact, dying to feel his mouth on your newly-exposed skin.
You would never have expected his skin to be so soft. His hands are calloused and he has wrinkles between his eyebrows, but his broad shoulders are perfectly smooth. You feel like apologizing preemptively for the marks you might leave.
But Javi flips you onto your back and you see a flash of hunger in his eyes. He's wanted this for a long time too.
"When you were moaning for me earlier, I couldn't stop wondering if that's what you'd sound like if I touched you like this."
'Like this' means one hand slipping into your panties and playing with your clit while the other thumb runs over your nipple. You take a sharp inhale of breath and try not to moan loudly but end up letting out a whimper that must sound awfully pathetic.
"Even prettier," he says, as his voice gets further away and you realize he's getting on his knees.
You must be dead. You must've died at that party because this is too perfect to be true.
He places gentle kisses on the inside of each of your thighs before slipping off your panties.
"Javi." Breathy and urgent, it’s an admission of your arousal. 
"Querida?" 
Your voice trembles as you tell him the secret you've been keeping. "When I was 'acting', I had to stop myself from saying your name."
"You were such a good girl."
His lips ghost over your clit before he presses a light kiss to your skin. You're so desperate you could cry. You let his name slip out now that you're alone.
"You're still a good girl."
One finger slips inside you like a reward and his tongue circles your clit. You swear he can hear your thoughts - "I'm sorry I pulled a gun on you earlier when you called me that. You make me feel flustered all the time, so much that you piss me off". He groans into your core as if to say, "It's okay. I already knew that".
But then your brain turns to mush and all that's left is, "Javi, Javi, Javi." And his response is to put your legs over his shoulders and slip another finger inside you. He can tell you're struggling against the pleasure, gripping his bedsheets in a desperate attempt to avoid tugging his hair. His unoccupied hand finds one of yours, coaxing you into holding it. The tenderness only heightens the pleasure.
"I know, cariño, just let go for me. I've got you."
The safest you've ever been is with Javi next to you. Safe enough to keep you alive, safe enough for you to cry out his name without fear. You come down from the most intense orgasm of your life, panting with Javi's hands stroking your sides before lifting your legs so he can climb into bed beside you.
Without a thought left in your head, your eager hands reach for the button of his jeans, but he stops you. "Are you sure about this?"
"Of course. I'm in your bed, aren't I?"
"But your legs are shaking, querida. You need a minute to relax."
"I want you."
"I'll still be here in five minutes."
He comes back with water and a condom and you understand why women sleep with him.
He bargains with you - you drink some water and he takes his pants off. He doesn't intend to make a show of it, but you marvel at his body, now fully on display in front of you. The dryness in your mouth reminds you of the cold glass in your hand, which you down, equal parts nervous and aroused at the sight of his cock.
Javi notices the genuine concern in your eyes – surely women have looked at him with the same hesitant desire. In response to the unspoken, he strokes your cheek with a sweetness that makes you blush. "We'll go slow."
He sinks into you slowly, incrementally. His length strokes a particularly sensitive spot inside you that makes your walls tighten around him, and you can feel his hips jerk in response, self-restraint wavering as he holds himself back from fucking you roughly.
Once he bottoms out, he stops and lets you savor the feeling of being full. His lips still red and puffy from their time spent between your thighs, find yours and he kisses you with a fervor that cannot be sustained when you're both breathing so heavily.
"Javi, I need you," you whine.
"You have me."
"I need you to f–" he starts thrusting in and out of you while you speak, forcing you to cut yourself off with a moan.
The way he groans is gorgeous. He sets a steady pace and gets lost in the feeling. The urge to be closer to you takes over and he has you sitting in his lap within seconds. His hands cup your ass and allow him to move you as he pleases.
Your words in his ear are less than coherent when you bury your face in his neck. His teeth graze the skin on your shoulders and in the back of your mind you know you should worry about the marks he might leave, but the desire to be his, to remember that you had something even for a moment overtakes you. So, you throw your head back and give him access to a greater expanse of your skin.
Arousal fills you with a jolt of energy, giving you a boost in stamina, and you leverage yourself on Javi's shoulders and take over the work of sliding his cock between your wet folds, hips erratic and faltering. 
You don’t need to tell him how close you are, he can tell. He’s seen you cum before, he’s tasted it. 
"Me too," he says. It's more intense than the first one - you keep your eyes open with sheer willpower because you need to know what he looks like when he cums. There's a fair chance you won't see him like this again and you need to keep his beautiful 'o' face in your spank bank.
But what slips from his lips is not a string of curses or a wordless groan, but your name. It sounds even better when you hear it again during round two, and even better when it follows ‘good morning’. 
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reddesires · 20 days
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Magnetic
Logan Howlett x Mutant Reader
Summary: There's only one way of satisfying your undying curiosity of finding out whether or not those fridge magnets will stick to the one and only Wolverine, who just happens to have an adamantium skeleton.
A/N: There may or may not be a continuation of this, idk yet.
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It first started off as mere curiosity, the fact of knowing Logan's skeleton was enveloped by pure metal on the forefront of your brain.
Your eyes would constantly wander to the fridge that was decorated by various colorful magnets by the students, the cat and and the multicolored alphabet letters, especially catching your attention.
The growing need to know if those magnets would stick to Logan or not was just too irresistible to refuse as you snatch the grumpy cat magnet from the fridge door, examining the narrowed green eyes on the face of black feline. Yeah, it reminded you very much of the rugged mean mugging man who was all too unaware of your devious intentions.
Logan was used to your teasing antics of playing with his tufts of hair whenever you got the chance or somehow discovering all the new hiding places he hides his beer in, just to hide them elsewhere (he thinks it's your sixth sense at this point). He feels as if he's always on his toes when it comes to you, your mutation aiding you in somehow bypassing his enhanced senses, you find great joy in sneaking up on him when he least expects it.
So when you casually walk in the room that he's in with your hands behind your back with a feign, innocent look on your face, his eyes narrow suspiciously. “Oh hey Lo! Didn't expect to see you here!” The lilt in your voice and the sway of your body as you walk over only cause him to tense as he sits up straight, his eyebrow raising in question.
“You know I usually sit here,” his voice trails off as his eyes trail up and down, analyzing your body movement. “You're up to something.” You grin immediately, a laugh bubbling up as you round the table as if you're trying to corner him, and he doesn't waste time standing and quickly rounding the table from you.
“Hey, don't make me spill my beer,” He says warily, holding his beer up by the neck of the bottle. You smile deviously as you slowly trail along the side of the table, still holding the mystery item behind your back and he doesn't like how you're looking at him as he mimics your movements ready to bolt to the exit any second. “Okay, we're playing that game.”
He exhales exasperatedly as he immediately swerves and runs out the door, holding his beer securely as he hears you run after him. “Logan! Get back here!” The laugh in your voice is mischievous and he doesn't trust you as the two of you run past Jean and Ororo, they look after the both of you surprised as they never expected Logan to run away from you of all people.
“Get em, girl!” Ororo cheers as they watch you round the corner after Logan, he's trying to lose you by running in front of innocent students and taking unexpected turns and it isn't long for you to have him cornered.
“Aye, have mercy.” He says your name with defeat as he clutches his beer to his chest, he somehow managed to save it from even spilling a drop during the chase and it makes you giggle as you step forward building the anticipation before getting to him, and he only watches with a close eye as you do. Only when you're within an inch from him, your face almost intimately close to his, do you notice his adam's apple bob up and down with trepidation, his eyes fluttering slightly as he's aware of how close you are to him.
You slap the magnet onto his face.
He blinks once then twice as the magnet sticks securely on to his cheek. You gasp with unadulterated joy, a cheer pulled out of you as your curiosity has finally been fulfilled.
“It does stick! Oh, this is gonna be so fun!” His face falls as he realizes what this concurs. He's become your magnetic plaything as he remembers the millions of magnets that are currently adorned on the fridge door.
“No, don't you think about it.” He grumbles as he pulls the magnet off his cheek, the crabby cat image only intensifying his dismay for your new upcoming hobby. “Oh Wolvie, it's all I can think about.” You tease as you gently squeeze his cheek, walking away feeling rejuvenated.
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malleleothreesome · 10 months
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Stage Sex - Fellow Honest x Fem Reader (Part One)
🌟 summary: Fellow convinces you to become his latest star, taking your virginity shibari style in front of a live audience. ༶༶༶ 🌟 warnings: afab fem reader. Porn with plot – if the plot is him convincing you to partake in the porn. I didn't write this with the intent of it being dubcon (in my mind, reader is a willing participant, and I never describe her as otherwise), but please err on the side of caution if you're sensitive to that. It's starring Fellow Honest, after all – he comes prepackaged with manipulation skills. He does use a bit of his UM after reader already consents, and I refer to his magic as hypnosis, playing into the fact that you're obedient to him and he can use you as he pleases. There is a MAJOR VOYEURISM theme to this. He calls you names like "good girl", "slut" and "whore". In part 1 he helps bring you to clitoral orgasm for the first time while he jerks himself off. Also a few lines of cunnilingus and some fingering. Shibari bondage starts in part 2, additional warnings will be listed there. Please let me know in the comments if I missed a warning or tag idk I haven't written something of this caliber before. ༶༶༶ 🌟 word count: 7.2k words because I'm DERANGED ༶༶༶ 🌟 song: Carousel - Melanie Martinez "And it's all fun and games... 'til somebody falls in love"
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Fellow Honest’s tail swung back and forth. He had certainly done his research, and all of that hard work would finally pay off. He watched as you entered the theme park, skulking in the shadows behind the rest of the students. You struck him as an outcast—no friends, no family. A beautiful girl from another world, with a figure that would make even the Gods themselves lust after. The only magicless human girl at the all boy’s magic college. Nothing to lose. How perfect.
“Hello, Miss…?” Fellow’s eyebrow raises as he tilts his head, leaning towards you on his cane. His calculated, fox-like eyes drink in every inch of you. Extending his right arm out to you, he welcomes your hand into his.
“Y/N,” you answer, a bit startled at his overt friendliness. Yet, you allow his white satin glove to grasp firmly around your hand. 
“What a lovely name for such a breathtaking woman.” He bows forward to kiss your hand, maintaining fierce eye contact. In one swift motion, he turns toward his amusement park, wipes his mouth clean of your touch, and proudly waves his arm in the air to show off his property. 
“Miss Y/N! Welcome to Playfulland!” he boasts. He turns back toward you, weaseling his way deeper into your personal space. “It is an incredibly rare occasion to welcome someone as beautiful as you into my humble little park.”
You dismiss his praise with a flick of your palm and a shake of your head, desperately hoping not to blush. “Oh, no need to be so modest, dear. A shape like yours could make any man fall in love. I doubt the students at the college are the only ones that appreciate it.” A sly smile is plastered on his face while his eyes continue to look you up and down with intention. Your mind runs wild as you try not to absolutely melt into his praise. “Are you sure you’re not a talking doll? It’s a marvel that a woman so flawless could exist.”
You smile softly and look to the ground, cheeks burning. You tuck a strand of hair awkwardly behind your ear, stalling for composure. How are you supposed to respond to a handsome, magnetic stranger saying all the right things? Not a single soul has spoken so highly of you since you found yourself trapped in this world, forced to attend Night Raven College. Your growing ego leaves you no choice but to soak it all in.
“Tell me, Miss Y/N. Have you ever thought about becoming a performer?” He doesn’t pause to let you answer. “Why waste your valuable early 20’s by studying and attending lectures and surrounding yourself with pathetic boys? Women as blessed as you are don’t need a degree. Surely a wealthy man can care for you far beyond a measly degree. And while you wait for him, why not fill your days with fame, riches, and adoration from performing on my stage?”
You stand in a stunned silence. This guy isn’t holding anything back, is he? Charm and charisma ooze from each syllable, making your heart race. It feels a little wrong, basking in the praise of a stranger like this. But you feel beyond lonely and underappreciated at NRC. You long to feel wanted and cared about. Why not give this attractive, complimentary man a chance?
Before you know it, the fox beastman's arms are wrapped around your torso, pulling you closer to him. "Oh, how rude I am!" he exclaims. "I haven't even given you my name."
"Allow me to properly introduce myself." With a quick spin of his heels, he steps back and bows, taking your hand once again. "The name's Fellow Honest, owner of Playfulland." He lifts his head, keeping his eyes locked on yours. "But please, you're welcome to call me whatever you'd like." He winks.
You could have sworn you felt a physical spark. Suddenly lightheaded, you pull your hand from his grasp, heart pounding in your chest. You can't take your eyes off him. You can't tell if your nervous system is trying to tell you to run towards or away from him. The longer you stare into his fire-orange eyes, the weaker your knees feel. He’s so close you can feel the heat emanating off of his body—is his perfume made of magic? 
Something inside of you urges you to step away and re-evaluate. "Uh... I should probably get back to my friends," you stammer, trying to get your legs to move. "I'm sure they're wondering where I went. Thank you for the, uh, offer, though. I’ll think about it."
Fellow's arm is suddenly around your waist yet again, his fingers pressed firmly against your lower back as he pulls you close. Your eyes widen and your breathing hitches as you make contact with his chest. You feel his lips brush against your ear, and he whispers, "I have to insist, my dear. My employees are quite skilled, but you'd be the best thing that has graced my stage in years. It would be an honor to have someone of your caliber work for me."
His proximity. His hot breath on your ear. His possessive touch digging into the soft skin of your back. You feel a familiar flutter deep in between your thighs—you like this. You want to protest, to push him away, but the electricity between you is hypnotizing. His aroma—sweet wine and fresh roses—only adds to the spell, drowning out all logic and giving way to your body’s desperate pleas to take the lead.
"I have an office inside the theater where we can discuss this further, if you'd like," he purrs, and you can feel his lips curve into a smirk against your skin. "And please, take all the time you need. You're welcome to stay the night. We have luxurious rooms available—a small taste of the lifestyle you’d have if you make the right choice. I'll have someone escort you back to campus if you change your mind."
Your eyes dart around, desperately looking for a familiar face—a way out. Where the Hell did Ace go?! What about Leona or Trey–surely your upperclassmen should have stuck around to make sure the only magically defenseless student isn’t being taken advantage of by any sexy, suspicious strangers. Not to mention the fact that you’re the only girl at school. Chivalry must be extinct in Twisted Wonderland. You feel your heart drop: maybe they never cared about you at all.
Fellow's tail flicks in excitement as he watches your expression. Your eyes are wide and panicked, and he can sense your desperation. He smothers his own smile as your body language slowly indicates defeat. How utterly effortless! He has you right where he wants you. You're his to play with, and no one is there to stop him.
"Come now, dear, it won't hurt to indulge a little," Fellow coos sweetly. Your brain short circuits, blocking all thoughts unrelated to the electrifying feeling of his slender fingers dancing along your waistline. "You're already here! Why not stay and have some fun?" His lips find their way to your neck and you let out a soft gasp as a pulsing warmth radiates from your cunt.
"Fine," you finally whisper.
Fellow chuckles victoriously against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. "I knew you’d be such a good girl." He spins you around, the sexual tension forcibly dissipating as he rips you from your lascivious thoughts and begins walking you down the cobblestone path. His hand rests on the small of your back, and his cane taps merrily against the concrete as you go. Your mind is still reeling from the shocking exchange, and you can barely match his pace as he escorts you to the grand theater. 
You stifle a blush as you hear park goers whisper amongst themselves, eyes glued on you, mouths falling open. "Who is that? Is she a celebrity?”
“She looks like a supermodel,” a woman chimes in, her tone covetous. 
Fellow would never waste an opportunity for free advertisement. He turns his head toward the group as you both keep walking. “Stick around ‘til after dark and you might just see this beauty show it all off on my grand stage!” He shouts, waving his cane in the air. 
The two of you enter the theater and Fellow wastes no time leading you up the stairs toward a private hallway. His hand never leaves your waist. You pass several doors before reaching a pair of large, heavy wooden doors, which Fellow opens with ease.
You can't help but gawk at the size of his office. A massive, ornate wooden desk sits in the middle of the room, flanked by shelves lined with books and trinkets. There's a fireplace and two plush leather couches, as well as a small bar in the corner of the room.
"Please, make yourself at home," Fellow says as he closes the door behind him. He makes his way over to the bar, grabbing a bottle of wine with two glasses. You perch on one of the leather couches and he joins you, placing the wine and glasses on the table in front of you. As you inspect his office, you can't help but feel drawn to a mannequin adorned with a gorgeous bejeweled brassiere and matching pants—if there’s enough coverage to even call them that. Your faces heat up, and you quickly turn away.
"Beautiful, isn't it? One of my favorites," Fellow says, following your gaze. "Unfortunately, no one has had the pleasure of modeling it just yet." He furrows his brows in disappointment. He pops the cork on the wine bottle and begins to pour. "Maybe tonight will be the night. How lucky for me that I have the perfect model."
Something is starting to feel very exciting about all of this. You’ve never had an opportunity to wear such a costume. After being enrolled in Night Raven College only because Crowley didn't know what else to do with you, being here is starting to feel quite freeing. And the way Fellow looks at you… you’ve never felt more attractive. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, gifting you the courage and desire to be exactly who he believes you to be.
"Would you like to try it on?"
The question catches you off guard. He's now looking smugly at you. Your cheeks flush red, but you hold eye contact.
"Wh-what?"
"The outfit, Darling," Fellow says, nodding his head toward the mannequin. "You can try it on if you'd like." You take a long sip of red wine, savoring the smooth fruitiness. It immediately goes to your head, and you can't help but down the rest of it.
"Come now, Love," Fellow says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "We both know what you want."
You stare at the outfit and then back at him. Your whole body feels like it's on fire. This is a bad idea, right? Or is it?
"Okay," you say, almost surprising yourself.
Fellow claps his hands together in delight. "Wonderful! Don't worry, I'm a gentleman—I'll look away while you get changed."
You make your way over to the mannequin, wobbling a bit from the alcohol. The bra is a dark purple while the jewels are varying shades of blue, making the whole outfit glitter like the night sky. The "pants" are a matching, dark purple lace thong, with ribbon and jewel embellishments. There is a sparkling, sheer miniskirt attached, more of an accentuation than actual coverage. You reach out to touch the fabric, marveling at how silky it feels. It's so sexy. Imagining yourself wearing it on stage in front of thousands of people, with everyone staring at you, craving you, makes you a bit wet with excitement. Maybe you do want this.
You look at Fellow one more time to ensure he’s not peeping.
Reader, take note that Fellow is, in fact, peeping—through his pocket mirror that he is blocking with his body. He’s far too good at this. 
Feeling secure, you unbutton your uniform blazer, letting it slide off your shoulders and onto the floor. You undo the buttons of your shirt next, slowly exposing your bare chest. 
Fellow bites his lip as he stares into the mirror, watching in awe as you undress. Your body is even more incredible than he could have imagined. 
You slip off your shorts and underwear next, leaving you completely naked except for your bra. Your hands fumble a bit as you unhook the costume, letting it fall to the floor. 
Fellow feels his pants tighten. 
You can feel yourself getting more aroused, the excitement of being naked in a room with a stranger—soon to show off a revealing costume—starts to go to your head. You grab the brassiere off the mannequin, throwing your arms through the loops, eager to see if you look as good in it as you hope you will. 
Fellow takes his sweet time watching in the pocket mirror. He grins, pleased with your inexperience, watching carefully so that he can see every inch of your struggle, savoring in it. “Oh, how easy this is,” he thinks.
After finally finding the right combination of hooks and clasps, you manage to get the brassiere fastened. You gasp softly, feeling the cool jewels press against your nipples through sheer fabric. You can't help but feel like it was made specially for you. The way it pulls your boobs together to create perfect, plump cleavage gives you actual pride. You shimmy the panties on next, loving the way the lacy fabric rubs against your clit as you pull the thong taut against your hips—a tingling reminder that your body is desperate for any sort of friction that may be interpreted as pleasure. You give your ass a little shake as you put on the skirt, reveling in how good the material feels as it brushes against your bare skin. Engrossed in your own experience, you’re completely unaware that you're giving Fellow quite the show. 
He can't help but lick his lips, reaching down to massage his groin through his slacks. 
You spin around and strike a pose for your imaginary crowd, feeling powerful. 
"Are you ready, my love?" Fellow asks, startling you out of your daydream. 
He pockets his mirror and adjusts the front of his pants, trying to disguise his erection as best he can.
"I'm ready."
"Show me what you've got," he says. You both turn around to face each other and he gasps, his eyes widening and mouth falling open.
"My goodness, darling," he whispers. "You're exquisite."
The way he's looking at you makes you feel like the sexiest woman alive. You take a step forward, heart pounding in your chest. Fellow stands up, taking his cane in his hand. He walks over to you and stalks circles around you, gazing up and down as though inspecting merchandise. You yelp as his cold, hard cane smacks your ass.
Finally he stops directly in front of you, meeting your gaze once again. "Oh, Darling, you're an absolute vision." He cups your cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb across your lips. He wears a sinister smile, and you feel your mouth run dry as you finally realize how sharp his fangs are. You're almost certain he can tell how turned on you are right now.
He pulls away to replenish your wine glass.
"I can't wait to see you dance, my dear. You're going to be a star." He gazes dramatically into the distance, waving his hand like he’s envisioning your name written in dazzling lights. He hands you the full glass and you gulp it down greedily, eager for the liquid courage. You don't even care that this man is a total stranger—it actually makes it hotter.
"Oh, one more thing," Fellow says. He stands up and walks over to the mannequin, opening a drawer next to it and grabbing a matching set of lacy thigh highs. He kneels down in front of you, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he slips the stockings onto your feet. He repeats the process on your other leg, taking his time to run his hands up and down your thighs.
You bite your lip and look away, feeling embarrassed by how wet you are. He's so close to where you want him to touch you, and you're not sure how much longer you can stand this before giving in and doing something you might later regret.
Fellow stands up, his hands gliding up your legs as he does. He gently grabs your chin and tilts your head up so you're forced to look at him.
"What a naughty little minx," he whispers. "You're practically dripping." He smirks, once again bearing his fangs in the process.
Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing pink.
Fellow laughs. "Oh, there's no use hiding it, love. I can smell it." He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your arousal. "It’s heavenly."
God dammit. You can't help but throw your head back in frustration from being outed so easily. Never underestimate a beastman's sense of smell.
He lets go of your chin and steps away from you. You let out a shaky breath you didn't realize you were holding.
"Don't worry, darling," he says, making his way back to the bar. "I'll make sure you're properly taken care of." He refills his glass and downs it. He doesn't know how long he's going to be able to wait until he's inside you.
You try to get back on track to a more... professional topic. "So, is this the type of outfit I would wear if I were to perform?" You try to sound as innocent as possible.
Fellow laughs a slow, deranged, almost maniacal laugh that makes your skin crawl. "Oh, no, darling. Outfits like these are reserved for the backup dancers. With the plans I have for you, you'll be wearing far less." He sets his wine glass on his desk and opens one of the drawers, pulling out a roll of thin, dark brown rope. Your heart pounds in your chest as he walks toward you, unraveling the rope as he goes.
You stumble backwards instinctively and even in your drunken haze, you start trying to take note of your surroundings and look for the exit. "Is this a joke?" you ask, trying to sound as calm as possible. "You know you don't need to tie me up if you want me to stay, right?" You try your best to reason with him and hope to God you didn’t put yourself in harm’s way.
"Oh, I'm not tying you up to get you to stay, Miss Y/N." He puts on his most pleasant and agreeable facial expression, lips contorting into an innocent cat-like smile, eyes crinkled as he feigns benevolence. "It smells to me like you'd do that all on your own. Am I correct?" He tilts his head toward you and gazes into your soul with piercing, knowing eyes. 
He makes a show of walking over to the door and opening it, waving his hand through the open air of the doorframe. "Make no mistake, I'm certainly not forcing you to stay here. You are welcome to leave right now. I'll even let you keep the outfit, if you’d like." He gives you a knowing smirk and continues to hold the door open.
You gulp, feeling the familiar heat between your thighs grow stronger. Your mind is racing, trying to think of every possible rationalization to feel safe staying—anything to get your pussy the relief it deserves. If he really was a predator—you try to reason with yourself—you'd probably be dead by now. And he was right, you do feel like you could get off, just from being tied up. Your body seems to be the decision-maker here, and it’s telling you to stay.
You shake your head at his offer. "No, I'm good."
"Wonderful," he purrs, his expression darkening. He slams the door shut and turns the lock, letting the thud of the door ricochet through your body. "Now then! The reason I am tying you up is for your performance. Just a few short hours until showtime!" He steps forward, closing the gap between you. He runs his fingertips down your bare arm, stopping to wrap them around your wrist. You shiver at his touch, your body instinctively leaning toward him, yearning for more. Your face flushes red with embarrassment and arousal. You don't understand how he's able to turn you on so easily.
"You see, my dear," Fellow begins, his voice soft and seductive, "I'm not the only one who's been watching you hungrily." You feel his hot breath on your neck as he brings his lips close to your ear. "Believe me, Doll, they're going to love what they see." He takes your hand in his and places it on the bulge in his pants. His cock throbs beneath his clothes and your eyes widen at how big he is.
"I'm not just a magician, but a master of hypnosis as well," he elucidates. 
He's never before been so forthcoming in his whole career, but there's just something about you that makes him want to be upfront. 
Truthfully, he hasn't had to use any hypnosis magic at all to persuade you. No, you wanted this on your own. Despite your innocence and reluctance—you wanted him. His cold heart skips a beat at the thought. He releases your hand and once again cups your cheek. He pushes a thumb past your lips and forces you to suck on it. A deep moan escapes his lips as the sensation of your soft tongue against his thumb runs straight to his aching loins. Removing his thumb from your mouth, he slides it down your chin, tracing your jawline before moving to your neck. You arch your back and press your body against his, feeling the tip of his thumb press along your jugular, sending chills down your spine.
"And I can assure you that by the time I'm done with you, you'll be the perfect little hypnotized whore." You shudder as his tongue traces the side of your neck—it feels so good. He continues to drag his tongue up to your ear, and you moan loudly as he suckles your earlobe. Your knees are giving out, so you wrap your arms around him for support. "That's the beauty of my magic, love. No prior experience necessary. I'll ensure you put on the show of a lifetime. Simply allow yourself to enjoy the ride." You whimper softly, unable to form coherent thoughts or speak intelligibly, too caught up in the way he's pleasuring you.
"But don't worry, Love," he says, his voice low and raspy. "You'll still remember everything when we're done."
Your head is dizzy, trying desperately to process his every word. You can't stop yourself from moaning as his hands continue to explore. As far as the current circumstances go, nothing matters, as long as he’s making you feel this damn good. He takes his time groping and squeezing wherever—and whatever—he can get his greedy hands on, relishing in the opportunity to touch your perfect frame.
Looking into your eyes, he's suddenly overcome with emotion—unusual for him. This isn't something he's ever done with his employees, but there is a twinge in his chest willing him to do it. Perhaps—just this once—he can deviate from the script. Fellow hungrily crashes his lips against yours, kissing you passionately. You melt against him, opening your mouth to grant him entry. You feel yourself losing control as he dominates your mouth, exploring every inch with his tongue. You grip onto his hair, pulling him closer. His fangs lightly graze your bottom lip and it makes you shiver. The way he kisses you is so possessive and needy, and it's driving you wild. You've never been kissed like this before. His hands travel down your body and grip your ass tightly, causing you to yelp. Your hands claw at his blue coat and green vest, desperately trying to remove his clothes so you can feel his bare skin. He growls into your mouth before breaking the kiss.
"Eager little thing, aren't you?" he murmurs against your lips.
You nod in response, gasping when he suddenly pulls away. Seeing how needy you are, he smirks, delighted at how much you want him.
"Oh, Darling. Why don't you save that for the audience?" he teases. "You're going to put on a good show for them, aren't you?"
"Yes, I'll do my best. I promise I'll make you proud," you gasp, feeling even more aroused by his words.
"That's a good girl." Fellow paces the room, circling you like a vulture. You can feel his eyes on you and can't help but squirm under his gaze. He grabs the rope from earlier, stopping right in front of you. His cane appears in his grasp, seemingly out of thin air. "Such a perfect little slut, so eager to please. I bet you'd do anything I asked you to, wouldn't you?" he asks, spinning his cane with the flick of his fingers, utilizing his hypnosis magic for the first time that day. He needs to ensure your loyalty lies with him.
"Yes." You answer without reluctance.
Fellow's cane magically disappears from his hand. "Such a good little whore." He takes a strand of your hair in his fingers and twirls it before gently tucking it behind your ear. "Now, a few more formalities before we get you ready for the stage. Shall we?" You flinch at the sound of him smacking the rope against the floor, like he's trying to command a circus animal.
Your mind is fuzzy, body practically burning with desire—you don't even notice him guiding you to his desk. He bends you over the hard wood, your breasts and stomach pressing against the cool surface. He presses his body against yours, his erection grinding between your ass cheeks, and you can't help but moan. Fellow rips off his gloves, tossing them aside. His right hand snakes around your body and reaches into your panties, his fingers rubbing against your wet clit. He slips a finger inside you—finally.
"My, my…" he whispers. "So wet for me already. You’ll look so beautiful when you're on stage for everyone to see. My precious little toy."
Your breathe heavier as he continues to fuck you with his finger, tantalizingly slow. Just as you open your mouth to beg for more, he slips his finger out of you and slams a contract on the table in front of you.
"I need you to sign this first. Standard contract," he says casually. "This is a business, after all." He drops a pen within your reach. All the while, he continues grinding against you, his clothed cock rubbing against the sheer fabric of your panties, further tantalizing your throbbing clit. "Go ahead, Darling. I can't wait to show you off."
You sign your name on the dotted line, quickly dismissing what seems to be the final roadblock in your path to pleasure. There's nothing else in your psyche than how badly you need him to fuck you. Your pussy aches with desire—you can't wait any longer. "Please. Please, fuck me," you whimper, begging him to give you what you want.
"Oh, Darling," he purrs. "All in due time."
Fellow leans in close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "I wonder how many people will come tonight just to see this pretty little body of yours?" he asks. "How many men and women will stare at you, touching themselves as you writhe in pleasure? I bet you can't wait for them to see how much of a needy little whore you are. You were born to be a star." His voice is soft and seductive as he plays on your desperation.
"Now. Let's get you out of these clothes." He expertly unhooks your bra with a single hand. With a swift yank, it falls to the floor, revealing your perfect tits, hard nipples on full display. "Beautiful. So deliciously plump and round, my flawless doll." 
You're still bent over the table as his fingers snake into the elastic waistband of your skimpy skirt and thong. He pulls it taut, ready to tear it right off of you... but he hesitates, remembering its one-of-a-kind value. Squatting slightly, he gently pulls your skirt and panties to the floor, utilizing the opportunity to bask in the aroma and view of your now-exposed pussy. He grabs your thighs where the stockings are and, quite impatient, rolls them down as his fingernails trail lines down the flesh of your legs in the process. He guides your feet out of each leg hole, revealing your full nudity. Seeing your juices glisten makes his eyes light up, mouth curling into a grin. His mouth waters and he inhales deeply, savoring your sweet scent. He can't help but lean for a taste, his tongue gliding against your folds and lapping up your essence. Your knees buckle as his warm, wet tongue explores your deprived cunt. Nothing has ever felt so good. Your entire body trembles and you cry out in pleasure. He keeps his hands firmly planted on your ass, holding you in place as he continues to lap up your pussy. It feels so good, it's almost painful. He pulls away after a moment and you whimper at the loss of contact.
"So, tell me, Love. Are you a virgin?" he asks with a sneaking suspicion. He traces his fingertips down your spine, awaiting your response.
You shudder, the feeling of his fingers on your bare skin is so tantalizing. "Yes," you answer, unable to hold back your excitement.
Fellow's eyes widen, surprised by how easy it was to get you to admit that. He smirks, continuing to caress your back. "Ah, perfect," he hums. "What a privilege it is to deflower you." He reaches for his phone on his desk and utilizes the speech to text feature to say one thing: “We’ve got a virgin.” He clicks the display off and gives you a wink. "The marketing team will start advertising for a very special show tonight. I wonder how many people will come to watch me break in a virgin? I'm sure we'll sell out! An incredibly rare specimen indeed."
His words send a chill down your spine. The thought of thousands of people watching you lose your virginity excites you even further, and you find yourself becoming increasingly aroused. Your whole body is hot—you can't help but squirm as your juices slowly drip down both legs. You shudder, picturing an entire audience getting aroused, their attention rapt on you. Just the thought of how many people will want you... all of those horny people, with their eager bodies and impatient erections at the sight of you losing your innocence. A hot sensation pools deep in your belly and your clit throbs with need. You roll your hips back toward him, wordlessly indicating your desires.
He pockets his phone, delighted that the plan is progressing so flawlessly. "Tell me, my dear, have you ever orgasmed before?" You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and you shake your head. He grins, leaning in closer, his tail swishing between his legs and up onto your throbbing clit. It tickles so good. "Have you ever touched yourself?" Your body heats up, and a wave of shyness washes over you as you attempt to suppress a groan. He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you to surrender yourself completely. "What a beautiful thing, modesty…" he muses. "Tell me, Dear. No need to be so shy." Your face is turning a dark crimson, and he's never found something so appealing in all his years.
"No. Not successfully," you answer softly. You've never been able to get yourself off. Your hands would wander as you'd lie in bed, desperate to find some sort of relief, but it never came. You've never had that pleasure before, and you were starting to think you may never experience it.
"Oh, Darling, you poor thing. I'll have to take care of that for you. I know all the tricks.” Hearing the zipper of his pants, you gasp in anticipation. He takes his cock out of his boxers and you feel the flesh of his hardened tip slide over your wet labia. He takes your hand in his and guides it to your clit, teaching you how to circle your fingers around it in the perfect motion.
"Just like that, Love," he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "You're doing so well. Doesn't that feel good?" You moan softly as he continues to guide you, his free hand on his cock, sliding up and down its length, using your never-ending juices as lubrication. He bucks his hips slightly as he starts to jerk himself off, letting out a quiet moan, teasing himself and rubbing his cock head against the sopping wet folds of your untouched pussy—knowing he has to save it if he wants a fruitful show. The way your face contorts and your lips part with desperate pleasure, he suddenly has to fight himself not to lose control and break your hymen right then and there.
Knowing that Fellow can’t help but touch himself to you amplifies the pleasure even further. Your fingers continue to dance over your clit and for the first time, it feels amazing. Every nerve in your body is electrified, your breath coming in short pants. Your hand feels like it's floating through space as he moves you like a puppet, directing your motions the way that he wants you. He rubs himself a bit faster as he watches you writhing, becoming more desperate and vocal than before. His own lust becomes insatiable. He’s sculpting you into the perfect masterpiece, just the way he likes it—his own custom sex toy.
"Just imagine all those people in the audience," he murmurs. His hand quickens on his cock and he groans. His hand over yours speeds up to match his pace, and he adds more pressure to show you exactly how to pleasure yourself. "All of those hungry eyes on you, craving every inch of you…" His hips jerk slightly and he moans, losing himself to his own dirty thoughts. Your clit is throbbing so painfully that tears begin to form at the edges of your eyes. He has never seen anyone become so intoxicated with the simple idea of him before, and you don't even realize how loud and desperate your moans and cries have become. His face flushes every time you scream his name, and your beautiful expression fills him with the greatest satisfaction, an image forever imprinted in his brain. The sight of you, so eager to please him—he knows now that he'll never let you go.
You feel yourself approaching explosion—the very first time—and your muscles tense in response. "Oh, fuck, every single one of them will be touching themselves, getting off to the sight of you, desperate to be where I am right now. And here you are, moaning my name as I prepare you, just aching for me to bring you to your first orgasm. You'll look so beautiful when I pop that sweet little cherry of yours." 
He groans and bucks his hips, jerking himself off faster and faster. Your clit throbs, ready to explode. "You want to cum, don't you, darling?" His voice is low and husky, and he pants heavily. "Cum for me, darling, cum for me. I want to hear you scream for me." Your toes curl, knees buckling in ecstasy. He guides your hand even faster over your clit. "That's it, Love, just let go." His voice is the sweet encouragement that pushes you over the edge, almost on command. You feel a strange electricity ripple through your leg muscles, a release that exceeds every single thing you thought you knew about pleasure.
Your first true orgasm rips through your body like a tornado, tearing apart any inhibitions and preconceived notions about reality. Everything around you turns bright white as euphoria sweeps through your body, wave after wave leaving you moaning and shaking uncontrollably in his arms. Your legs feel like jelly, and it becomes impossible to hold yourself up. His fingers leave yours, transferring their tight grip to your hair, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he fucks himself furiously to the sight of you. You were like putty in his hand, melting and molding according to his wishes—a perfect, brainwashed, fucked-out little slut.
Fellow lets out a strained grunt as he orgasms, painting your ass with his seed. He can't help but sigh in pleasure as he gazes lovingly at the blank and pliant expression on your face as he drains the rest of himself onto you. He sighs as his last spurts dribble from the tip of his cock, admiring how much he's marked you as his. You're still shaking and whimpering as you come down from your high, your face contorted in pleasure, your eyes glazed over and staring into nothing. You look absolutely fucked out, and he takes a moment to admire your blissful expression before finally releasing you from his grip. He gives you a small push, causing you to fall forward onto your hands. He takes a step back to admire his handiwork—your thighs are soaked with your own cum, and your ass is dripping with his.
"Such a good girl," he praises. "You did such a good job for me. You're going to be the best performer I’ve ever had. It's about time we take you to the stage to get you set up, my dear. You’re better than I could have ever imagined.” You can only gasp, too wrecked from your pleasure to respond in words. Fellow grins with satisfaction, memorizing the sight of his seed glistening all over your back, chuckling to himself as he wipes it off with a tissue. He tosses the tissue into a random corner of his office and then helps you find your footing again.
Gently lifting your chin, his gaze softens, mouth opening to form a gentle smirk. His thumb brushes against your trembling bottom lip, a caring and fond expression overtaking his features. 
Your heart leaps into your throat as you begin to question the warmth in his smile and his affectionate gaze. Is your body's chemical response misreading signals, or are you witnessing evidence that Fellow perhaps has a bit more going on than simply taking sexual interest? A new, deeper desire to understand the mysterious man behind the curtain of your own experience begins to bloom in your mind. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut as his hand cups your cheek. He leans down and places a gentle kiss on your lips and you return it, savoring the way his soft lips feel against yours. It feels so intimate, like a lover's kiss, and your heart flutters in your chest. You pull away and look into his eyes once more, trying to figure out what he's thinking, but you can't read his expression. His face is completely unreadable, granting you no indication as to whether you're making any progress in decoding him.
He takes off his coat and helps you put it on, wrapping you up to ensure your modesty is protected for your short walk to the stage. He takes your hand and guides you out of his office, your legs still shaking from climax.
You walk together in silence, hand in hand, your head still spinning as you try to process everything that just happened. You can't believe how incredible your first orgasm felt, and you're already craving another.
"What are you thinking about, Darling?"
"I'm thinking about how I’ve never felt that good before," you admit, blushing slightly.
Fellow chuckles. "That's very sweet," he says. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'll be sure to give you many more orgasms in the future." His grip on your hand tightens slightly, and you can't help but feel a sense of longing for him.
You continue walking in silence until you arrive at the stage. Fellow stops in front of the stage door and turns to face you.
"Are you ready, Love?" he asks, his voice gentle. He takes both of your hands in his and brings them to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. His carnelian gaze holds yours, his hot breath dancing across your fingers. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Your heart swells and you feel yourself melting.
You nod enthusiastically and squeeze his hands, hoping he doesn't pick up on your nervous, pounding heartbeat. "I'm ready," you affirm, gazing intently into his beautiful, half-lidded eyes, feeling braver and more confident than you have all day.
He flashes a subtle smile. "Wonderful." He gives you one last peck on the cheek before turning to open the stage door. He places his free hand on your lower back and guides you onto the stage, leading you towards the center, where the lighting crew are busy at work. He introduces you and makes a show of presenting you to the crew—holding out your arm like he would for a debutante entering a ball, a prince presenting his chosen partner to a ballroom dance. The crew whistle and holler as you walk onto the stage. All you can do is stand there with the distinct smile of a hypnotized-yet-willing participant in the world's most eccentric 18+ theater. Their ogling is the furthest thing from your mind, as your attention remains firmly rooted on the charismatic manager in your grasp.
"Sorry, Boys. This one is mine. No one can have her but me." He places his hand on the side of your arm and pulls you close to him, draping an arm over your waist possessively.
As you glance up, your breath catches and your heart skips a beat; your adoring, hungry gaze is returned by his, a mirror of your own emotions shining through in his flaming irises. There's something strange about his stare—there always is. His face betrays some of that vulnerability again, an instance where he's truly letting his guard down, a crack in his meticulous and calculated visage. It’s a warm hint of softness that signals what he said to the crew might ring true outside of these walls as well.
Fellow turns back toward the crew as a new scene is placed before them, and within a split second, he resumes his demeanor of a business-oriented gentleman. "One hour ‘til showtime. Make her shine, People! We want the audience drooling the second she gets on stage!" He holds out his hand, his cane reappearing like magic. "Have fun in makeup!" He winks at you, the flick of his head gesturing you away.
Stylists appear behind you, and you reluctantly release your hold on him. He flashes a reassuring smile as you are guided away, a bewitchingly charming smile settling onto his lips. You head backstage, and he turns to get back to business.
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Damn, if you made it all the way down here... wow. Thank you so much for spending this time with me. If you enjoyed this, that means a lot to me because this is pretty much just a self indulgent fic I started writing as soon as Fellow dropped without really knowing too much about him. I haven't begun writing part two, but I have my general ideas of where I want it to go. If you have suggestions for part two, please comment or send me an ask, I'd love to hear your thoughts! ❤️ Erica Malleleothreesome
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banj0possum · 11 months
Note
I immediately apologize for the bad English!
How does Caspian plan to keep the fem!reader underwater? Or does he have another plan? thank you, your work is very nice🛐
ill be making this gn since its a part 2 but if you want a one-off thing with a fem!reader, just request it! :3
Also sorry for the long hiatus again but here's the long awaited part 2 ! yaay you're not dead !! :D
Yandere!Siren x GN Reader Pt. 2
CW: Kidnapping, Slight Stockholm Syndrome, Non-con licking (reader is asleep), idk Caspian being a delulu icon
🌊 You wake up with a throbbing headache and a vague memory of what transpired before you blacked out.
🌊 The feeling of overwhelming pressure and deepness comes back to you, memories start to come back as you see a red mark on your arm.
🌊 You remember now, the screams and cries of your classmates ring in your ears before the memory of being dragged down to the depths hit you like a wave.
🌊 a splash of water pulled you out of your thoughts, it was then you looked around at the place you were in.
🌊 It looked like you were in a cave illuminated by algae and glowing sea creatures. the cavernous area was sandy and a bit wet with a deep pool which led to an underwater tunnel, it was the only entrance and exit to the cave from what you can see.
🌊 Behind you was a house built out of a shipwreck, the broken boards of the deck repaired with random planks and cloths.
🌊 "Honey~ I know you're a bit out of sorts right now but uhm..could you help me out a bit~?" a familiar voice echoed throughout the cave.
🌊 You gasp and instinctively stand up and back away from where the voice came from. Caspian was lying on the shore, a net full of what seems to be canned food and fish tied around his waist like a satchel.
🌊 "My treasure~! I know you're excited to explore your new home, but can you help me get to shore first~" Caspian coos as he smiles at you awkwardly, his large tail flopping on the sand.
🌊 You grab a piece of driftwood and hold it like a weapon. "D-Don't come any closer!" you yell at him nervously, afraid of what he might do after you saw his capabilities, and his sharp teeth..
🌊 "My sweet, you have nothing to worry about~! Why would I ever hurt you~? Those mean humans tried to hurt us! You'd never do that to me now would you~?" He tries to calm you down.
🌊 It takes a while for you to calm down considering how confused and scared you were, but with no way out and Caspians lack of intention to hurt you, the only thing left to do was to just sit and try to think logically about the situation.
🌊 Caspian tries to help you make sense of your little predicament, it was mostly him making an excuse to hold you close because "Am I not able to help you relax my treasure~?"
🌊 So you're in a cave after getting kidnapped brought to safety by a mermaid, how fun...
🌊 You has no choice but to accept your new lifestyle, after all, the only out was an underwater cavern, and you had no idea how deep or long it was. Caspian might not be the best at moving on land, but without him, you'd drown if you attempt to leave.
🌊 Once you told the siren that you weren't going anywhere soon unfortunately, He lit up and gave you a big, soaking wet hug. "Oh my treasure! You'll be happy here, I promise~!" He peppers your face with kisses, some making you shiver at the thought of his sharp teeth being so close to your flesh.
🌊 He'd go out every day to get food for you and him, sometimes surprising you with gifts!
🌊 He knows you like reading, so any book or parchment that he finds is immediately brought to you so you won't be so bored <3
🌊 More often than not they're too wet to actually read, but you appreciate the effort you suppose.
🌊 You also had to explain what cooking is to Caspian and that humans can't eat fish raw...and alive..
🌊 Get ready to be showered with pearls and pretty shells and treasure! Caspian is a bit picky when it comes to his own horde so anything that he considers nice but not on par with his tastes goes to you~!
🌊 He would always ask to sleep with you in your bed, and he doesn't take no for an answer.
🌊 "It's cold my treasure~! Could you warm me up~?"
🌊 "It gets so lonely in the water~ May I stay in bed with you my love~?"
🌊 "But I got all those nice things for you~!"
🌊 He would keep whining and fussing until you agree. He doesn't care at all that your sheets are all now soaked.
🌊 If you tell him to dry off first, he will! But you'll have to pay him with a kiss~
🌊 He may or may not sniff your hair while you sleep...and maybe lick your neck..
🌊 He can't get himself to sleep sometimes, he'd just watch you sleep the whole time. What can he say? You're too irresistible~!
🌊 Sometimes he'd even whisper sweet things into your ear, promising you the world if you'd let him.
🌊 More often than not, he sings you to sleep. The anxieties of never seeing your family again and living off of just fish and other sea creatures was getting to you, not to mention the many hours of being alone in a cave.
🌊 His siren song lulled you to bed every night. No matter how much you distanced yourself away from him, he was always able to calm you down with his voice.
🌊 "Hush now my dear~...You'll learn to like it here~ And one day, we'll be married and live happily ever after~ Just like in your stories~ Just you wait~..."
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firemenenthusiast · 5 months
Note
"WAIT THIS IS- WAIT we should get farleigh to fuck reader thinking he’ll get anything he wants, the whole sexgod privilege just cuz youre the one who asked for it but when hes about to cum you go “oh no no”. but farleigh turns into goo under your orders so"
OK SO I HAVE AN IDEA!! their academic rivals and have a bet going on that he gets to fuck you if he got a higher score on a test or smth?!?!? IDK I JUST HAVE A THING FOR ENEMIES FUCKING 😞😞 SUE ME
the day hath come. thank you for your request anon ! <3
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—“me or you”
academic rival! farleigh start! x fem!reader
summary: when farleigh decided that your rivalry isn’t fun enough for him, he proposes a deal
warnings: 18+, enemies to lovers, academic rivals, smut in the second half of it, sub!farleigh, porn with plot, unprotected p in v (wrap it guys), sub! farleigh, soft dom! reader, size kink, whiny whimpery farleigh, praise kink, cunnilingus, blow job, teabagging, creampie, plot twist and fluff at the end
a/n: sorry if i took too long, enjoy !
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academic validation is everything to you. you believe you’re nothing if not an overachiever. but for farleigh, it’s just an excuse for him to be contemptous towards you. everyone else in the class is obviously displeased with your feud with him, but it’s mostly just farleigh spewing vulgar insults at you. that’s just how he presents himself. you could go and ask around the campus about him-
most would comment on his attitude that he thinks he could get away with- just because he’s smart. academically smart. no one knows how he does it. its not like he spends his afternoons in the library or catching up on his studies in his free time. hell, he does the exact opposite of those things. the term party animal is a downgrade for him. the owner of the nearest pub knows him. the most elite parties on campus are known to be thrown by him.
weirdly enough, when it comes to tests and exams, he excels them like nobody else. whatever he has to do for the class doesn’t faze him. you’re pretty confident that he doesn’t even study yet somehow, he’s at the top of his class. you on the other hand, put a lot of effort to achieve your exceptionally high scores. seeing farleigh being absent for most of his class pains you, it reminds you of how bad you have to struggle while he get to trash himself. enjoy the uni life. what irks you even more is the fact that everytime he scores higher than you, he’ll make sure to flaunt it all over your face. every single time. you roll your eyes when you spot the dark curly headed figure towering almost everyone across the hall, a couple books in his hand. how pretentious. it’s not like he even reads them.
flashing a quick smirk towards you, he swiftly skips to get in front to hold the lecture hall door open. he gave everyone else before you a small smile, trying to convince them of the pure intention of his nice little gesture. “goodluck guys” his head tilted upwards for a bit, nodding at each of the students. you cant help but crack a little smile watching the boy. as you were about to step into the hall, he swings the door closed behind him.
“what the fuck ?” you blurt out, head tilted trying to look at him. “goodluck” he grins, eyebrows raised with a smug look on his face. “for the test” he continues. “for what else dumbass?” insufferable, you think. he winces mockingly at your words
the test. the one that is particularly of the toughest subject out of your course. one that you had studied your ass off for. one that farleigh couldn’t give a single fuck about and still gonna ace it. gifted son of a bitch. and you’re gonna have to sit through him making fun of you for the 2 marks difference. it’s been like this for a couple semesters now. you struggling to keep your scores high, while farleigh tease you about it. just because you give him a challenge for the top position everytime there’s a test. the first semester of the course, he scored the best in the class for the first assessment. that gave him extra unneeded ego for the next couple weeks until you beat him in other tests after. he’d acknowledged you since. he loves a pretty face that challenges him.
“yes whatever farleigh now move” you try to pay no attention to him, reaching out to pull the door yourself. he quickly adjusts his stance against the door “okay! okay-”his arms reach out to his sides, protecting the entrance.
“-i have a proposition for you”
“i dont have time for this farleigh” you really dont, the tests starting anytime now.
“hear me out first”. one of his arm is held up to convince you. you sigh, the most uninterested expression staring back at him. “you know how you always excel these tests and i always do better than you-?”. “if youre keeping me here just to ridicule me save it for after the test” you begin to move before he continues
“—so you admit i always do better ? i mean, who’s keeping the score anyways” he chuckles. your patience is getting thin. before you could move again he steps closer, towering over you. hot breath fanning over your face as he grabs your arm.
“why dont we make it more fun ?” he begins, emphasizing the last part, almost whispering into your ear. “if you score better, you get all the bragging rights and mocking pass until the next test” you begin to soften your expression, intrigued. you look up at him, eyes searching into his. he stares into you before leaning down to continue
“—and if i score better, i get to fuck you”
you ball your palms into fists at his stupid idea before shoving him to the side and storming into the lecture hall. your jaws clenching with your lips pursed shut. he’s getting out of hand if he thinks you’re just another bet felix can set him up upon. you hear him follow you before he settles in a seat rows away from you. you glance at him to see he’s already looking at you, grinning.
as you’re finishing up the final answers and re-checking the paper you’re brought back to farleigh’s proposition earlier. somehow you’re fueled with a newfound confidence that you’re gonna beat him. the test wasn’t that bad, you studied and all and there wasn’t any questions that you didn’t answer confidently. suddenly those bragging rights sound tempting. usually when you score higher than him you’d just keep it to yourself cuz whenever you do try to belittle him how he does you, he’s quicker with sharp insults that leaves you dumbfounded. a classmate once tried standing up for you after one of his rude remarks and got a disgusted look from him in return. his exact words were “who are you again ?” so you decided long ago not to indulge in his childish behaviour. but you’re getting sick of him. at this point you’d do anything to shut the raging ego of his. even if it means risking yourself
the loud sound of papers rustling and the creaking of the hall’s seats marks the end of the test, everyone’s getting up and walking towards the exit. you found yourself pushed into a corner by the crowd that seems to be chasing a leaving train. there’s no opening for you to squeeze yourself in so you decide to wait until they’re all gone. suddenly the crowd stopped and you feel a hand pulling you forward, safely getting you out of the exit with his body close behind yours. he brings you further to the nearest turn, making sure you’re out of the crowd. you look up at him, knowing it was him. you shoot him a serious look before saying,
“deal”
“wait-“ he scoffs in disbelief “really ?” he has a whole confused, disbelief look on his face. “yeah, there’s no way you’re gonna score higher, you’ve been doing what, coke all week ?” you say. “true, but i’ll come by. i always do” he shrugs before saying, “no take backs” you give him a small smile before starting to walk away. “you should smile more baby !” you hear him say from afar. his usual smug look entering your mind
the rest of next week is filled with him trying to get you flustered and nervous waiting for the result. there’s no actual reason for you to be this nervous, he’s got no chance against you this time. every class with him feels a lot longer than usual as he teases you about the deal every chance he could. telling jokes that centers you being smarter than him to the whole class got you rethinking about your decision. while you’re confident, he seems to be composed. in the class of the subject you guys had the test for, there’s a time when the professor brought up that the paper will be returned next week and you cant help but glance at farleigh. he smiles before bringing up a peace sign to his mouth, his tongue darting forward between his fingers before moving it in a licking motion. he chuckles at your reaction as you roll your eyes
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your professor offers a smile to your classmate reaching her hand out to take the paper from him. “good job, keep it up” he steps down from the last flight of stairs with his hands clasped together. “congratulations to all of you regardless of your scores, theres still time and room for improvement so keep your chin up” he positively encouraged before dismissing the class. you look down at the paper in your hands, a proud smile forcing itself onto your lips as you beam at the circled number in red at the top of it. a whopping 98 for the toughest subject you’ve ever took. satisfied is the least you’re feeling right now as the familiar busy sound of students getting ready to hit the exit floods your ears, you hear the professor calling a name. “farleigh ? please see me after class” your eyebrows furrowed seeing him mouth a “yea” while picking up his books. thats the most plain you’ve ever seen him. no smug look thrown towards you either.
from his expressions you could assume that maybe he’s dissatisfied with his score but just how bad can it be ? knowing him he could’ve taken the test drunk and still be able to score atleast an A. your eyes follow him walking towards the exit, his messenger hanging low against his hips. you were waiting for some officialization from him, saying that you won, and that you get to mock him all you want yet you’re left with nothing. i mean, you certainly won right ? he could only beat you if he scored 99 or a 100. maybe you’ll try him tomorrow.
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rubbing your eyebrows, your eyes scan the lesson material that you had just printed out for today. words stacked above another forming a paragraph that you’re hoping to find the point of. sound of footsteps entering fills the class when you feel someone tapping at the back of your seat. you turn your head back and to the front again to see farleigh walking past slowly to say, “your clock starts now nerd, next tests on the second week next month” as he points his finger at you
“heard you got a new daddy farleigh, got him to up your score ?” you’re near yelling at him who’s getting away. he pays you no attention as he flips you off. a smile appears on your face. no nasty remarks in return. so it begins. for the rest of the class you get to shut his sarcastic jokes with your own. the class is suprised to say the least that farleigh is the receiving end now. something must’ve happened they think, and most have their money on that you guys fucked. you shrug at your efforts on utitilising the mockery pass. you’d manage to catch him after class just to offer him another teasing “you know i can tutor you if you want. a one on one so maybe you can retire from being a boytoy” you beam at him. he gives you an unamused look, lips shut to hold himself from shooting a response to the joke. “maybe you should” he says, raising both his arms to quickly drop them before turning his heels and walking away. you watch him strut down the hall with a grin plastered across your face. until something hits you that the grin slowly wears off. you feel empty that he’s not shooting sarcasms back at you. you get it that this will only last until the next test and it’s part of the deal but you cant help feeling like, ‘this is it ?’. suddenly a part of you think that it would be better if he responded back. you’re used to that. you want him to banter.
so when you end up standing infront of his door you have no one else to blame but yourself.
you had asked students around the dorm halls and they all pointed to this door. sighing, you try to justify yourself for whats about to happen. “what are you doing here ?” you lower the knuckles that were about to knock, heels automatically turning to the source of the voice. he quirks an eyebrow at seeing you infront of his dorm. unfamiliar with the image cuz he’s never seen you around the building. “what are YOU doing here” youre quick to answer before realising how stupid it is. “i kinda need to be here. i live in the room just behind you” you scoff at his answer. he squints his eyes before saying, “wow, youre determined”.
“what ?”
“you came all the way here to brag about the test ?—”
“no” you stop him before continuing, “its weird that you didnt return any of my insults today” you begin. he slows down his steps, pacing around before stopping infront of you. he examines the knitted material of your cardigan, his eyes trailing to find yours. “well for one, they’re mediocre at best-“ you scoff before lightly shoving him, “fuck you”. he shrugs, eyes wandering across the hall before continuing, “—and its part of the deal sweetheart” you look down at your shoes, nodding slightly. exactly, that was the deal, you admit to yourself, ignoring the pet name. you take a deep breath as he runs his hand across the back of his neck, carefully adjusting the stray curls at the side of his head. “well if you dont have anything else, im just gonna-“ his hand moves to the side of you to grab the doorknob.
you look up at him, searching into his eyes before he notices. “unless youre here for that tutoring-“ you grab at the fabric on his chest, pulling him against you before crashing your lips onto his dark red ones. kissing at his bottom lip, he returns the kiss deeper, nose bumping against each other. he pulls away slightly, puffing hot breath before pulling you closer by your lower back. his forehead rests against yours as his mouth chases your lips, returning a deeper and more eager kiss. his hands resting low at your hips as his impatient kiss pushes you back against the door. you pull away for a moment to catch your breath when a small whine escapes his lips, his eyes still closed. he’s leaning forward trying to catch your lips to which you lean into once more. his hand move from your waist to the doorknob, twisting it before catching you from falling backwards. next thing you know you’re placed on his strangely clear study with him leaving sloppy kisses down your stomach, moving towards your clothed pussy. your cardigan and shorts lying on the floor
he looks at you through his long lashes, his large hands sprawled over your hips, smoothing over the skin. “may i ?” you nearly moan at his low voice. you nod as he mouths at your clothed cunt, nose nudging against your clit, panties almost transluscent with your wetness. you let out a breathy moan as he peppers small kisses all over the thighs caging him, slowly biting at the skin. he trails kisses until he reaches where you want him the most before pushing your panties to the side. his breath hitched as he does so, timidly licking your wet folds to have a taste. you hear him moan, your hands running through his hair to pull back the parts covering his face so you can watch him sucking at your sex. his eyes shut close savouring your taste as you hear him mumble against your folds, sending shivers down your spine. “mhm- s’good…so pretty” his hands roam from the low of your back to your stomach before trailing down to rub your clit. he pulls away for a moment to run his thumb between your folds, eyes dark as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. his bottom lip between his teeth. he dives back in with half lidded eyes before laying his tongue flat against your folds. you let out a small moan as you pull at his hair, earning a groan from him. you could feel the knot in your lower stomach getting tighter.
you push him from your pussy before getting off of his study. he follows you, getting up from the floor, cock painfully hard in his sweats forming a tent with a dark patch at the top. you curse in your head seeing the view before pushing him down onto his bed. he scoots back to lean against the wall as you climb onto his lap, pulling your shirt off you. his eyes trail downwards to look at your hardened nipples, his eyes darkened with a full blown lust before reaching up to knead at them. he kisses your nipples before putting them in his hot mouth at which you arch your back slightly, your hands pushing him forwards from the back of his head. you start to grind at his hard clothed cock as you feel the wet patch you saw earlier. he moans loudly at you grinding down especially harder on the base of his cock, sitting on his balls. steadying yourself, you grab his shoulders as you lean in to nip at his earlobes. his hand moves to grab at your hips as you rub your wet panties against his bulge while kissing at his neck, slightly biting and sucking at the skin, leaving marks. he whimpers with a slight pout when you start to slow down
“please,,”
“please what farleigh ?”
“anything- fuck! please,, take it off”
you smile at his pleas, continuing to grind on his cock, the wet patch at his tip getting bigger, spreading to the base of his cock. you arch your back slightly while moving, placing your tits at his mouth which he latches on obediently. his cock twitches as he bucks his hips upwards from the pressure. he pulls away to rest his head on your chest, head tilted downwards to watch your pussy getting his sweats wetter before throwing his head back with a long moan. “feels- feel so good- wan’ you faster” he starts stuttering words between begging you to go faster and to go slower, confused to decide what he actually wants. “does this feel good farleigh ?” you grind faster as he nods rapidly in return “dont stop- fuck, please dont stop” you could feel his cock jumping slightly and twitching, threatening to spill his load in his pants before you do just what he tells you not to. “no- baby,,” he throws his head back, strained whimper escapes his lips in defeat as you giggle. his knee buckles up involuntarily. you get off his lap, removing his hands from your hips to settle on the floor, tits pressed against the edge of the bed.
you look up at him who has the back of his hand pressed against his forehead as you graze your fingers on the outline of his cock, now completely wet with his precum and your wetness. your touches making him buck his hips, his eyes shut close as he throws his head back. you pull at his waistband slowly, pressing it down so it grazes along his achingly hard cock, earning a wince from him. “slow- slower, please,,” his hand reach yours trying to get you to be careful. you nod at him giving him what he wants, not wanting him to cum just yet. as soon as the waistband’s off his thick hard cock springs upwards, slapping his lower stomach. he’s thick, and it curves slightly upwards. placing your hand at the base, you’re suprised to see the size of him. batting your lashes at him with his cock in your hand, he gives you a smug smile
“big?”
“—average” you respond, receiving a chuckle from him
he’s the biggest you’ve had.
you swipe your thumb across his tip, collecting the precum to spread on his cock. switching hands, you begin to pump his length, your fingers barely closing around his cock. you reach down your panties with your free hand to collect your wetness before using it as lube to stroke his cock. “fuck that’s so hot-” you hear him say before letting out a loud moan when you suddenly start sucking at his tip. maintaining eye contact through your lashes, you make sure to make him watch you lay your tongue flat at the base of his length, slowly dragging it upwards. you have both your hands and your mouth working on the aching tip, slobbering his cock with your wetness, saliva and precum. stroking his cock at a steady pace you adjust your position to arch downwards, your mouth leaning into the base of his cock to lick under his balls. “ah— fuck-! mhm“ his hand fisting the sheets under him, chest heaving breathlessly. he let out a whine when you put his balls into your mouth, the warmth sending him into pure bliss. sucking at the skin, you make sure to twist at his raging red tip as you do so. you pull off with a pop to collect saliva in your mouth before spitting on his balls. just as the spit starting to trickle down you catch it with your mouth to bring it to his length. he tries to contain his moan by pursing his lips yet a weak whimper leaves his lips. he shoots you a puppy look as you continue sucking him off. you can feel his already tight balls getting tighter as his cock jumps against his lower stomach. he’s painfully hard to the point that one more lick and he’ll be cumming.
so you stop working on his cock to get on your feet. his eyes filled with tears threatening to spill down his tinted cheeks. his pretty long lashes wet from the tears pooling in his eyes, making them glossy. he looks up at you, your knees pressing against his bed before you climb onto him, your hands reaching his face to cup his cheeks. the tears in his eyes that were threatening to fall trickles down as you wipe them with your thumb. “you wanna cum farleigh ?” you ask. “yes please” “you dont look it” he blinks to clear his eyes from tears, “i want to, please- let me cum please” his hands slowly creep up your body to pull you close in his embrace. his eyes pleads into yours before you pull his head towards you letting him rest on your breast. “okay” you promise. he takes the chance to mouth at your tits. throwing your head back, you feel him suck at one of your nipple and squeezing the other with his large hand making you moan. you pull at his hair to look at him, he offers you a soft smile. probably too delirious from the pleasure to even think.
you pull him off you to quickly get off the bed, taking off your wet panties before climbing back holding it. you lean down to kiss him, his head tilted upwards to return your kiss. his sucks at your tongue until he feels your lips being replaced by a wet fabric. he moans realising that you had stuffed his mouth with your panties, aiming the wet patch directly onto his tongue before kissing the top of his head. he always has his free hands to take out the panties if he wants to. he looks down at his hard weeping cock just inches away from your pussy. he buckles his hips forward in a pathetic attempt to rub his cock against your pussy. you giggle at his action before steadying your hands on hus shoulder, looking down as you lower yourself on his cock, rubbing the tip against your clit and the length between your folds. you hear him make some mumbled sound before you pull out the panties from his mouth. strings of saliva connected to the fabric as he puffs out, catching his breath.
“just fuck me,, cant anymore-“
“you cant ?” he shakes his head
“but i thought you’re the mighty farleigh start ?” you tease him. he swallows his saliva at your words.
“not with you, no- please, just make me cum baby” the tip of his nose dusted red, his lips swollen and redder than ever. his eyes glossy with some of the remaining tears at the corner of his eyes, searching into yours as he pleads
you finally give in, grabbing his cock to position it at your sex earning a loud guttural moan from him. you let out a high pitched whine from the stretch, the slide of his cock into your pussy easy thanks to all the wetness from before. you move back and forth, grinding your clit against his pelvis before starting to ride his cock. he bites his bottom lip watching you bounce on his length, fucking yourself. the pace of your hips steady with his hands grabbing at them to guide you. farleigh throws his head back from the pleasure, his mouth hanging agape. you feel the knot in your lower stomach getting tighter, feeling waves threatening to crash down. “you close ?” he asks as he feels your pussy clench around him making it harder for him to hold back. you nod at him, trying to focus on chasing your orgasm. you feel him suddenly buckle his hips into you before you let out a high pitched moan, screaming his name. he helps you ride out your high before you hear a string of curses falling from his lips, his thrust getting sloppy. “inside, farleigh”. he looks at you to make sure he heard you right as you nod at him. you let him move your hips as he wants, using you like a fleshlight before you hear him let out a loud moan. “ah-ahh—! fuck, fuck, fuck- fuuuck,,”. the curses falling from his lips gets dragged out as you feel warm ropes of thick cum shooting inside your pussy, hitting your cervix.
he struggles to catch his breath as he carefully gets you off his lap, placing your head on his pillow before joining you. sighing, his eyes blown wife while looking up at the ceiling. he props himself on his elbow to look at you, admiring your glow. you cant help but slowly let out a laugh at what the two of you just did. he shakes his head low, also laughing before leaning down to kiss you. the kiss is more passionate and sensual, unlike before. he crawls down to look at your pussy, his cum trickling down to his sheets before he wastes no time collecting and pushing them back into you. “all good” he informs before climbing back to lie beside you as you two finish catching your breaths.
you look around, scanning his room before turning your head to look at his bedside table. you notice a familiar paper, slightly crumpled. propping yourself on your elbow, you take a closer look at it. it’s the test that makes your deal, with a circled score in red at the top of it. a 62. you quickly turn to him, he’s already looking at you, a cig in his hand and a lighter in another, ready to light it. he looks at the paper in your hand and raises his eyebrow
“what ?”
“a 62, farleigh ? seriously ?”
“yeah i purposely put the wrong answers, atleast for some part of it”
he answers you, unbothered. he purses his lips around the cig, almost lighting it as he notices that you’re still waiting for some sort of explanation. he sighs before letting his head fall back onto the pillow
“i wanted you to win” he admits. your eyebrows furrowed, clearly confused
“so you can atleast see some good in me, when im not bullying you” to which you respond,
“you could’ve just stop insulting me like a normal person”
“but then everyone will realise that i was falling for you”
your face softens at his words. his eyes roam across the ceiling, trying to avoid your eyes before he continues, “—everyone knows i dont just ‘fall’ for people” you search his face for some sort of indicator that he’s trolling you but to no avail. you both sit in silence for a moment before you lean in to kiss him. his hands reach up to your face, pushing the hair covering the side of your face away. your hand reach up to cup his face, deepening the kiss. you pull away smiling at him to which he rolls his eyes playfully.“great now you have something to tease me about”. “i like you too farleigh” you quickly cut him. he cant help the smile creeping on his face. you both continue to sit in silence drinking in each others presence.
“study date ?” you suggest
“i dont study, sweetheart”
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taglist: @june-ebgert @radioloom @fuckshitslover @szapizzapanda @themoonchildwhofell @love-me-pls
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dwaekkicidal · 5 months
Text
Shhh.....
˚ʚChan x Gn!readerɞ˚
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: inspired by chan's part in this
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: almost exactly 1k words lol (993)
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: gn!reader; nicknames: honey, pup(py), kinda pervy!3racha but chanxreader, not really bratty but super whiney reader, soft chris until he talks dirty, kinda dacryphilia?, creampie & no protection (don't be silly wrap ur willy also pee after sex pls), exhibitionism, not a warning really but I switch between calling him Chan/Channie & Chris
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: @chvnmax im so sorry (im not that ask put not normal thoughts in my head.) idk if this is actually full on corruption kink like the og post but it sent me into a pervy skz spiral
DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!
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Picture this:
Stray Kids recording day for their next comeback. You’re their cute little 9th member and they always have you do your set of lines last so that they can take their time with you. Everybody but 3racha has already returned to their assigned dorms. Changbin and Chan are sitting in the office chairs while Jisung lounges on the couch (probably asleep).
They watch in awe as you nail most of your lines until you get to one that’s a little too hard. After multiple takes not coming out well, you’re so busy moaning and groaning into the mic out of frustration that you’re chronically unaware of how crystal clear your sounds are coming out for them. Eventually it even gets to the point where you bounce in place out of pure agitation. You’re in a low-cut top and the clear view of your collarbone has the 3 men on the other side of the glass in an absolute chokehold.
“Honey.. You gotta calm down.” Chan says softly into his own mic, adjusting his dick in his pants. You pout and cross your arms across your chest, accidentally pulling your shirt lower as you toss and turn in a fit. Jisung is basically drooling from his spot on the couch and it’s honestly his breaking point. Changbin and him decide to take a 'walk' and say they’ll be back in an hour with food, while Chan says that he’ll stick back with you to help perfect your lines.
It’s all going well until you get to another bump in the recording and you complain into the mic to the point where your eyes water. With the sight of your watery doe eyes and deep pout staring at him from the other side of the glass, Chris really starts to get bothered by the tightness in his pants.
“Come out here, Pup. Let’s take a break.” He says with only pure intentions as he stands and stretches. Little to no ulterior motives while you rush out the room and throw yourself into his arms, rubbing your chest onto him and looking up at him with those pretty eyes again. Completely innocent motives until he glances down to where your bodies meet, his eyes catching a glimpse of your pretty nipples thanks to your shirt dipping even more.
Deciding that he’s had enough he closes his eyes and loudly groans before meeting your eyes again and holding a death grip onto your hips. He leads you to the couch as you look up at him with an innocent look.
“Channie..?” you ask out sweetly. You expect a response but he silently turns you around and bends you over the couch, one of your knees rest on the bottom cushions while he squishes your face into the back cushions.
“You just have to be a little brat, huh. Just can’t be a good puppy for one goddamn day.” He teases and pulls the skimpy booty shorts you wore. He pulls your underwear down to your knees before freeing himself from his stupid jeans. Wanting to skip the prep and knowing you were still loose from the events in the storage room a few hours prior, he pulls out a travel sized bottle of lube from his pocket before squirting some onto his dick.
He gives you no time to react before he rubs himself against you and thrusts into you, setting a fast pace right off the bat. The tears from earlier return and are quickly soaked up by the couch when they finally fall. You whimper apologies into the cushions as Chris lets out filthy comments from behind you.
“It’s never your fault, is it baby?”
“Always a big cry baby until Daddy stuffs his dick inside your pretty little holes.”
“Fuck.. Walk around like a little ‘innocent’ thing when in reality it’s your fault I'm this hard. Rubbing all up on me like a little slut.”
After what feels like forever of him bullying himself into you, the pair of you hear the two loudest mfers in the planet return, getting closer to the door before being stopped by a staff member. They’re right outside the door and you moan loudly into the cushion at the thought of them hearing what's happening behind the unlocked studio door just feet away from your spot on the couch. You're almost thankful for Chris’ big hand that keeps your face on the couch, but that quickly changes as he pulls you back into him by placing a hand on your collarbone. Once your back is to his chest, his hand moves up to trail along your lips. He sticks 2 fingers against your tongue as you hear him speak up from behind you.
"Shh... You want them to hear you?" you clench tightly and his hips stutter "… fuck You do, don't you?.. Yeah? You want them to join us too baby? Want them to help me fill your greedy holes?"
When you cry out into his hand and cum at the thought, he laughs into your neck before chasing his own high. You’re pulled back into reality as you hear the boys finishing up their conversation. Chris pulls out and wipes himself down with tissues, then pulls your underwear back up and smooths down your clothes before returning to his chair.  He takes his seat right as the door knob turns, and he smirks at you as the boys settle the food bags on the coffee table (oh and look at that no more tight pants for either of them lol).
“Eat up princess. You need to refuel before we continue.” Chan says with a playful look in his eyes. You blush and nod before taking bites of your meal. You watch as Changbin re-records a few adlibs and you swear you can feel something warm dripping out of you.
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gojos-fr-bae · 6 months
Text
BET
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Pairing: Bakugou x gn!reader (pls lmk if I messed something up)
Warnings: Angst to fluff. Cussing. Bakugo kinds ooc idk really but pls lmk if I missed something
Word Count: 883
A/N: Tee-hee~~, didn't see this coming did ya?
(Requests open)
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You were walking through the dorms looking for your boyfriend Bakugou, you two were supposed to go out and watch a movie. Walking through the halls, you heard his voice booming from Kaminari’s room, the door slightly ajar. You placed your hand on the doorknob with the intention of opening it when you heard your name being mentioned.
“So, how are things going with you and y/n huh? Someone asked, though from his voice you could tell it was probably Kirishima.
“That’s none of your fucking business stupid hair. And sparky! WHERE’S MY FUCKING MONEY! The deal was that I date them and you all pay me 1k!!” Bakugou shouted at Kaminari
“Oh come on, you’re still on that? That was so long ago?”
“A BET’S A FUCKING BET YOU IDIOT, I’M DATING Y/N AREN’T I? SO FUCKING GIVE ME MY MONEY! A BET’S A BET!”
“I was a bet?” you whispered softly, and yet still loudly enough for the three guys in the room to hear. They all looked up at you with mortified expressions.
“Fuck y/n-”Bakugou tried to speak up but you cut him off.
“Is that all I was to you?!! A FUCKING BET!?” It all made sense now. Bakugou had always so harsh to you and you always just assumed that it was his personality, but no. Of course not.
“Y/N please, hear me out-”
“No! FUCK NO!, WHY SHOULD I?! Bakugou did this past year mean nothing to you?! EVERYTHING WE’VE BEEN THROUGH! IT MEANS NOTHING HUH?! FUCK YOU KATSUKI BAKUGOU! FUCK YOU!””
Tears were streaming endlessly down your face as you turned around and ran to your dorm room. You could hear Bakugou running behind you but you didn’t care, slamming the door in his face.
He began to bang on your door, calling out for you but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. You ran to your bed, buried your head in your pillow and cried your guts out. You really loved him. You really, truly did.And you thought he loved you too, but it looks like you were wrong.
~
It's been a day and your phone has been blowing up with texts and missed calls from your worried friends and now ex boyfriend.
BAKUGOU
5:43 pm
Baby 
Baby please listen to me 
11:24 pm
I promise I can explain
Please just listen to me
I love you, I promise you weren't just a bet
Please Y/N, Please!
2:23 am
My love just talk to me, I can explain
Littered in between those texts were over 20 missed calls. He had filled your voicemail with begs and professions of love but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen anymore.
Just as you were shutting your phone off, you were met with frantic knocking. You were about to shout at Bakugou to go away when you were meant with the voices of his two best friends.
“ Y/N, It’s Kaminari and Kirishima, please open the door, we have something to say.” Kaminari said softly through the door.
“GO AWAY!” You shouted back, voice hoarse from all the crying.
“Y/N Please, just let us talk to you and then you can do whatever you want. We just want to fix our mistake.” 
You sighed, dragging yourself and opened the door, ready to go off on them, but were silenced by the distress on their faces. They quickly made their way into your room and you closed the door behind them.
“Please make it quick” you said in annoyance, as they began to ramble back and forth
“Ok, please just hear us out.” Kirishima started.
“So, like a while back, Bakugou had a HUGE  crush on you.”
“So we made a bet with him”
“We told him to ask and we’ll pay him” okay, now they are losing you..
“Guys wha-”
“Listen, listen, listen, we didn’t do it to embarrass you.”
“We did it because we knew he wouldn’t have the balls to ask you out otherwise.”
“But he loves you Y/N, Bakugou FUCKING loves you.”
“Things only got messed up because of the bet we made with him.”
“Right now he’s a fucking mess”
“He was crying for hours and now he’s not talking, eating…”
“He locked us out of his dorm and isn’t talking to anyone.” 
You didn’t let them finish their rant and ran to Katsuki’s drom.You started to knock but were met with silence.
“Suki, please open the door.” You heard a bunch of rustling and the door swung open violently.
Your heart broke as you looked at Bakugou. His hair was a mess and his eyes were red and swollen from all the crying. 
You leapt into his hands and hugged him tight. He wrapped his hand around you and cried. He kept on muttering apologies over and over again. It was going to be okay, you two will be okay.
BONUS!!:
You two were laying in his bed as he rested his head on your chest, listening to your heart beat.
“So…you had a crush on me~~” you asked him
“If you don’t shut up right now I will fucking murder you.” he whispered, before snuggling deeper into you.”
“Sure honey, you do that.”
He was absolutely killing those two idiots.
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Hiiiiiii~~ So I tried sum newww, let me know how you feel abt it. also, is it Bakugou or Bakugo because every time I pu Bakugo it auto corrects to Bakugou
© gojos-fr-bae
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muzaktomyears · 6 days
Text
Two of Us play notes/thoughts/Easter eggs I noticed
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they played solo Beatles tracks as waiting music before the play began so I sat there listening to ‘Monkberry Moon Delight’ with a theatreful of people which was great 
before Paul turns up John is baking(/burning) bread
John is wearing underwear under his dressing gown which obvs had to be but also my suspension of disbelief was CHALLENGED
when Paul rings up to be let in John does a little rhyme to make him prove he is who he says he is. this is not the exact wording but it went something like: "Five little boys in Hamburg did play/All through the night and all through the day/Ingrid the stripper would do anything/But who got the clap? Was it sexy Stu Sutcliffe - or the lead singer in Wings?" and then Paul has to admit it was him who got the clap
when Paul takes his shoes off he also takes his socks off - idk if this is an intentional barefoot Paul thing but it is hilarious later when they're fighting and Paul is about to leave and angrily putting his socks back on
John and Paul have Get Back era hair/beards, which is weird - presumably because they assume people going to see this will also have seen Get Back but might not know their 1976 looks as well?? idk
some of the dialogue and references have been made a bit more British - the skit they do at the piano is now set in a British greasy spoon instead (still with the American accents)
instead of fighting "like the Hatfields and McCoys" they're now fighting like "the Montagues and the Capulets" (👀)
'Sh-Boom' is played on the record player while they smoke weed (Paul uses the album cover to roll the joint)
George and Ringo both get more of a mention! Paul says that George is happy now (John replies that he's not happy, he's reincarnated). John tells Paul a story Ringo told him about going on a bus in NYC and being recognised.
"I'm the best fuck you ever had" is said by John during the fight (Paul replies "If that's your way of saying you were the real brains behind the Beatles-" etc. etc.)
"You should have married me when you had the chance" is said by John during the Yoko/losing my friend bit
"It's only me" as John's way to get Paul not to leave after the fight
when John goes out to get disguises for them Paul sits at the piano and starts playing some notes he finds there (he'd asked about them earlier and John had said they're nothing). we get a few notes of 'Now and Then' before John returns (ghjshgkhgkdshgksd who did this I HATE YOU)
the appearance of the I Love Paul badge!! John wears it on his disguise jacket and Paul asks what it says. John tells him and then Paul replies "Lucky Paul".......
they never go outside in this version - John says he'll go but then thinks better of it. this means that John comes across as even more locked away than he does in the film.
the police bit is sort of done when Paul puts on a leather hat from the disguises and pretends to be a policeman come to question John, who John then talks back at. he also yells out of the window at some police below at one point.
Paul realises they're never actually going to Luigi's, so John lays the table for him as if they're at a restaurant together (including calling him "Lady McCartney" and "my love")
the bit with the fan is sort of recreated but instead it's John asking Paul whether he truly thinks Wings at the Speed of Sound is the number 1 record in America (which obvs changes it quite a lot)
Julian is brought up - they're toasting to various people/things (ending with "Dr. Winston O'Boogie and Paul Ramon") and Paul says "to Julian" and sort of confronts John about him and how he treated him
during the toasting Paul also mentions "putting hair on a seagull's chest" which John questions and then Paul says it's something his dad used to say
I thought the lift scene/roof scene wouldn't be happening... BUT THEN a lift descended from the ceiling ❤️ the magic of theatre
the kiss still happens and idk but I thought the vibe was a bit different from the film version - less jokey (and no lines after about brushing his teeth/is my name Brian)
Paul: I bought into it that you and me didn't get along well (paraphrasing the Stephen Colbert interview)
they hug at the end of the roof conversation (I was sat very close to this since the actors come in front of the stage to do it and they were both crying and it WAS ALL TOO MUCH 😭😭)
John gets them two guitars to practice with before they go out and they sit opposite each other in chairs and Paul says “I know which one to begin with” and John says “What?” and they lean forward and then the phone rings
when Paul leaves John he’s crying and it’s like okay rip out my heart I guess
the play ends with Paul on the phone to Linda and John on the phone to Yoko, at opposite sides of the stage, and they say “I love you” to their wives but also to each other and it’s ridiculous????
yeah then ‘Give Peace a Chance’ plays which is such a bizarre choice idek
anyway who knows if it's a good play or what the actual people there thought about it because obvs I can have no rational reaction to it but I'm so glad I went to see it because someone on the writing team is one of us I SEE YOU
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first-edition · 4 months
Note
idk if this it's a good request but I've always loved Sandor/handmaid readers fics!
It could be that reader has a crush on him, so she leaves him little gifts or do favors for him in secret, like a secret admirer type of thing<3 or you can write the other way around too! The hound having a crush on reader, it all depends on you
Love your writing btw😭 so excited for Fox and the Hound next chapters💗
OF course that is sooo cute! Im so happy you like the book so far there will a ton more of exciting and sad events to happen!!
Cw- reader has hair that can be moved out of the way, fluff, Cersei is abusive when drunk, Sandor being adorable. Sandor x hand maid reader.
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Little Gift
The first time you laid eyes on the big brute of a man you fell in love. All the other handmaids were terrified of him, they hid when he walked down the halls, talked about how scary he was, and purposefully avoided him when doing daily duties, oftentimes leaving them up to you for more work. But you never minded, seeing sandor was the highlight of your day and little did you know it was his as well. 
You grew up in the palace, not as the grand princess type but as a maiden to said princesses, your mother was handmaiden to queen cersi and she taught you her ways to excel at it. Which you did. You learned how to clean a certain way on certain fabrics, you learned to cook and most importantly obey. All that time you spend learning about and admiring one person in particular. Ser Sandor Clegane. The king's guard dog, the hound, no matter what frugal name they called him he would always be sandor to you. 
Because all the other women were terrified their jobs for him were left to you. Sorting out his linens mostly as you weren't allowed in the light quarters but you made due. When you went to collect or bring them back you began leaving extras. Coin, treats from the kitchen, sometimes flowers. You've seen him throw them away sometimes but at least he noticed them. You knew that there could never be any chance with the rugged man due to his past and forceful nature but a girl can dream after all. 
You follow in the courtyard over seeing the princess Marcella talking with a sutor. You walk a hefty pace behind however not far enough to lose sight or mishear if false intentions on his part became at hand and you needed to step in. They stop their walk so you do as well making sure to give a settled amount of privacy, a group of knights in training most likely by the uniform pass you by one of them subjecting them to speak with you. 
“Excuse me ser.” you reply as you try to form a way around the larger man to continue to chaperone the princess and her caller. 
“Come on love, take the day off the little princess will be fine eh. Come and drink with us. Training is almost over.” he chuckles. Two of his friends then join into the new found joke. One of them takes a hold of the necklace you wear. 
“This is a fine thing for a maid to be wearing isn't it? Little Jewels and all. You steal it?” he huffs. 
“N-no it was my mothers! Now excuse me.” you say harshly before trying to break away. The men begin to banter, grabbing at you. 
“OI!” you hear a deep grumbly voice the men let go of you dispersing back as sandor comes into view. 
“Didnt you fucking hear her. Fuck off or i’ll use your guts as a jump rope.” he barks out at them. They hurriedly run off with the others disappearing around the corner. You look up at him about to say thank you but he simply leans down, taking a knee before standing back up, your necklace in his hand, broken from all the tussle. 
“No…” you say your heart clenching, you take it in your hands seeing the snapped chain and now misaligned holder for the jewel. 
“Y/n!” you hear marcella call to you as she takes your arm in her hand, a worried look on her face you look at her showing her your necklace. 
“Are you alright?” she asks from the commotion happening a bit ago. You nod yet still sad about the jewelry. She nods in thanks to sandor before you both head off now done for the day with her line up of men. You want to turn back and say thank you to the larger knight but before you can even open your mouth he’s farther off walking away. 
Your work continues as normal, cleaning, taking care of marcella and leaving small things for sandor. You walk to the side of the knight's quarters catching a glimpse of something that makes you double take a small vase that holds the flower you placed for him. A smile forms on your lips before you turn to walk off only to be met with the front of the very man you were smitten about. 
“My apologies, my lord, I didn't see you there.” you say gasping. He hums before walking around you but before he disappears you speak. 
“I wanted to thank you!” you exclaim. He stops his back to you briefly before turning around. 
“For?” he asks confused as to why. 
“For protecting me from the other knights, you were very brave.” you speak. He chuckles in a way that slightly puts you down. 
“Brave? A dog doesn't need courage to chase off rats. Those measly cunts aren't even knights let alone are ever gonna be.” he speaks. 
“You shouldn't do that, call yourself a dog.” you say softly looking up to him as he walks closer to you. 
“You're not a dog, you're a man.” you say. He huffs. 
“I don't scare you, do i?” he asks, kind of annoyed. You shake your head no before answering. 
“Why would you?” you ask to look up to him. 
“Hmm.” he grumbles before looking to his waist where he keeps his sword belt and others. He flips open the small saddle bag reaching into it and pulling out a necklace, your necklace, but it's fixed. 
A small happy gasp leaves your lips and a smile is placed on your face as you see the piece of jewelry. 
“Turn ‘round.” he says, seeing your arms are full with cloth. You do so at his command you feel his hand pulling your hair away before the cool metal is placed against your skin sliding up ever so to clip the back together. You smile looking down at it before turning back to him. 
“Thank you!” you happily exclaim. You're not going to question how he got it from your room or who fixed it but he did it for you. He just looks at you, his eyes scanning your features before he turns around and walks off again. 
The next few days there's been a gift at your side. Decorated clothes, little bits of jewelry, and the biggest gesture a dress which you wear to marcellas send off. You were supposed to go with her, wanting to make sure she’d be safe marrying the prince of dorne but Tyrion wouldn't let you. Stuck in the castle you remained to do things for the queen. Oftentimes she confided in you or when she was drunk hit you. You began to walk around the hall quieter, smaller, bruised even, but worst of all your gifts to sandor had ceased and he hated it. 
Cersi had cast you out after the worst treatment, even throwing scrolls and glasses at you before hitting you and throwing you out into the open battlefield during black water while she continued to drink herself silly. 
Before you knew what to do to hide you were hit by the blunt end of a sword and knocked unconscious. Found on the ground a few seconds later you were picked up onto a horse riding off. 
You came too in bed, your headache slightly as you sat up. You looked down at yourself no longer in the dress you were wearing but wrapped in a black fur, your small clothes not doing you justice to keep you modest as you moved the blanket to the side holding the fur closer to you. 
As soon as you stood your legs gave out sending you to the ground accidentally knocking over the side table you use to try and catch yourself for support. The large oak door of the room opens revealing sandor who rushes to you helping you up making sure you're not hurt any further. 
“S-sandor?” you ask as he picks you up easily and places you back onto the bed. 
“Stay.” he says before kneeling back down picking up the dropped table. You look around seeing everything about the room, the fireplace farther from the bed where it's supposed to be unlit, leaving the candles of the room to give dim light. 
“What happened where am I?” you ask. 
“Are you cold?” he asks, not answering the question. 
“No..” You say. 
“You're shaking.” he replies back before pulling the blanket back up over you. 
“Stay here.” he says before getting back up and walking out of the room. Ofcourse you dont listen and get up nonetheless this time your legs become stronger as you walk out of the room following where he was to go. As you walk through you admire the house looking around seeing a yellow and black banner with dogs on. 
You watch as Sandor walks back into the house, the door closing behind him. 
“Sandor.” you say he puts down the large animal he carries on his shoulder. 
“Where am i?” you ask. 
“Home. My home is just beside white harbor. You've been out for two days.” he says you look around once more looking at the fireplace in the main room once again not lit. 
“Aren't you cold? The fires are not lit.” you ask, seeing the sheen of frost beginning to appear on the windows. 
“I'm not going to light it, I'm fine.” he huffs. You walk over to it, grabbing the logs from the side, placing them in and beginning to strike it, creating the fire that lights the home and gives you warmth. 
He watches you the entire time fearing for both your safety and his own. “What happened?” you ask looking back at him as you sit on the furs by the fire. 
“I don't know. I saw a man with you in his arms. You were unconscious. I killed him. Took you, I assumed you didn't know him. Saw too many women being raped didnt want you too be one of them.” he says 
“Right…cersi she pushed me out i don't remember much after that.” you speak. 
“Fuck cersi, fuck jeoffry.” he huffs pickign up the animal and walking out of the room only to come back a bit later. You stand up and walk to him.
“You're welcome to stay as long as you want, it's just me and winter is coming.” he says as you nod. 
“Your dress is at the end of the bed.” he says pointing down the way. You nod but before walking over to the room you take his arm in yours pulling him down a bit and kiss his cheek. He won't admit it but the blush condoning his face was hotter than the fire. 
For the next few weeks he came more comfortable with your presence even leading to things being said and feelings being shared including a night together which neither of you are led to forget any time soon or later. He continued to give you little gifts one of which being a dog to keep you company while he was gone hunting or just out. And you of course gave him the best little gift of all after the next months, his own son. But you are by far the best gift he's received
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fuxuannie · 1 year
Text
↳ pairing : miles morales x reader
↳ synopsis : shenanigans with your favorite classmate :) (maybe even a secret crush)
↳ authors note : i'm rlly trying to expand through fandoms, plzzz don't leave i promise i still write hsrr ;o; !!!!! i'm gonna be on a LONG atsv brainrot plz <\3 wuts a proof-read idk what that iz (/j)
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MILES MORALES was the new student two years ago, some people thought he was an oddball since the first day encounter with his dad.. but you didn't really mind it honestly. You had much more important matters to attend to, like not listening to gossip.
After learning he was in some of your classes, you decided to try and get to know the guy. He seemed pretty cool, and you never passed an opportunity to know someone new.
"Morales, right?" Miles hears from behind him, it's currently lunch and so he turns his head to see you standing there with a tray in hand. "Mind if I sit with you?"
Since that day, you two hit it off like crazy, with sharing interests and hobbies it wasn't hard to talk every single day and run out of things to talk about.
"So, my Uncle Aaron took me to this crazy place like 2 years ago maybe? But yeah, it's where I did one of my first graffiti art." He explained, leading you through the dark traintracks while holding your wrist so you don't lose him in the darkness. "Sounds cool! Is it the same one that you used in your essay?"
You listen to the echo of his laughter. "Yeah, it is.. He was a great man, made me who I am today."
The way he talks fondly about his Uncle makes your heart sting a little. Though you were never able to meet him yourself, the way Miles talked about him to you made it clear he was a man who loved his nephew like he was his own son, and it was like you could emphasize with his pain of losing him.
However your thoughts are interrupted at the loud sound of a light switch turning on, illuminating the room and different graffiti art drawn on the walls. Miles laughs at your breathless expression, admiring the way your eyes seemed to glow at the art all around you.
"Heeey, look at that!" You chuckled, pointing at the 'Expectations' graffiti you brought up earlier. "You were so much shorter back then.." And Miles rolled his eyes at that comment, knowing that you were referring to the silhouette on the wall. "Very funny."
Then you realize theres a section of the wall thats covered with cloth, and he notices how you take notice of it. Miles immediately clears his throat, puts a hand behind his neck and looks at the ground. "Oh, uh.. that's a work in progress. I wouldn't want you to see i-"
Suddenly his spidey-senses go off, the second he looks up he already sees you right infront of the wall and about to touch the cover. "(name)!"
Pulling it off, it reveals a wall full of.. you? You were surprised that the details were down almost perfectly, your nose shape, your eyes and your smile. It was all so perfectly done that in a way it could either be flattering or a tiny bit creepy.
Of course, Miles being your best friend, you may or may not sketch or write about him every now and then (or rather all the time) depending on which one you felt like doing, but he didn't have to know that.
"I'm.. honored?" You laugh, looking back at your poor friend whos pulled his hoodie over his head and his hands covering his face. "Oh, come on! It's not that embarassing- And it looks good I promise!" You tried to reassure him, but the boy has no intentions on budging.
"I forgot I had that." Miles mumbled to himself, ignoring how you pull on his arm to try and get him to show himself.
At some point you've given up, and let the guy wallow in his own embarassment for a while. Your attention shifts back onto the art wall, seeing the several doodles and actual art pieces that you can only assume Miles was working on for the past 2 years you two were friends.
The much smaller doodles were your favorites, ones where he made you a tiny little creature were the cutest ones, and at some point you noticed how so many of them involved.. him. He drew tiny moments of you and him holding hands, going on walks, sharing earphones and little cliche date stuff.
You were about to say something, but are stopped at the realization Miles was right next to you while his eyes never seemed to break contact from yours. "Miles?" You say in almost a whisper, seeing how focused his gaze was on you.
"I mean, we're both smart enough to realize it.. right?"
The urge to play dumb was strong, it really was, but Miles could see through you like he was staring at glass. That's how well he knew you, and how transparent you were with him.
"And maybe I'm stupid enough to make up delusions in my head but.. do you.. feel the same?"
The question leaves you stunned, stammering to find an answer, but the serious facade Miles kept up melts at your nervous reaction. He begins to laugh, digging through his pockets and pulls out a paper you recognize all too well, it had to be either a drawing or a poem you had written for Miles and considering one of your recent ones going missing.. if what he had in his hands was that one, it gave him more than an answer.
That realization makes you gasp, and Miles' laughter only grows stronger as you've now realized what's happening in its full extent. Miles liked you, and he knew you liked him too.
"You cheeky-" You try to grab the paper from his hands, but the tall piece of shit tip-toe's just to make sure you couldn't grab it. "Whaat? What am I, hm?" He'll playfully taunt at you, still unable to control his smile as he knows that deep down you enjoyed this banter just as much as he did.
You two continue to playfully argue for a while, laughter echoing throughout the abandoned area as hours passed on and on. The talk about either ones feelings never came to light, but you two were content with the moment, and in another time you'd talk about the confusing thing that is the feelings you both mutually share.
You had all the time in the world, right? Miles Morales wasn't going anywhere.
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simphornies · 7 months
Note
Yeah im down on my knees for a part two of that teasing reader x vox, your writing gave me brainrot and its the only thing that's gonna be on my mind all night
A/N: Happy Valentine's lovely readers. Short because my brain was going insane with the imagery
Word Count: 1.3k (1,328) Content: suggestive content, eating out, mirror sex, implied creampie(s) idk I think that should be it
Tease [ Vox x Reader ] part 2 NSFW
MINORS DNI
Ever since pushing Vox to the edge with your teasing and earning a long night of fun with him. You two decided to become an official couple. Even as a couple, you found him constantly glitching whenever you messed with him. Everyday was no different besides the fact that at night, you two share the bed together. And depending on how much teasing you’ve done, you two could keep going all night.
Today was different. Vox had this urge to take you before the night came. You took quick notice of him not glitching as much at your attempts and instead tried to catch you in his arms. You decided to have a little fun with it this time.
Vox sat in his security room, paying close attention to how his new release is doing with revenue. You made your way down to him and cheerfully hugged him from behind. “Hey, Vox~” You purred.
“I was wondering how long it’d take for you to come in here.” He smiles, immediately trying to pull you onto his lap.
You dodged his hand and waved a finger in his face. “Ah ah. I want to play a game.” You smile at him mischievously, “I promise it’ll be worth your time!”
He leans back, pouting at your rejection of getting pulled on his lap. He crossed his arms, “And what is this game?” He asks.
“For the rest of the day, until night time, you aren’t allowed to touch me one bit.” You giggled at his appalled reaction, “But! I’m allowed to touch you. You just have to hold back no matter what.”
“That’s unfair!” He protested, “How am I supposed to keep my hands off of you, babe? You’re irresistible!”
“It’ll be worth it, trust me~” You grin. “It starts now!” You exclaim before inching closer to him. His hands were kept at his side as you rubbed his chest with a seductive look in your eye. Your hands trail down further and further and just before you touch his erection, you pull away. “See you later, Vox~”
“Wh—Y/N! That was such a tease!” He yelled, getting a laugh in response from you.
The rest of the day was torture for him. You did things on purpose to rile him up. In one instance, you dropped the stack of notebooks you were holding and you bent down in front of him, giving him a peek of the underwear you were wearing from underneath your skirt. You pretended to stumble back and grinded on the tent in his pants before quickly collecting everything you had dropped to file them away.
His eye twitched, systems glitched and his breath was uneven. He wanted to touch you so bad and he felt unable to hold back. He watched as you worked, humming a song while you put away files. He sighs and distracts himself on his phone.
After a long day of working and bothering Vox, he was more than ready to hold you again. He was practically counting down the minutes until night time.
You opened the door to his office, on the phone with one of the Vees. His eyes darted to you, watching you intently. You were distracted and didn’t realize how intense his gaze was on you.
20 seconds until sundown.
Your pace was unbearably slow, taking your time almost. “Velvette, I told you I’m already doing the show tomorrow! Wh—Yes. I’m going for the next one too.” You explained, groaning at her persistence. She hung up and left you in the group call with Valentino. 
10 seconds until sundown.
You leaned up against the side of Vox’s table, facing away from desperately trying to get Valentino off the call now. “I’m not filming a porno, Val. No…You’re gonna have to ask Vox about that—Wh–NO. Valentino. Goodbye.”
5.
You groaned and hung up on him. You gathered yourself and turned to look at Vox. “Hey Voxy~”
4.
Your initial smile turned into a confusion as soon as you saw a countdown on the side of his screen.
3.
“Vox, what’s that?” You bent down and leaned towards him, squinting at it.
2.
His hands remained on the chair and he was quiet as ever. You tapped his screen lightly.
1.
His hands flew up and grabbed you. Picking you up and putting you on his couch. His door locked at his command. He didn’t hesitate to touch every part of your body.
“V-Vox!” You breathed out, his wandering hands touching you everywhere but where you wanted him to. You squirmed, almost trying to get away from him to catch your breath.
He let out a low growl, pinning you in place. “I’ve been waiting all day, baby.” His hands wandered to the inside of your thighs but didn’t go any further up. He glanced at you with pleading eyes, almost begging for consent.
The sight of a strong overlord like him begging made you giggle, “Go ahead, Vox. You did the game.” You winked at him, “Go all out.”
You didn’t have to tell him twice. He practically ripped your underwear off as he stuck his tongue inside of you making you throw your head back. He didn’t slow down when you grabbed the edges of his screen while you rode his tongue. He pulled away as soon as he felt your walls tighten around him.
He stripped himself quickly, practically ripping his pants off. He flipped you on your stomach, lining himself up at your entrance. He slipped inside of you with one swift movement, your arousal making it a smooth entrance. Your breath hitched when you felt him fill you up. You didn’t hesitate to move your hips to get him going, desperate for more. His hands dug into your hips, his claws poking your skin. He fucked you into the couch with hunger, not giving you a moment to breathe. You were such a moaning mess under him you hoped his office was soundproof. Your nails dug into the fabric of his couch. You felt a knot getting tighter and tighter inside of you. “Vox-” You gasped out.
His hand grabbed your face, making you look into the mirror on the wall he had parallel to the couch. “I want to watch your pretty face when you cum on me.” He grinned with pride. His lust filled eyes pushed you to the edge, the growl in his voice ultimately snapped that knot you’ve been feeling. Your body convulsed in pleasure. You felt yourself melt into his hold, unable to keep yourself up.
He turned your head so you could face him, “You’re going to have to hold up all night, baby.” You smiled and looked back at him with a challenging look, “Get your fill in, Vox.”
Your words unlocked a stronger sense of pride within him, you felt him twitch inside of you. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”
The night was long and he definitely got his fill. You lost count of how many times you came on him but Vox counted and recorded each one. All you remember is his face as soon as he finally reached his limit, almost short-circuiting inside of you. He fell on the little space you had next to you. Before you and him could pass out to sleep, he had pulled you on his chest placing his coat over you two. You fell asleep to the feeling of him playing with your hair, too tired to say anything.
.
Vox woke up from a call and he answered it without looking.
“Vox. I’m glad you found your true fucking love but can you take your shit somewhere soundproof next time?” Velvette screamed into the phone before hanging up.
He looked down at your sleeping body, nestled up on his chest and the memories of last night hit him like a truck.
His phone rang again, this time Valentino called. “Will you both please consider that porno?”
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chrissv4mp · 3 months
Text
- I COULD CHANGE YOUR LIFE —
chap 2 , love, chris — | — ...back — | — next...
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summary: chris hangs around the plaza for a while, sneaking around the parking lot find your car and place a tracker on it. when you leave, chris knows this is all going according to plan, and you've fallen right into his trap.
pairing: stalker!chris sturniolo × singer!reader
warnings + topics: cursing, stalking, murder, weapons, blood, obsessive behavior, suggestive moments, breaking & entering, crying, arguments, chris is crazy, choking, drowning, first person, second person, etc. more than half of these topics are mentioned in later chapters.
author's note: hope u guys are enjoying this silly little story i made up in my head over the past few days. idk i just got a random boost of motivation & now here i am, writing about stalker!chris🤷‍♀️
author's note 2: yall are getting closer.......
word count: 3.5k
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"i'm here around the clock,
i'm waiting on your block."
chris' eyes dart around the parking lot, leaning against his black bike that was still locked on a metal pole. his head turns downward, looking at the phone that sat on his shaky hand.
you haven't left yet. the red dot flashed over and over again, and suddenly, chris felt dizzy. stuffing his phone back into the pocket of his sweats, he leans against the pole, taking in the surrounding area.
multiple people were around, some girls making tiktoks by their cars and others chatting with some friends. his eyes didn't land on you until he looked back at the cafe you were at earlier.
your producers hand was on your wrist, dragging you behind him as he stomped his way to your car. chris almost laughed at how mad he was, it was like jamie had a crush on you.
chris' heart dropped, and now he felt sick. he hadn't seen jamie with you at the diner, but what if jamie did have a crush on you? a larger one than chris? what if you picked jamie over chris, your 'long-time' friend?
"this is what i'm talking about!" chris squinted his eyes, hearing only half of what the taller man was saying to you.
he wasn't allowed to speak to you like that, who does he think he is? chris couldn't stop the anger that washed over him for just a moment as he watched jamie continue to drag you.
there were gonna be marks left on your perfect skin, he needed to stop or else chris would something about it. and that's not exactly how he wanted to give off his second impression.
"jamie, would you just—hey! stop and talk to me for a second!" your voice is loud, almost yelling out into the open parking lot.
some people turn their heads, curious as to what was going on, but others mind their business and continue with their day. chris leaves the metal, creeping behind a car near where you and your producer stood.
jamie huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at you expectantly, "what do we need to talk about? there's nothing to say, y/n."
you bring your hands up to your head, rubbing your temples with your fingers. you can't even look at the blond right now, he always got like this whenever he was mad. he always shut down completely.
"if you could shut your fucking mouth and listen, that would be great." you bit back, eyes darkening as you stare at the blond.
chris lets out a quiet laugh this time, amused by your sudden anger at the boy. finally, you were doing something about jamie. from what the brunette bad seen, jamie always pushed you past point of no return. he also controlled you, and chris hated that. chris hated him.
jamie only scoffed, his ears picking up a quiet sound as his head turned in the direction of where it was coming from. his head turned back towards you, and he waited.
"listen, jamie. i love you, i really do, but you can't go crazy every time some stranger looks at me for even a second. i have fans, and million of people around the world know my name, it's not unlikely that people would stare." you sigh, an exasperated smile on your face.
the blond just sighs, listening intently as you continue, "just let me live a little, sometimes. i don't need you to protect me 24/7, i can assure you i'll be okay." you say softly, stepping to him as you look into his eyes.
chris feels another pang of jealousy in his heart, and he cringes at the way jamie stares down at you. his green, lovey eyes just make chris want to puke, that's supposed to be him!
"okay," the blond finally says, biting the inside of his cheek, "let's just get you home, alright? we'll talk about work over zoom tomorrow morning."
you smile widely, and chris blushes at your perfect teeth. why did you make him feel this way? why were you the only person who made him feel this way? it seemed like no other girl could compare to you.
he watched as you walked to your car, hand on jamie's shoulder. something fell from your pocket as you turned, and chris squinted his eyes in an effort to see it clearer.
it was a heart pendant, one that he saw regularly as he scrolled through your social media accounts every night. your dad gave it to you when were younger, and then he died in a car accident.
he remembers you writing about it in your captions, writing about how special it was and how much it was worth to you. there was even a song that you wrote about your dad, one of the lines mentioning the special pendant.
the brunette looks around, making sure you're in your car before running to grab the piece of jewelry and stuffing it into the pocket of his sweatpants.
chris scurries back to his bike, unlocking it from the pole as he keeps his eyes on your black suv. the growling sound of the engine starting almost made him flinch, and he quickly jumped on his bike as you pulled out of your parking space.
he didn't care to keep his distance, either, a mistake he made in the past that got him caught. but, bikers are always close to cars. he thinks. chris is still wearing the same black fresh love hoodie from earlier, not thinking to take it off before he began to peddle.
it was another awful mistake, but the car was higher up, and you couldn't see him in your mirrors. and plus, he needed something to cover his face or you would know it was him. he wasn't gonna take that chance.
the brunette thought carefully about his plan before he suggested that him and his brothers come to the plaza. he knew, by your recent instagram post, that you were here, and that's what got the plan started.
he didn't miss a beat, mapping it out and writing notes in a small notepad he kept hidden under his bed in that black box. he also wrote some letters, declaring his love to you but not actually signing it. every time he wrote the letters, he just signed, "love, c. :)" with the creepy smiley emoji.
there were millions of guys and girls who's names started with the letter c, so he wasn't worried when he actually started sending the letters a few months back, just before his 20th birthday. chris remembers writing about how much your music saved him and how he loved you a lot, just pouring all of his feelings out onto that sheet of paper.
he wasn't sure you got it until you had posted the note on your instagram story a week after his birthday, simply just typing a red heart emoji. that only added fuel to the fire, his obsession becoming stronger over the course of those few months, and now here he was, following you around on his bike.
"but please don't call the cops,
they'll make me stop,
and i just want to talk."
your car beeped as you pressed your keys, locking the doors before making your way down the sidewalk and up the porch stairs. you typed in the code, and you couldn't stop yourself from looking around.
there was a strange feeling in your gut that you couldn't shake, and it almost felt like someone was watching you. but nobody was. you couldn't see anybody.
looking back at the door, you opened it, quickly pushing yourself in and shutting the door. you didn't forget to lock it before going over to your curtains to close them. jamie had you on edge, filling your mind with the delusion that you had a stalker, and it was getting to you. slowly.
there was a large chance that someone was following you, stalking you. it happened to almost every celebrity, but it was never the same and somehow it always seemed to shock you how many different stalker stories people had.
your eyes move from the closed curtains to the pile of letters stacked on your coffee table. a shiver ran down your spine as you walked over, sitting down on the couch as you stared nervously at the pile in front of you.
your mail always consisted of fan letters, invitations to parties, and letters from your management and pr team, and you were always surprised when you read them. surprised was an understatement, actually. if you had to use a word to really describe it, you would pick terrified.
you were always terrified when you read letters that your fans had sent you. sure, some were nice and very kind, but once you got to the bottom of the pile, they got darker. some guy even sent you a strand of his hair, the words on the letter being written in dark red.. pen?
there were splatters of the ink all over the crumpled piece of paper, and you recount throwing up a lot that night. it wasn't pen, but you wouldn't have found that out if you didn't read the p.s. at the bottom.
you knew that should've been the first sign of a stalker, but you were younger back then and didn't really think about things like that. you were a dumb teenager living life, and you wouldn't blame yourself even now.
the doorbell rang, and you jumped at the sudden noise. you quickly got to your feet, glad that you wouldn't have to deal with your mail right now, but as you approached the door, that gut feeling came back.
there was a tall, dark silhouette standing on the other side of the wooden door. the figure was blurred due to the frosted windows on either side of the entrance. you continued walking, though, hands clenching into fists incase you needed to hit the person.
the person knocked, creating a catchy pattern before retracting their hand and waiting patiently. you finally reached the door, ready to punch the person as you opened the door.
when you looked up at the person, your face softened and you became less tense. your shoulders relaxed and so did your hands as you recognized the boy.
"hi," chris smiled warmly, toying with the hem of his beige t-shirt, "sorry to come in so suddenly."
you chuckled softly, eyes traveling down his body and catching sight of his black fresh love sweats. there was a small feeling of suspicion lingering in your mind, but you ignored it. chris would never stalk you. right?
"it's okay, i wasn't really doing anything. i just got home, actually." chris nodded, and before you could speak again, he pulled something out of his pocket and held it out in front of your face.
"i suppose this belongs to you?" he asks playfully, a sly smirk on his face as he dangles the pendant between the space of your two faces.
your eyes light up at the sight of the white, heart-shaped pendant hanging in front of your face, and you hold your hands out for chris to drop it there, "oh my gosh... chris—i... where did you find this?"
chris freezes. he didn't think about an explanation before walking up to your doorstep and knocking, "oh, uhm. well, i was just walking trevor and something caught his eye. it was on the sidewalk near that plaza a few blocks away. i let trev go home with my brothers and ran here."
"i thought it looked familiar, so i went on instagram, and what do you know? the first thing that pops up is a picture of you wearing it." his explanation doesn't sound fake, and chris himself would've believed it if he wasn't the one who spoke the words. this was a bad second impression, lying right to your face. he felt shitty now, and he couldn't shake the guilt.
"thank you, chris. seriously you don't know how much this means to me." you say again. you could thank him a million times and still feel like it wasn't enough.
the brunette boy just hums in response, a smile on his face as he stares at your beautiful e/c eyes. he always seems to get lost in them, even through the screen of his phone as he watches your interviews.
you move aside, beckoning chris to come in, "come in?"
chris bites his lip, eyes moving to look to his left. he left his bike lying in some bushes a few houses away, and his hoodie was also there, "i don't know.."
"oh, come on. i have pepsi." you smile, giggling as his eyes move in your direction again. he shrugs, a smile forming on his face as he steps through the door.
when chris enters your house, his eyes dart around the place. the things placed around show him a part of your personality, and he actually feels like he's getting somewhere this time. he's making progress with your relationship.
"take a seat, i'll get you a drink." you smile, catching a glimpse of his own as you pass by him and walk into the kitchen.
the first thing you do is open the fridge, looking around before grabbing two cans of the drink chris loves the most. as you walk back into the living room, he's waiting there on the couch.
his eyes are on your mail, entertained by the small stamps on the corners of the postcards. he got easily distracted, you knew that. maybe you watched too many videos of his and paid attention to him too much.
"here," you broke the silence, your voice gentle as you took a seat next to the boy, "your favorite."
chris chuckled, his cheeks heating up as he looked over at you. your lips were such a perfect shape, and they looked so soft. he just wished he could feel them on his someday, "thanks."
your mind begins to wander as chris opens the can, the cracking sound going unnoticed as you replayed the interaction with him just a few moments ago. you never told him your address, and it sure as hell wasn't on the internet, so... how did he know where you lived? you only just met the guy a few nights ago, and you can barely even remember anything you said to him at the diner.
"hey, how'd you find out where i live?" your voice was laced with suspicion yet again, and chris almost choked on the liquid he was about to swallow.
he covers it up with a cough, placing the can down onto the coffee table before turning to look at you, "i was just walking forward, honestly, going wherever my feet took me. then, when i turned the corner i saw you walking through the door."
chris knows it's not very believable, but it's not like he has any other normal explanation. okay, but seriously... wherever his feet took him?
the brunette just wanted to leave at this point, already so close to fumbling his plan and blowing his cover. he just hoped you would take the lame excuse.
there's still a look of confusion on your face, but it's subtle, almost like you really believe him. chris would frown if you weren't looking, were you really that gullible? anybody could take advantage of you at any time, and chris didn't like that.
your eyes scanned over the papers on your table again, and chris noticed you staring longer at one in particular. it was in a black envelope. it was in chris' black envelope.
"you're scared to open it." he thinks out loud, eyes drifting off and meeting your own nervous ones, "it's okay to be afraid, y/n, but you just have to face things in life to get over them."
chris won't forget the way you look at him in awe, a small smile on your face at his gentle, reassuring words. the brunette smiles right back at you, nodding his head toward the letter for you to grab it.
and you do just that, reaching out to grab the envelope and carefully opening it. you're slow with your movements, carefully peeling the flap off to make sure you don't rip it. the brunette learns something new about you every minute. literally every minute.
after you peel the paper fully off, you grab the card from inside of it and move the envelope out of the way.
chris doesn't lean over your shoulder, and you feel safe knowing that he respects your privacy. it just goes to show that his personality isn't an act for the camera.
"what's it say?" he finally speaks, and as you look over at him, he adds, "if you're comfortable telling me."
chris already knows. he only asked the question to find your thoughts about it, and how you would react to the words written.
your eyes go back to the letter, skimming over the words written in black pen. there's doodles all over the page, just as all the other ones sent from this anonymous person, c.
dear, y/n,
i saw your interview today, and you looked as beautiful as always. i loved the part where you spoke about the deeper meanings of the songs on your new album, it really gave me more of an understanding and made me feel more connected with the songs.
i feel like we're one in the same, you know? we have a lot in common, actually. if you didn't know, i'm also big in social media, so there's a hint on my actual identity. but enough about me, i just wanted to write to you again. you're the only person who truly understands me and i can't shake the feeling that we'd be perfect together.
there's a SUPER small chance of that happening, but a guy can dream. also, i hope u like my little doodles on these letters, i draw them while listening to your songs, and they're like little references to the titles! i just thought that was super cool (like u cause ur the coolest person ever like wtf??)
but yeah! i just wanted to pop in and tell u that you looked stunning in the interview and also that you're amazing. don't forget that. you are perfect in every way, shape, and form. yes, i'd still love u if u were a bug.
love, c. :)
— (p.s. i wrote this at like 2am but drew the pictures beforehand. like weeks beforehand.)
you smiled softly, blush creeping on your face as you giggled at the last sentence. you didn't even know the guy and he was already flirting with you. and you were falling for him!
"it's a letter from a few days ago, when i was on the late night show with jimmy kimmel. this guy is just complimenting me and saying he feels an even deeper connection with my songs now that i explained some of the meanings." you explain, head turning to look at chris as you let your hands fall into your lap.
chris nods, humming as his blue eyes meet yours again. he never missed a chance to make eye contact with you because it was only for a small amount of time, and it wasn't everyday that your eyes were on his. it was everyday that his eyes were on you, and yours were on someone else.
"there's a monkey," you smile, running your fingers across the oddly smooth piece of paper. chris would never consider himself an artist, but, hey, he did an amazing job drawing that cartoon monkey.
the brunette giggles along with you, leaning closer to your body and almost touching shoulders. this was probably the closest you've been ever since that picture you took together.
"monkeys are my favorite. i had a bunch of stuffed ones whenever i was younger, thrn our house burnt down, so." chris frowns as the memory of the house fire comes back to him, and you feel a rush of sympathy for the boy.
you reach a hand out to rest on his shoulder, rubbing it in an effort to comfort him, "i'm sorry chris. no one should have to experience that."
he only smiles at you, the look of sadness completely gone now. he can't let himself be vulnerable to you just yet. he has to wait until you're his, and he hates it.
"it's okay. that was such a long time ago, i shouldn't even be thinking about it anymore." he sighs, his smile growing even wider as he finally realizes that your hand is placed on his shoulder.
you tilt your head at the boy, a small frown still on your face. chris mirrors your expression, tilting his head in the same direction, "don't give me that look, it's like you're a sad dog. c'mon, you're gonna make me sad."
your lips curve into a smile at his words, shoving him softly at his playful tone, "okay, don't ever call me a sad dog again."
chris giggles, his cheeks heating up again as he stares at your beautiful face, "but dogs are cute, i love 'em."
blush creeps onto your face, and chris' eyes widen for only a second as he realizes what he just said.
"thanks." you tease, and chris hides his face in his hands out of embarrassment.
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