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screampied · 1 month

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‘ ONE OF HIS GIRLSSSS ! ,

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. toji ends up finding out maybe his best friend's daughter isn’t so innocent after all once he walks in on you and your precious 12k viewers. he grows amused by your little side hustle as a cam girl. but actually, maybe having him as a special guest wasn’t so bad. (girl it was)

wc. 6k

warnings. fem! reader, vōyerism, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), unprotected, praise, dirty talk, squírting, cunnílingus, slight dumbification, impact play, size kink, spit.

dbf! toji masterlist

“guys, i’m serious,” you’d utter, your monitor staring right back at you — a full live audience of over twelve thousand eyes listening to you speak. you were cooped up in your room, slouching on your chair with your legs pressed together. “he’s totally real. we even almost got caught one time.”

you were referring to your dad’s best friend, toji…

just muttering his name aloud made you feel all sorts of tingles. oh, to think how that 'one time' was just about three days ago. you still remember everything like it just happened, the intoxicating taste of toji’s lips, his unforgettable loud cologne scent, how fucking mean he was, you missed him, who were you even kidding. last time you checked, him and your father went out somewhere. you didn’t bother to care where, probably fishing or something.

skimming through the plethora of donations with filthy questions, thirsty provocative questions that desperately craved your attention, you read one, “how is he in bed, oh—well,” and you squeeze your thighs before re-adjusting your screen. “he’s okay. i had to fake my orgasms a few times though, figures ‘cause he’s kinda old.”

“oh yeah?”

as if on cue, there toji stood—right outside your doorway, hands buried in his deep roots of pockets and that same unreadable expression. he’s sending you straight daggers, you crane your neck to glance at him before you panic, “uh, i’ll talk to you guys later.”

“nah keep that shit on, girl,” he shakes his head, trodding his bare feet towards you. you mentally face palm. you could have sworn he was out somewhere with your father. “just when i thought ya couldn’t get even freakier,” he mutters, and he’s now behind you—green irises peering at your monitor. the chat suddenly spams with some of your audience lusting over toji, wondering if he’s a special guest. “heyyy,” he says to the screen, his voice was a pitchy low and then you gasp once he throws an arm around you. “is he a special guest?” and then he turns to you with a sly grin. “i don’t know, princess . . am i?”

“. . . i mean i guess,” you speak, not even realizing how your tone softens a bit. this always happened, whenever you were just a few feet away from toji, you’d feel so tense. it’s officially been a week since the two of you were screwing around—you hadn’t gotten caught, at least you think you haven’t gotten caught. the thrill of it all though, it was enticing. he eyes your little set up and he’s amused more than anything. “this is the guy i was telling you guys about,” you avert your dilated pupils back towards the bright screen. “this is . . . toji.”

“heh yo,” he scoffs at the screen with a greet, seeing how your confidence fades the moment he’s in the room with you. toji leans beside you, eyeing the lewd comments before one catches his eye. “tell him to turn around. what for?”

you sheepishly grin at the webcam, knowing some of your aroused fans wanted to take a quick peek at toji’s ass. to be fair, you couldn’t exactly blame them. you stare a bit yourself, and it was definitely. . . something.

three new tips from mod gojoclitoru: girl bye he looks like he doesn’t shower

wormfucker69: he looks like the guy who works @ my cleaners lol

shokostrapdestroyer: Where’s Shoko ?????

kanyeastinfection: Soooo hawt ;)

iloveosamudazai: i miss nanamin

“how come y’er all shy? i heard what you’ve been saying ‘bout me, y’know,” toji mumbles. he stands tall, cracking his neck towards the left. his entire frame, he was always so handsome. you take a moment to glance up at him, his perfectly chiseled physique. he looked like he was about to head to the gym, he had on a simple wife beater with dingy grey sweats. his gaze he had towards you was purely tantalizing. “. . ah,” he inches closer towards you, bending down as you sat on the office chair, getting right up close to your face. “why don’t you repeat that last bit for me. you fake your orgasms with this old man?”

“i didn’t ….” you trail off, trying to come up with some excuse. suddenly, it felt hot. you felt hot.

your heart starts to race the more he stared you down. the chat was going at a much more rapid speed, it’s like your viewer count doubled the moment toji entered. then you thought—maybe this would do you some good, having him as a special guest didn’t seem so bad.

he lightly grabs your chin, making you peer straight into his eyes. “i stay away from you for three days ‘n it seems like you forgot how to act.”

toji did have a point precisely, for the last three days you basically had the entire house to yourself. him and your father went out to some business trip, you missed him though.

of course, if you tagged along you’d be sure you’d both get caught so you just offered to watch over the house. it was as if the more time you spent with toji, the more you started to feel something.

you didn’t know what it was, it was hard to put into detail, put into pure words—but you knew for certain, you didn’t wanna stop seeing him. it was spring break after all…

“i meant what i said,” you mutter.

while returning his gaze, toji’s eyes widen for a bit, off guard by your sudden switch of attitude. you had a bit of a plan, you decided if you played along, your sweet thousands of fans would eat it up. and they were, the repetitive high-pitch sounds of constant donations rang through your ears before you continue to speak. “i faked everything, toji.”

his eyes linger into you for a long time before he drags a thumb down your lip. “well shit. that so?” and his voice—it pitches a dangerous tune. you already start to feel your thighs squeeze together more tightly. “mhm,” he grunts, watching you nod your head in response. he scoffs to himself before grumbling. “maybe i should make it more real for you then.”

with such simple words, trust and believe he does.

toji’s way of making it more real was to simply have you ride his face, all in front of your audience too.

for some reason, you felt burning up coming to the sheer realization that literally all eyes were simply on you. a quick glance at your blue light monitor and the viewer count displayed a hefty whopping amount of 12,295. all you could think about it was the hefty bank you were about to make.

your legs quaver as toji’s laid flat on your old bed, having you take your seat right on his face — his breath is hot as he runs his tongue alongside your inner thighs before giving you a stare. “eyes down here, not them,” he snarls, and you moan once he spanks your pre-soaked clit, your panties still attached. “they aren’t about to fuckin’ eat you out, are they?”

“n—no,” you murmur out, looking down back at him and he slowly runs a fat thumb down your slit.

oh, you were soaked alright.

a cute little damp spot between the middle part of your underwear makes an appearance and he slides his tongue all against it. he’s so slow with it all, making sure to take his time to make you pout out for him. “toji,” you mumble, feeling your tummy sink in before you huff out a single breath. he’s still so attractive, even underneath you—a little yet nice amount of facial hair scatters near certain parts of his face. scattered specks of brief darkened hair near his sharp jaw paint his face like an empty canvas. you run a finger against his chin and he shoots you a sleazy grin. “hurry up, toji.”

dark eyes flicker back towards you before he gifts your sopping pussy a mean spank. “hurry up toji,” he mocks your tone. you melodically whimper, watching as he licks a single stripe between your covered slit. “shut the fuck up. ‘m gonna take my time with you since apparently you ‘fake’ everything.”

you couldn’t help but merely slip out a giggle, your comment really offended him in some way. obviously, you were joking though—you and toji both knew he knew how to snatch multiple orgasms out of you at once. he was quite a skilled man without question, with his tongue—his dick, literally anything.

although, you snap out of your salacious thoughts the moment you feel him latch his tongue against your folds. it took you a minute to realize your panties were already off, he practically ripped them off and he was already digging in. you whimper, hovering your weight over his face before staring at the lit up monitor.

BIGDICKKUNA: Even my domain has better camera quality than this

gojoclitoru: here sukuna go…

FOXYKITTEN2940: clean up aisle my pants >.<

you’re starting to grind against his face, a hand combing through his hair before your bite your lip. toji stares at you, dragging a thumb down your puffy slit before leaning back to spit on it. he was always such a sloppy man—no shame in the world. you’d feel yourself pulsate whenever he did that, departing his lips away from your cunt before collecting a good wad of saliva to coat your folds with such a sheeny translucent color.

squelch after squelch, undeniably you were sopping. his nose briefly prods against your nub and you whine once he finally starts to actually eat you out.

“f-fuckkk.” you’d breathe, intaking a sharp breath. sudden dizziness overtook you—a thrum escapes from your sheeny lips as you rock your hips forward. it was hypnotic, the way you move against his mouth. toji looked so pretty underneath you too. his eyes, so hooded and half lidded—such a hungry gaze, a starved animal. he starts tantalizingly slow at first, making sure to lay the flat of his tongue against your entrance before simply digging in.

side—to—side, his head continues to swiftly shift and move as he’s devouring his meal, a thumb continues to strum against your slick arousal before he starts to suck, suck, suck.

candy, a perfect way to describe your taste in toji’s humblest opinion. he could never get enough, a few long strands of his hair tickles against your thighs as he resumes his sloppy eating. “mhm. pull on it.” he says between hot breaths, and you feel a sudden fire ignite inside of you. you knew immediately he was referring to his hair. such ruffled, messy strands desperately awaiting to be tugged by your fingers.

so you do—you take a good grab, lightly yanking him forward and he grunts.

“. . harder,” he rasps, and he’s already starting to look blissed out. eyes all glazed over, you wriggle over his face before you feel a sudden shiver overtake you. you pull harder and his face goes right against your cunt. you sloppily swipe against his nose like a credit card and he smirks at you. “that’s what ‘m talking about. ride my face, girl.”

his words, his filthy vulgarly words guide you through it all.

each pulse makes you twitch even more—each breath that runs out your mouth feels like it’s going to be your last, especially with a tongue like toji’s. he makes sure not to miss a drop, slurping quite everything out of you. he was a man—not necessarily a clean one, but he was never scared of a little mess. you start to coat the bottom part of his chin with your slit, it’s glistening so much.

after a while, toji’s already drunk off of your sweetened taste. every few flicks of his tongue against your nub makes cute whimpers coo out your throat and you only tighten the grip against his hair.

“r-right there, ‘s good when you suck there, toji.”

“cause i know what the fuck ‘m doing.” he grumbles back, bringing his same thumb to slide down your slit. he repeats it again and again. smearing your own mess right back on you, only to clean it up. he was a messy man, and with a tasty pussy that you had—you only made him ten times messier.

he was never one to complain though, toji’s the type to never say thank you—he shows you how grateful he is, it involves with being between your legs.

toji fushiguro…

a sleazy man without a single care in the word, maybe messing around his with best friend’s daughter slash colleague was a bit taboo. but did he care—no, was he gonna stop doing it—no, was he perhaps catching feelings for you the more time he spends with you? were you catching feelings?

. . .

unanswered questions, even if you asked yourself that question, you honestly couldn’t even know how to reply. the two of you never really labeled anything, so this was just a simple spring break fling right?

once courses resume and you go back to your well prestige university your father got you into due to connections, that’d probably be the last you’d see of him. toji fushiguro, the man you’ve been screwing around with for the past almost two weeks. it’s almost safe to say that you started to get attached to his presence—sometimes it’s like the two of you didn’t even care if you got caught. there was literally a time where toji fingered you under the table during dinner.

that was . . embarrassing.

the way you were trying to withhold a conversation with your father—he’s just rambling you about what a boring day he had at the office and you’re over here gushing on his best friend’s fingers. you find yourself thinking about that specific moment all too well—as well as the various other ones, him fucking you on the hood of his car, in the living room, and even the bathroom—which your panties ended up getting found.

oops.

“told you to keep those fuckin’ eyes on me,” he hoarsely rasps—snapping you out of your lewd reminiscing fantasm. his tongue, it’s swirling all against your clit as you focus your attention back towards him. with two big hands, he holds your jerky hips steady—feeling you rut against his mouth before he feels you pulse right in his mouth. “yeah.” he mutters, bringing two digits to prod towards your slick entrance. you whine, feeling him slowly insert them with ease—so wet, he was almost in awe at how you were dripping like a faucet. not even a faucet could compare nor describe how sodden your sweet cunt was. each lap he makes with his tongue gets more filthy, it turns into sucking before you’re practically spasming all over again.

you moan, hands still tight and rigidly tangled within his strands before you take a quick peek at your laptop. so many eyes were on you—so many more eyes now, the count was steadily doubling, the donations you were receiving made your mouth nearly water. tip after tip, your pupils turned into green dollar signs. this was probably the most viewers you had in the entirety of your little cam girl side hustle.

all thanks to toji.

you’re getting close, it’s inevitable—especially with the way your hips continue to rock back and forth. a cute rhythm he got accustomed to, toji brings two rough hands towards the fat mounds of your ass before squeezing it. he was always a handsy man, feeling all over your body. green pools of eyes stare right at you as you’re intaking each staggering breath that escapes your spit-glossed lips. “c-close, toji,” you’d babble out, your knees almost buckle—a sudden twinge pouring into your lower abdomen before you mewl. “gonna—cum, gonna—”

“baby hold it,” he says sternly, the base in his voice never failing to make you wet. he breaks his lips away for a moment before he glances at the screen—an upside down position. “hm. chat, should the pretty girl finish early?”

your heart drops—you knew how many trolls you had in your audience, and before you could cutely tell him to just let you climax, he hums in amusement at the incoming flood of comments.

chososbootylicker29: Petition to have Toji oiled and cheeked up

zorosballswallower: NOOOOO

anonymoususer: dad?

gojoclitoru: lol no.

and with many others the comments continue to flood.

majority of the answers being no—you hated being edged, loathed it. especially with toji because he was so damn mean. he snickers, reading the responses upside down before you feel the two tips of his fingers shove way deep inside you. your back arches and you whine ore he holds your hips in place with a single hand. “looks like y’er little fans want you to wait pretty girl,” and you look down at him with a cute glare—his lips depart and his entire mouth from the very bottom of his chin was damp. even still, he looked so attractive. “cute. a glare ain’t gonna change nothing though,” and a pout shortly stretched against your lips as he runs his tongue near your frantic pulsing clit. he brings a spank to it and it makes you whine. “be a good girl ‘n wait a little longer.”

“i can’t,” you frown out, and that only earns another sharp spank towards your folds.

“yes you fuckin’ can,” and you start to whine once he stops eating you out. it felt so warm, all of a sudden the cold air wafts against your skin and you shudder. toji loves more than anything to spank your pussy whilst staring right into your eyes. “if i tell my girl to wait, she’s gonna wait.”

my girl…

for some reason, that made your pulsing ten times worse, a plethora of butterflies arise inside your stomach and you’re still just hovering over his face.

he palpates his fingers—not his tongue to rummage all inside your cunt, you frown cutely. you wanted his tongue, not his stubby thick fingers. although, the thing you wanted most was to finish. as you grind against his face, you feel his infamous scar run against your pussy and it tickles. it tickles in such a way that it drags out a sweet crying moan from you.

“t—toji,” you start to grow impatient. he’s just teasing you, blowing against your folds with warm breath, swiping his nose alongside your sopping entrance, anything but tasting you again. he likes seeing you like this, on the brink of tears because you got denied a climax. it started to come closer and closer until once it was finally there—you puff up your cheeks for a split second before moaning. “g-god, i can’t hold it. ‘m gonna cummm.”

“wait,” he utters in a husky rasp, watching as you quaveringly hover over his face—chin just soaked with your arousal, he licks the bottom of his lip before tittering at you. “you finish when i’m ready.”

“f-fuck you,” you whimper, and you end up cumming anyway—he’s taken aback but it only arouses him even more. the brat, oh the brat that you were. one of the many things he liked about you, you were submissive but not entirely—you had a backbone, you talked back to him, you even had the nerve to roll those pretty eyes at him.

it hits you like a semi-truck.

illegal full speed, the brakes were had to step on and you feel it just strike right into you at full force. your orgasm, you scoot your hips forward against his mouth and now he’s the one glaring at you. toji laps up all of you, two fingers spreading your clit apart before he spits on it again. “you just don’t listen, huh,” and his voice was even lower than it was before—a rich baritone lingering underneath it. you’re riding out your climax when he lightly shoves you on the bed.

in your mind, you’re thinking . .

finally, the good part.

toji grimaces at the cute smile that goes against your lips. you’re eager just as him— not to mention, it’s been three days since he’s touched you. “don’t get too excited, brat,” he grumbles with a scowl tugging the corners of his mouth. he plops onto the bed before staring down at you. “bend the fuck over for me. fake orgasm my ass.”

so blunt, you immensely comply—so impatient for him to just be inside of you.

the piles of donations triple by this point, and you try to take a peep at your screen before he spanks your ass. “ass up, face down little girl. don’t got all day.”

“sorryyy,” you giggle with a mere eye roll.

testing toji’s patience was always so fun for you. for whatever reason, getting on his nerves really turned you on. once you finally bend over for him, two hands grab the fats of your ass and you bite your lip once he prepares to align himself. you’re facing your bright lit screen.

the comments talking more about toji than you and you pout . . . figures though. he’s hot, no wonder all the attention would be on him instead of you.

with his right hand, he wraps it around his thick length before rubbing his tip against your pre-drenched entrance. he grunts, witnessing how your pussy tries to swallow him so easily…

you’re puckering, awaiting for him to stuff you full as you’re slump right into the mattress. “but sweetheart, y’er not sorry,” he grunts, smacking his fat tip against your slick folds. a soft mewl runs out the back of your throat before you arch just a bit more. with another spank, he snarls in a huff, “not gonna fuck ya that easy. y’er gonna have to use those manners if you wanna get what you want.”

“huh?”

“huh?” he mocks, kissing your ass with another spank from his palm. “you can’t hear? speak, girl. talk ‘ta me nice.”

glossy eyes of yours avert towards your screen, everyone’s lusting over toji and it only fuels his ego even more—you easily felt yourself throb, a pout never leaving your lips before you inhale.

“please . . ” you start, feeling him softly drag a hand against your curves, your physique. his touch always had you weak, taking in every part of your frame. all his . . just for these few weeks.

“please what?”

“please f—fuck me,” you grumble, and you’re growing more and more irritated—he hums to himself, amused. each second you spend speaking, each second he could be inside of you. you and him both knew that.

toji rubs his leaky tip with a bit more pressure against your pussy, just a a little more and he’d be inside. you started to feel your mouth salivate before you start to whine. “hm,” he ponders to himself, green eyes occasionally staring at the laptop that had about hundreds of comments spamming per second. “fine. i feel like bein’ nice to you today, especially since i haven’t seen my girl in a hot minute,” and again, he refers to you as his girl. it sends an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies brewing up in your stomach before he spanks you for probably the umpteenth time now. “now, arch a liiiitle more ‘n stare at your fans for me, yeah.”

you’re propped on the mattress with your ass all up in the air. from your screen as you stare at it, you spot toji’s mirroring reflection. that sly smile that slowly and gradually forms against his lips.

“lie the fuck down.” he mutters, feeling you try to sit up. you do, intaking a single breath before you feel him huff out a low puff. toji’s eyes stare right at your ass, he takes every moment in. the way you suck him in, it’s just filthy. the saturated squelches that shortly follow afterward—so filthy.

a six letter word to perfectly describe this entire situation.

arched over for your dad’s best friend, who would have thought—not you, not in a million years.

“ . . . shit,” he pants, and you’re so wet. you moan, pawing at the fat silk sheets in front of you. so many flooded comments of your audience merely thirsting over toji, wishing desperately that they were in your position. ( . . quite literally . . )

and toji’s just so fucking big.

he’s got a lofty height of inches under his belt.

metaphorically speaking—just a single sharp thrust and you’re speechless.

the wind gets snatched out of your lungs and it’s so vigorous that your head’s spinning. this entire angle, he’s got you right where he wants you—on all fours with your ass perked up. toji can’t keep his hands to himself anyway, his hands roam all over your waist before holding both hips in place. clammy hands just about stick to your skin before he starts to create a decent pace.

a slow pace — a slow pace that turns more mean.

languidly, you feel yourself leaning to his touch as he runs a hand down your spine.

toji brings one leg up to deepen the position and not even moments later, your lips part.

“t—toji . . ah ah,” and you don’t even recognize yourself. he repositions himself for a split second, making haste with his hips before sliding his feet right past your knees. with this, it’s more stimulation and you feel it all. just the right amount of pressure, his balls sharply thwack against your ass and it makes your mind cloud up with fuzz.

“. . damn,” he groans, a hand grabbing towards the back of your university hoodie. as he leans forward, dark viridescent colored pupils stare at your rear. the way it jerks and recoils against him, everytime . . it’s the best part. even more when he spanks it, deepening his hips against your cunt to earn out a cute whine or two from you. for what seemed like the millionth time, toji kisses the right cheek of your ass with various spanks. the sting has you gnawing on your lip like it’s candy, curling your toes up with a few droplets of sweat coating the bridge of your nose. “missed this pussy, three days too fuckin’ long, brat.”

“i missed you t—.”

“girl hello? i wasn’t talking to you.”

you frown, and it follows from a snicker from him.

“. . . so dramatic,” he’d eye roll once he hears you blow out a cute sigh. “fine, i did miss you,” and that was only a half lie. you knew in actuality, he missed what’s between your legs. toji still remained sassy as usual, it never left and it’d always stay. he’s buried all into you, deep to the hilt that each time his angry reddened tip drives against that spot, you squeal out in sweet pleasure.

it didn’t take him long to locate it, your g-spot. after a while you start to feel your pussy open, spreading wide—gaping. he was so ridiculously big, it’s leaving such question marks floating over your forehead because how can someone be this thick.

with a gruff—toji groans, veins bulging through his veins as he yanks your hoodie forward into him. he’s lenient, at least for a good while. letting you have your fun, get drunk off his cock before he edges you a more . . . oh just maybe.

gojoclitoru: does anyone want the link to my only fans :(

willbang4curses: Idk who I wanna be more…

iamnotsugurugetoseriouslyiamnothim: i want your only fans @/gojoclitoru

hotpeach03: Toji please I’m a single mom

your chat continues to spate, it’s so much that as your eyes watch them all flood down the logs, you could barely read the words.

he’s so deep inside, you’re almost drooling.

the stretch—he always leaves you so full, lips all parted and that same gaping mouth opening. pant after pant, you’re heaving heavily with your chest feeling tight and warm. “so deep,” you’d shriek, and he makes your arch lower just a bit further. he’s hitting all the right spots, not missing a single area. his dick retreats as it pulls out, then back again—twitching all inside of your cunt, he lunges forward with his hips before making you plop on your chest. “. . . .ohmygodohmygoddd,” and you were so whiney, you still can’t believe such pathetic noises slither past your damp lips. engulfed with your warm gummy walls squeezing him tight, he spanks you again . . . and again, and again.

“miss me that bad, huh?” he starts to speak. his voice was a pitchy rasp. a gruff base hides underneath it and you can hear the grit lingering like he needs to clear his throat. nevertheless, you throb anyway as he’s jackhammering his cock right into your swollen cunt over, and over, and over. “that why ya keep walkin’ around with these outfits? with no fuckin’ panties underneath, yeah?”

“forgot,” you whimper, shuddering once you feel toji grow playful. he trails his thumb towards your neglected puckering hole, fiddling with it just to get a reaction out of you, and he does. “s-sorry, ‘m sorry.”

“you don’t just forget to put panties on, slut,” he groans, and he feels himself approaching soon. it’s at the tip of his tongue—he feels the burn arise in the lower parts of his thighs, veins contouring to bulge all throughout his body. “wonder what y’er old man would think. ya only pull this shit ‘cause ‘s just you ‘n me here.”

he was right.

then again—if you’d have your father here, you’d never pull a bold stunt like that.

you’d rather drop dead than save yourself the embarrassment. funny though, considering the amount of times you almost got caught.

“so . . ” you mumble, and that’s when he presses his weight right against you this time. ah, prone bone.

you were really in for it now, thickly you swallow before his weight merely hovers over your ass, really deep in you this time.

he vigorously rams his thick cock into your sweltering cunt that’s hugging him oh so tight. he’s such a tease too—using every few chances he gets to poke and gingerly rub a thumb against your pulsating hole.

sweet moans die from your throat as you’re clinging onto the bed—such force that the springs nearly collapse from the whopping amounts of weight creating sheer impact. each thrust, it rings rapidly throughout your ears before toji groans. “f—fuck,” he’d groan, ignoring your little attempts of pure bratiness. you were at your wits end, smothering your glossed lips together before you feel his rounded cockhead mash against your most forbidden spots. spots that was so deep inside the inner areas of your cunt that it makes you mewl out in pure ecstasy. “gonna make me fill you up, princess,” he huffs out, tugging even tighter on the bottom part of your cerulean blue pull over. “s—shit,” and his gruff voice pitches time and time again. for a moment, you think you can hear toji whimper. it was real subtle though, but you heard it. loud and clearly. “gonna take it like you always do?”

“yesyesyes,” you nod—words pouring out of your lips like a waterfall, kneading your fingers into your palms as you bawled up the bedsheets right into your hands. with hooded droopy eyes, you stare at the screen with a dumb expression—he then takes the opportunity to get closer, grabbing you by the hair before holding your head up in front of your thousands of viewers.

“yes what, girl.”

you whine, feeling how perfectly his dick mashed throughout your folds—so easy for him, he was so thick that the stretch was simply immaculate.

“yesss, ‘m gonna take your c-cum, toji,” you’d pant, feeling your own eyes roll backwards—you probably looked a mess in front of your own thirteen thousand viewers, but you could care less. all that your empty brain could fathom was how you were ludicrously stuffed with his hefty cock. he’s drilling into you so good that that it almost feels like a massage. rough fingers run down your spine with one hand, another holding your head by the hair like it’s a prized possession before you whimper. “fuck me, fuck me, fuh—”

toji slaps a hand over your mouth the minute he hears something from downstairs—sure enough, it had to be your father.

shit.

he must have came home early. you remember him mentioning to you he was taking a trip to the corner store after work, probably to get some booze for him and toji to enjoy for some dumb football game.

“honeyyy? you up there?”

you moan, almost feeling your eyelids grow heavy as he’s still holding your head up in front of your laptop—his reflection in the screen just pounding into you at full speed.

already, you’re coating the back of his hand with nothing but your damp saliva—such a dirty girl, preferably his dirty girl.

maybe you were a bit delusional, no. you were very delusional—maybe this could go somewhere? then. again, it was no secret on how toji’s only around to get his dick wet, a reality that you forevermore choose to ignore—until you’d soon find out how that would bite you in the ass later on.

dead silence—you’re just muffling out mewls right into his mouth, and as if on cue, toji ends up finishing inside of you. it’s so much, velvety ropes of hot nut that fill the very insides of your pussy, shooting straight into your womb that your tummy flutters. it’s so much to where it spews out of your hole, he’s gotta poke his thumb in and swipe some out with the way it continues to leak. it’s so dirty, then again—toji fushiguro was a dirty man, the dirtiest.

“are ya gonna reply ‘n let y’er old man know you’re getting off his best friend’s cock or . . ?”

his words, such a tease that he’s still slowly pumping into you. gradually but slow, he plugs into your walls—seeping with cum that oozes out of your folds and you stare at the screen with a cute cock-drunken expression. “mmph,” was your reply, the only reply you could formulate since his big hand almost covered your entire face. so you give him a concise nod, hooded eyes feeling dry from staring at the screen for so many amount of minutes.

eventually, your father leaves and returns back to what he was doing . . . phew.

“that’s right,” he whispers in a low risqué tone, bringing a kiss towards the left part of your neck.

so tender—you’re gathering the strength to sit up but you end up slumping forward. with a pathetic, ‘oof’ you land on your chest, your own climax at the very edge. it’s cute because you end up finishing around the same time—your chest feels heavy, lungs tightly collapsing and all. the perfect way to describe your orgasm was a bomb—a bomb that was ticking and ticking, preparing to detonate before it finally does. instead, the destruction was you squirting, all over toji’s dick that stuffed you full. he’s so close up to your ear, hot breath fanning against your earlobe before he continues to speak. “. . oh, y’er fuckin’ dumb right now, aren’t ya. can barely speak.” and he removes his hand to where a trail of your spit departs. so lewd, you’re spasming from your recent release before with a quick glance—you stare at your monitor. you surpassed your tip goal by a huge milestone, yet like toji said—you were too dumb to even process let alone acknowledge it.

“t—toji,” you whimper, feeling the remnants of his sweet and savory seed pour down the crevices of your thighs. it was sticky, sticking to your skin like glue, sweltering of its entirety.

“come here, princess.”

it surprised you. for once, he was being . . . soft.

you reach backwards, closing your laptop before leaning right into toji. you moan, feeling his beefy ripped arms wrap around you, bringing you right into his embrace. bulky arms go around your waist and he pulls you into a sloppily heated kiss.

simultaneously, your heart skips a few beats—a few, probably an understatement. he tastes sweet, you could make out a brief tang of liquor on his tongue—a taste you didn’t want to ever forget. as your tongue rummages against his, you moan once he gets a bit handsy, a hand going right between your legs to feel the mess he made. the mess you made yourself also.

breathy pants could be heard from your lips as you press your dampish perspiring hands all on his bare chest. he’s wearing a somewhat of a formal shirt — you tug on his collar, yearning for him to come closer, to touch you more, hold you more. something, whatever it was was just brewing up inside of the very depths, the very pits of your stomach.

toji groans, the warmth of his breath wafting against yours before he pulls you away to get a good glimpse of you. a big hand holds your waist, and his eyes peer into you for a long time before as if he hesitates—he kisses the top of your forehead, only to stare away with a scowl.

“. . . toji,” you murmur, and by this point you weren’t speaking with your brain—more so with your heart. it was apparent, especially with the way your droopy hooded eyes suddenly soften the moment you speak out the two syllables in his name.

“let me speak first.” he grouses, a thumb stringing alongside your back, gently strumming against your skin. with the way you gazed at him, making him lie back before aligning yourself, it was clear as day that you wanted more of him. he leans back, long strands of black hair run down his face with his legs sprawled before he prepares to finish.

you straddle him, sitting flat on his lap and he’s so warm—he’s a bit flustered, flaccid from his release and of course a bit sensitive. it’s quite rare to see toji in such a . . . vulnerable state. perhaps you soften him in a few ways or less. at least, that’s what you’d like to think.

it takes him a long time to formulate the words, it’s as if his tongue was tied—weird for him considering it’s toji, he’s always direct and blunt.

and yet for once, you have him speechless.

toji lets off a irritated sigh before while what seems like forever, he mutters out a gruff, “shit. i . . i think ‘m in love with you.”

“ . . . ”

#★vegasbaby.#toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #female reader #anime smut #cw sex mention

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spectrogramsunshine · 11 months

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one day i shall get better at posing, mark my words

#looking down this blog there are so many “person stands straight staring at the viewer” images #im decent at backgrounds i just need to learn how to make people look cool in front of them

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beansprean · 8 months

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I was possessed by this gifset of a show I’ve never seen cjdjdjdj

Support me on Patreon or send a tip on Kofi!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Bust of Nandor sitting in an armchair in the fancy room, looking lost and forlorn while he stares at the floor and talks to the cameras. He says, "I was coming undone in front of Patton Oswalt. And Guillermo, my sweet, odd bird. And I mean, I value his opinion above anyone's." 1b. Side shot, Nandor up close in the foreground, head turned toward Guillermo sitting in the adjacent armchair. There is a candle lit on the side table between them. Guillermo whips his head up, eyes wide with surprise, and says, "Wait, you do? I didn't... You've never told me that before." 1c. Reverse shot, Guillermo close up in the foreground with his head turned toward Nandor and Nandor squinting at him from his adjacent chair, hands limp on the armrests. Nandor furrows his brow at Guillermo skeptically and asks, "Well, how would I?"

2a. Reverse shot. Guillermo turns his head fully toward Nandor with a nervous smile and gestures with one hand, replying, "Just, sort of like you just did." 2b. Reverse shot. Nandor looks over to the space in front of them, presumably where the camera crew is set up, nodding his head and sweeping his hand in that direction for emphasis. He argues, "But I'm not telling you, I'm telling them." 2c. Reverse shot. Guillermo glances toward the crew and rolls his head back, mouth open in a silent but sarcastic "ohhh". In the foreground, Nandor is becoming animated, gesturing with his other hand now, palm out, and curling his lip to bare his fangs. He snaps, "I mean, what do you want me to do?"

3a. Reverse shot, Nandor sitting up straight in his chair with both arms up in a dramatic shrug, glaring incredulously at Guillermo. He continues, "Tell you that I care about you, to your face, while we're alone?" 3b. Reverse shot. Guillermo laces his fingers demurely in his lap and shrugs his shoulders, looking to the floor with a blush and an embarrassed smile. In the foreground, Nandor frowns at him silently, gesturing hand gone limp at the wrist. Guillermo admits, "That'd be really nice." 3c. Repeat. In the foreground, Nandor sits back in his chair and turns his head back toward the cameras, in profile to the viewer. He scowls, brow furrowed, and says "No, that's absurd." Guillermo freezes in his shy pose, expression dropping into resigned irritation. /end ID

#wwdits #nandermo #mlm #guillermo de la cruz #nandor the relentless #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #fan comic #image described

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mozzaroni · 5 months

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frobin nation 💪🔥

(image ids available in alt descriptions as well as under the cut)

Image ID:

Image 1: two colored line drawings of the character nico robin from one piece - specifically her pre-timeskip design - against a gray background. her design differs from the original in that she has dark-ish brown skin, a wide hooked nose, heterochromia - with a light blue right eye and a hazel left - and a more realistically slim form with a smaller chest and a thicker waist. she is wearing her third outfit featured in the alabasta arc. it features a light purple button up with the first few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up past her elbows, purple bell-bottoms, and slightly bluer purple boots with gray soles. the drawing on the left is bust-up while the one on the right features her from head to toe, albeit it's less detailed than the former. she wears a small smile on her face in both. the full-body drawing has her standing up straight, left arm across her front and hand curling up and around her right elbow while her right hand is up towards her head, fingertips touching the right side of her face. a small purple heart floats next to her there.

Image 2: two black line drawings colored in with white, gray, and black against a white background featuring two characters from one piece: nico robin on the left and franky on the right, both with their respective pre-timeskip designs. they're both drawn bust up, leaning towards the POV, with their faces looking as if they took a picture of themselves really up close with a .5 lens. robin looks like her eyes are looking in two opposite directions with her nose taking up a large portion of her face due to it being the closest to the POV. she is smiling so so happily with her mouth closed. franky is in a similar state, with his eyes further away and staring straight at the POV, an open-mouthed grin creasing his face. you can see the inside of his nostrils a bit. the idea of the drawing was to show what each of them look like from the others' POV when their faces are really close to each other, but it moreso looks like they're just really happy to see the viewer, which i'm not too upset about if i'm honest.

Image 3: a simple black line drawing against a white background that features franky (with the same design as previously stated) bust up with an open mouthed grin on his otherwise regular expression. a three part speech bubble to his right states, "They call me 'SUPER FRANKY'", "the way… i am that… as in, i am 'SUPER'…", "and my name… is Franky."

Image 4: a simple black line drawing against a white background that features franky in the foreground to the right and robin in the background placed in the middle of the image. they both have the same designs as previously stated. franky is drawn shoulders-up and robin is drawn bust-up. the rest of her body is not visible since she's sat at a table across from franky. robin has her left forearm resting in front of her chest on the table and her right elbow resting behind her left fist. she has her face resting against her right hand and is staring at franky with comically large and wide eyes. she has yet another one of her famous small smiles on her face. franky is looking at the viewer over his left shoulder so his face is in a profile view, a closed-mouth grin on his smug face. a thought bubble that floats above robin's head indicates that franky is thinking, "the ladies love me" with an asterisk at the end of the sentence. to robin's right and our left, three lines of text that start with an asterisk say, "fact checkers have reported this as true" with a checked checkbox placed after the last word.

End ID.

#robert downey jr voice they are t4t #nico robin #franky #one piece #delicious cheese #frobin

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flynnriderishot · 5 months

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I have a request for vinnie fic, where the two of you are at that stage in your relationship were your just playfully bullying each other?? thank you

it’s love, not bullying - v.h

“vincent!”

from the bedroom, vinnie stifled a laugh, calling out to you,

“yeah, babe?”

“get in here, now!”

you could hear his feet dragging across the floor as he ran towards you,

“what’s up?”

“my snacks.” you wittily clapped back, “why’d you put them so high?”

“because you can’t reach it.”

“and that’s funny to you?” you placed your hands on your hips.

“no, but you called for me, didn’t you?” you asked, leaning over you to grab the bag of chips, “i like hearing you say my name.”

•••

you stood with your phone propped up against the paper towel holder in your kitchen.

what was meant to be your weekly tiktok post, turned into you standing still as your boyfriend jokingly threw air punches towards you.

“oooh, if you would’ve moved, you would’ve been knocked out.”

the look on your face was one you could only describe as contently unbothered.

“why must you bully me?”

“it’s love, not bullying.”

you stared into the camera with a blank expression until vinnie’s arm gently wrapped around your neck and pulled you towards him.

you screamed slightly before laughing, doing what you could to break from his hold.

“let me go!”

“the more you fight it, the more it’ll hurt!” he warned you.

you knew he was joking, his hold was anything but harmful, your laugh was enough to prove that.

after few seconds of fighting, vinnie let you go, smiling down at you as you breathed heavily.

the laugh that escaped your lips can straight from the heart. one your viewers would definitely put in yours and vinnie’s top ten moments, “this was supposed to be a thirst trap.”

•••

vinnie stood in front of the stove, the only thing covering his body being a pair of plaid pants that matched your own, though you were wearing a crop top with it.

your boyfriend had the idea to make you breakfast before you woke up, completely unaware that you woke the minute he kissed your forehead before he got out of bed.

you lazily made your way towards him, rubbing your eyes as you did.

vinnie hummed softly to himself as he flipped a pancake.

he jumped at the feeling of your cold hands wrapping around his torso.

“jesus! you scared the hell out of me.”

“sorry.” you mumbled, kissing the skin of his back softly to add onto your apology.

“how’d you sleep?”

“good. you woke me up when you left.”

vinnie frowned, “i’m sorry, baby.”

you simply hummed.

vinnie thought nothing if it, thinking you were just too tired to talk. that is, until he noticed your hand moving towards the flour he was using to make the pancake batter.

“yn?”

“hmm?”

“stop it.”

“i’m not going anything.” you giggled, tightening your hold on his waist to keep him from moving. you knew your strength was no match for him, but you still did it.

“put your hand down.”

“huh?” you furrowed your brows.

he went to repeat himself, “put your—“

vinnie was cut off by you tossing a hand full of flour at his face.

you mouth fell in shock, your laughter filling the house, “i didn’t mean to do that much. i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay.” vinnie shrugged it off, turning the stove off as he wiped his eyes.

“i’m sorry, vin.” you began to feel bad.

“it’s okay, baby. can you help me get this off?”

“yeah, of course.”

just as you moved to help him, vinnie’s hand entered your line of vision as he tossed some flour at you.

you gasped loudly as vinnie cackle.

“oh, you bitch!”

vinnie let out a shocked sound as you chased him around the house. the sound of your shared laughter was far too loud for it to only be 8am, but at this point, the noise complaint would be worth it.

#vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker x reader

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beautyinsage · 6 months

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wants and needs

you got married because it was convenient — why not enjoy the benefits that come with it?

gojo x reader.

cw: arranged marriage au, you don't particularly like each other but the sex is good, (yes you've had sex before), (no this is not an enemies to lovers type beat), (more like just good sex between two people who happen to be married!), banter, sexual tension, lowk public-sex public-flirtation, unprotected sex, maaajor exhibition kink

"what the hell are you doing here?”

“last time i checked, sweetheart, the invitation was addressed to mr. and mrs. gojo satoru.”

"that wasn't the question."

"and yet, that's my answer."

you tsk your tongue in annoyance. “i told you that i would take care of this one.” that's what always happens. you and your husband aren't particularly fond of these soirees—him more so than you—and you often switch off on being the representative. never before have the two of you attended the same event. that is, until now.

satoru raised an eyebrow in amusement at your attitude. “yeah? well if you hadn't rushed out of the house this morning, you would know that i was coming and i could’ve picked you up on the way. shame.” you roll your eyes and start to move away, but he snakes an arm around your waist, shifting so he can lower his mouth to your ear. “though, the delay did have its perks—the dress compliments you beautifully.”

you cheeks warm, but you stare straight ahead, your voice far more nonchalant than you felt, “really? that’s good. you paid for it.”

he pulls back, and he meets your smirk with an amused grin, “oh? get yourself a few more then.” his hand then shifts upward, and you feel his thumb swipe over your breast lightly: subtle to a viewer, but as subtle as a gun to your nerves. despite your shock at his boldness, you have to resist the overwhelming urge to press into him.

part of you wanted to be furious. you were in public. at a high-class function. with everyone you could possibly know all in one room. he was insane.

but… on the other hand—

his thumb swipes over your breast again, this time pressing the slightest bit harder.

—it was all so incredibly hot.

“satoru—“ you whisper, every inch of your skin burning as you wanted to be closercloser—

“did you know that you only call me by my name when you’re pissed off or you want me to fuck you? in this moment, it actually seems like it’s both,” he snickers menacingly, and you open your mouth, ready to snap at him, when one of the elders approaches him.

“gojo-san! you show up twenty minutes late to an event we specifically told you not to be late for—“

satoru laughs easily, completely pretending as if he hadn't just promised you the most sinful things. he slips his hand back down to your lower waist before effortlessly engaging with the man’s griping.

gulping lightly, you refocus, blurring out the impossible want flowing through your veins, and paste on the realest fake smile you can muster. you just need to get through the night.

you did actually get through the night. most of it anyways.

the whole event went smoothly. the heat was practically palpable between you and satoru, but both of you kept your cool until it was over.

but now, skip ahead, when you're driving home: the two of you were in a car, in the back seat, sitting on opposite sides, both looking straight ahead.

hence the "most of it" part.

now, all that felt palpable was the awkwardness. the haze of lust and want demanded attention, and any attempt of deflection would not be tolerated. and yet, you were stuck, in a car, with satoru — well, satoru and your driver.

you bounced your knee as you impatiently checked for the millionth time to see if you were any closer to home.

(you weren’t.)

these were the moments that you wished you could just warp home with him—damn the awful migraines that result from it—but you knew satoru would never allow it without good reason (unfortunately, sex is not a good enough reason for him).

desperate to fill the silence and pass the time, you look over to the person driving you home.

“different driver today?” you ask satoru, tense as you squeeze your legs together, pressing as close to the side door as possible.

“ah, yeah, gave ijichi the day off today.”

“oh,” you murmur, your tone almost introspective as you glance at him for a second, “interesting.”

there’s a terse pause, where satoru looks at you intensely as you fix your gaze straight. his eyes don’t leave the side of your face as he says to the driver, “haru? roll up the partition please, thank you.”

the divider goes up and silence engulfs the two of you. satoru shamelessly breaks it, calling your name knowingly. you refuse to take his bait and continue to stare straight ahead.

he says it once more, dragging out the last syllable as he leans closer.

you huff, turning your head, but your indignant response falls short under his gaze.

you knew that look.

it was the look that you thought about on the more lonely nights, in your bedroom with your fingers between your thighs. it was the look that made you melt, made you always crawl back for more. it was the look that meant that he wanted to fuck you—now.

(you also knew, with that look? it was only a matter of time before you said yes.)

unable to form any words, you simply nod your head, and then he is on you. he grips the side of your face and brings his lips to yours in a bruising kiss.

his hand moves to grope roughly at your breast, squeezing slightly. you break away to choke out a moan, and he presses his lips down your neck. moving quickly, he pulls down the strap of your dress to expose your very thin bra. impatient as ever, his mouth is on your nipple through the fabric, and you whimper and press closer to him.

your eyes fall shut as you bask in the lust. it was always him. only he could reduce you to this.

grabbing your opposite leg, satoru shifts you onto his lap, a hand gently guiding your head so you wouldn’t bump it as you adjusted. your dress’ skirt pooled around the two of you, and with both hands, he grinds you down onto him. your barely clothed clit makes contact with his cock straining against his trousers.

you fly forward, muffling your moans against satoru’s neck as he rocks you against him. he snickers lightly, shifting you down for a second so he could unbutton his pants and pull down his briefs slightly. his cock was ready for you, practically pulsing in his hand. “you know baby, the partition is soundproof. you can be as loud as you want.” he strokes himself a few times before pressing his tip against your clit, teasing lightly. “unless, of course, you wish that it wasn’t?”

you want to protest, to tell him to shut up and go to hell, but all that escapes a surprised moan as he lifts you, swipes your panties to one side, and presses you back down to his cock.

you both moan at the feeling, the tension haunting you the entire night making it so that all he had to do was simply slip into you. god, it felt like you could feel every inch of him — and you couldn’t get enough. “satoru—“ you whine, thrusting shallowly, trying to get more friction.

“what?” he says satirically, caressing his fingers up and down the length of your back.

you glare, and although you’re sure your pout and blushing cheeks take away from the intimidation factor you were going for, his gaze softens.

“oh sweetheart, i’m being too mean. let me fix that.”

nothing in this world could have prepared you for what was next, because next thing you knew, the man was fucking up into you perfectly, stroking you just right, grinding you down onto him flawlessly. your hiccups of pleasure were leaving you before you could stop them, and you gripped a hand into his hair as the other dug into his expensive suit jacket desperately—with the way your nails latched on, you wouldn't be surprised if a bill was waiting for you in the morning (it's okay—you both knew you would never pay it).

“god, you’re so fucking sexy baby,” he mumbles, sounding practically drunk as he speaks, “make me wanna fuck you in front of everyone today—make me wanna show everyone how good you are for me. how good you always are. you’d like that, wouldn't you?”

embarrassment was apparently thrown out the window three blocks ago because you sob out a wanton yes and squeeze him tightly. you feel yourself climb exponentially higher.

“ohh, baby, you like that, don’t you? you want me to show them who you belong to? or do you want to show everyone who i belong to hmm?”

he laughs breathily as you conveniently decline to answer, focusing more on the rapidly approaching peak, “that’s okay sweetheart, i’m yours. and you’re mine. my little wife, understood? now be good and take my cum.”

it was over before you could stop it. you stutter out a brief “satoru— c-cumming!” before you shatter, mouth falling open as you breathe in little gasps. clenching tightly, your hips start to jerk as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

the sudden tightness makes satoru curse as his thrusts get impossibly harder, head tilting back as he chases his high. “fuck—fuck, gonna cum, gonna fucking cum—ah, ah—fuck i’m cumming—“

his lips immediately latch onto yours as he climaxes, groaning as he paints your walls with his cum, and you both work each other down from your respective highs.

the car feels suddenly quiet as both your gentle pants fill the air. your eyes meet, and you're suddenly reminded that this man is your husband. what he offers you isn't a want — it's a need.

you need your husband. there's no one else who can do this—no one else who can make you feel this alive.

suddenly, satoru's eyes widen and a pained groan escapes him. “fuck, i’m going to have to fire this guy.”

you raise an eyebrow at him, confused at first, but then you realize. panic mixed with embarrassment mixed with an inexplicable aftershock of pleasure begins to bloom inside your chest.

“yeah,” he admits, scratching his head almost innocently, “i lied. the divider isn’t soundproof.”

#gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #jjk gojo #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut

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loviingpedri · 6 months

Text

one of his girls tonight - hector fort

prompt: he can’t get enough of you.

warnings: cursing, drinking, clubbing, suggestive content, grammar issues, not intense smut (viewer discretion is still advised)

please let me know if more since this is going to be a little explicit.

any italicized texts are lyrics

credits to owners for all images

what else do young adults do in their free time? party, of course.

nothing like a hot saturday night in barcelona when the city was awake as people went out.

“y/n! my sexy girl, let’s go!” going out with your friends at least once a month was a must. meeting new people, kissing strangers, waking up next to someone random.

everything felt like a fever dream. especially that one boy you shared an unforgettable kiss with. last month, you were drunk out of your mind. you met this one guy, he had brown fluffy hair and touched you in the right places. your friends always said you were gonna go home with him and make him yours for the night. until, a random girl walked up to you and slapped you. either you just made out with someone’s boyfriend or someone was a complete control freak over him.

you hoped to see him tonight. some reassurance of what happened last month. and if he’s single, maybe you’ll keep him wrapped around your finger this time.

“alright! i’m ready!” you grabbed your small purse that barely fit anything in it and ran into the uber with the 10 other people in it. “a bit crowded?” you laughed as some people were sitting on each other’s laps.

“anything to save money and not have a designated driver tonight. today’s the day where all hell will break lose.” going out with a group of people was safer, calmer, and more fun.

lately, your life had been hitting every single positive goal in life. you spent your days with the people who brought out the best. little did you know, you would meet the person who would see you inside and out.

getting out the car was a hassle. thanking the driver and running to show your ids to the bouncer. already pre-gamed at your tiny apartment, it was finally time to let loose.

“it’s fucking hot in here.” one of your dearest friends spoke to you as you tried to mingle on the dance floor.

“i just finished my makeup 20 minutes ago and i can feel it melting already.” you fanned yourself to keep composed.

“y/n, that guy keeps staring at you.” looking behind your shoulder. you saw the one and only boy, the one with the best lips you’ve ever felt on yours.

“holy shit. that’s the guy with the crazy girl that slapped me.” you looked at your friend in disbelief. he must’ve went out to the clubs a lot if you continued to see him.

“go up to him. i don’t see her around. ask him what that whole fight was about. take a shot though, you’re gonna need it.” turning around, you could already see his eyes going up and down from behind you. meeting with your friends at the bar and downing shots after shots. finally feeling the alcohol in your system, a new boost of confidence was found.

walking up to him, you spotted different girls surrounding him. as you got closer, he sat up straight and tried to distance himself. sitting down next to him, he sat there frozen.

“hey, aren’t you the guy from a few weekends back?” for a guy who seemed popular around the ladies, he seemed pretty fucking nervous around you.

“yeah i am. sorry about that slap. i don’t know what happened. she’s not my girlfriend by the way. just someone random.” he spoke so fast, fidgeting with his hands. considering you already made out with him, there was no reason for him to be scared.

“you seem very popular. met anyone you like?” he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. you listened closely to the song in the background as he tried to form an answer.

push me down, hold me down.

spit in my mouth while you turn me on. i wanna take your light inside.

“you. can’t ignore a pretty girl like you.” he began to play into your little game. slowly, you touched his shoulder and sat closer to him in a comfortable position.

“oh yeah? well, this ‘pretty girl’ has to know your name first.”

and i’m screamin’ out. give me tough love.

“my name is hector. yours?”

“i’m y/n. you have a little something on your neck.” spotting a red kiss-mark on his neck, obviously not from you, you smudged it off.

we don’t gotta be in love no. i don’t gotta be the one, no.

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

“wishing it was your lipstick?” he give a little grin, trying to rile you up. you looked at him, his way of words trying to get into your pants was working.

“i don’t need to wish.” within seconds, your lips happened to be on hector’s. your legs straddling him while he rubbed your thighs.

he knows how to get the best out of me.

his hands were grabbing your waist as you felt the material of his pants under you. he continued rubbing your thighs, but he slowly made it up to your ass. as you gasped for air, he decided it was a good time to slip in his tongue.

finally breaking the kiss, you hear him whimper for more even over the loud music. smiling at him, you made your way to his neck and jaw. you planted a few kisses here and there, then you could feel his hand start to go under your dress.

“not here, but i know a few places.” making eye contact, you already knew where this was going.

hector wanted to you to be his girl every night.

————————————————

author’s note: author gone wild. imagination got the best of me and i know this is not likely of my stories. let me know if i did good for these kind of storylines!

#football x reader #football fanfic #football imagine #spotify #fc barca #fc barcelona #hector fort #hector fort x reader #hector fort imagine #hector fort x y/n #hector fort fanfic #hector fort x yn #Spotify

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dev1lm4n · 10 months

Text

lesson two: tease

ko-fi | series masterlist (5 out of 7)

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: tension is on the rise between you and mr. miller. wicked fantasies hadn't posted for an entire month! desperate, you decided to get even more bold with your requests and he had no difficulty in complying.

word count: 4.8k

warnings: explicit (18+), set in 2013, pre-outbreak, age gap (joel in mid 30's and reader in early 20's), inexperienced but not dumb reader, blowjob, f masturbation, check umbrella warning on series masterlist

notes: tension is literally on the rise! the vase is about to crack, but tonight he decides to indulge. fellas if you enjoyed this do COMMENT, REBLOG or buy me a KO-FI ;) love y'all

Broad shoulders.

During the time when you simply saw Mr. Miller as a figure in your lewd fantasies, you knew that it was the roughness of his build that attracted you. There’s a certain market for it; for women and men alike who enjoyed those who're built like burly vikings straight out of a movie. Those who enjoy men with a slight plumpness on their front, those who salivate over their strong and reliable arms, those who strive to caress their calloused fingers and press kisses onto their rigid knuckles. You’ve never confessed this to anyone - mostly terrified for their reserved judgment over the topic - but you fit perfectly in that box. Time after time, you wonder if it’d feel nice, if you could just press your nifty fingers into the coils of his muscles, if he’d let out a groan.. a moan perhaps from the sensation.

Rough fingers.

After spending two minutes staring intensely at his sturdy, slightly hunched build, you finally gathered enough courage to summon yourself into the kitchen. God, he looked so good just washing the dishes. His already calloused fingers didn’t have to worry about the damage those cheap dish soap does, because if anything, it’d just make it better. More ridges means more texture and more texture feels better. Two of his fingers entered the soapy lining of his mug, spreading the cleaning product into every crack and crevice. It looks a little erotic, you decided. Your filthy mind conjured up altered scenarios which implemented the same motion. You’d be on top of the cold countertop, various kitchen gadgets set aside as his fingers delved into your cunt. He’d spread your wetness the same way he did to the mug.

Thick mustache.

He took notice of your presence. He watched you and you allowed him, even if he did so wordlessly. Water continued to spill out of the faucet. It hit the empty bottom of the sink and sprouted upwards in a gauche manner, effectively wetting his gray shirt in blotches and dots. You breathed out what could pass as a dry chuckle and in return, he quirked his lips. A grin. A youthful one that almost made you forget of his crow’s feet and faint lines. His thin upper lip almost disappeared as it was tugged on both sides, but the dark hair on top remained pristine. It was thick, you concluded. Not as thick as Uncle Tommy’s, but thick enough that he’d get marinara sauce on it every pasta night. Thick enough that you wonder what it’d be like to have it graze your sensitive pelvis.

Fuck, he’s hot and you’re unreasonably horny.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he parroted back, only with the help of that damned nickname he’s stamped onto you.

Crunch

You bit into the red apple you found during your little scavenging trip into his refrigerator. The sound broke whatever trance he had placed you under. With those eyes of yours, pupils rounded and lashes batted, it was a dangerous game you’re playing. When had you gotten so shameless towards Mr. Miller? Perhaps it’s when he touched you in an irrevocably pleasurable way, or perhaps it’s when he hadn’t posted a video for an entire month. He missed his posting schedule, two whole weeks post-’Dirty Fridays’, and it’s severely messing with your head. You’ve always been a good viewer. Always being content with what he had put out and would never harass him for more, but it’s been a long month repeating the same 13 minute long video.

You’re bound to get restless.

“Didn’t see you come home yesterday.”

“I was busy.”

Crunch

With other girls? In that trailer studio of yours? The question sat on the tip of your tongue. A breath away from being exposed into the dense air. You turned to lean your lower back onto the edge of the countertop, eyes still trained on his as you hitched yourself atop the smooth surface. Your fingers grazed the squared edges, just to keep you occupied while you dug under the surface of his browns. You wondered what he was so busy with - wondered what’s going on behind the tightly knitted cloak of guise he wore, wondered what he thought of you after his little lesson. He wasn’t a shy one. Mr. Miller stared back into your pupils. His chest raised and lowered with every blink he took.

You swallowed nervously.

“Workin’ doubles,” he cracked. “I ain’t sharin’ the job with anyone other than Tommy.”

“Is that so?”

“You think I’m lyin’?”

Crunch

You couldn’t read him. You’ve never been able to. There’s just a huge boulder sitting behind those irises, one that’s blocking you from understanding him even further. It’s not like it’s your business anyway. You’re content with spending your downtime with Sarah; screaming your hearts out to Taylor Swift’s I Knew You Were Trouble on the radio, painting each others’ nails, and making the ultimate pancake with chicken. You’re content with just watching him through his videos, reimagining those situations with the new knowledge you’ve acquired from him. You’re content with standing at a distance from him. So, it wouldn’t be logical to get all protective over him. What are you? His crazy ex-girlfriend?

“How’s Sarah?”

“Great,” you mumbled, mouth still half full. “Taught her fractions yesterday. Swear she’s getting smarter than me.”

“How’s Simon?”

Crunch

Things with Simon, surprisingly, went on smoothly. After that mediocre dinner, where you proceed to let Mr. Miller finger you afterwards in order to introduce you to the new world of sex, you’ve exchanged a few messages and a few perfectly appropriate photos. It’s been awhile since you actually put any effort into trying to get into a relationship, due to work loads and a special dependance towards a pornstar, but it’s much better than you expected. He’s a nice boy. He would treat you right if you gave him the chance to, but you couldn’t help but think that you’re doing all this out of spite. Doing this to show off how capable you are to Mr. Miller, to busy yourself off those plaguing thoughts of him.

“Simon’s doing okay. Fine. He took me for ice cream after my classes yesterday.”

“Offered you a ride, right?”

“Yup.”

He taught you well.

“You’ve done it with him then?”

Your heart clenched.

“Done what?”

“What I taught you.”

Why is he so candid about the entire ordeal?

It was like being held at gunpoint. You watched his eyes, then found it to be too oppressive so you looked down to meet his wet hands. He had finished washing all the plates and cutleries from the breakfast you and Sarah made, though his thick fingers still gripped onto the edge of the metal sink, wet and dripping. You looked up once again, trying to find a part of him that doesn’t make you all jittery and awkward.

“Yes.”

Your lie must’ve been undetectable since you quickly caught on to how his brows tangled and unraveled, a habit of his you’ve picked up recently, signaling that he’s processing the information and giving it a good thought.

“Was it as good?”

Crunch

You nodded surely with a mouthful of tangy apple. There’s no way you could get away with lying so blatantly the second time so you decide the nod would affirm your position better instead of scramble it. He cocked his head to the side, arrogant as always, with some sort of interest in his eyes. You could just tell something foul was about to come out of those sharp tongue of his, when all of a sudden, a clatter sounded out from beyond the window. Both of you turned your heads in sync, following after where the presumable source was. There he was. Tommy in all of his youthful glory. One of his jean legs drenched and beside him was a metal bucket, laying pitifully with its contents poured out onto the sidewalk. He was cursing. A garbled mess of English, while he soothed his pained arse.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

He let out a sigh as he finally tore his gaze away from you to wipe his hands onto a kitchen rag.

“Gotta get goin’,” he whispered hurriedly, fingers running down his messy hair to smooth them down. “You need anything, sweetheart?”

You shook your head no and he took it as a cue to leave the premises. He rushed to pick up his phone from the dining room table, eyes fleeting to find his wallet right after.

“Hey, Mr. Miller.”

He turned his head to meet your eyes.

“You busy tonight?”

Dinner had always been a lonesome affair for you.

Back when you still live in your parents’ cluttered mishmash of a house, you’d always opt out of family dinner. Not because you weren’t particularly fond of your mother’s cooking, her one pot recipes will still remain nostalgic in your head despite time, but more because you’d rather not indulge in petty arguments. They’d always argue. Your mother would flash you that look of hers, silently demanding you to stay on her side when it comes to dealing with your father’s frequent misdemeanors. He’d complain about the tiniest bits of things. If the lettuce was too wilted or if you were wearing too much makeup. He’s an ass, sure, but it’s not like your mother’s planning to abandon him anytime soon. They’re conjoined at this point. Even when it’s massively unhealthy, especially for spectators like you.

In Mr. Miller’s home, oftentimes, you’d put together an edible meal for the entire family. Mr. Miller was a hard worker, according to the accounts that he made, so it’s not rare that you’d have to fry up sausages and whip mashed potatoes together for Sarah. It’s not as if he made it your responsibility. He’d encourage the two of you to order take outs or phone in the pizza place, but that couldn’t be good for Sarah’s growth or his own pocket. And as much as you’d like to deny it, you’re growing way too fond of the Millers.

But it’s been far too long since you crossed path with Mr. Miller. Far too long that you might’ve forgotten what his natural musk after a long day smelt like. Far too long that you might’ve forgotten how heavy his boots were as it dragged across the tiles. Far too long that you surely misses him.

You’re nervous.

Unreasonably so when the promise you’ve made with him was simply for dinner. Nothing less or more. Just dinner. Was the invitation you gave him.. too much? Was it too flirty? Was it silly to think that he might’ve entertained the little show you put out? The desperate stares and chewed lips, you’re undeniably begging for attention. Begging for him to pay attention to you, see what you’re made out of, doesn’t he want to unravel you more? The audacity you have was laughable.

How pathetic, you thought.

Just like clockwork, Mr. Miller showed up right after your self-deprecating cycle. Right after all that flirty and playful energy got brutally murdered by common sense. Right after they were buried in a graveyard of mistakes and what was left was simply the putrid scent of shame. Your head perked up expectantly. As if the mere sight of him in his work uniform, a combo of worn-out flannel shirts and dark-washed jeans, would cure you of exhaustion. Mr. Miller came barging into the hallway. His thumb and index finger diligently massaged the tall bridge of his nose, eyes closed and nose flared from breathing too hard. Your eyes finally made its rounds to where his free arm was propped up on his waist. Sleeves rolled to where it was physically impossible to roll them higher.

He didn’t look like he was in the best of moods.

And somehow.. somehow it excites you.

“Hi, how are you?” you spoke stiffly as if you’re one of those supermarket cashiers, posture straightening upon his arrival.

“Not good,” he replied gruffly.

Mr. Miller made his way to you. He appeared to be the same height and stature as he’s always been, but for whatever reason, he looked a lot larger. As if he could bite and tear you into chunks of flesh if he truly desired to. His movements were staggered. Each step seemed to be more and more of a hassle to him. He had this.. frown on his face. You could even call it a scowl. Forehead waved with folds of worries, lips tightened into an irritated pull as he finally settled down across from you. This new side to him made your limbs limp and your heart spasm. A squeeze each time his narrowed eyes met yours.

“Everything.. okay?” you mused out.

“Just a bunch of shit piling up,” he reasoned, looking down to meet the plate you carefully crafted for him. “Nothin’ to worry your pretty little head.”

The plate’s cold, boiled asparagus hardened and packaged chicken dried, but he didn’t even consider complaining. His brown eyes took in the effort you gave, a brief sheen of guilt glazing those pretty eyes of his before he picked up his fork and spoon. You watched him with care. His every move calculated and drilled deep into your head.

“Sarah asleep?”

“Mhm. I bored her to death with trigonometry,” you chuckled lightly. “She’s okay. Just.. she’s been asking for you. Asking me why you’re always home late.”

Joel’s eyes perked up from the plate. He met your eyes, but it almost felt like he’s looking right through you, over your head to where he could contemplate his decisions. You knew this just from looking, but Joel Miller had a fear of not being a good parental figure. Sarah only had one and he’s barely ever home. That sort of thought festered over him and took over any sort of inhibition. Any sort of clear thinking, that he’s doing all these side jobs to help support her further in life, that it was all for her. Mr. Miller beats himself up too much, but it’s not like you had any right to intervene. You watched as he indulged in the asparagus, seeing how it’s grown cold enough to feel like metal rods when bitten into. He chewed on it with a solemn expression, a curl between his brows.

“Sorry for putting you through this, sweetheart,” he hummed. “I could.. should actually hire help.”

You waited a beat.

“You’ve been doing me too much favor. It’s not.. right.”

“Don’t need to.”

“Why?”

“Always happy to help.”

“But-”

“It’ll cost you too much for help. You’d be sleeping at your job if that happens.”

He could easily earn up to thousands if he gave into the temptations and started working for a mainstream adult film company. One that’s easily recognized from its corny storylines and cringy high-pitched over-the-top moans. Mr. Miller would be a hit, you’re sure of that. Mainstream porn only requires two things when it comes to male actors: a pretty reasonably-sized cock and charisma. Both in which he had under his belt. If he weren’t so particular with the actresses he chose, the angles in which he filmed, and the routine in which he performed in, perhaps he wouldn’t have to beat himself up to skin and bones. You leaned your cheeks onto the palm of your hands as you watched him devour his dinner.

“I need a favor.”

His fork paused.

“But you- well, you’ll laugh.”

He looked up. The crinkles beside his eyes seemed a lot more prominent, as if he’s thoroughly entertained by your youthful silliness.

“What is it? Somethin’ for Simon is it?”

He’s spot on and it’s making you shrink.

“What?” he chuckled gruffly. “You gonna ask me to teach ya how to blow a guy? Oh.. or how to hang him up in ribbons?”

You looked away, awkwardly scratching your elbow.

“Fuck. I’m spot on, am I? Didn’t take you for a kinky gal.”

“No! God, no,” you looked at him, horrified. “Not the latter.”

“The former then?”

“The former.”

The former. You couldn’t bear to wait for his delayed answer. It’s shameless for you to be asking a second time, but you couldn’t help yourself. You’re pent-up, desperate, and he’s your porn star crush forfuckssake. You stood up from where you’re seated. Your gaze was averted completely, to the point where it’s tilted at an uncomfortable angle to shuffle away from his attention. It’s better to sleep it off. Then maybe you’d act like all this didn’t happen the next day. Sarah’s going to be around for breakfast, so he’d surely keep his mouth in check and draw his way out of this. Wouldn’t he.. would he-

“Hey, hey slow down.”

You felt a hand stop you. His grip was tight, possibly bruising if you were to retaliate any other way. It was still hard to meet his eyes, especially when you had to make the special effort to tilt your head up in order to meet his searing gaze. You waited instead, letting him hinder you of any movements as you stared intensely into his flannel-cladded chest. What was he going to say? Is he going to call you up for your perverseness? Was he-

“I’ll do it.”

“What?”

“I said I’ll do it.”

His voice clambered in the chambers of your heart. Masculine, thick with an inch of Southern bass, he took hold of your other hand with those thick fingers of his. This was different from your first lesson. He looked much more.. impatient. A bit of a rough edge when it comes to handling you, a pretty little thing that’s too brave and forward for your own good. His scent, fragments of wood and a taste of clean laundry, permeated the thick air around you. You inhaled him. All of him for the first time in a very very long week. He released the steel grip he had around your wrists and traced it over the rough outline of your body. Up, up, up, until he reached the span of your shoulder. Your breath hitched. All you could feel in your heart was a repeating desire for himhimhim.

He pushed you down slowly, guiding you to lower yourself before him. Right until your knees hit the freezing linoleum tiles beneath his feet. What were you doing? Is it the right decision to fall back into the same old mistake?

“Have you ever practiced on anything before?” he chuckled, almost demeaning in a sense. “A banana or a hairbrush perhaps?”

You shook your head no. All you could see was his dirty jeans, stained of dry concrete and paint.

He brought his rough fingers down to graze against your chin, tilting it upwards so that you’d face him. His eyes were dark, hooded, and trying its best to conceal its obvious amusement. Your chest heaved up and down. Nervous of what he’s about to do next.

“Let’s practice first, ‘kay, sweetheart?” he muttered.

Mr. Miller brought his other pair of fingers next to your face, cradling it with such reverence. He swiped your lips. Bottom then top, only to delve inside your mouth to wet it with enough lubricant. He’s initiating it. His little routine. The older man brought two of his fingers, his index and middle, before he inserted it slowly into your wet cavity. Slowly. Achingly slow. He made sure that you’re comfortable with just a knuckle deep before he proceeded to push in further until the tips sat at the very beginning of your tongue. It wasn’t a familiar feeling like rubbing your clit. You struggle not to gag, or to whimper at the sheer lewdness of the scene unfolding.

“Ah, what a smart girl,” he mused. “Lay your tongue flat for me.”

Your clammy palms fell helplessly atop your smooth pajama pants, gripping on the cotton everytime it felt like too much. His thick fingers separated to make the girth much larger, preparing you for what’s to come. It’s almost as if you could taste him. Taste the natural scent Mr. Miller has around him at all times, taste the carnal desire he held for this. You knew he wouldn’t openly admit it, but this time, it truly looked like he’s looking forward to ripping your innocence away. All his feigned affection stretched thin as you obeyed him perfectly. Tongue flat on the base of your mouth, you breathed in through your nose as best as you can.

“That boy wouldn’t like it if you’re sharp with your teeth,” he muttered as he pulled his fingers away. A string of saliva connected the tip of his wet fingers to your slacked jaw. Oh, how vulgar. Your tight entrance twitched and throbbed inside your panties. Arousal started to wet the thin material, painting dark circles that contrast with the bright color. You were heaving, panting from the sudden increase of oxygen. “So no teeth, keep your tongue flat, and breathe through your nose.”

“You got that, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Mr. Miller.”

“Alright. Would you like me to take my pants off or do you wanna try it yourself?”

You looked up at the tempting prospect. He gave you a little nod, affirming that you indeed had the upper hand to the situation. And just like that your hands were quick to get on the perimeter of his belt. You loosened the leather from its metal confines, slowly pulling it away from the hook before leaving it. The leather hung from where his two front loops were located. Meekly, you looked up once more as your soft fingers felt his buttons up. He hissed through his pursed lips, a good reaction you assume, as you slowly unbuttoned the main button. You were confident enough now to tug away at his zippers. Step one was completed, you’ve successfully opened him up like a Christmas present.

But.. what’s next?

“What do I do next?”

“What do you think you do?”

You reached out for the waistband of his briefs, but you were quickly met with a little slap on the back of your hand. Not a hurtful one. Just a little reminder.

“It’s best if you get him worked up first so he’s fully hard when you’re ready,” he whispered. “Why don’t you press some gentle kisses on it?”

You hummed in agreement, before you did as you’re told. Even with the dim lighting of the dining room, you could see clearly where the outline of his cock is. It’s semi-erected, you deduced. You’ve seen him in all his glory to the point where you could calculate how much more he could grow. Gently, you closed the gap between you and those pair of briefs he’s wearing. Your mouth was hot and warm in contrast to the cold air, so when you finally pressed a kiss on top of his clothed shaft, his cock twitched immediately. You could feel it and see it too in certain lighting. Encouraged, you press even more kisses on each and every spot, slowly building up the desire until you reach the leaking tip. You nuzzled your nose close. It smelled like him, salty with a tinge of masculine musk.

This turned you on so much that you inevitably grinded your bottom towards the cold tile. Nothing was there to satiate your throbbing core, just a short term burst of pleasure.

“Shit, sweetie,” he hissed. “I think you’re ready.”

With haste, you quickly tugged on his waistband. You didn’t expect for his length to pop out that quickly, the startled reaction you had was proof of that. He looked.. pretty. Blushed beige with a ruddy tip that's covered. It’s a little silly that that’s the first thing that came to your mind, but it’s the truth. You’d never guess that you could get this up close. Eye level to the cock you’ve been fantasizing about, where you could practically see each and every one of his veins. You didn’t say one word. Instead, you settled on observing the new interest. Your one finger went up curiously to touch the white substance that’s pooling up top. Sticky, you thought. Out of curiosity, you stuck the lone finger down your throat. Salty was the next thought in line.

“Didn’t expect you to taste it,” he chuckled.

You simmered in the sudden embarrassment.

“What’s next? Should I just put it in my mouth?”

“You could.”

“There’s another way?” you peered up curiously.

“Well,” he hummed. You watched as his finger pried your lips open once more, urging you to stick out your wet tongue. “You could make a show out of it. Look me in the eye and lick me slowly.”

You quirked your eyebrows as if unsure if this will work. You’ve never taken yourself as a ‘sexy’ person. Will this even work? To get rid of those plaguing thoughts, you decided to take a leap of faith. You stuck your tongue out more and slowwwwly dragged it along his salty length. You made sure to keep your eyes on his, watching his every micro reaction to decide which one pleased him more. This is supposed to be about Simon! Why are you.. seeking for his validation? On instinct, you pulled the hooded skin back to reveal his furiously red tip. You laughed nervously before you experimentally sucked on it. The wet warmth instantly had him buck up into you, a strained groan following suit.

“Oh shit,” he cursed. “You’re doing good.”

Getting confident, you decided to suckle on it a little more. It tasted a lot more intense than what you’ve tasted of him, but it wasn’t bad at all.

“You think you could take more, sweetheart?”

You nodded before letting his length infiltrate your mouth even more. The end touched the back of your throat ambitiously before you had to pull back and set yourself onto his sensitive tip once more. It wasn’t as easy as his co-stars are making it seem. There was a rhythm in which you have to master, a balance of push and pull so that you don’t gag at the intrusion. His soft groans were heavenly. You didn’t get to hear much of it the first time around, but now it’s all you could think of. You can’t take it anymore! You just had to touch yourself.

“Shit, you’re a dirty gal, are ya?” he chuckled. “Had to touch yourself to this?”

You cried out a muffled moan. It was all too familiar. The way in which you slipped your hand into your pants, shuffling between the layers of panties to rub at your clit. You were already drenched with need. Strings of arousal webbed between your fingers as you rubbed figure eights all across the sensitive patch of nerves. You’re losing track of the rhythm and Mr. Miller took notice of that. He was kind enough to lead you. His fingers slotted perfectly behind the crown of your head, guiding you in a pace you could tolerate.

“Perfect mouth for little Simon,” he degraded.

Mr. Miller’s large hands continued to move you at a certain pace. The time slot left for you to gather your breath tightened and it’s almost like you could pass out from the lack of oxygen. But it felt too good. He tasted too nice. You’ve got his cock in your mouth and it’s spurting out tangy liquid goodness onto your tongue, what else can you ask for?

You continued to grind onto the palm of your hand, desperate enough to not think of how shameless you looked. So slick, your fingers let out a lewd pop everytime it dipped inside of you. Usually you weren’t fond of vaginal penetration by yourself, but the thought of having his cock inside of you left you rabid. This was supposed to be about Simon, is it not?

“You wanna know what a real man tastes like?” he mused out lazily.

You nodded desperately. Mr. Miller held your head tight against his pelvis. Your nose grazed against the coarse dark curls he had as he twitched inside of you. You continued to slick the pads of your fingers against yourself. An entire week of masturbation being combined into one as you felt that familiar pressure build in your stomach. A coil waiting to be snapped.

“Sh- shit.”

Mr. Miller broke first. He hunched slightly as he rode his orgasm out. You could see how his legs trembled and his hips bucked himself even further down your throat.

There it was. The salty trace you tried earlier came in big spurts down your throat, only when you couldn’t fit more did it start seeping out your mouth. It dribbled down the gaps between his softened cock and your aching mouth, stripes of white just trickling down vulgarly. You moaned into his cock, wetting the flimsy material of your panties. A combination of the scent his cock gave to the familiar rubs to your clit had you seeing stars. You knew for a fact that the linoleum tiles would be soaked with your juices when you come up to your feets.

This isn’t a problem anymore, it’s a catastrophe.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller #tlou #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us #tw age gap

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nohaijiachi · 9 months

Text

I've been seeing just about all moments of GO S2 being put under a microscope and absolutely dissected frame by frame

And still I am yet to see anyone mention a moment that might be small in the grand scheme of things, perhaps not as character defining as many other that have been (rightfully) analyzed a thousand times over, but which was *so* important to me, and every single time I watch it I'm just filled with so many feelings and jhaghagha

(putting this under a read more to not spam y'all with a ginormous post clogging your dashes)

The moment in question is this (my apologies for the pics, I currently don't have a proper way to take screenshots of S2 and had to snap photos of my tv screen lol)

It's such a quick moment, a small blip in the entirety of episode 5, but let me tell you why it absolutely destroys my heart every single time.

First of all let's refresh our memory on Aziraphale's relationship with Heaven and Gabriel specifically, shall we?

The very first time we see Gabriel in S1, he surprises Aziraphale at a sushi restaurant. Aziraphale looks to his left, because that's the side where Crowley usually appears when approaching him, but instead of his boyfriend the familiar Demon, he sees the reflection of Gabriel at his other side, and he turns around with what reads to me as very much an "oh shit" expression.

In episode 2 we see Gabriel again, along with Sandalphon; they are flanking Aziraphale and leaving him no way to escape in what to me seems a blatant intimidation tactic, especially with Gabriel being all "hey you remember Sandalphon, right :)" and Aziraphale being like "Oh yeah, likes smiting and turning people into salt, I sure do! *nervous laugh". There's literally no reason for them to be acting like this if not to (un)subtly remind Aziraphale what his place is, and that he is NOT safe, not even in his bookshop.

Whenever we see Aziraphale in Heaven he is constantly standing ramrod straight, hands kept caged behind him, none of his usual mannerism to be seen. He always smiles like a hare being stared at by a hawk and the cinematography very much underlines that tenseness by both showing the impossible, cold and sterile expanse of Heaven in contrast to the camera being shoved right in the characters' face to make the viewer feel just as uncomfortable as Aziraphale is.

When Gabriel and Aziraphale speak in the park there's this moment after it looks like Gabriel is leaving, but he pops right back up in Aziraphale's space in an instant, causing the reaction we see in these screenshots. Aziraphale is clearly taken aback and tense, eyes widening which is like, fair considering Gabriel pretty much jump scared him, but that's rather the point, isn't it? Gabriel pretty much jump scared him. He didn't just turn around and jog back to Aziraphale to ask him about the sword, he purposefully moved himself up to him without any warning. Like sheesh, talk about terrifying bosses.

No Gabriel here, but just another example of how much Aziraphale does NOT like being in Heaven. When he gets discorporated and finally manages to stand up for himself, saying he refuses to fight a war, he still looks like *this*. Like he's one step away from just discorporating a second time and without an actual body out of sheer anxiety.

When all it's said and done at the Tadfield airbase and the four horsemen are gone, Gabriel and Beelzebub decide to go check what the heck is going on, at which point Aziraphale pretty much seems to be bracing himself, straightening his back, adjusting his clothes nervously and then holding his hand in front of him in a show of dignified quietness I definitely read as him doing his best to hide just how anxious he truly is.

Of course we don't see Aziraphale's reaction at being told to shut his stupid mouth and die already by Gabriel due to the body swap, and at this point is pretty safe to say Crowley has never shared with Aziraphale that little tidbit of information, but even not knowing the extent of the cruelty Gabriel showed toward him at the end, he still knows that Gabriel and, by extension, Heaven was more than willing and ready to murder him.

Even at the start of S2, when an amnesiac Gabriel arrives at the bookshop and then hugs him (awkwaaaard), Aziraphale looks like he's entirely frozen and unable to react to the improbability of what is happening, and when Gabriel asks him if he can go inside the bookshop Aziraphale's immediate reaction is to pretty much recoil with an immediate "No!".

Of course he is then forced to let him in because there's a naked man on his steps while the whole neighborhood is watching, and we get some many more little moments of Aziraphale anxiety emerging through his body language: The pacing, the way he sits ramrod straight in front of Gabriel, and him literally backing away multiple steps when Gabriel asks him "You know how it's like, when you don't know anything at all, and yet you're totally certain that everything will be better if you were just near one particular person?"

(Because of course Aziraphale knows how that feels, and that's exactly the same reason why he's been so scared of Heaven for-fucking-ever!) (Also as an aside let me just bless Michael 'Acting Choices' Sheen for that smile that lasts a shard of a second after Gabriel asks that. You can pretty much see the word "CROWLEY" stamped in big bold letters on his forehead in that moment lmao)

(Also as an aside to the aside. Jon Hamm is just fantastic. Gabriel comes across as such an asshole in S1, but Amnesiac!Gabriel is a fucking cinnamon roll and he pulls it off so well ajahjahja)

Then of course we get the whole exchange about the 'something terrible' that sends Aziraphale into more anxious frenzy until another tiny, kinda overlooked moment hits us in the shins, in which Gabriel says "You're funny. I love you." And like, can't blame anybody for not looking at that moment without much thought, I know that that sentence had me crying laughing multiple times on multiple rewatches, but also... God, you can see the way some of that fear instantly leaves Aziraphale, the way he relaxes ever so slightly and ??? Aziraphale??? Is that all you need to instantly start trusting someone who wanted you dead? Who treated you like shit for who knows how long? (Why am I even asking this, of course that'd be enough, it's Aziraphale we're talking about, here.) Then of course the rest of season 2, he and Crowley having a row about what to do with Gabriel with Aziraphale insisting that he needs them, as his friends, yada yada, we get back to the initial moment that sparked this post.

We get there, Aziraphale's (eldritch) Ball and the romantic moment he's been working himself up for ruined, murderous Demons at his steps putting both he and all the humans inside in peril, and all he would need to do to avoid any harm coming to them is to give Gabriel up, and... "You came to me. I said I would protect you. And I will." Not just the words, but the way Aziraphale says them; voice lowered and serious, that hint of hesitation and fear at the start that melts away into full blown confidence at the 'And I will'.

It isn't just Aziraphale being scared by Gabriel mentioning the 'something terrible' at the beginning, nor the brief moments of cryptic recollection that he witnesses Gabriel going through-- It's that Aziraphale sincerely accepted to protect him, and he wasn't going to give that up. He is a Guardian and a Principality, after all.

And like, I see this and how am I supposed not to get my heart utterly shattered by it? If Aziraphale had rejected Gabriel, or treated him unkindly in any way, I hardly doubt anybody would be hard pressed to say Aziraphale did not have the right to do so, not after the way he's been treated by Gabriel and Heaven his whole life. But he doesn't. He is kind to him, if a tad long-suffering at times. The protection he extended over Gabriel is utterly sincere and unwavering.

And ngggggggh I don't even know where I'm going with this. I just. Love Aziraphale so much. Stupid, clever, anxious, brave man-shaped thing that he is, recklessly throwing himself into the line of fire for somebody that, by any means, did not have any right to ask something of that magnitude from him. He is my scrungly, and by God am I ever so excited to see how everything will play out in season 3. I want him to fully grasp that bravery and raise absolute -metaphorical- hell with it. Shine bright, you crazy bastard.

#good omens #aziraphale #meta #i suppose #idk i just wanted to throw my two cents and talk about this specific moment #cuz it gives me ALL of the feels #my angel blorbo ilu

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planetdream · 17 days

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pornstar!changbin who the actresses love not only bc of his huge cock, but bc he’s a sweetheart on and off set. he seems so intimidating at first, somewhat of a resting bitch face, perceivably hard exterior—which is carried on by his role/persona in the films he’s typically in: a dominant man; whether he plays the bad boy or a home intruder—he gives dick hard and well. fucking his partner into any surface they’re bent or spread over; whether couch or kitchen counter.

but he's so painfully down to earth. before the scene, he'll chat it up with you if it's your first time working together. wants to get to know you, and make sure that you're completely safe and ready for the scenes you're shooting together. is interested in the things you like sexually, too—how you like to be touched, fucked and additionally, your hard no's. because when changbin fucks, he really fucks; and on top of all of that, he's a completely giver—wants to pleasure and fuck his co-star within an inch of their life. the money, is just a positive addition.

if you've shot together before, he's kind of a little shit. annoying you to no end—but it's worth it because you know he's gonna make up for it all with the way he fucks you. and you even tell him to give it to you harder this time. he'll jokingly ask if you can even handle all of him but he knows you take him the best out of all of the other people he fucks.

he gives it to you exactly how you want it. and to the viewers who watch clips of the film, the way he fucks you appears to be so intimate. forehead pressed to yours, staring straight into your eyes as he pile drives into you. burying his full, thick length to the hilt inside of you. occasionally pressing kisses to your forehead and cooing you through the stretch of his cock. he's a complete menace and he knows it, because while he's sweet, he's not afraid to brag about how many people have fallen in love with him and his cock. and with the way he fucks you, it's like he wants you to fall in love. suddenly he's thrusting into you and it's like all the cameras and the crew are long gone, and it's just you and changbin......

point being... I need him

#✰˚. !! dream.hardhours #☁️ — daydream.skz #changbin smut #skz smut #quick lil thot cuz this weed I got is crazy good

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daisykihannie · 2 months

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A little crazy for you (L.MH)

pairing: sex worker!reader (afab) x Obsessed Yandere!Minho (+ Sex worker!Chan, FWB & Assistant!Seungmin, Camera Man!Changbin, Editor!Jisung)

warnings: angst, smut, voyeurism, exhibitionism, sadism, masochism, bdsm, cuckolding gone horribly wrong, straight up porn, minimal to no plot, Violence, gore, blood, squirting, psychological horror, stalking, Assault, Stockholm syndrome, etc.

it's Friday and you know what that means? it's live stream night. Friday's were your busiest nights. The stream would start in approximately 30 minutes, at exactly 9:00 pm just like every other Friday for the last 2 years.

You never thought you'd ever be doing porn in any way, shape, or form but college is expensive. You basically grew up being sexualized and sex was always a fun pastime but, porn was in a totally different league. Now you've been doing it consistently for the last two years and were among some of the top creators.

The routine was the same every Friday. Waking up around 8am, going for your morning run, coming home to feed your cat, taking a nice long boiling hot shower, tidy up your apartment, get your work room set up with your nice plush blankets and pillows, start chugging water, doing your hair and makeup, picking your lingerie and outfit themes, adding decor to match the theme, then setting up your filming equipment.

That's what brings you to the current moment. Sitting pretty on your bed, legs crossed, just waiting for 9pm to hit. Tonight you were dressed like a Playboy Bunny for Easter. There were rabbit stuffed animals and other rabbit and Easter decorations around you. It was far from childish though, more like Easter on molly if that makes any sense.

Not too long after getting situated perfectly for the camera you heard the familiar beep of the camera starting to record and the stream was live. You never have to wait long for the viewer count to go from zero and shoot up to well over 1,000. Seeing the number of viewers shoot up and keep climbing, accompanied by the flood of comments and tips caused your signature smirk to pull at the corners of your lips. The excitement and confidence surging through your veins like the most expensive drug in existence, your personal addiction.

Minho's phone pinged with a new notification. He knew exactly what it was but checked it anyways. The notification was one he'd turned on many months ago, probably a little over a year ago actually. It was 8:50 on a Friday, of course he knew what it'd say without having to check it, the text of the familiar notification engraved into his brain.

The notification read; "Hello, @linosleeknowing! Y/N-ie will be beginning their live stream in ten minutes, don't miss out!" a sigh escaped his lips, raising his eyes from his phone to stare at the profile displayed on his computer monitor again.

Minho always made sure his Friday schedule was completely clear every Friday. He'd go to his classes in the morning, usually getting back home around 3:30pm, feed his three cats, then sit in the chair stationed at his desk and wait for the following 5 and a half hours. He only left his seat to go to the bathroom, grab food and drinks, and feed his cats their dinner. While he waited for the stream to start he'd scroll on his phone, watching cat videos and other mindless entertainment on Tiktok.

Ten minutes later, another ping sounded from his phone and a different notification sound coming from his Computer. The live stream had begun. He clicked on the new thumbnail that popped up and began his fun. Hand subconsciously palming his soft cock over his sweats in anticipation while listening to the woman on the screen talking to her viewers. The Playboy Bunny set up not failing to send all the blood in his body coursing straight to his cock.

He never spoke much in the chat but he made himself known every stream by tipping the streamer often with large amounts of money each time. He was the #1 tipper for her and had been for months.

"Welcome back Linos, I always miss you so much all week. It makes me so happy to see you here, with me, every single Friday for the entire live. You never miss a steam my love~ thank you." The voice alone could make him cum in his pants and he was only about 5 minutes into the stream.

"God... what I wouldn't do just to have on Chance with you." he spoke to his screen but his words only reached his own ears. "My pretty bunny. All mine and only mine. One day, I will have you and never ever let you go. I promise baby." with his words spoken only to himself, he pulled his cock out and did his best to focus on the conversation she was having with the chat but the bunny suit took all of his and his cocks attention.

••••••••• 4 very satisfying hours later ••••••••••

"F-fuck! I can't! shit! I'm gonna cum again. please can I come again? wanna be your good girl and cum again. please?" you begged, loud and panting. Your chest was heaving as you saw the comments flood yet again with permission to reach your 6th orgasm.

When you let go, your screams of overstimulation filled the room again. Your throat was raw and your voice was hoarse. You squirted all over the blankets and the toy that was just pounding relentlessly into you thanks to the very expensive machine you'd bought. You'd be surprised if the camera didn't have your juices covering it, good thing you'd bought a water resistant upgrade after you broke the last one.

After you'd come down from your high completely spent and exhausted, body shaking from the intensity of your orgasms, you said your goodbyes. Your soaked, cum covered cunt gaping and squeezing around air on full display for the camera. Once you heard the same beep from earlier indicating that the stream had ended you let your sore body collapse backwards onto the bed to fully recover before even thinking about trying to use your legs again.

With that, another lucrative Friday night comes to an end at the early hours of 1 in the morning. You cleaned up your mess, took a shower, changed your bedding, and lastly cleaned and put away all your toys and equipment. Once all that was done, you let your body flop onto the fresh sheets. Once you were cozy under the covers you decided it was time to check your earnings from the stream.

"Ah, $6,279 tonight. Not bad Y/N, not bad at all." you let out an exhausted sigh and shut your laptop. You rolled onto your side, hugging your favorite stuffed bear to your chest and fell asleep almost instantly the second your eyelids fluttered closed. Sex, sex work, and porn was fun and extremely rewarding but so so exhausting at the same time.

"Already? I JUST filmed a collab last week didn't I?" your tone exasperated, as you stirred the melting ice in your coffee with the straw. You were currently in a cafe with your assistant discussing your upcoming work schedule.

"Y/N, you know that you film collabs every week. We have this same exact conversation every single week." your assistant spoke with annoyance as he rolled his eyes, the conversation beginning to resemble that of a broken record on loop. Every single week, the same conversation regarding a new collab.

"But Seungmin! Collabs are so exhausting sometimes! It's annoying to have to fake my orgasms half the time. Why is it so hard for some of these guys and girls to make me finish?" you had a pout on your face, giving your assistant puppy dog eyes as if you could get out of it.

"You and I both know that your collabs are in the top most lucrative types of content you make. That's why YOU declared that you'd film them weekly. I didn't choose this for you, Y/N. You did." Seungmin was right but that didn't mean you weren't gonna be a brat and complain about it.

Before he became your assistant, he was your best friend for the last 8 years. He's been supportive of your work since before it started, that's why you offered him the job as your assistant. Not only did he support you but he also made sure you kept your own word. He wouldn't let you stop collaborating with other sex workers because you had specifically told him not to.

"I know I know... Who's it going to be with though? please tell me that I won't have to fake an orgasm for the third week in a row..." you let out a sigh as you ran your hand through your hair, pushing it all back and off your face dramatically like having sex wasn't one of your favorite things in the world.

"It's Chan. You've done a few collabs with him and you've been happy with the results along with your viewers. So, I don't wanna hear anymore complaining." he squinted his eyes at you with an annoyed smile on his lips. You felt your face heat up with the mention of the man, having to squeeze your thighs together from excitement. He was probably the best person to collaborate with.

"Why didn't you say that in the first place!? I wouldn't have complained puppy!" you said a little too loud, gaining judgemental looks from the other patrons in the cafe, especially to the embarrassing nickname you called the male at the table with you. The nickname earning a loud, annoyed, groan to erupt from his chest as he threw his head back and used both his hands to cover his face.

"I told you to stop fucking calling me that Y/N!" he spoke through his hands but the blush that blossomed on his neck and ears reminded you of just how much you still affected him, best friends with benefits and all. He's always been putty in your hands no matter how snarky he'd get with you. It's part of the reason why you loved him so much. Platonically, of course.

"Fuck! oh my g-nnnggh!" you screamed, eyes rolling back as the vibrator was pushed against your clit and the intensity was turned up. Chan's fingers curled skillfully into your dripping cunt as your legs shook violently with your third orgasm. You squirted all over his fingers, his lower abdomen, and the beautiful rock hard cock that was also pushed against the vibrator between your bodies.

"God- you're so fucking pretty like this, I just can't get enough of this sopping cunt, so needy for my cock." Chan spat out as he continued to push you further and further into overstimulation. After you rode out your high, trying to squirm away from the never ending stimulation of the vibrator, Chan finally turned it off. You were panting, chest heaving as drool trickled down your chin.

You were already starting to feel a bit brain dead but there was so much more to be done. You and Chan didn't get to collab often so when you were able to fit time together into your busy schedules, you made the most of it. The two of you were the most popular sex workers on the platform. Him being the #1 male content creator and you being the #1 female content creator. Both of you always had thousands of companies and other content creators from various sites reaching out to work with you.

"Cut!" Changbin yelled, cutting off the camera and grabbing the both of you water bottles. It's already been about two hours since the filming started so it was time for a break to replenish. "Good so far?" you asked your camera man while you and Chan started chugging the ice cold water he'd handed the two of you.

"I don't know why you even feel the need to ask me that." Changbin said with a gruff chuckle slipping from his throat, pants obviously a bit uncomfortable with the tent that'd started forming against the loose grey fabric of his sweats. Changbin always got aroused during filming when you were having a good time. He's worked with you long enough now to know when you faked your orgasms and loved when you didn't have to. You'd be a bit offended if he didn't get hard watching you work.

"I gotta say Bin, your self control is something to be studied. I can't control myself around Y/N, and this is literally my job." Chan's words weren't teasing but of genuine amazement. A small smirk painted his lips as they wrapped around the bottle again. Changbin's ears turned a bright shade of red at the shell in response to Chan's words but he tried to play it off by rolling his eyes. Before Changbin had a chance to retort, the conversation was cut short by a knock at the door.

"Come in!" you yelled in response not bothering to cover up or do anything about the position you and Chan were in. The pretty Australian man still resting on his knees nestled between your shaking thighs. It didn't take long for your other Assistant and editor to join the three of you in the filming room. "What did you guys want to eat? I'm gonna order some take out before you guys get back to it." his words were calm and he was also amazing at acting unaffected, even though Jisung was probably the horniest person you'd ever met.

A smirk reappeared on your lips as you eyed Jisung, Changbin, and Chan up and down before speaking. "Well, I'm currently looking at 3 out of the four things that I'm always craving~" you purred at the three men surrounding you, Seungmin not being there at the moment as the fourth on the list. Maybe the fact that you have a long history with the people who work for you wasn't the most professional but you wouldn't have it any other way.

"I see things never change. One day we should all film a little collab. I'd personally love to get a taste of everyone, Y/N is being a bit too stingy." Chan licked his lips eying all of the boys up and down and you could feel your clit throbbing in response to the idea. Everyone seeming to also, get excited at the idea.

"This is gonna be a very long week isn't it?" you asked no one in particular with a small giggle spilling from your plush lips, knowing that you probably won't be able to walk for the next few days after all the fun the 5 of you, Seungmin included, will end up having.

This wasn't new for Minho at all. Sitting outside of your home, out of view as he watched you through your windows. He couldn't recall when exactly he'd first started stalking you, finding out all your favorite places to go, memorizing all your orders, knowing your schedules down to the last millisecond, he was perfect for you after all.

He also knew that you always kept this particular window cracked during filming so the room wouldn't get too stuffy while you worked. His cock exposed to the cool breeze outside as his small hand pushed himself into his own overstimulation, matching your orgasms almost perfectly. Again, he was absolutely meant for you, you just didn't know that yet.

What was new for Minho was the tight, painful knot that formed in his chest when he saw his best friend Jisung entering your room. It was new for Minho to feel bile rising and burning in the back of his throat seeing you look at Jisung so hungrily. It was new for Minho to feel his own blood boil as it coursed through his veins at the mention of you getting ruined by the other man that his best friend happened to be a part of.

Not only was it angering enough to think of anyone other than him getting to experience your body in ways that was meant for him, and him alone but he was able to handle that considering it was strictly for your job and he didn't know any of the people you worked with. He just needed to wait a bit longer before he could have you all to himself.

But that all changed the second his best friend walked into that room, the second you spoke so casually about letting his best friend have your body in ways he could only dream about, the moment he witnessed your perfectly manicured hands slide under Jisung's shirt exploring the toned muscle underneath, and then when your pulled him down by the collar of his shirt and he could see your tongues dancing together and Jisung's hands meeting your still soaking wet cunt. When he heard the beautiful song of your moans being swallowed by his best friend's mouth, knowing that it should be him making you feel good and not the mother fucker he'd previously called his platonic soulmate, he saw red.

Minho lost it. Fully and completely lost any shred of sanity he had inside his brain. Before he could even think about what he wanted to do, he was climbing through the open window. At some point he'd put his cock away before doing anything, thank god.

As his body made it through the open window and into the room, his hand was in his pocket. His nimble fingers wrapping around the cold metal of the box knife he carried with him at all times. He was so out of it with pure rage that he hadn't realized that he'd just grabbed Jisung by his long brown locks, pulling him off of you as you and the other three men in the room started screaming.

No one could keep up with everything going on as an absolutely stranger broke into your home and grabbed Jisung like he was a rag doll. Screams ripped from Jisung's throat as Minho's grip tightened on his hair, sure to rip it out or even scalp him with the sheer amount of force behind the attack.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" he screamed as his body collided with the floor, his left arm failing to break his fall when a snap echoed through the room and pain shot up his arm from his wrist. Jisung's arm was now broken from trying to catch himself against the hard floor. A blood curdling scream ripped through his body and the stranger was on top of him in a flash. His Knees straddling the small waist of your editor as he locked the younger to the floor with his body weight pressing down on Jisung's abdomen.

"CALL THE COPS! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!? WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?" Changbin's voice ripped through the room and seemed to slightly bring Chan back to reality as he reached for his phone. But before Chan could even unlock his phone, Minho's knife was out of his pocket and the tip of the blade was pushed into the inside of Chan's bare thigh only millimeters away from Chan's Balls. "Put down the phone or I will castrate you." Unfortunately for Chan, grabbing his phone put him far too close to the deranged male for comfort. Not to mention, he was still completely exposed, making him one of Minho's targets aside from Jisung.

Chan's fear caused the phone to slip out of his hands, his natural reflex to catch it before it collided with the floor caused the tip of the sharp blade to push into it's spot on his thigh slightly, breaking the skin and causing blood to start running down the inside of his thigh. A hiss escapes his lips from the stinging pain inflicted by the wound and he froze. "Okay- I-im not calling anyone. J-just remove the knife. please." Chan begged, voice shaking in fear.

"No. Everyone else, throw your phones where his is now or I will make sure that not a single one of you will be able to pleasure yourself or another person ever again, if you can survive the tournament that is." he didn't need to ask twice, everyone on the brink of pissing themselves from fear as they fumbled to throw their phones into some sort of pile on the floor. Hands in the air in submission and fear, showing that they weren't doing anything to anger the ravenette that still sat on top of a very scared Jisung, holding his arm like that'd actually do anything to help the pain from the broken bone.

"M-Minho...? Why- What's going on man?" Jisung's words were shaky and unsure, his sobs of pain cutting between the words that were so much softer than before. That got Minho's attention just for a second, his eyes snapping to meet the tearful ones of the male underneath him before going back to watching the other three individuals in front of him, making sure no one had a chance to try anything while he was distracted.

A sinister laugh escaping the depths of Minho's chest, enticing a new fear from his new found hostages. Jisung didn't even recognize his best friend. There was something so very unsettling about him at this moment. He seemed completely feral right now like a wild animal, deranged even.

"Ah, Jisung..." his words came out sickly sweet, nauseatingly soft and calm as if he didn't have a knife to Chan's Manhood, didn't break Jisung's arm and almost scalp him, etc. His tone was so... innocent and he was so believable too if you didn't witness everything that had happened in the span of 10-15 minutes. "If only I'd known you were the one who'd betray me like this. Trying to steal my Y/N from me..." his pupils were blown wide as he stared down at the male underneath him. " You've been going behind my back and touching what belongs to me!" tone no longer sweet, Minho's words were terrifying.

In one swift motion Minho's hand that was wrapped around the knife that remained nestled against the flesh on Chan's thigh swung downward and impaled Jisung's shoulder and was pulled out just as fast. A blood curdling scream ripped through Jisung as he thrashed under Minho's powerful thighs trying so hard to get away. There was only so much he could do with a broken left arm and his right shoulder pouring blood from the stab wound.

Minho had his knife back on Chan again but instead of being at his inner thigh, the now bloody blade made its home at the base of Chan's cock, the edge of the blade pushing into the skin but not enough to break it. But, just one tiny move from Chan would have his cock cut clean off, that realization causing every muscle in his body to tense as he screwed his eyes shut trying to calm his hyperventilating into normal breaths again.

You were frozen in fear, watching the scene play out before you. "W-who are you... why are you doing this?" your voice was small and weak, your muscles tense as your form shook on the bed, absolutely petrified. Even with your voice small, The stranger heard it. His dark, cold eyes locking on your tear filled ones. It may be the fear making your delirious but you could've sworn that his eyes softened, small twinkling stars dancing through the black orbs. Your heart skipped a beat. He was so... pretty?

"Oh, Y/N-ie my love. I'm so sorry we had to meet officially like this. Trust me, you know me so so much more than you think." he cooed and for some reason you felt your cheeks heat up at the soft, sweet words that carried no malice. The 180⁰ shift taking you by surprise as the world began to get drowned out. You were captivated and Hypnotized by his gaze, his soft bunny smile, his strong nose. He really was like a beautiful statue crafted out of marble. Breathtakingly Gorgeous.

It was silent for a while, the two of you in your own world, no one moving, no one speaking, nothing as important as the two of you, together in this moment. "Linos." was the only thing to fall from those gorgeous pink lips, that word bouncing off every surface of your skull as you remember him from your lives and your past interactions.

"My Linos..." the words slipped out before you could catch them. The fan you'd been secretly harboring a crush for was in your room, his appearance more gorgeous than you'd ever imagined. He was everything you'd dreamt of and so so much more. The entire fiasco leading up to this moment completely leaving your mind because HE was here. HE was with you now.

"Yes, Y/N-ie. I'm yours, always have been and you're mine. I couldn't stomach seeing them touching you in the ways that are meant for me and only me. I'm so sorry it went this far, I just-" Minho was cut off by your hand softly resting against his slightly bloody cheek. Your thumb brushed over the soft skin under his eye as he nuzzled into your hand. You didn't understand what was happening to you. You should be angry, terrified, calling the cops but you just couldn't do that to him.

Suddenly your lips were on his, your body completely under his spell, your heart racing as your lips danced together so perfectly in sync, fireworks erupting on your skin everywhere his touches landed, where his breath grazed across your skin and your body was calm, euphoric, in absolute bliss. A bliss you've never felt before. A feeling of safety wrapped around your heart as the kiss continued. Safe. Home. Minho was your home and you'd finally found him.

When the two of you pulled away, you could barely tear your gazes off one another as your eyes searched your room, remembering the other men that were there. Passed out, they'd fainted. All of them unconscious on the floor, adrenaline finally worn off. Your eyes went back to Minho before you spoke again. "What do we do about them?" you asked Minho trusting him completely for some reason.

"I don't wanna kill them if I don't have to, I will if it means keeping you safe..." there was a pause, Minho was genuinely thinking about what to do.

"No. No killing love, I just found you. I don't want you going to prison." you hummed after your words filled the room and both your ears. You looked down again at the three men unconscious on your floor. An idea coming to mind as to what to do.

"Concussions." was all you said and it was as if Minho knew exactly what you were thinking. If they all had concussions their memories would be fogged for sure. Then you could take Jisung to the hospital, saying that he'd been attacked and then you'd be able to lie to them all about what'd happened tonight, who Minho was, how the two of you met, etc. and everything would be fine. You'd be able to live in your happy little world with Minho, Jisung, Changbin, Seungmin, and Chan.

Everything

was going to be

just fine.

This honestly went so far off track of what I was planning but um, here it is?? I'm so sorry it's not one of my faves at all but I wanted to get this out for you guys:(

#skz #skz imagines #skz smut #stray kids #skz x reader #straykids smut #stray kids fanfic #skz angst #straykids angst #stray kids angst

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