#like i want a face a name and a fully fleshed out personality for THE PEOPLE IN MY STORIES

[ujunxverse]

for the real ones that know how much i want to write a succession!au fic, here's the bad news first: yuppie!yeonjun and his parasite/fraud au meets succession may not come to fruition BUT fear not, for succession shimkongz WILL BE here, and she will be CHAPTERED. NO MORE FORMATTING ISSUES ON THIS HELLSITE OR HAVING TO SCROLL AND GET LOST. NEATLY ORGANIZED CHAPTERS!

[rreids]

ok ok ok i see this lingerie set all the time on instagram and ive always wondered how spencer would react you buying/wearing it if you are doing fic requests 👀

https://www.adoreme.com/gynger-white-1

ANGEL • S. REID X READER

fem reader; fingering; kissing; praise and compliments; description of the linked lingerie above; mentions of alcohol consumption; spencer loves you; ~1.5k words

“You look pretty today,” Spencer tells you, breaking the lull in conversation. You’re watching a movie — though neither of you are really paying attention by now, wrapped up in soft whispers and gentle loving caresses. 

You shy from the attention, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Really!” His voice pitches up a little. “You’re beautiful,”

You smile into his skin, curling into his chest fully. “Thank you, Spence,”

He hums when you press a kiss to the column of his throat, relaxing as you place more and more on him. “Do you always get so affectionate when complimented?”

You shake your head and meet his eyes, head a mess of affection and want for the man in front of you. “Just when I really like the person they're from…” you mumble, toying with the bottom of your shirt as you look down. “‘nd when I’m a little wine drunk.”

Spencer laughs softly, fondly, sits up enough to press his lips to yours. He’s been drinking some, too, but he always cuts himself off early and has a higher tolerance. You sigh, curl your fingers into his shoulders and move forward without breaking contact. You slide into his lap, head tilting as he deepens the kiss easily, fingers kneading and rolling the soft flesh of your thighs as he guides your rhythm.

Each time you push for it to move, he pulls back slightly with a smile, looks at you so sweet, and then he kisses you slowly. So slowly. You want nothing more than for him to speed up, but the syrupy and molasses-like slowness and sweetness has heat bubbling up in your core. Without even realizing it, you’re sighing into his kiss, letting out soft gasping sounds of need as you seek friction — hips grinding small circles against him, pressure increasing as you find just the right angle. 

He makes no moves to stop you, but he doesn’t help you either. Eventually, he can’t stop smiling against you and pulls back just enough to look down at the needy circles you’re making against him. Spencer swallows, words dying on his tongue when you shudder, a bolt of pleasure making you dig your nails into his shoulders more harshly. He winces but allows it, pressing forward with more urgency and a deeper kiss. He groans against you when your movements brush against his arousal and you quiver in his grip, muscles tense and skin hot like a live wire.

“Spencer,” you whisper, unable to stop your rocking even then.

“Honey,” his voice is gravely and low, eyes darker as he studies you. He’s watching every small change to your expression as you grind against him, and you whine when he restrains himself from guiding you — he clearly wants to, hands tightening on your hips to the point you know you’ll have bruises.

“More,” you rush out the plea in a sigh, pulling at his shirt. “Anything, just want you.”

“You have me.” Spencer reassures, voice thick. He clears his throat. “I’m all yours, angel girl.”

The pet name spurs you, lips quirking up in a smile. He catches it, brows raising as he licks his own lips.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you’re a terrible liar, even more so when you’re lying to a behavior analyst (you prefer to call him a mind reader), and your long-term boyfriend.

“Really?” He humors you, tempering his smile to look more neutral. “Nothing you want to tell me?”

“Nope!” You chirp, too eager. You guide his hands from your stilled hips to the zipper of hoodie. “Something to show you.”

“I thought there was nothing,” Spencer hums teasingly, slowly tugging the cool metal down your body. His remarks die on his tongue as you shrug the fabric back off your shoulders and down, revealing the lingerie you’d bought.

There’s a ribbon over your breasts, presenting a perfect present to him, a mesh window below it to peer into your cleavage. The ribbon guides his eyes down your waist, and he wonders what the panties look like beneath your shorts.

Spencer searches your face briefly, catching your smile as his eyes fall helplessly back to your chest. “So…– so pretty,” he manages, stumbling over the words. He raises his hands to trail the ribbon and press against the thin mesh window, feeling the weight and heat of your skin through the sheer fabric.

“You like it?” You ask, more so to force words out of him than for reassurance.

He snaps his gaze to your face and nods, kissing you quickly. “You’re perfect, angel. All dolled up like a present,” he slides one bra strap off your shoulder and kisses the skin as he lets it fall. “My perfect gift,”

He tells you often you’re all he ever wants, and as much as that frustrates you when you’re trying to buy him a birthday present, it serves now as a stoke to the flames of your desire. All he wants is you and your beauty, all he can think of is your body.

He unclasps the back of the bra, tugging the ribbon playfully in a pretend untying before tugging it from you. His head dips, pressing kisses and sucking on the sensitive skin. Not enough to leave marks, you always complained about the tenderness, but enough that you arch up into the heat of his mouth and tug him closer by his hair.

“Spencer,” you whisper. “Wanna see my panties?”

He exhales softly, like the amused snort he does through his nose. “Would I ever say no?”

You tilt your head at him. “Well, sorry I wanted explicit consent,”

Spencer shakes his head fondly, kissing your cheek. “Thank you, honey. But yes, I want to see. I want to see all of you,”

You stand and turn so he gets the best sight of your panties as you slide the shorts down — the ribbon over your butt, the smaller strip of fabric that cups the flesh in a way that accentuates every piece of you. You twirl and he presses a kiss to your stomach. It’s ticklish, makes you giggle, and his chin digs into your skin a little as he looks up at you, tracing shapes on your inner thighs so lightly it almost stings from the sensitivity.

You blink at him and he only huffs a laugh, trailing up to the wet patch on your panties. Your knees buckle a little, but he catches you like he always does, guides you back down to him and his mouth. You kiss him like he’s the air you need, whining softly in the back of your throat as he snaps the waistband of the white fabric against you before tugging them to the side. The simultaneous friction of the fabric and his fingers, finding purchase and a rhythm in your slickness, has you shuddering. 

His fingers are always calloused perfectly for this, giving a roughness that contrasts the gentle crook of his fingers and the methodical pace, a perfect mind-numbing mix of everything him. His gentleness betrays him even when you ask him to be rougher; in stolen and short kisses; the affectionate brush of his hand over your insecurities and most sensitive skin; in the way he adjusts perfectly to your non-verbal tells before you even know to voice something.

He’s perfectly attuned to you and your body.

“You’re dripping,” Spencer whispers, awed, and you realize then the sloppy sounds your cunt makes on his hand. You squirm but he shushes you, clicking his tongue. “Such a good girl. Always so ready and willing,”

You whine, grinding down into the palm of his hand as he crooks his fingers just right and eases just that bit further into you. You clench at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut when you can’t handle the sight of his pretty face and intentness on your pleasure in tandem with the feeling anymore.

“Come on,” he urges. “Let go for me,”

He keeps working you, thumb rolling your clit in a mind-numbing tempo that perfectly offsets and melds with his fingers.

“There you go,” he whispers, awed, as your body arches and tenses as the pleasure crescendos and crashes into you in waves, leaving you whimpering and chest heaving as you try to come back from the sea. Spencer’s got you, as he always does, kissing your sweat-slicked skin and whispering praises, a soothing thumb (the clean one) running over your cheek into your nuzzle into his hand. “You did so well, angel,”

You reach for his sweatpants, but he presses back just out of reach. “Give yourself a second.”

“But I want you,” you urge, and Spencer only smiles, unabashed and unreserved fondness.

“And you’ll have it. I’m not going anywhere.”

trying something new both in writing style and characterization bc i am frustrated with how i do both 🫡

[chrollohearttags]

snooze • portgas d. ace

your boyfriend can’t sleep unless you’re by his side..for many reasons.

sleepy/sonmo sex, hints of free use, modern au, black fem reader, early morning quickie, creampie, nipple play, teasing, him whimpering a lot :(, just some domestic, soft smut, pet names used

word count: 2.0K

📝: as you all can see, my brainrot for this man has become so god awful, I fear it will take a shovel to dig me out of these trenches. But I love it here! (also, the title is not based off of the song by any means.)

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿

2:15AM…

night had long fell cast over the sky..faint inklings of stars littered the black backdrop as tiny white dots. The vibrant moon illuminating the entirety of the sleepless city as the daily bustle of blaring car horns and menial chatter has slowed to the sounds of a few cars either heading home or starting the day early. Through the window of the third story apartment where you resided..shined a single beam of light on two sleeping bodies. Entangled in the warmth of the sheets on the chilly winter night..underneath, limbs intertwined as you enjoyed the bliss of sweet slumber..

“Mmmph..”

faint mumbles arose as they vibrated against the crook of your neck. Your boyfriend’s face was nuzzled between the crevice of your neck as he shuffled around in his sleep. His muscular, inked up forearms coiled around your waist with his hands placed to your abdomen; holding you close to him. Nowhere else in the world that either of you would rather have been..it was paradise, an absolute dream..and for your doting, sweet man..he was enjoying it quite a bit! The friction of his lower half rubbing against your backside; gently rutting his hips into your plump flesh as to not ruffle too much but make you subtly aware of his intentions. Those hands eventually roamed from your waist and tummy to the top of your body, resting idly on your breasts. He seemed restless, for a better lack of terms. Although he probably slept more than the average person due to his narcolepsy, Ace did have his weaknesses. For example, he couldn’t be at peace unless you were plastered to his side. You were his comfort, his peace and he couldn’t function unless you were right there. But alas, it wasn’t the only reason he enjoyed lying next to you every night..it definitely had its other perks. Just like at that moment, where he was toiling with the lace on your short silk teddy. The one that barely even covered your ass as you walked away..the one that had his mind straying to less than savory thoughts when you were awake. It couldn’t be helped..your body was an absolute work of art that he could admire for hours on end and never grow tired. Neither one of your eyes were open; still far too exhausted to do so, but he’d slowly feel you up as you laid there quietly. Running his fingertips along the delicate portions of your skin, still muttering and eventually, leaving gentle pecks on your shoulder blade. “Baby…” the only thing he managed to get out before muttering against your neck once more.

Meanwhile, you could still feel his pelvis bumping against you..naturally, you didn't hesitate to meet him halfway. It was obvious that neither of you were going to truly be able to rest until you achieved your mutual goal. Because truth be told, when you couldn’t doze off the way you wanted or your body wanted craved more than just sleep to replenish it, there was only one way to quell that urge:

“..need you so bad..”

hell, it was all the more fun when you pretended to be fully asleep..giving him full fledged permission to use your body when he saw fit. Taking claim to it when he was ready. Sometimes, you loved it when he woke you up with his cock nestled deeply inside of you or vice versa, when your pretty little lips, wrapped around his shaft, drove him out of slumber. It was easy to surmise that he was going to take advantage of said consent..made things all the more sexier. Still mumbling, you’d begin to whine very faintly as you felt the covering of your top be pulled down and your nipples exposed to the cool air. They were erect and sensitive to the touch. Practically writhing each time he so much as even brushed them. By this time, you were also wiggling your hips and bogging yourself onto his crotch. It was clear that things were about to intensify and neither of you wanted to put a halt to this little charade either.

2:30AM…

“..you’re so wet, baby..this all f’r me?’ His words seem to have fallen on deaf ears but he could tell by your physical reaction, that wasn’t the case..you were clutching the sheets far too tight for someone that couldn’t feel a thing. You were only becoming more and more aroused by the minute..that silky slick coating his fingertips. Meanwhile, you could feel his bulge pressing against your cheeks..so swollen, it were as if he’d burst any minute. “Don’t be shy, you can tell me..” a faint chuckle rising among his deep voice, rattling off whilst he held you close. This man had talked you through many orgasms with that heavy tone of his and he knew how much you loved when he spoke to you all quietly like this. “That’s okay..I know what you need..” he was very much vocal and yet, he was still seemingly asleep. His eyes still shut!..but it wouldn’t remain that way for long because as Ace reached down to tug at his waistband, removing his cock from its confines, (y/n) very subtly hoisted your leg, assuring him that you wanted this just as badly..taking the hint, he’d clutch your waist and pull you towards him, smacking that tip to that warm, juicy slit of yours. Almost as if his senses were incredibly heightened..his mind constructing a roadmap of your beautiful body and no vision was needed. A giant smirk lay plastered across his face. He couldn’t wait to be inside of you.. “Let me have you, please..fuck..” that once deep voice becoming desperate and whimpering in a high pitched wail; that mushroom tip aching and leaking with the absolute need to be fill your hole. To take claim of your special spot only the way he knew how.. “..shit..” “..mmph!” Simultaneously reactions from each of you. It seemed that you could no longer maintain your silent charade and he could no longer fight those insatiable urges..and both of you were ready to fuck until your bodies truly tired out beyond repair. The kind that would undoubtedly put you right back to sleep..

2:40AM

sounds of clashing flesh ricocheted around the room, the clapping noises of his pelvis colliding with your heavy asscheeks as he pounded into you. A cusped hand stationed around your throat to keep you reigned in when you began to pull away from the strokes he was feeding your greedy cunt. Unable to quell his whiny cries because of the sensation. He’d never felt anything like it! So warm and silky..it was a miracle he hadn’t gotten you pregnant yet..constantly finding it hard to pull out once he was inside of you. Rutting into you like a pathetic pup rutting his pillow. A sheath of wetness forming from the constant thrusting..and his earlier teasing. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight, baby..pussy’s so fucking good..” the sweet nothings rattled off into your ear with his dick nestled deep between your folds.. “..shit! Right there..so good..” heavy huffs breathing down your neck whilst he persisted. Pulling you even closer, Ace tilted your head back slightly to lace your jawline and throat with sloppy pecks. It was absolute bliss if you’ve ever felt it. “I love you..love you so fucking much, baby. Thank you for letting me wake you up like this..” a faint chuckle arising from between his moans. It was blatantly clear to see that he was enjoying this little early morning rendezvous more than you could imagine. “I love you—oh fuck!…’s too much..'' crying out with your hand smacking the mattress and clutching the sheets. Your legs shook violently and all you could do was withstand the sensation of that thick, throbbing cock bottoming out inside of you. Sometimes, it was a miracle if you could fit it all..he was so lengthy as well and you’d oftentimes find yourself begging him to take some out around the five inch mark. “Aw, baby..you’re so small. Just makes stretching you out all the more fun..” referencing not your body type, but rather that pretty pussy..regardless of how many times you two had sex, you still managed to wrap around and squeeze him to no end. Cream slathered all down the entrance and he would lean up to examine the mess, along with the ripple of your thick ass via the moonlight..

2:48AM

“F-fuck..gonna come, daddy..please!”

“Ooh, I love when you call me that..are you gonna let go f’r me, sweetheart?”

Still lying on your side with your leg hoisted high, he’d continue going..even teasing your clit to add to the euphoric feeling. Both of your eyes had peeled wide open and there was no halting this passionate round of love making. The name causes a throbbing sensation to rattle off inside of you as his cock twitches yet again.

“So let me see that pretty face when you do, baby. Come on, let it out—“ amid the resuming of his deep strokes, Ace would coddle your face in his palm, sweet talking you through that impending orgasm. Spinning your face around to meet his own. He was always such a kind and attentive lover. Making certain that you got yours long before his own. His true satisfaction lies in seeing you grip the sheets and call out his name. It didn’t take long before he was granted his wish and you were heaving as that orgasm came barreling out of that entrance and splattering his thighs as he fucked it out of you slowly. Emitting gentle streams with each thrust until you couldn’t spill another drop.

“Aww, good girl..good girl..you’re squirting. So fucking wet..I love it.”

you’d find yourself caught in another kiss shortly thereafter; passionately and slowly…but that wasn’t the end of this. He needed to keep going until he had nothing else left to offer..until you were filled to the brim with every last drop of him. “Nnnngh!..” “I know, pretty..I know..but you’re doing such a good job..I don’t wanna stop.” Growling and laughing in your ear as his strokes became a lot rougher and more sporadic. He was nearing his peak. That much was evident by the way his nails dug into the flesh of your hip. Met with the recoil of your thick ass each time. You were squeezing him so tight, he could barely withstand it. So with a couple more sharp, pounding thrusts, you’d find your boyfriend clutching onto your skin and drilling until you felt it all come to an abrupt halt.. “f..fuck!..hold still, baby. I’m so close—“ a mere few seconds later, you’d feel his movements cease but those hot, thick ropes of cum pouring into your womb. Filling you up with every ounce of his seed until he couldn’t go any further. Whimpering and crying out for you in the process. Begging you to let him breed you..and once he finished, Ace would remain inside of that tight cunt, stroking the side of your face and marking your temple with light kisses.

“That was perfect, sweetheart..”

“Yeah..thank you, baby..”

3:00AM

[ridingthatd]

Can I request reader accidentally peeing on jjk men during sex and how they would react, please 🙏🏽

If you don't want to do this, though, it's ok :)

୨୧˚ ˚୨୧ OVER SIMULATION

୨୧˚ ˚୨୧ chosoxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, kinky asf, choso filthy, squirting

you have never thought that what's happening right now could ever happen.

choso kamo. choso was new to the way his body acted. he was new to all the emotions humans held. he was new to feeling any sort of ways- that he himself couldn't even describe.

choso is a half-human, half-cursed spirit with a body of flesh and blood. choso has always been calm, collective and non-threatening unless it involves his family, whom he has a special bond with and seeks to avenge their deaths.

but something have been messing with his compose, making him confused on what was he feeling. something more like- someone a specific person have been playing with his peaceful mind and body.

at first choso was convinced maybe it was a curse technique , a curse technique that has his body feeling tingles- ready to explode, that has his body burning up like he's bathing in a hot spring, that has his mind foggy- filled with your scent, filled with images of your body, filled with the memories of your ghost touch- so soft, so warm, every touch of yours left a fire trial on him.

but it made him even more confused to know that no- it wasn't a cursed technique . he tried and tried and tried, choso lost count on how many times he tried to avoid the feeling, to push the strong heat, to focus on something else other then you- to focus on his brothers, but he failed.

he couldn't push those feelings away, it was the opposite, he craved them, he wanted more no- he needed more. he needed more of your touchs, he needed more of your scent, he needed more of your body heat on his. he craved it- he craved the way your mouth quirk up, the way the two plumpy glands of yours boucned up each time you giggled, he need to have a feel of them. he needed to have a feel- the swaynes of your hips always caught his dark eyes.

he needed all of you.

choso chuckled darkly to himself, chuckling like a maniac- smirking as he looks at the throbbing fat cock in his huge hands. leaking precum from his red clit, ready to breed the person that's been messing with his soul.

so this is why he's been feeling this way? he wanted to knot you up, his smile widen- "y/n, my y/n you're going to be added to my family" he huffs out firmly, his fat cock twitching at the thought of you all knocked up with his seed, giving him his own little family.

he wants you so bad, he thrust his hips up groaning as cold air hits his burning aching cock, he was so red- so close to exploding.

his cock always been active ready to mate you whenever he's around you- whenever he thinks about you. even though he held a straight firm face but his mind and body were screaming, cock leaking in his pants- demanding your warm pussy. demanding to fill it up with his seeds. demanding to have you right here.

his mind runs around with ways- with fantasies about you, things he can do to you, getting your womb round and nice with his seed while your two soft glands- boobs filled with milk- his milk, he would greedily suck on them drink your milk whenever he wants, suckling on the hard bud while your white liquid gush out of it like a streaming river- a streaming river ready to feed the starved man.

he can make you whine his name, he wants to make you feel good just like you make him feel good, choso wasn't experienced but he wanna learn- learn ways he can make you lose your mind. fuck you, breed you, he wanna stuff you with his cum, he wanna see his cum squirting out of your pussy from being to stuffed, he wanna-

cum squirts out of his fat cock, thighs thrusting in the air, heavy breathing, choso didn't notice the spit running down his mouth.

he looks down at his cock hoping it's down- just to see it up again, fully hard still demanding your tight little pussy.

he whimpers as he touchs the tip- he was so sensitive, frustration tears fills his eyes as he whines out a-

"need to fill you"

you have never thought that what's happening right now could ever happen.

choso kamo. here he was standing in the door way of your dorm. he always had his hair up in a ponytail but this time it was down.

"can you help me please?" he whines out- almost sounded like he was on average of crying.

and you don't blame him as you stare at his huge leaking cock, his tip was so red as the precum trail down to the veins that surrounded his cock. it twitched at the attention you were giving it- your heated eyes on it, lips between your teeth.

choso can't take it anymore as he makes his way towards you, holding his cock in his hand- giving it firm strokes, whimpering in process. "I don't know what to do" you feel his hot breath on the shell of your ears as he mutters out.

"choso i-" you were cut off by his body weight pushing you into your bed, his cock still in his hand Shamesly stroking it as he looks at you- eyes hazy filled with lust, mouth half open as shakily breaths out.

"please y/n" he whines out, his hips thrusting up to meet his hand- oh god, oh god you were for sure gonna regret your next decision.

choso whimpers as you gently yet painfully stroke his fat cock, precum drenching your hand, nothing but wet sounds coming from your hand making contact with his cock fills the room. you slowly circle the red tip, swirling his cum causing choso to shudder and snuggle his face into your neck, feeling his warm breath on you.

"shhh I know, baby I know" you softly whisper as you feel his hot tears trailing down your neck- poor baby it was clearly new for him, the sensation was to much. choso slowly trail his nose down your neck to the cleavage of your boobs breathing in your scent.

from the corner of your eyes you can see him looking at them hungerly, mouth aching watering to lash on your nipple that were poking under your shirt begging for his warm tongue to relief them.

"can I?" choso questions as he slowly push your shirt up, you eagerly nodded to high on pleasure to even think twice. choso admires your plumpy boobs- boobs that were ready to be filled with milk very soon he thought, as soon as he lash on your nipples he let's out a vulnerable, his hips automatically jerks into your hand as you fondle his heavy balls.

your jerks started to become sloppy and fast- his hips matching your pace, whining into your nipples, your sensitive nipples that were filled with his spit- every inch was covered with his spit that left a string connected to his mouth.

"ah- y/n I'm gonna-" he groans out as he takes a nipple he been sucking on with a pop. your hands only go faster, your panties were a pool now, you have never been this turned on your whole life.

"let it all out baby" you softly whisper, giving a last painful tug before he's spilling all his cum on your hands, hips jerking- god it was so hot, it was a lot, he came with shoots, body still jerking- twitching.

you thought this was gonna end, you thought he was going to be exhausted but oh how wrong you were cause choso pins you down on your bed, desperately shoving his tongue into your mouth, wanting your taste.

you let out a moan as you feel his large hands tear your panties without hesitation, he pulls away, you gasp as you feel his warm spit hitting your pussy, drooling on it, completely lost in the wetness of it.

"lemme make you feel good" he hurriedly says, not even letting you answer as he burry his face into your pussy, stroking his face on it smudging all your wetness.

"tell me how can I make you feel good please-fuck please" how can you deny him anything when he's looking at you this way between your legs. hair down, face red, drool leaving his mouth, eyes hazy.

"lick me down here baby" you say guiding his hand into your pussy, groaning at the feeling. choso eyes widen, he whines before his body jerks and he cums on your sheets- he cums just from you saying that.

"fuck I can't- fuck" you gasp as he eagerly burry his nose inside your pussy, sniffing before he dives in, locking his mouth into clit, lapping like a maniac.

"choso slow-" you scream as he shove his thumb into your ass, you look down at him with tears just to see him smiling at you.

"this hole mine to" he whispers before kissing your clit and latching on it again, maintaining eye contact with you as his thumb hit a spot inside of you.

you cry out, body shaking, hes licking you like a beast- his tongue tongue his tongue was inhumane, going from your asshole licking over his thumb that was plugged inside your ass before swirling back to your clit and pussy.

your eyes widen as you feel a huge earge of peeing- you harshly tug on his hair, trying to move, your stomach shrinks once you say the way he grales at you for denying his meal, shoving another finger as a punishment.

"no- I have to- I have to pee" you whine struggling to hold the feeling but your words only seem to make him eat you more aggressively, having him hump the bed so excited at yours words, groaning.

"in my mouth please let it in my mouth" he moans mouth full of your pussy, your bed start creaking at his hard humps, as soon as you feel him adding a 3rd finger in you lose it all.

you squirt out with a scream, hot stream leaving your pussy and spilling on his face- choso whimpers once he feels the hot liquid, opening his mouth wide, drinking in the hot liquid that kept gushing out, your body shakes- you cry ashamed and turned on by what's happening.

your stream kept going- making choso roll his eyes back into his skull and cumming undone for the 3rd time on your bed sheets, locking his mouth into your tiny pee opening just below your clit, drinking in every last drop.

you lay down twitching every once in awhile as chosos hot breath lands on your pussy, you wanted to die from how embarrassed you felt- ashamed that you had peed on non other then choso.

"one more please?" choso whispers into your pussy giving it kitten licks, staring at you.

you were doomed.

[explicit-tae]

for ungodly hour couple can we have jk flirt with another girl or smth to try and get a reaction out of oc so he can be like "told you youre down bad look how jealous you got" but it backfires bc she flirts w someone else right back but it ends with them fucking anyway and making up 😭🫶

I actually like the idea of that so I'll just make a quick one-shot of it 🤣

ungodly hour

Word Count: 4.297

Warning: jealous reader, jealous jungkook, smut, yelling, kissing, dirty talking, simp jungkook, tsundere reader ofc, 69 position, oral (f/m receiving), spitting, competative jk sigh, face riding, competence kink, cum-swallowing,

“Well, well,” Jimin says as he looks up to spot you. He’s seated inside the college library at a once empty desk before you occupied it. “If it isn’t Y/N.”

You want to roll your eyes at the tone in Jimin’s voice. “In the flesh.” you say.

“What do I owe the unwelcomed visit?” Jimin drops the pen he was using to continue speaking with you.

“Ugh, Jimin, cut the shit.” you place your bag upon the table. “Jungkook told me you like me and us together.”

Jimin snickers. “I enjoy seeing my friend happy, I suppose.” he shrugs. 

“I guess that means we’re the same.” you retort.

“I'd like to say you’re more of a bitch with an attitude.” Jimin scoffs.

Your eyes widen, but you don’t want to say what you really want to - you and he would be bantering in the library and kicked out. 

You take a deep breath. “I’m going to regret this.” you murmur more to yourself than to Jimin, but the man hears and now he’s intrigued. “I need your help.”

Jimin is in fact intrigued. His attention is fully on you now. “My help?”

You nod.

“What can I give you that you can’t go to Jungkook for?” Jimin snickers.

You don’t answer and noticing, Jimin begins to smirk. 

“What do I get out of it?” 

You sigh loudly. “What do you want?” you grumble, eyes glaring at the older man.

“First, tell me what you want.” Jimin closes his textbook, finding you here before him more interesting.

You swallow. Your body was feeling hot with nerves.

You hoped Jimin wouldn’t laugh in your face and further humiliate you - or even make it worse by telling Jungkook. 

“I want to make Jungkook jealous.” you murmur so low that Jimin has to think hard to see if he’s heard you correctly. 

Jimin then begins to chuckle to himself, leaning back into the library chair. “Ah, so he was right when he told me you were jealous.”

You widen your eyes. “He told you that?!” you hiss lowly, feeling your hands clenched into fists. 

It was a week prior when it began. You and Jungkook had classes that same day, him being done only an hour before yours ended. He had texted you that he’d be in the dining hall - typical for Jungkook and his near never ending hunger. You’d usually always catch him there with someone - his friends, mostly.

That day, however, it was neither. It was a person you’ve never seen before - a girl. 

You recall the way your pace slowed as you caught where he stood, her across from him. He was nodding to something she was saying. It happens suddenly, however, the way Jungkook responds back (inaudible to you) and the girl laughs loudly. You are only a few feet away when you see the way she touches Jungkook’s chest, coming even closer.

Jungkook looks directly behind the girl and his lips form a smile. “Y/N!” he had called your name, nodding to the girl before making his way towards you. Your eyes locked to the girl he was speaking to - the look in her eyes was one you were all too familiar with. “You ready to go?” he asks you and you nodded your head, remaining silent.

“Yes, he did.” Jimin smirks at your reaction. “Said you were snappy the entire time.”

“I was not.” you declare, but you were. After all, Jungkook pursued you for months before you gave him a chance before you ultimately agreed to being his girlfriend. He had to know that was a privilege.

“Sure.” Jimin shrugs at your obvious lie. “Then why are you trying to make him jealous?”

You were beginning to regret coming to Jimin - you didn’t need him going to Jungkook with this. It would just fuel his teasing and that’s not something you wanted. 

You didn’t consider yourself to be the jealous type and you didn’t care who Jungkook was friends with - male or female. However, it was the way Jungkook reacted. His mind clicked when you were a bit distant and snappy, and that’s where it began. “You’re jealous.” he says, stopping in his tracks suddenly. You and he were halfway to his car when he made the revelation, eyes wide and soon, a smirk forming onto his lips. “That’s good. That means we’re one step closer to admitting you like me.”

And it didn’t get better. At every given chance, Jungkook would bring up Sia - the girl he was speaking to. “Sia said this ice-cream shop downtown is good. We should go.”, “Sia says this movie was good, let’s watch it together.” and it went on and on until you eventually snapped at him.

 Jungkook does it for a reaction - a scoff, a roll in your eyes or even a glare. When you snapped at him, declaring “If you’re going to keep talking about what she likes then you mind as well fuck her.”, it’s disgusting to admit that your tone turned him on - mixed with the angered look in your eyes. 

It gets the man going knowing that even you could be jealous. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do, but he enjoys teasing you. “You’re so down bad for me, baby. I can see it in your eyes.” he’d say. “You know you’re the only girl for me, Y/N. You don’t have to be jealous.”

“Give him a taste of his own medicine.” you shrug your shoulders. You didn’t want to go into any more detail with Jimin, after all, Jungkook was his friend. He probably already knows enough.

And know enough Jimin does. It was a week ago today when he got a call from Jungkook, asking for advice. “Maybe she’s jealous.” Jimin told him over the phone. “You can be oblivious to when girls are flirting with you.”

“Who? Sia?” Jungkook had scoffed. He hasn’t thought about other girls in months, not since he and you became intimate. “I never knew Y/N could get like that…” Jungkook trailed off, a tone that was all too familiar to Jimin. The younger man was plotting.

“You’re going to make her jealous, aren’t you?” Jimin scoffed. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“You’re team Y/N now?” Jungkook asked. “I’m not going to flirt with Sia or even be around her. I just want Y/N to admit that she likes me.” he revealed truthfully. “Without me having to fuck it out of her.”

“Does her being with you not mean she likes you?” Jimin furrows his brows. Jungkook could be on the dumb side sometimes and the fact that he had to defend you made him want to gag. But for months it was apparent that you liked Jungkook more than you’d let on - Jimin had to hear it when Jungkook called him nearly in tears when you called yourself “his girl”.

“Stop trying to sound smart, hyung. I just want to hear her say it.” And that’s where it began - each time Jungkook got a reaction out of you, he’d tell Jimin. It was a matter of time before you’d snap - and you did; now sitting before him.

“I see. I help you and you help me.” Jimin leans forward. “Starting with what I want.”

You wait for Jimin to speak, and when he does, you’re left dumbfounded. 

“What’s the password to all of the streaming services?”

You blink a few times, trying to register what Jimin said. “That’s…out of everything you can ask for-”

“I need to get back to The Real Housewives.” Jimin waves you off. “Now, passwords before I help you.”

“YNloves97.” you tilt your head.

Jimin rolls his eyes. “I hate simps.” he murmurs, but he writes it down on a sheet of paper before turning his attention back to you. “Now, how far are you trying to go?”

You swallow. “Not that far.” you admit. You couldn’t see yourself flirting with someone else - besides, Jungkook would know you were trying to make him jealous and that would make his head grow even bigger.

“I know my friend, Y/N. If you try too hard, he’s not going to fall for it. You have to be subtle.” Jimin exclaims. “He knows how unapproachable you are.”

“Unapproachable?” you’re taken aback once more at Jimin’s choice of words. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said. You have a resting bitch face and you’ve turned down so many guys that no one wants to approach you anymore. Jungkook is seen as a conqueror for being able to have you.” Jimin states matter-of-factly.

You sigh in defeat because damn was Jimin correct. You recall back when Jungkook and you went on the “picnic-movie-dinner” and he exclaimed how he knows there's guys that want you, but he was the one that had you.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook.

Jimin swallows, a disdainful look in his eyes. “Do you want to hangout?”

“What?”

“Do you…want to hangout?” Jimin repeats, appearing even more disgusted. “It’s part of the plan, trust me.”

“I-I guess.” you murmur, unsure of how this was going to go. But Jimin and Jungkook were best friends and if you were going to trust anyone about your plan, it’d have to be him.

The following week goes by and Jungkook notices a shift.

The most uncommon shift was you and Jimin together. When you had told Jungkook that you couldn’t study with him because you were doing so with Jimin, he had laughed. He assumed it was a joke, until it wasn’t.

Jungkook was fine with it, of course. He wanted you and Jimin to get along.

What Jungkook wasn’t fine with was the amount of times you’d speak of Jimin and how, in your words, “He’s actually fun to be around.”, “I convinced Jimin to listen to this podcast with me while we studied”, “It’s okay, I’ll just ask Jimin.” - and the fact that you were going to someone else for something instead of him was what truly got his blood boiling.

“I invited Jimin, hope that’s okay.” you said, dropping next to Jungkook. You were in the living room of your home, Chaeyoung showering up the stairs and soon joining you and him. It was only a study session - exams coming just around the corner. 

“Did you?” Jungkook snickers. “Why?”

“Why not?” you shrug with a short giggle. “Don’t we all need to study?”

Jungkook remains quiet, not wanting to think too much into it.

There was no way he was jealous. Jimin was his friend and there was no reason to be.

But when there was a knock on the door. You had risen to answer it, and that was the cherry on top - the way you hugged Jimin, greeting him with a wide smile.

You hadn’t even hugged Jungkook that way - or even appeared to be happy that he was there. When did you and Jimin grow so close? It wasn’t long ago that you were butting heads over streaming services. Now, the two of you were hugging, your arms wrapped firmly around him.

“Is the plan still on?” Jimin murmurs to you, feeling the burning hole Jungkook is burning through him. 

“Yes.” you murmur back. You avoid Jungkook’s eyes, especially when you feel Jimin light tap the low of your back.

Jungkook watches your next move, not taking his eyes off of you. You bring yourself back next to Jungkook on the couch, finally meeting his eyes. He doesn’t say anything  to you, only watching with tense eyes.

“I ordered pizza.” Chaeyoung says, almost on cue. Her hair is damp as she comes through. “Should be here in a few.”

You want to laugh at how giddy you feel right now. Jungkook’s reaction. You aren’t going to feel guilty - he started this first.

It was Jimin’s idea after all. “I would rather die than flirt with you.” Jimin snarls. The feeling was mutual. “But Jungkook is a territorial person. He’ll grow jealous of you hanging out with anyone that isn’t him.”

And that’s where it began - the constant “study” sessions that truly had you and Jimin bickering with one another. “I agreed to listen to your murder podcast but watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey is where you draw the line?” Jimin snapped one day.

However, Jimin was correct. He knew Jungkook like the back of his hand and his plan was working smoothly. 

A study session always started well and ended with loud chatter and laughs - only Jungkook sulked on the couch, while you, Chaeyoung and Jimin gathered around the low coffee table to eat.

“Here, try this.” Jimin shoves his pizza in your face - it has a variety of toppings on it and you want to gag at the sight of it. You want to shake your head because damn did it look disgusting, toppings nearly falling all over the place, but Jimin eyes widen and he slightly nods. 

You open your mouth and take a bite, allowing Jimin to feed you the pizza - and Jungkook’s had enough of watching you and him.

“Y/N doesn’t even like all those toppings.” Jungkook hisses, shoving the pizza away from you. It falls into Jimin’s lap sloppily, and the older man groans.

“Kook, what the hell?” Jimin cleans the pizza from his lap, glaring at his younger friend. “What’s your problem-”

“I think you should go.” Jungkook exclaims.

“No he doesn’t.” you are quick to defend Jimin, and inside you’re screaming, wanting to laugh in Jungkook’s obviously jealous face. “What’s going on with you?”

Jungkook’s taken aback. “Since when are you and Jimin friends?” he hisses, not intending for his voice to be as low. “Jimin’s my friend.”

Luckily you’ve told Chaeyoung the plan, or she would have thought you had two friends fighting for you. She takes a sip of her soda to hide her laughter. 

“Please don’t fight over me.” Jimin chuckles. “There’s enough of me to go around.”

“You should be happy that I’m being friends with your friends.” you cross your arms. “Or do you prefer we butt heads?”

Jungkook would prefer you and Jimin to do nothing at all, like before. He hides his remark because in the end, Jimin was his friend and he truly would never accuse anything of him - but he couldn’t help how he feels.

“Can I talk to you in private, Y/N?” Jungkook murmurs, his eyes intense.

Jimin watches as you and Jungkook walk up the stairs and down the hall, not speaking until he hears a door close.

“Turn the TV up.” Chaeyoung says suddenly, taking a bite of her pizza. “They’re going to fuck it out right about now.”

Jimin doesn’t have to be told twice.

“What the fuck are you doing with Jimin?” Jungkook hiss as soon as the door to your bedroom is closed. “And don’t give that mush-mouth shit either, Y/N.”

You shrug. “The same thing you’re doing with Sia.”

Jungkook stops in his tracks. You sit at the edge of your bed with crossed arms.

“Sia?” Jungkook looks at you as if he had no idea what you were speaking of. “Sia?” he repeats.

“Sia.” you mock with a scoff. “Yes, Jungkook.”

Jungkook inhales deeply before exhaling. He tilts his head for a moment, your words repeating in his mind. 

“I don’t hang out with Sia. I don’t even talk to her.” Jungkook proclaims, a snarky tone in his voice.

“Sia likes this, Sia does that, Sia goes here, we should go there.” you mock Jungkook’s voice the best you could. “But I watch a little Housewives with Jimin and it’s a problem?” It was a problem, because there was only so much New Jersey you could watch.

Jungkook’s eyes begin to squint, and then widen. It was like a lightbulb went off. 

“You were trying to make me jealous. And you had Jimin help you do it.” Jungkook exclaims.

“Did not,” you scoff.

“You did.”

“Not.”

“You always avoid my gaze when you’re lying, Y/N.” Jungkook sighs in relief. He had to hand it to you, you and Jimin were determined - and your plan worked entirely well. 

“Fuck you.” you hiss. “Isn’t that what you were doing first?” you quip, now rising to your feet. “Then you lie about it.”

Jungkook’s head snaps towards you. “Lie? About what?”

“Turn the T.V. down!” Chaeyoung murmurs, hearing the rise in your voice. 

“Already on it.” Jimin responds. 

“You said you don’t talk to Sia which is kinda weird seeing as you seem to know so much about what she likes.”

“You go through all of this instead of admitting you like me, Y/N?” Jungkook begins to laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “You like me. You’re down bad for me just as I am for you.”

You roll your eyes at Jungkook’s words. 

“Stop avoiding what I said.”

“I’m not lying.” Jungkook retorts. “Can we admit you’re jealous of Sia-”

“Fuck you and her disrespectfully.” you bellowed, venom laced in your words. You’re even surprised at how it came out. 

Jungkook licks his lips. “I only talked to Sia that one time in the dining hall,” he admits. “I…I did lie about everything I told you she said. I never spoke to her after.”

You blink a few times, registering his words. 

“What?”

“I just wanted to hear you admit that you were jealous.” now that Jungkook hears himself, his plan sounded stupidly childish. “Admit that you like me-”

“Like you?” you scoff. “You met my parents.”

“Because you were hiding the fact that I wasn’t your boyfriend.” Jungkook shrugs. 

“At the time.” you tilt your head. “I’m with you all the time. I watch your nerdy movies-”

“And I watch your serial killer documentaries!” Jungkook defends. 

“Exactly.” you wave your hands around. “How could you think I don’t like you when we’re constantly together?”

Jungkook understands that you make valid points, but he was but a man and how was he supposed to feel? “I just want to hear you say it.” he shrugs his shoulders, unsure what else to say. “You only say it when I’m fucking you into oblivion-”

“Okay,” you lift your hand to pause his speech. “please don’t get ahead of yourself there.”

“Just say you like me.” Jungkook steps closer to you, reaching out for you. He has a small smile on his lips. “Just admit that you like me, baby. You’re so down bad for me that you somehow got Jimin to make me jealous of your fraudulent friendship.”

Jungkook’s holding you now, arms embracing you entirely. 

“What’s understood doesn’t need to be said.” you murmur, melting into his embrace. You inhale his scent, enjoying the freshly clean scent of his cologne.

“It does.” Jungkook kisses your forehead. He wonders if Jimin told you how he reacted over the phone when you called yourself his girl. It wouldn’t bother him because you know how he feels already.

You roll your eyes. “I…like you.” you say against his chest.

Jungkook pushes you back. “Excuse me?”

“I already said-”

“No, say it again. Without a dick in you-”

You slap his hand from your shoulders. “Oh wow, fuck you-”

“I will.” Jungkook nods erratically. “You can sit on my face until you’re shaking with pleasure, then I’ll fuck you until you’re begging-”

“I like you, Jungkook.” your body heats up at his words and of course, your legs clench for friction. It was as if you and he weren’t just in a disagreement not too long ago. “Ugh, I hate you.”  you murmur when you see the smirk forming on his lips. 

“Hate that you like me.” Jungkook squeals, far too giddy than he should be. “Take your clothes off, baby.”

“They don’t waste any time.” Jimin snorts, wiping his mouth with a napkin. 

“Turn the T.V. up again. Jungkook’s about to fuck some more love confessions out of her.” Chaeyoung warns.

Jungkook’s nails dig into the skin of your thigh, gripping entirely too tight to fight off his nerves. His tongue laps your clit vigorously - with such need. It’s almost like it gave him pleasure by pleasuring you. 

Your hands wrap around the length of his cock, pumping up and down slowly - just because you want to tease him. His tongue laps even harder when you begin to pump faster, smothering himself against you. 

Jungkook groans, the vibration feeling against your clit. You allow the saliva to pool from your tongue and onto his clit, tightening your grip. You then decide to take him in your mouth, the salty taste of his pre-cum hitting your taste buds.You assure to add more saliva to jerk him while you suckle along the tip.

Jungkook’s hand rubs along your ass then upwards towards your back, He gently bites your thigh. “You’re so good, baby…”

Jungkook presses a kiss against your clit before he continues on his assault upon your clit. You want to tell him to stop - you were supposed to be pleasuring him, too, but Jungkook always made things harder. Naturally, Jungkook was competitive, and it was as if he was competing to see who would cum first.

And with the way Jungkook now adds his fingers, pumping entirely just as fast as his tongue suckles on your clit - you were going to lose.

You take Jungkook into your mouth fully, his tip hitting your throat. Jungkook twitches, and that’s when you know you had it. You lay your tongue flat, continuing to suck him fully. You were just as stubborn as Jungkook was, and now it was a game to see who was going to win - even if you’re certain you’d just become submissive like always and allow him to take control.

Jungkook’s groaning against your pussy now, trying everything in him to not lose (lose a battle that should have never started), but you were slurping him entirely too good for him to not want to.

“J-Just cum, already.” you cave, his cock popping out of your mouth, saliva dripping down the corner of your mouth. 

“You first.” Jungkook huffs. “Ride my face.”

“Fuck…you…” you groan, but you do as Jungkook asks. Your hips begin to roll, clit grinding against Jungkook’s tongue. 

Jungkook keeps his hands permanently on your ass, allowing you to take control of your orgasm. He’s satisfied that you’ve decided to cave, his competitive nature satisfied. Now, all you have to do is cum.

You bite your lip to suppress a loud moan - Jimin and Chaeyoung were just downstairs. But you were going to cum on Jungkook’s tongue like he intended, not understanding how you yet again lost the battle against Jeon Jungkook.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook moans against your clit, a low whine releasing from your sweet lips Your thighs are quivering as you are coming to your high, eyes fluttering close and your head hanging.

You fall against your bed with a sigh. You needed to catch your breath.

“My pretty girl.” Jungkook smiles down at you, now hovering above you. “Are you hungry?”

“Shut up.” you scoff. 

Jungkook’s smile doesn’t falter.

“I was watching porn earlier.” you began. “I want you to fuck my breasts.”

Jungkook chokes at your words, flushing red. “What-”

“Put your dick between my breasts,” you begin, speaking slowly. “and fuck them.”

Jungkook quickly nods, already feeling the familiar throb in his cock. 

“You’re so good for me, Y/N.” Jungkook speaks.

“Put it in my mouth first.” you instruct. “So it can be lubricated.”

Jungkook groans but nods. You suck on his cock for a moment before popping it out of your mouth. Jungkook then hovers above your breast, gulping.

Jungkook moans, pressing your breast together as he begins to thrust. Your tongue dips out so you could lick the tip of his tip each time he thrust forward. 

Both of Jungkook’s thumbs rub along your nipples, his thrusting becoming faster. You're so beautiful and Jungkook would never get tired of saying it. He’s never thought about fucking your breast, but now as he’s doing so, he can’t imagine not doing it again.

You had to admit watching Jungkook fuck your breast was hot - but that was also because Jungkook was hot. There’s sweat lining his forehead and his lips are forming a small ‘o’ shape. Maybe this is what Jungkook felt like when he was pleasuring you - it was because of you that Jungkook was appearing in pure ecstasy.

“You really do like me, baby.” chuckled Jungkook deeply. His fingers twist your nipples. “I can’t believe you’d thought I would ever be interested in that girl.”

You hum, glad that Jungkook didn’t say her name.

“You know you’re the only girl for me, baby.”

“You can cum in my mouth.” you moan, opening your mouth wider and poking your tongue out. 

Jungkook grumbles with a shake of his head. His thrusts become even faster, sloppier. His hands grip your breast entirely in his palms. “My pretty girl,” he pants. “so, so pretty. So good for m-me…” Jungkook’s voice cracks, twitching as he cums.

Jungkook’s cum hits your tongue - warm, salty and great. It’s an abundance, so much cum that a bit drips down your chin. You swallow, licking your lips.

Jungkook falls next to you, legs twitching with ecstasy. He swallows the lump in his throat. He brings you closer to him, kissing your lips entirely. 

“My pretty girl.”

“Ugh,” you groan. “I hate simps.”

Jungkook allows you to fall against his chest and it rumbles as he laughs.  “You’re so down bad for me, Y/N. It's so obvious now.” he teases. “I’ll fuck another confession out of you later.”

You slap his chest, but the throbbing between your legs is evident that you were anticipating his words to be true.

DRABBLE 2 | DRABBLE 3

[pxtched]

NSFW IMAGINE…

nerd!miguel using a fleshlight thinking of you

sub!miguel?? - reader is only mentioned - very short - (M)masturbation - use of flesh light - MDNI.

It wasn’t like he hasn’t jacked off before, he did but not that much. BUT after meeting you and him becoming your little helper, oh he did it so more often.

Thinking how tight you feel on his dick, or how your pretty lips would wrap around his dick. Thrusting up in his fist fantasizing about you.

He saw something online, and it caught his attention. It was a flesh light, he dosent even know how it feels but he wants to find out. He feels some shame ordering it, he just has to make sure his roommate or anyone else sees it.

After a couple of days, it delivered and he sees the box outside the door. Thankfully his roommate isn’t there, out partying.

he grabs the box and walks inside, he unpacks the package and gulps at the sight of it. He grows flustered as he feels the texture of it, he’s already feeling hot and bothered so perfect timing.

He grabs it, stands up and walks to his room. He close’s the door and locks it. He puts the pocket pussy on his bed for now as he leans on the wall next to his bed, he pulls up his shirt revealing his abdomen. He holds the shirt from falling down with his teeth as his free hands pull down his pants and reveal his aching dick.

He looks at his night stand and open the last drawer, he pulls up a bottle of lube. He pours it on his hand and whimpered when he feels the cold liquid on his dick.

He grabs the pocket pussy back up and position it, he close’s his eyes and imagine it’s you. You on your knees, your hands on his thighs as you begin to put his dick in your mouth.

He moans when he feeling something entirely different from his hand, he starts moving up slowly still thinking it’s you.

His pace quickens as moans get louder, his hips moving too. Thinking it’s him fucking your mouth and not the toy. His thrusts become frantic as his whines and moans fill his quiet room. He moans when he reaches his climax, coming inside of it and some of it spills on the floor.

He’ll clean it later when shame and guilt gets to him but for now?

It wasn’t enough, so he got on his bed. Fully naked, he began moving the toy again moaning out of overstimulation but he doesn’t care. His eyes closed shut as he thinks your riding him, your breasts bouncing up and down each move you make.

He lets pathetic desperate moans as he fucks the toy, he sounds like he was in a porn video. His glasses almost falling off his face as tears form in his eyes.

“Ah!—ugh!” Miguel moans to himself, his legs started spasm as his hips thrusted up.

“Oh my god! Fuckfuckfuck—! Coming!” Miguel moans loudly as he thrusted his hips up one last time and he came so much. His eyes shot open as he leaned his head back against the pillows, mouth agape, Arching his back as he let out a loud choked up Moan. His legs were shaking as he regain his breathing.

He definitely needs to take a shower and clean up before his roommate comes back.

A/N - IM ALIVEEEE !! I actually forgot how to write, school work and personal stuff was piling up so that’s why I was dead for a while! Sorry y’all!

ps: I was going to make him moan out the readers name but…for me I don’t like writing ‘y/n’ I wanna make a nickname but I don’t know what😭

TAGS - @safixiovi , @syler-griffin , @jadeloverxd , @miguels-aranita , @hyjionie , @migueloharasoulmate hope y’all like this <3

REBLOGS - COMMENTS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED! THANK YOU FOR READING!

master-list _ guidelines/rules _ abt me !

[lovingjingyuan]

It's Just The Past You Can't Remember

Blade wants you because you look like his past lover whom he married when he was Yingxing. The same name, birthday, face, hair everything resembled his wife who died to help assist him in his crimes taking the flesh of the abundance emanator that turned him immortal. 

This will be hard to understand if you don't know the actual in-game lore how Blade actually became immortal so I'll sum it quick ***Jingliu said something along the line in the quest where they all meet up. Yingxing is a fool for taking an abundance emanator's(Shuhu) flesh to assist Dan Feng in saving Baiheng but ended up backfiring turning him into a immortal, becoming a curse for him*** Yeah that's the actual in game lore in a quest. Hopes this helps understand! I changed some parts to adjust to the story but the one I just said is the real version.

Yandere Blade x Yingxing's reincarnated wife

---♡𓌜 Bladie 𓁍

Blade laid his eyes on you through the coward. This wasn't the first time you two had met on another planet. You were in Elio's script so he always knew exactly where you are and what your every move is.

Even if he cannot remember his past fully he knew out of Five people Three must pay the price. And he pursues those very words. He remembered that Yingxing, his past self, had a wife who died in his arms.

Jing Yuan and Jingliu confirmed those very words. Pictures of their engagement kept in Jing Yuan's basement confirmed those dreams he had of his past life with you.

So now he stood waiting for the opportunity to take you. He will never let anyone take you away now. No matter how long he'll always hunt you down on every planet you go to just to pursue you.

You laid your eyes on Blade while he walked towards you pushing through the cowards of people.

Why is he here? You think to yourself as you push through the people to get yourself out of here. Fear rushed through your veins as you hurried out of here.

You ran to tell the guards on this planet that a wanted criminal from the IPC was here. A stellaron hunter. This was never your first encounter with him where he constantly harasses you with the idea you're his past lover and he's here to take you back.

You can't remember your past life! And you don't know this man at all so why is he here?! Every relationship you got in was over in a heartbeat. They all abandoned you due to fear of Blade and his sword slaying through their necks.

To Blade, you're still his wife even if you can't remember the past. Can he remember it clearly himself? No, but knows enough to put the pieces together and desire to live through those moments once again. To him; you being a new person is basically almost a win-win. He’s not his old self you’re not your past self so why not start a new beginning together? Just a refreshing start, just the two of you forever. 

You stopped in your tracks when in one swift motion an arm wrapped around your waist pulling you in his embrace.

"Found you," the harshness of his voice rang in your ears. Cold blood rushed through your body. 

"You again! Why do you always do this?!"

"I'm here for one simple thing" his voice was deep and cold yet he was serious, "I came here to take back what's mine."

You plunged a knife into his abdomen. He grunted in pain but held you steadily refusing to let go. Those wounds won't hurt as much as losing you again. Even if the game and adrenaline is captivating as it is, he won’t lose you again.

"Is that the best you can do my dear?" His voice rang through your ears.

"I don't know why you're obsessing over the past! You're just a Stellaron Hunter. You should be focusing on atoning for your sins instead of this!" You used every strength in your body to push him away. It was never enough he didn't even budge.

"Why would I let you off so easily? You belong to me." His arms still gripped tightly around your waist having no intention of letting go. "You once belonged to Yingxing so you belong to me."

This made your blood boil. You held back every nerve in your body not to blow up at him calling him an imbecile and use profound language towards him.

"I don't know who Yingxing is or his wife. You don't have to hunt me down. Your wife. She's long gone dead. You know it so stop hunting me down everywhere I go!" You snapped at him, balling your hands into a fist.

He grabbed your chin tilting your chin towards his face. He blood orange iris staring into yours. You can see your reflection in his eyes. His pupils expanded. He was truly in love with the past.

Blade remains silent for what seems like a good while. His hands brushed against your waist softly holding you firmly.

"What if I want to reclaim what was once mine in the past?"

"Well, you can dig up your wife's grave then!"

His eyes harshed. His blood boiled. Even though he knew for sure you were his past lover. The dishonorable mention of his wife still angered him immensely when someone badmouthed his lover. “And you're the reason your wife died! She helped you take abundance emanator’s(Shuhu) flesh! Helping you betray the Luofu! Because of your selfishness, she died and you're immortal!"

Although you didn't fully understand his past relationships with his wife. You knew this from the books you read. How your past self had helped him betray Luofu out of love.

You know that you cannot deny that it may be true you are his past lover but a reincarnation. Yet your stubbornness prevents you from accepting the truth.

“You can't love someone from dreams and memories you don't even remember-" his hands covered your mouth preventing you from speaking any further as he immediately cut you off.

"I remember. My dreams are accurate to my past" He always told you he dreamt of his past when he was once Yingxing.

He continued, "You are her!" His words are swift and furious. He always reminded you that you have the exact same name, face, and birthday as his past wife.

"My last dream was you and me on bed during our wedding night." Blade always told you of his dream every time you've met. "You told me that you will always love and stay with me no matter the situation."

So that he dragged you away without your consent keeping you trapped with him forever. You'll live your life with him. And once this life of yours dies out he'll go on his hunt for your next life.

Maybe he'll give you the flesh of an abundance emanator to become immortal like he once did so he can keep this fairytale he longed for forever.

[astrid-sorensen]

If wanting was enough | Joel Miller x f!reader

Genre: Smut, Angst

Warnings: general smut, unrequited love, abandonment, no use of y/n

Word count: 1,653

MASTERLIST

Waking up to find Joel’s cock pressed into your leg, will he finally stop pushing down his aching desires?

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ⋆｡°✩･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

Something hardened nudged the back of your cold thigh, you felt it twitch slightly. You mind foggy with sleep as you came back to your senses.

You tugged the itchy fabric covering your body higher, shielding you from the frosty winter air. Boston was never too kind in the winter. The flattened pillow beneath your head became firmer, pulling you out of your somnolent haze.

You'd been sleeping here for a few months now, your ex partner using you as collateral for a trade of Joel's best firearm. What he didn't know was your lover would not be returning.

Your heartbreak had all but fully healed over now, Joel allowing you to stay with him as long as you helped him trade outside the QZ. Convincing himself a couple extra hands wouldn’t hurt.

A itchy hot feeling festered in his bones that someone could betray you like that. Leaving you to a man like Joel, a man people knew had very little mercy. Joel's cruelty knew no bounds.

You remembered Joel's presence behind you before you realised —that must be Joel's cock.

You spread careful fingertips to his crotch, stroking ever so softly at where you could feel him pressing against you. Like magic his hips slightly jerked, his erection crowding against you from behind. Yours hips melted like putty in his hand, rolling back against him, pleading for friction.

His breathing quickened.

His name slipped from your tongue with a breath.

Joel body freezes, clearly awakened from the spell he was under.

"M' sorry." His deep voice blurts out in a hushed tone. His scent of pine wood and whiskey floating over you. You want to drag him to you by the head pull him onto your body, tell him over and over he never needs to apologise to you. But you don't. Instead, you carry on rolling your pelvis back into his, your inhales becoming stronger. He's straining against the fabric of his threadbare jeans. Your body is riling up with warmth and thrill. It's been so long you think you might even be close, but like that, he's gone. You feel the blanket tug as he turns over, the flesh of his bum grazing yours.

Your heart falls into the deep well of your stomach. You twist til his green flannel clad back is facing you. Your body sandwiches the back of his, cold palms twisting around his middle and rubbing stripes up his front with a light hand. The feeling tickles him. Inching your cheeks almost into the crook of his neck you whisper. "Joel, Lemme take care of you."

"I don't need taking care of." He grumbles sleepily.

"I know, but I need it too." Intimacy you mean, though you would never elaborate. Your not sure Joel is capable of intimacy. Sometimes you get jealous thinking about Sarah's mom. She must've had him in a way no other woman has. You watch as his dark eyes fall shut, you hand trailing down. Rubbing small circles into his lower abdomen where the hair begins to darken and thicken.

Joel wants to fuck you senseless, bury his cock into you from behind. Your pleas and cries for him to slow down, falling on deaf ears.

But he couldn't.

Not to you.

Not to the only person who's stayed by his side for this long, whose seen him all. Not in a sexual way but something else. Tending to his wounds, showering with your backs together to save what was left of your water, fighting anything that came your way.

Instead, he lets you palm him softly through his jeans, working him up until he couldn't deny you anymore. Joel felt his pink swollen tip leak into his underwear. He bid his dirty thoughts away, pleading for sleep to overcome him so he didn't give into his desire for you.

A large hand swallowed your wrist, freezing your hand from moving any further. Joel moved onto his back. His large hand was heavy on your thigh, dragging you over onto his lap. Your legs were strained over his big hips, his thickened length pushing against your wetted seam. You held in an anguished moan.

Your body rocked on him, desperation crawling in your depths. Hunger scraping at your insides, begging for a release. Your sweaty hands feel onto his shoulders for balance, his hips bucking and pulling out a moan from your chest.

"Joel, it's been so long. I need you now."

His frown was etched onto his face, looking at your through heavy lashes. Joel's lower lip pulled between his teeth as conflict-ion crossed his features. Your lips pressed to his shoulder blade.

The coil tightening as your hole clenched around nothing, begging to be filled by the Texan.

His skin was hit beneath your mouth, his hands grazed onto your thighs, holding you in place.

"Ar'ya sure 'bout this?" He grumbled lowly.

You nodded feverishly into his hot skin. "Please Joel, I need you." The elder let out a deep huff, leaning forward to pull his shirt off from behind his head and tossing it off to the side. You followed suit, pulling off your top and bra til you were bare before him. You nipples hardened in the cool Boston apartment, the only thing covering your top half was a thin silver pendant necklace.

Joel's hands clutched at the blanket, watching as you sat back between his knees and struggled to pull of your pants and underwear. Before the outbreak, you would've been coy. Cheeks rosy and eyes alert even looking at the man before you. Let alone being completely bare on top of him. I guess that's what the end of the world does to you.

You clambered back onto his strong thighs, this time his fingers dipping into the flesh of your bare hips. The feeling was orgasmic, sending electric shocks through the pads of his fingers and straight to your feverish core.

You tried ignoring his stares as you worked yourself on him, growing more conscious of the fact you had a lot more scars than he did. You hoped he didn't mind.

Before long, Joel had freed himself from the confines of his clothes.

"Don't come in me, I'm not on anything."

"Yeah, yeah. I know." He replied hastily, his voice thick with arousal. He eased his weeping head to your hole. You heaved as you tried relaxing, tried to let him in. Let him have all of you. He thrust shallowly, opening you up for him.

It was hard to have him fully inside, although you were practically coming undone, it had still be a very long time since you had had something close to this. It was harder than anticipated. Your breath quickened as Joel stilled, his right hand bracing on your hip tighter. "Breathe for me." He said, followed by your name. You emptied your lungs, eyes squeezing shut before Joel slipped in. Forcing his hips till he was at the hilt. His small whimper met your moan in the air.

It was like nothing you'd ever felt before. Was it because it was Joel? Or because his cock was just that good. He hit every place inside you perfectly. His foreskin sliding against your walls and creating the most toe curling friction. His tip plunged against your cervix, deeply massaging into your core.

He wasn't slow, nor fast. But purposeful, giving you exactly what you wanted but drawing out the pleasure for as long as possible.

"There you go." He muttered, his hips quickening to an unbearable rythm. Your body pulling him in tighter and tighter. You gazed down onto him. Pressing your lips to his jaw, cheek and then ghosting near his pink lips. His thick moustache tickling your top lip.

He took a sharp breath, his form stilling. You pulled back before you could kiss him properly. Studying his blissed out face, his brows tightly knitted together. Hair slightly damp and sticking to his forehead. And a flush across the tops of his cheeks. He must be close too. He watched you, his jaw slightly going slack as he pondered what was running through your head.

"I-I'm sorry." You stuttered. Joel shook his head dismissing you. He breathed once before pushing his head between your breasts and fucking you into both of your orgasms.

"Joel— ahhhhh! Oh my god, fuck. I'm coming." He fucked you through it, only being able to pull out at the very last minute till he was spurting white hot cum onto your front. You watched his milky seed as it pooled across your stomach and down your thighs, you mind spun with the thought of him blessing you with it at the back of your mouth. You'd swallow every thick load. If it were his that is.

He turned his back to you, pulling the blanket tight to his broad, moistened chest. He could feel your eyes still open. Blissfully fucked out.

"Go to sleep." The male murmured.

"I can't. Talk to me." You whispered meekly. Joel tried ignoring you, but he knew it would only come up later.

"I can't give you want you want." He said, tagging your name on the end. Sorrow was laced across his tone, something only you would pick up.

"How do you know what I want?" Your words don't earn a response. His silence was enough. You didn't realise your longing for him was so noticeable. The silence was unbearable, you lay down back into your original position.

"And anyway, like this-" You started, staring at the back of his messy dark hair. "Is enough." You finished with. You curled up in the blanket, your bodies still tucked like sardines in the small bed. Lashes hit cheeks as you calmed yourself down from your high, wishing you wouldn't be too tired working tomorrow.

"It is?" His words cutting through the air, interested.

"Yeah, for now."

[mauesartetc]

A while back I got a comment that demonstrated a misconception as to what the character design process actually entails, and I thought it had real "teachable moment" potential. So let me make this perfectly clear:

Drawing a character is NOT the same as designing one.

Let's say I wanted to draw a guy. No backstory, no defined personality traits or preferences, no details about his current life, just doodling some random, generic guy who popped into my head.

That's just a drawing.

But what if I decided to flesh him out more? What if I wanted his appearance to reflect his lifestyle and inner life as well? Here's where the note-taking comes in.

And now for the visual research:

I thought the bodybuilding angle would provide a fun contrast with this guy's profession. The mental image of a huge, burly dude working on a clock or watch with tiny, precise movements just makes me smile. Perhaps I could give him small, nimble hands that would suit his line of work.

Now that I have a better idea of how Mikhail's face and body will look, it's time to establish a pose.

Of course, I never expected to employ all the personality traits I started out with inside this single pose; those were just a jumping-off point. No one drawing will ever be able to encapsulate every single facet of a character, unless they're extraordinarily flat and generic (see also: random guy I doodled at the start of this post). If I wanted to write a story with this guy, I'd have to figure out how all the traits play off each other and how they'd cause him to react to different situations. There would be a lot more note-taking and development involved, but for the sake of keeping this post (somewhat) brief, let's just focus on visuals for now.

On to color!

I decided to give Mikhail a carnation in his pocket (for its round shape), specifically a red one, which represents deep love and an aching heart. Thus, the flower needed to maintain its red color for the symbolism to come through.

For some reason I initially pictured this guy wearing a pink shirt (perhaps as an offshoot of the "romantic" angle), but I wanted to try some different colors inspired by the 70s catalog pages I found. I ended up really liking the contrast of the cool blue shirt with the warm red pants, and that option made it into my top three as a result. I lined them up next to each other to compare them, and in the end, blue won out over pink. I think it also reflects the "colder", more cerebral, less-emotional parts of his personality well (namely "systematic", "stern", and "callous"- one from each column!). Just goes to show that you shouldn't get too attached to your first draft, as better ideas are just around the corner.

I then lightened the blue of the shirt so it wouldn't compete so much with the rest of the outfit, and wouldn't be quite as loud and "in your face". Mikhail strikes me as a bit of an introvert, so the calmer, quieter blue is a better fit. I added a darker belt and watchband and de-saturated the flower just a bit to make the values feel more balanced, and I think we've got it!

Let's see the final result!

Y'all, I was not expecting this process to make me emotional, but there's something special about fully realizing a little guy you've spent hours working on. All of a sudden you look at him and go, "Oh my god, there he is. That's him." This man wasn't even a twinkle in my eye a couple weeks ago and now I'd protect him with my life.

And the thing is, the only reason I'm calling this design "done" for now is that I basically just brought it into existence to make a point. But if this dude were attached to a larger story, he'd be nowhere near finished. I'd have to make a ton more iterations and go a lot more in depth with my research than I did (especially with the Armenian cultural stuff). Overall, though, I hope this quick project properly highlighted the difference between a single drawing and a more fleshed-out character.

Later!

[sadesluvr]

Freak - Mike Schmidt x Reader (Songfic)

Mike dials a 1-800 number and gets more than what he asked for.

A/N: Reader is a secret sex guru, and an unlicensed therapist, 18+ only. I'm going to abuse the FUCK out of this GIF. Based on the song 'Freak' by Doja Cat!

Word count: 2.2K

Tags: SMUT / Sub! Mike, Dom! Reader / Fem!Reader / Handjobs / Edging / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Marijuana usage / Brief mention of contraceptives (the pill)

‘Call 1-800-2323 for the answer to your troubles. Enlightenment is just a phone call away!’

Mike looked down at the card in his hands, given to him by Abby’s wellbeing officer out of concern for his personal troubles. He’d never read too much into spirituality, but considering psychoanalysis hadn’t gotten him much further than his usual dream it couldn’t hurt to try, right?

The dial rang, and he expected to hear a raspy elderly woman with a smoker's cough. What he didn’t expect was a lively, young voice at the other end of the line.

“…How may I be of assistance?”

“Uh — There’s something in my past — It’s been bothering me for practically my whole life…I need help finding the answers…”

“Hm,” the voice hummed. “Vague, but I sense you’re holding back…I like ‘em that way…Name?”

Freak like me You want a good girl that does bad things to you You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak Freak like me

“Mike Schmidt,”

You'd heard of him from your mom’s friend.

“I’ll book you in for Friday at 8PM,”

“Okay…How much will I owe you? Money’s a little tight right now…”

“Don’t worry. It’s all free of charge,”

Tied him down to my queen bed Tease him just enough to hate me  Tied it tight enough, he can't break free  Keep him waiting 'til he try This can go one of two ways We could flip the coin, I'll be your slave  Call you daddy, give me a nickname I ain't afraid of a little pain (No, I ain't 'fraid of a little pain)

He showed up at the address listed on the card a little after 8PM and rang the doorbell, his hands in his pockets as he scanned his surroundings. You, the mysterious voice, answered the door, and you briefly took his breath away, dressed in a nude, flesh coloured spaghetti strap dress that stopped halfway on your thighs, paired with a sultry smile.

“You must be Mike,” you grin. “Come in,”

The interaction is brief, and he follows you to the couch, an armchair sat traditionally opposite like it would in a therapist office. You gesture for him to take a seat and he does, already feeling like he was under a spell. His eyes glance down briefly at your bare legs as you cross one over the other, letting out a soft moan as you got comfortable. Blood was slowly and suddenly draining from his face to his cock, and he moved his hands to cover the issue, which didn’t go unnoticed to you.

“So, Mike…What is it that’s haunting you?”

He wanted some'n else and he wanna be selfish He wanted them three rounds, DC had to come help him Look, I know your position Try to squeeze in the full nelson though Beat on it, beat, beat on it, mercy like a black belt give Daddy the grand master, daddy, I want it faster Them bitches you fuckin' with, I know they gon' need some practice So bring 'em along wit' ya, I'll teach 'em how to smash ya When I made a little mess on it, he told me to clean my act up

He told you everything; from his brother’s abduction to the breakdown of his family and his living situation with his sister. He was a tortured soul, and he just needed a bit of release. You were so, so glad he’d been referred to you.

“I empathise with you, Mike,” you sigh, leaning in. “It must be hard,”

Hard. Painfully hard.

“Do you mind if I sit next to you?” you say coyly, and he shakes his head. You notice he licks his lips as you get up, recognising how the dress is clinging to your body and beginning to bunch up your thighs. For a split second he gets a glimpse of your black lace panties, and his now fully hard cock twitches in his jeans. 

He wants you, and he’s almost certain you want him too, but a deeper part of him wants to let it play out. For once, he’s not in control of all of the decisions and he wants to keep it that way.

“What I’m hearing is that the route of your issue is frustration,” you say, eyes locked on his as you reach out to run your fingers through his messy locks. “When was the last time you ever thought about yourself?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t - I can’t — How is this going to help me find who took Garrett?”

“Because you’re thinking too hard, and it complicates things. It’s time to redirect your attention,” you purr, dragging your vowels so that it produces a tone that sends shivers down his spine. 

“…How?” he chokes, eyes wide and pupils dilated. You’re so fucking close to him now, and he thinks he might burst. You smell like weed and sex, and he can’t stop staring at the way your strap is sliding down your arms.

You slide off your dress in a quick motion, revealing your bare body. Mike is rabid now, unable to stop staring at your hardened nipples and the barely there material of your panties.

Freak like me (Tryna freak you down) You want a good girl that does bad things to you You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak

“I’m gonna touch you, Mike,” you say simply, and it holds a thousand words. “And then you’re gonna fuck me,”

Hey, I could take a big bat, bet that he thinkin' this a game Hey, batter, batter swing, you could put it on a swing Freak like a triple XXX flick, put her on a chain This pussy off the chain, this kitty insane I could fuck him in the rain, I could fuck him in the Range (Uh) I could fuck him every day (Uh), I'ma fuck him 'til he sang (Uh) Milkshake bring the boys to the yard, I'ma need the whipped cream Ain't ever been vanilla, honey, just wait until you get a taste

He knows he can say no, but relaxes into your touch. One hand rubs his upper torso, massaging his tight muscles as the other is wrapped around his neck as you plant gentle kisses along his cheek and neck before you move to his lips. His kiss is eager, and he wastes no time in finding your tongue with his own. 

He needs this so fucking badly, and he doesn’t want to let go.

The kiss continues as you begin to claw at his body, and he briefly pulls away to tug off his jacket and shirt before resuming the make out session. His body tenses as your hands make their way down his chest, down towards the beginning of his happy trail. He desperately wants you to continue the skin-to-skin contact, but you slide your hands over his jeans instead, squeezing him through the material. 

He furrowed his eyebrows and let out a small whimper, earning a gasp from you. He was so pretty.

“That’s it, baby. Don’t hold back…”

Skirt off, fuck in the backseat Take that shirt off, baby, put it on me Got me like, "Yeehaw," ride it like a horsey Kinda like see-saw, up and down on the D, give it to him

You relieve his frustration by hastily pulling at his belt and unbuttoning his jeans, leaving him in his briefs. They were black and you could see a clear wad of precum that had been built up over the past hour. Wasting no time, Mike lets out a louder moan as you slide the material down, his cock springing up onto his pelvis. It’s average sized, but with a slightly thicker girth, and is bright pink with want.

“Kiss me,” you instruct, and he nods. His lips find the crevice of your neck and collarbone as you begin to grip his shaft, his tip between your thumb and index finger as you squeeze out some remaining precum, the liquid pooling around your fingers.

It’s pure pleasure for him as you take the entirety of his cock in your hands, slowly beginning to jerk him off, not forgetting to cup his balls as you do. He throws his head back as his hands clench, physical pressure dissipating as you take his hands in your own, guiding it to your breast.

“Fuck…” Mike groans, beginning to massage the skin as you coo in his ear, your grip tightening and fastening on his cock. Four of his senses are overstimulated, and the icing on the cake is your unrelenting sultry stare, making sure you were attending to his every need.

You were the goddess he never knew he could have.

Freak like me (Need a freak like me) You want a good girl that does bad things to you (You want a good girl) You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak Do, do-do, do-do, do-do (Now you need a freak)

You could feel him shudder underneath you and knew he was loosening up, edging closer to orgasm. His whimpers and groans were now louder, and he’d found the confidence to latch onto your nipples, pawing at the skin with his hand whilst his tongue swirled along the hardened bud.

Spreading your legs over his, you angled his face towards you as, taking in his hazel eyes. 

“Touch me, Mike,” you said, gaze flickering down to your pussy. “Touch me like I’m touching you…”

He moves away from your breasts to make his way between your legs, his fingers sliding into your wet cunt. He lets out a deep sigh at the sensation, feeling rather proud of himself as you begin to writhe against him.

“Is this good?” he asks, sliding a second finger into you. 

“So good,” you moan. “You’re so good for me, Mike,”

His heart and his cock swells, and your bodies begin to move in sync. He quickly finds your clit as your pace quickens on his cock, and you both begin to reach a point of ecstasy.

“Y/N…” he whimpers, lips wet and eyes glassy. “I’m gonna—“

“I know, baby,” you whisper on his lips. “But not yet,” you say abruptly, and draw away. He’s shocked, and stares at you open mouthed.

You respond with nothing but a smile.

“I’m only here to guide you to enlightenment, not give. You have to do the rest,”

He’s totally blank.

“Let go, Mike. I’m here,” you say sweetly, and it feels strangely romantic. “Take me…Do you want me on top, or bottom?”

“Top,” he responds without hesitation. “You’re beautiful,”

Mike can barely contain his euphoria. You, a literal sex goddess, are sat on his lap, body on full display as he fucks up into your tight, wet pussy. The pleasure is almost painful, and he’s almost worried that he’s hurting you by the way his hands are gripped on your hips and his thrusts are desperate and sloppy. All the anger and frustration from his past was slowly unravelling, and judging by the knot in his stomach, so was he.

Freak like me Freak like me (You never, you never, you never been) You want a good girl that does bad things to you You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak (You need a freak) Do, do-do, do-do, do-do (You need a freak) Freak like me (Like me, papa)

“Oh fuck,” you whine. “You’re perfect, Mike. So perfect,”

You weren’t lying, he looked gorgeous; pussy drunk and sweating, his frayed bangs clinging to his forehead in an odd pattern. Your lips met once again as he pulled you into him by your waist, the kiss sloppy as he drew his cock deeper into your cunt, hitting all of the right areas. 

“I’m so close Mike,” you whined. “Cum for me…”

“Where…?” he whispered. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to see you covered in his cum, or see it seep out of you and down your thighs. 

“Wherever you feel best,” you said devilishly, before placing your lips to his ear. “I’m on the pill,”

The words sent him over the edge as he came, hot and heavy spurts of cum filling into your warmth as you finished along with him. Mike bit his lip as he held you close, almost on the verge of tears as you soothed him through the last of his orgasm. A weight had suddenly been lifted away, and he could feel his eyes grow heavy with tiredness.

After a few moments you pulled away from each other, your nude bodies dropping to either side of the couch. Still high from orgasm, you pulled your dress back on and leant over the armrest to open a drawer, not oblivious to the way Mike was staring at you fondly.

Babe, you never been with no one nastier than me Oh, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby Put your head on my shoulder Hold me in your arms, baby Squeeze me oh so tight Show me that you love me too

“Wanna blaze?” You asked, holding a joint to your lips. He paused in thought, not wanting to let go of the moment before answering.

“Can I use your phone?”

You nodded and gestured to the phone, watching as Mike dialled a number. 

“Hey, Max - Can you put Abby on the phone? Something’s come up and I can’t make it home tonight…”

[ceilidho]

Ok if this doesn't sound like an idea you'd be interested in then disregard, i don't want to bother you 🙂 BuT! It's been itching the back of my brain since forced throuple au and creepy-apartment!ghost has compounded it so:

Forced throuple but a sort of android verse with some body snatching horror thrown in for flavor. Reader's husband (Soapy boy) dies suddenly and in their grief a lot of stuff has gone into disrepair, so they mail order an android to help around the house and with crippling loneliness. The company sends Ghost, a refurbished security model now named Simon, and he ends up being pretty helpful despite the silent brooding. Hell, sometimes that even helps as scary dog privilege so you let it slide (big mistake dumby, that android is falling for you in the process of taking care of you ohhh no-).

But maybe Ghosts old security features make him super observant (obsessive) paired with his new "fix it" code make him come to the conclusion that, actually, reader could still use her husband and mail orders a Soap-bot-3000 without letting them know :O. Watch the horror unfold as Reader wakes up one morning to her VERY NOT dead husband in bed and both Ghost and Soap acting like nothing is wrong :)))), maybe some "Simon reverts fo Ghost" too as the story progresses

this is from awhile ago (apologies, anon) and so wickedly weird and cool :)))

androids that are so realistic and bodies so malleable that they almost feel lifelike, like they're flesh and blood. you never wanted to actually give in and purchase one because you have personal qualms with the idea of something so human-looking being programmable and subservient to you; it's just always felt wrong and borderline cruel, and johnny used to concur with you when you spoke about it. that was then though. years and months and weeks before the accident.

now it's midday on a tuesday and you can't even get out of bed. there are two weeks of dishes in the sink and the lawn is overgrown and the feral cats haven't stopped by in days because you haven't had the strength to get up and feed them. your voicemail's been full for days. your sister stopped by and insisted when she saw the state of your house. "at least for a few weeks," she pleaded with you. you can always return it when you're back on your feet. she's already ordered you one from 141 Labs before she's even out the door, making you promise to give it a shot.

when you open the box, you worry that you might've ordered the wrong model. the size of the android they sent you feels out of place, like he's meant for private military companies or as a bodyguard for celebrities. not depressed accountants who can't get out of bed because their husband died two weeks ago. but it's your name on the receipt, your address. so when his blue eyes flare neon when he's first activated and all six feet and four inches of him sit up in the crate (that had to be wheeled in by two delivery men, you recall with a small amount of horror), you wait patiently to introduce yourself.

maybe this one was sent to you because of the defect. he wears a mask because the only layer of skin on his face starts from the bottom of his face down. at first you roll the mask up only to shudder at the exposed wiring and metal where cheekbones should be. you roll it back down.

he comes with a name. Ghost. that's his model, you surmise from the lengthy instruction booklet you're provided. the whole situation feels weird at first; his presence in your house always catches you off guard, even though, you suppose, it's his house now too. you jump whenever you walk into a room and he's just there, silent, so large that you nearly always think Threat first before you recognize him. maybe it's not fully your fault. he makes no effort to signal his presence, moving silently from room to room when he helps carry out the garbage or swifter the living room. sometimes you catch him staring at the photos of you and johnny that still line the top of the fireplace.

you try to be equitable, insisting that he take the guest room as his own. Ghost won't hear of it, following you into your room when night falls; ominous. you have to lock yourself in the en suite to change, heart beating away because you know he's standing just outside the door, like a cat waiting to be let in. shaking hands drag your clothes down. you stare blankly at the door while you shower, fingers twitching when you pass a washcloth over your nipples.

you think there's something wrong with you. you're sick or something. you're sick or something worse because your husband died two weeks ago and the thing in your house isn't even a human and still your stomach clenches when you think of him waiting for you in your room, knowing that you're naked behind the door. it's taboo; it's not something that's done, at least not something that's spoken about. people don't sleep with their androids. recent widows especially should not be thinking about fucking their androids.

two weeks go by. you can't even think about johnny without wincing these days.

"he was your husband."

you look up. Ghost says it like a fact, not a question. you're in the living room sorting through insurance papers while Ghost vacuums under the sofa (he lifts the corner up with just a single hand; you swallow, throat already dry). neon blue eyes zip across your face when you look over at him. you wonder sometimes what he sees there, etched into the plains of your face.

"yeah." your smile is tight, pained. "johnny."

he looks back down to the framed photo in his hand, studying it. you wish you could ask him what he's thinking about, but you worry that would be just another privacy stripped. you can't ask more of him.

"what happened to him?" he finally asks, looking up again.

you feel it catch in your throat. "he, um - he." it doesn't come out. your nose stings before you can even try to get more out. you grimace, shrug instead. you try to smile again, but it's warped, unpleasant to form much less look at. don't ask, it says, whatever you do, please, please don't ask.

"you miss him?"

you blink at him, misty eyed. "ye - of course."

his eyes are so, so blue when he stares across the room at you. it's unnerving to look at; terrifying to find yourself under his scrutinizing gaze. what do androids even think about?

"I understand." he puts the photo back on the bookshelf and walks out of the room.

sometimes you catch him watching you too intensely; rare moments when he doesn't seem entirely mechanical. you wonder if one day you'll roll the mask up and there'll be skin there suddenly, a real flesh and blood person. it feels entirely possible some days. he moves too fluidly, has his own quirks and intricacies that seem newer each day.

you don't try it. the minuscule amount of professional space between the two of you is an absolute. you worry sometimes what you'll let happen if you ever let that distance collapse. already he sleeps motionlessly in the chair beside your bed, refusing his own room. he powers down with his eyes still open, the blue flickering away to a dark grey. it's only mildly reassuring.

when you open your eyes in the middle of the night though, he stares back at you, eyes dark and sightless.

you worry sometimes that you might have made a mistake, letting your sister talk you in to this.

it's the arm tucked around your waist when you're doing the shopping, freezing for a second before the hand on your hip squeezes and he pulls you towards the fruit and veg. it's the menacing stare from over your shoulder when a man approaches you in the checkout lane, offering his condolences (an old colleague of your husband's, he says) and an invitation to dinner. you open your mouth only for Ghost to answer for you.

"No." it thrums out of him, a different modulation. you stare helplessly as the man's face goes white and he makes an excuse to leave, offering you another lame apology.

it's the hand that tugs you out of the store by the back of your shirt, Ghost's voice rumbling like he doesn't know you can hear him. saying something about how you don't need another man in your house. that you had johnny and now you have him.

[munsonfamilyband]

I’ve had a Different Meeting AU stuck in my head for ages and I’ve decided to share it

After Starcourt Steve can’t sleep. The nightmares and panic keeps him from getting sleep; if he’s lucky he gets an hour. After a week he’s falling apart and he suddenly remembers a piece of his past - he remembers smoking weed with Tommy H and sleeping like a baby. So he starts digging, ends up having to talk to people he never wanted to speak to again, but he finds out who to call.

Eddie Munson. The name is familiar, but the number isn’t. Steve calls Eddie and sets up a meeting the next day to buy some weed. When he drives to the meeting spot he walks through how he’s going to apologize for who he was. Steve is pretty sure he never did anything to Eddie but he wants to be safe rather than sorry. He gets out of his car and ambles through the woods to meet Eddie at a picnic table. Eddie Munson is sitting on the table, legs kicked out in front of him and leaning back on his elbows. Steve quickly averts his eyes from the tattoo he can see on Eddie’s stomach where his shirt has ridden up. He’s aware that he finds men attractive, has been since Jonathan beat him up in ‘83, but now is not the time. Eddie looks up when Steve steps into the clearing and smirks.

“You’re late, I was starting to think you were going to stand me up.”

“Uh, sorry, I got a little side tracked. But um, before we do this I wanted to say sorry…I guess? I’m not sure if I ever did anything to you in school, I’m pretty sure I didn’t but I wanted to apologize for being a dick anyway.” Eddie just blinks at him, grin gone, as he sits up fully while still sitting on the table.

“You’re….. sorry?”

“Yeah, man. I’m trying to be a better person, throw the whole ‘King Steve’ shit out, and I figured that apologizing to the guy I’m hoping will sell me weed is a good place to start, y’know?” Steve knows that there’s a flush crawling up his neck from the embarrassment, can feel it heating up his ears, but he can’t focus on that with Eddie Munson staring at him with his big eyes and wild, curly hair- nope, stopping that right now.

“Oh. Well, you didn’t do anything, I mean, your buddy, Tommy H, used to fuck with me until he started buying my shit. The guy’s almost feral but he isn’t stupid enough to piss off his dealer. So, I guess we’re good then?” Steve breathes out a sigh of relief, moving closer to the table to sit while Eddie climbs down to sit on the opposite side. “So, how do you want to do this?”

Steve clears his throat, glancing around a bit. Eddie probably assumes it’s from nerves around the deal, which is fine with Steve. He doesn’t need to know that Steve is still looking over his shoulder for Russians and flesh monsters. “Uh, look, man. I know you’re wondering about my face, and it has to do with why I’m looking to buy. I was at the mall when it…burned down.” Steve hears Eddie mumble something like ‘holy shit’ under his breath. “I got knocked over during the panic and got trampled,” Steve easily lies. The cover story had been repeated to him until he knew it just as well as the real events. “Ever since, I’ve been having a hard time sleeping and I know weed can help so I was looking to get some to help.” He can feel Eddie’s eyes on him, studying his face in a way that reminds him eerily of Nancy.

“I can totally get why you would need weed after that. But, no offense or anything, you seem way more nervous about this than normal.” Steve can’t help but sigh, of course the drug dealer can read him like a book.

“Yeah, I uh, I got drugged when I was at a club a little while ago. I guess I’m nervous about being high again, even though I need to sleep.” Steve meets Eddie’s eyes and watches a complicated series of emotions flash across the other man’s face before seeming to decide on something.

“Okay, I normally wouldn’t do this, but you really do seem to be trying to be better, and you’ve clearly been through a lot lately, so I’m going to make an offer and you can decline if you want, but I figured I would try.” Eddie takes a deep breath, Steve narrowly avoiding watching his cheat expand with it. “Because you’re nervous about this, I can waive the fee this time and bring the pot to smoke with you. So that you don’t have a bad trip, or whatever.” Steve freezes, thrown aback by the offer. After a moment he is able to voice a response.

“You would do that for me?”

“I mean, just because I deal drugs doesn’t mean I have no morals. It feels weird to sell you shit and then let you go off on your own knowing you had a traumatic experience.”

Steve, despite being stunned, manages a smile. “That- thank you, Eddie. That is- I appreciate it a lot.”

The quickly make a plan to meet up the next day at Steve’s house, and Steve offers to get food as payment.

This pattern continues for a month before Eddie’s friends convince him to try a move on Steve - who has been maybe flirting since they met - and the night ends with them making out on Eddie’s couch. They date happily for 6 months, laughing as they pretend to not know each other in front of the kids, until the first day of Spring Break Steve sees a trailer he spends more time at than his own house on the news. As soon of Dustin and Max show up, Steve is grabbing his keys and running to his car, knowing exactly where Eddie is hiding.

Steve never wanted his boyfriend to get involved with this part of his life, but there is no way he will leave him alone now that he is.

[xodarling]

I just need something with Himiko (HSR) Just getting it doggy style with a strap on and Himiko or the reader to have a major exhibition kink..🥴

like imagine himiko getting fucked behind close doors but she's trying to get Dan or someone else to stay away from coming in the room by talking to them and trying not to moan

Please 🤲

QUIET DOWN - xodarling

includes: what the request says, fem!reader, himeko’s sick of your shenanigans, but she complies anyway cuz she luvs u😘 , insatiable!reader, ur younger than her, lowercase writing, usage of y/n, pet names (hun, darling, mama (not in a weird way), dear)

a/n: okay 🤲

“please, please, please!” right now, you’re begging himeko to have sex with you, again. “honey, we just made love not too long.” she sighs, “hime.. i can’t do it later, i’m busy!” you hit the mattress below you like a little baby having a tantrum.

“okay, hun.” himeko sighs with a slight giggle, she really can’t understand how you manage to have so much energy no matter what you do. once himeko gave you an okay you practically pounced on top of her, strap quickly put on since it wasn’t too far away.

you quickly discarded her clothing, and attacked her already bruised neck, adding even more bruises. himeko softly moans as your lips press against the skin of her neck, relaxing as you take your time littering her skin with hickeys.

you grab her tits, playing with the fat surrounding the nipple and then the nipple itself. you take a bite into her milky flesh, leaving a bite mark on of her boobs.

himeko sighs as you take your time sucking and biting her tits. once you had your fill you go lower and lower, kissing her stomach and then her cunt. “mama, you’re dripping.” you run a finger over her slit, “of course i am, you treat me so well.” himeko sighs out.

you then position the plastic tip on top of her cunt and push it in quickly. himeko yelps out once you fully push the strap-on inside of her, her walls being stretched by your dick. once you bottom out inside her you give her no time to react and start plowing your hips into her in an animalistic way.

himeko’s back completely arches, her moans are bouncing off the walls while her chest jiggles with every thrust. a loud moan rips itself out her throat once you hit that spongy spot inside her walls, yelps and whines get louder the more you hit her g-spot. himeko felt her orgasm approaching at a rapid pace your thrusts increasing in tenfold, just a little more and she’ll cum.

“himeko? are you alright?” you stopped thrusting once you heard that calm voice speaking behind the door, before himeko could respond you turn her around, her ass in full display for you to see. “dan heng.. hnghh, what are you— doing here?” himeko bites her lip to conceal any sort of noise that she makes.

you start thrusting, quickly but not harshly to not make any sort of skin slapping happen. “i heard sounds coming from your room, i just wanted to see if you were okay.” how sweet of dan heng, worrying about his fellow express member, completely unaware of what’s happening behind that door.

you quicken your thrusts making them light and fast, “it sounded like someone was in pain.” dan heng added to the end of his sentence, himeko was face planted into her bed, her back completely arched and eyes were rolled back and brimmed with tears. “ah.. no! no, everything’s fine.. don’t worry.. hngh..”

himeko somehow manages to yelp out, the tip of your silicone dick repeatedly hits her g-spot, her back arching with how much pleasure you’re giving her, the fact that someone’s outside, completely oblivious to what’s happening makes her cunt suck in your strap even more.

“are you sure, i’m coming in—” the door knob twists just a slight bit, “no! don’t come in! i’m dealing with something personal, i need.. ah.. some alone time..” himeko’s eyes were fully white now, you’re hand gripping her and pulling it up, her back against your chest.

you move both your hands and play with her nipples, occasionally bringing one down and playing with the fat of her ass, her lip was swollen and bleeding from all the biting. her hands gripping the sheets below both of you, her mouth open wide as silent moans make their way through her mouth.

“oh, alright, i’ll be going then.” dan heng mutters through the door, his voice getting farther before it completely disappears. once his voice stops you push himeko down, making her back arch once again and grab her hips to start plowing away again.

curses and whines start to bounce off the walls wildly, loud slaps of skin on skin as your hips meet hers. “darling..! slow— ah.. down!” himeko whines out, her grip on the sheets getting tighter and tighter, your hands coming down and striking himeko’s ass as you watch it ripple with each thrust.

himeko’s back started to arch even more as her tongue lolled out her mouth, drool dripping down and wetting the sheets. loud almost pornographic moans get even louder as you sneak one of your hands down to her clit, ferociously rubbing it.

her slick starts to drip down her thighs, her orgasm rapidly approaching. your hips start to smash against her ass, the fat of it jiggling with each harsh thrust, you throw your head back as sweat starts to trail down your body, leaving a thin coat of sweat all over your body.

himeko makes more incoherent sounds, trying to warn you about her getting close, not like that’s necessary her cunt sucking in your strap was enough for you to know. you lean down and bite at her soft shoulder, leaving a red bite mark on it.

a loud moan leaves himeko’s throat, the tight knot in her stomach getting tighter, she reaches her hand back tapping your bare thigh, wordlessly telling you she was about to cum. “please, hime, cum for me..” you whine against her ear, your hips burning as your animalistic thrusts get harder and faster.

she arched her back completely, her thighs start to shake as she yelps out something that sounded like your name. your hips don’t stop, continuing to fuck her through her orgasm, her moans get louder as your tip hits that spot inside her again and again.

her face is buried into a pillow she grabbed, her loud almost ear deafening moans are muffled by this pillow. that pure orgasmic pleasure courses through himeko’s body in waves, each one intensified by your thrusts, her walls clamping down even tighter as your hips force the strap even deeper.

her hips are bucking as you continue to fuck her during and after her orgasm, only stopping when your hips give out from all strength you were using to fuck her. your body falls and lands on top of himeko, your bare chest pressed against her smooth back as you both pant from exhaustion.

himeko sighs into the pillow, attempting to collect herself as sweat drips down her body. she whimpers quietly when you straighten your back and place your hands back on her meaty hips, giving her ass a loud slap.

“let’s go again, yeah?” you pant out, you flip himeko onto her back and start to fondle her chest.

both of you will have to have a very awkward talk with rest of the express after this.

[inklore]

the price of pity

premise: namor can’t blame you for wanting to reach out and touch him, to tease him, to silently beg him to take you upstairs and fuck you into your mattress. he can however blame you for acting so needy the two of you almost get caught.

pairing: dbf!namor x (f)reader

word count: 2.9k+

warnings: namor is a mean!dom it’s canon, fingering, dirty talk, brat tamer!namor, mentions of past p in v, teasing, degradation, nose riding mention, name calling but in a hot way, established secret relationship, age gap (readers in her 20s), mentions of sexting, amenaza means menace.

note: am i addicted to writing dbf!namor now thanks to my fellow whores out there? maybe, possibly, yes. this idea struck me like a punch to the gut and my insides wouldn’t rest until i wrote it so please suffer along with me.

part one | feel free to send more thots on these two!

You’ve come to learn that keeping secrets takes little to no effort at all when said secret is something that makes you happy. Something that brings the sun into your life, making you realize that the light within it before was just artificial lighting. Or maybe it was less poetic than that. Maybe you just liked how it felt to not be at odds with a man you never realized you burned for until he grabbed your face and singed your skin with his lips.

Or perhaps you just liked how much he made you come.

Casually hooking up with someone was not new to you. You’ve had your share of sexual encounters to know what you like, what you don’t like, and the type of person you like said things from. You didn’t expect anything to differ when it came to being with Namor. Didn’t expect it to get past the kiss in the kitchen that had been cut short from your fathers arrival.

You hadn’t expected a text from him that night while you laid in bed, a simple conversation of limits and misplaced guilt and fear that quickly turned into dirty words. And perfectly angled photos of his broad chest and happy trail—a video of his cock in hand following shortly after.

Nor did you expect to end up tangled in his bed sheets days later.

It was hard to wrap your head around something you didn’t impose on happening, didn’t think about happening until his kiss almost knocked you off your feet, and your name coming from his mouth as he came on your stomach had made you woozy.

But this was your reality now, and where shame should have lied, your attachment to Namor had grown.

Like vines wrapping around said shame and guilt and fear of being caught by your father, suffocating it. Letting the press of his tongue and the tip of his cock fully snuff it out until all there was was you and Namor.

And your secret meetings.

Meetings that made you realize—after the first time—your history of sexual encounters couldn’t come close to something like this. Like him. How he made you come undone with only words, the tip of his tongue and nose, a hand at your throat, nails digging so deep into the flesh of your hips from behind that he left you with bruises shaped like little moons to fawn over in the shower.

He had taken what you liked and turned it into true desire. True need.

It almost made you despise him—how he could make you come harder than you yourself ever could. Or how un-smug he was about it. How he still wore that beautiful scowl when he looked at you but now he just smiled a little more. Smirked, Would pull you to his chest when you were coming down and only start fucking you again when you begged him for it.

And it only frustrated you even more—where the despising really came in—when you’d wonder how long this would last.

How long could the two of you get away with this, how long did he want to keep doing it?

They were thoughts you quickly shot down. Let get wrapped up in those vines that were hiding you from the ugly truths and what ifs of this new relationship. If the time came where your father found out you knew that giving Namor up would never be an option. He said it himself: “if I keep touching you, if I let myself cross that line, I’ll never stop.”

And he hadn't.

And while keeping it a secret became easy—with little effort—not being able to touch Namor while he was over, when he came to visit your father, seemed to become more of a challenge with each visit.

There were only so many dark looks from across the room, or sweeps of his eyes up your legs, and upturns of smirks when you accidentally brushed past him or sent him a cheeky text while he shared beer with your father—you could handle. It all ending the same way, reaching the same destination with stolen kisses, a slap on the ass, and the stretch of his cock inside of you when you feed your dad another lie to get out of the house and over to his.

That still didn’t make it easy to pretend like nothing was going on when you could smell his cologne from across the room, or the sound of his deep chuckle making your thighs press closer together. The knowing glances of burning want behind his dark eyes when he caught you staring when you weren’t supposed to be.

So right now, as you sat with your exposed outer thigh pressed against his—as he manspreads on the, now, very small sofa the two of you were sharing—as the three of you watched a game you did not care about; you were going crazy.

Each time he shifts your body moves, pulling you into his frame more and more as if he were calling to your body, like some silent siren song. The pheromones from his cologne clogging your nostrils, the memory of how even sweat slicked against your body—your face buried into the crook of his neck—the musky sea salt scent still sticks to him. Still make your brain cloud over.

The parts he’s touching burn.

Make you squirm on the sliver of cushion his body allows you to have. The insides of your thighs pressed so tight together that your muscles ache; to be released, touched, smoothed over by his rough palms. The longer you sit here the longer your mind toys with the need you feel between your legs. And you really can’t help it. It's as if he’s rewired your entire DNA to crave him, even when you know you can’t. When you shouldn’t touch him—can’t touch him. You know how wrong it is to reach your hand out and let your fingers skate over the seam of his jeans, but you can’t help yourself.

The look he shoots you is deadly, making something dangerous twist at your insides like a bull seeing a red flag.

He’s not amused.

Barely gives you any reactions other than the few deadly scowls. If it wasn’t for the tick in his jaw and how his glare burns a hole through the tv, you wouldn’t think he was affected at all by your little touches—brushes, squirms and noises you’re manically dishing out right behind your fathers back. His recliner angled perfectly out of view of your shenanigans.

Maybe that’s why you’re so wet right now. Why your underwear is sticking to you uncomfortably. The risk of getting caught, of Namor slipping up and showing you the desire he only does behind closed doors right here in the open.

But he doesn’t feed into it. Doesn’t grant your silly behavior with the reaction you went; even if the scowl that’s shadowing his face turns you on more than the lightning strike of his smile.

When your dad stands up during a half time break your body instinctively wants to jump back. Move away from Namor and pretend your body isn’t completely on fire, heated with something you shouldn’t feel for him—try to act as normal as possible. And you’re sure you succeed, like every other time before this. With a soft smile and foe interest at whatever is going on on the tv.

Your fathers words going in one ear and out the other as your eyes blink from the tv to Namor’s side profile. The genuinely friendly smile he gives your dad at whatever he’s saying he’s going to do in the basement, makes your chest swoop. The stretch of his neck, the skin you love to bite and suck at there to hear him growl against your ear. The bump in his nose that you love to feel when he’s eating you out; you’re overheating.

He can’t be mad at you for wanting to reach over and touch him, to tease him, to silently beg him to take you upstairs and fuck you into your mattress—can he? He wouldn’t be. Right?

Wrong.

You realize when your fathers footsteps disappear into the kitchen and the heavy groan of the basement steps being walked on fades into silence. A groan of pain croaking in the back of your throat when Namor grabs you by the jaw, pulling you so very close to his face—too close, too much of an agitated look in his eye for it to be romantic, the type of closeness and grip you’d give to an enemy, not someone you’re fucking.

“Stop.”

The innocent look you give him isn’t a play. Another tease to keep the game going, to let him know how much you want him. He knows. He always knows. No. The look you’re giving him is one you’d give when your jaw is aching from the hold on it and the intensity of the dark eyes burning through you.

“Amenaza,” he sneers in his native tongue. Making your cheeks burn hotter, your voice losing all backing of the tough-teasing-stance you had minutes ago.

“I can’t help it.” You frown, let your palm splay against his upper thigh, “going all day without you touching me feels like a crime.” Your attempts at a teasing joke only make his stare more agitated. The smile you try to surface hard to do when his fingers feel like they're about to snap your jaw in two.

“I’m questioning your smarts, again.”

You start to speak but he cuts you off with harsh words, “if you wanted to be fucked as bad as you’re claiming, you think you would be smart enough to not ruin the chances of it ever happening again by getting caught.” The back of his thumb rubs against the line of your jaw, his eyes making a slow show of tracing the outline of your face from your eyes to your lips and back up again. “Or does that get you off? Getting caught, never coming by my hand–or my cock–again. I used to think you were a good girl. But having seen just how easily,” the pad of his thumb pulls at your bottom lip, “it is to get you cock drunk. I know I was mistaken in thinking that.”

The breath coming out of your lungs in heavy puffs blows against his finger. The beat of your heart against your ribcage makes it even harder to breathe. To function and suffice an argument to shoot back at him. An argument that would just be throwing matchsticks into an already blazing fire; useless.

The pounding between your legs becoming so unbearable you can’t help but try and get some friction by grinding your ass into the couch as subtly as possible. A subtle motion that is just the opposite of what you want it to be, but sends tingles down your spine and relieves a fraction of the ache you’re fighting tooth and nail with.

Namor notices right away. His eyes move down to the movements you halt once you realize the aforementioned lack of subtleness. Your need making you feel girlishly stupid and frustrated.

You despised him. You really did.

“You want me to touch you with your father in the next room?” He questions, looks at you with a curl of disgust on his lips. A look you can’t tell is genuine or not, but makes flutters swarm your stomach either way. He doesn’t let you answer, you’re sure he doesn’t want you to with the way he’s looking at you. With the way he pulls you forward so his lips are now so close to yours that when he speaks again you can feel the brush of his mustache. “You’re such a whore. You’re sick.” His tone low and like gravel against your aching insides.

“You like it,” you breathe. Stare down at his lips before meeting his dark eyes again.

Your retort making the grip on your already stinging jaw press harder into the bone, surely bruising skin, as he grips it harder—tighter, if that’s even possible. The look of disgust setting his brows down even lower, eyes narrowed.

You don’t expect to feel the hard indents of his free hand grabbing the back of your thigh, pulling your legs apart. A slap to your inner thigh making you gasp when you don’t keep yourself spread for him. His silence even more of an anticipation than the feel of his fingertips dancing up your thighs. Slipping past the waistband of the cloth shorts adorning your lower half.

The look that flashes over his eyes when he touches the outside of your panties, feels how soaked they are, makes a pathetic noise hitch in your throat. The gasp you let out even louder when he presses two fingers against the wet fabric, spreading you through them and coming down on your clit. Your fingers digging into the side of his t-shirt to ground yourself. To remind you that your father is just below you. That he’s barely touched you and you’re already so wet and ready for him that just a press of his fingers is making your hips gyrate, and feel close to coming.

“Am I the only one who fucks you like this? Makes you scream when you come?” He had said one night, mouth pressed to your ear as he held you down to the mattress, hips pounding hard against your ass as he fucked you.

And the answer was yes. Just as he doesn’t need to ask you if you’re this wet for him. You always are.

It’s when he finally stops teasing you from outside of your underwear and pushes past them that you can hear how wet you are—that both of you can, if the feral look on his face is anything to go by. The moans that you try to swallow down creeping up your throat like burning coals that refuse to go out. Adding to the symphony of filth you prey can’t be heard from downstairs.

As Namor’s knuckle rubs at your sensitive clit, two fingers push—as deep as your tightness will allow him to go—inside of you, fucking you with them.

“Shut up,” he demands as he releases your jaw to grip the back of your neck, pulling your mouth to his. “Keep your pretty mouth quiet, or this will be the last time you get fucked by any part of me.”

And it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever been asked to do.

Trying to keep the burning pleasure that he’s giving you, that is coiling your body like an overworked spring ready to give and come apart, from spilling from your mouth the way you want. The way you need. The way you know he loves.

But think he might love more.

The hard look he keeps flashing from your eyes to your mouth as it hangs open on silent sobs—the hand brushing against the outline of his cock pressing tight to his jeans—letting you know for certain.

His forehead presses to yours as he grunts “you don’t deserve my cock. You’re lucky I’m giving you my pity.” But he makes no move to remove your hand, to stop himself from slowly rocking his hips up to apply more pressure to himself, “so stop being greedy before I stop being nice.” He threatens.

Your palm freezes immediately and pulls away from his lap, the whine you want to let out swallowed down from the blaze of his glare when he pulls his head from yours. When he goes back to watching you, like he’s torturing the both of you. When you’re the one who’s trying not to lose it right now; at his threats, his beautifully deep brown eyes, and the way his fingers are fucking you so deep and slow while his knuckle plays with your clit in the opposite speed, making your legs instinctively itch to close the closer and closer you get to coming.

And you’re so fucking close you want to scream. To cry. To praise him for his pity on you.

“Look at me.” He demands, squeezing the skin at the back of your neck. “You wanted this, wanted to be a whore,” he says the derogatory word like a praise. Liquid smooth and thick with his own obvious lust. “So come for me,” and two, three—four—strokes against your clit and you’re coming. His mouth pressing hard against yours as he muffles the cries you let out. His tongue lapping them from your throat like the sweetest poison.

He doesn’t allow you to catch your breath before he’s pulling away from you though. Removing his hand from your shorts, slipping the two fingers that were inside of you into his mouth to clean, and then he’s righting himself back to normal. Grabbing his forgotten beer and pressing it to his mouth. A smile on his face just as your father walks back into the room.

He doesn’t look to you again until a commercial breaks on the screen and your dad is too busy going off on a tenant over something that’s barely registering in your focus, because your head is still cloudy with coming down—and trying to right your breath without your dad noticing, which is harder said than done; your panties sticking uncomfortably to you now that you’ve ruined them even more.

The heat from him as he leans close to you, lips to the shell of your ear, only reigniting those just sedated aches, as he speaks in a whisper. “You’re not off the hook. My kindness comes with a price and you’re going to pay for it until you’re begging for me to take it away.”

[the-lazy-cat-bakes-souffles]

I can’t stop thinking about the way that when Robin hears Nancy’s name in Season 3 she rolls her eyes and calls her a priss, but then not five minutes later she runs into Nancy in the flesh who’s apparently in the thick of the insane situation Robin has become unwittingly wrapped up in. Her makeup is smudged and her hair is messy and she’s terse with Robin and all Robin can do is utter a flustered reply while giving her this look:

And then shortly afterwards Robin watches as Nancy plants herself in front of a station wagon full of kids and shoots at an oncoming speeding car with a pistol, fully ready to sacrifice herself to protect them. That night at the Star Court Mall changes everything Robin thought about this dainty, pretty, prissy girl who turns out to be a certified badass with nerves of steel. 

After this, Robin is smitten. She volunteers to go with Nancy the moment an opportunity presents itself. When they’re waiting in the library, she assumes that Nancy has some genius trick up her sleeve because since Star Court she’s built up an idea of who she is in her mind: brilliant and brave and tenacious. Robin is so desperate for Nancy to like her that she loses all pretense of sardonic aloofness that we see around other characters and the words start spilling out, exactly as she described when venting to Steve about how she behaves around girls she’s crushing on. 

Robin is self-conscious and apologetic about how she comes across to Nancy, she repeatedly tries to diffuse the underlying tension between them in any way that she can, and is particularly keen to emphasise the platonic nature of her friendship with Steve. Despite barely knowing Nancy, she starts using the nickname “Nance” right away. There’s a sincere and earnest effort to win Nancy’s approval and affection; Robin needs it more than she even realises.

And the thing is, it works. Nancy starts off cool and irritable and exasperated (which, one should point out, may be in no small part because she’d been up all night looking for her friend who she just found brutally murdered - cut her some slack folks!), but after those two hours with Robin in the library, she realises that she’s remarkably bright and creatively minded and complements her own logical way of thinking so well. You can see the journey she undergoes in that short period of time written on her face: bemusement and impatience soon give way to respect and the dawning realisation that she’s met her intellectual match, someone with the same insatiable curiosity and a whole new way of seeing the world to show her. 

Nancy has so many emotional walls built up from years of repression and trauma, especially surrounding having and losing friends (not to mention, potentially, her own repressed queerness), but Robin despite her insecurities over her lack of filter and tendency to ramble and her other personal quirks manages to steal in past those defences. After that first encounter together, Nancy wants Robin by her side at all times. Even though she knows Steve, Dustin, Lucas and Max so much better, she picks Robin to come with her to Pennhurst, she asks Robin to explore the Creel House with her, she has Robin ride shotgun with her in her car. They stick together as a pair at every turn. 

This is so, so important: Nancy grows to like and care about Robin because of her being totally and utterly herself. The Robin whose mouth moves faster than her brain, the Robin who is relentlessly inquisitive and goofy and clumsy, the Robin who is at her most overtly neurodivergent around her. And Robin is slowly but surely finding confidence in herself and courage through that relationship, she’s taking risks she never would have before, and learning that her perceived flaws are actually strengths. When talking to Warden Hatch at Pennhurst with Nancy, it’s her runaway way with words that saves them and leaves Nancy incredibly impressed. The unmasked, unfiltered, beautiful gay disaster Robin Buckley is the person Nancy comes to admire and develops a deep fondness for. 

It’s been said many times before, but Robin and Nancy complete each other. As we’ve just established, Nancy quickly becomes a source of reassurance, inspiration and affirmation for Robin. And Robin is someone who can keep up with Nancy’s laser-focused fixations and faced-paced thinking, who can challenge her to consider things she never would have otherwise. She also encourages Nancy to be more honest with herself and makes her feel at ease at a time when she’s more lost than ever. Robin is always carefully reading Nancy and respects her opinions and feelings; she’s the friend and confidant Nancy has been missing in her life all this time since losing Barb.

When they’re talking in the woods, it’s not what Robin says about Steve or Jonathan that Nancy latches onto. What truly takes her aback is the realisation that Robin considers them to be friends, and both quietly, bashfully blush and smile to themselves at that confirmation. However adrift Nancy might be from her complex feelings over Jonathan and Steve or her unhealed emotional scars, she’s found an anchor in someone. However insecure Robin might feel about herself, she’s found a girl who she doesn’t have to pretend with.

And then we come to perhaps the most revealing scene of the season so far: when Eddie, Steve, Nancy and Robin are on the boat over Lover’s Lake. The parallels to Tammy Thompson are evident as Robin stares at Nancy who can’t pull her eyes away from Steve, and the way in which the camera focuses on the two characters in the frame imparts so much more than Robin simply being happy for the rekindled feelings of her friends. Her longing expression breaking into a soft smile and the bowing of her head feels like the sad acceptance of something she believes to be unattainable for her. 

Nancy demonstrates her trademark reckless abandon to protect the people she loves when she dives in to rescue Steve without hesitation after he’s pulled under, but Robin’s reaction is gut-wrenching as she cries out Nancy’s name and reaches for her. And then Robin, who beneath her snarky facade is far more scared than she likes to let on, pushes down those fears and without wasting a second moves to go after her with a sense of resigned determination. The framing of this scene, the dialogue and Maya Hawke’s performance make it clear that Robin is willingly following Nancy Wheeler into hell. As Eddie says, that’s as sure a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen. 

Regardless of whether the romantic subtext is intentional or this relationship is supposed to remain strictly platonic, Nancy and Robin’s blossoming friendship is a very special one. Having swiftly dismantled their presumptions about one another, they’ve found true synergy, inspiring and pushing each other to be the best versions of themselves. In spite, or rather because of their differences, the two are slowly but surely forging a profound bond that is already one of the most charming and memorable on the show to date, and with any luck, we’ll get some meaningful and moving payoffs to their arcs together in Vol 2. Perhaps, through each other, Nancy and Robin will finally find the closure, catharsis and connection they’ve been yearning for. 

Thanks so much to @meanlesbianrobin for providing the accompanying screenshots! 

[ask-the-prose]

Step 0 of Writing a Story

Everyone has a different method of planning and writing a story, whether it’s a novel, novella, short story, fanfiction, or anything else. The steps can look different for everyone and go in many different orders depending on what works for you.

But I want to talk about Step 0: developing the premise.

Many of us will use story premise and story concept interchangeably, but they’re quite different. The premise takes your concept and focuses it, including the basic bare-bones of the plot. A premise should have a few things: a protagonist, their motivation, obstacles they will face, and a setting.

The Protagonist

In the last couple of weeks, I’ve discussed characters and how to build a character arc; this comes into play here. Your protagonist is your main character, and the story revolves around them and their actions, motivations, and goals.

Your protagonist does not need to be the “hero,” “likable,” or “relatable.” They can be anything you would like them to be, so long as the story centers on them and their actions. Who is the story about? What is their name, and who are they at their most basic?

It’s important to know what the protagonist’s motivations are regarding their goals. What is their goal, and why do they want/need to achieve it?

The Setting

The setting is where the story takes place. This part can be a lot of fun! But when writing your premise, be sure to keep it concise. Worldbuilding comes later, and the premise is mostly about the plot.

What is most important to know about your setting? Is the world magical? Are there zombies? Condense it down to a sentence or two.

The Obstacles

The bread and butter of your premise comes down to what’s stopping your protagonist from achieving their goal immediately. As romance writers put it: why can’t they be together now?

The obstacle can be an institution, a person, or a group of people. The conflict between the protagonist and the obstacle is the core conflict of the story. Condense this struggle down to a sentence or two.

Drafting Your Premise

Now it’s time to put it all together. Some tips for drafting a strong premise:

Cut out extra words - imagine you’re trying to fit your premise into a tweet. What can you cut without losing meaning?

Use active voice

Leave room for curiosity

Your premise can be your guiding light for the rest of your story, from outlining to drafting to editing. The premise is there to help you build your story concept into a fully-fleshed project. Your premise should be short and to the point, something you can explain in an elevator.

– Indy