#reblogging my own set bc LOOK AT HIM

[izzy-b-hands]

Was gonna sleep in. Instead woke up randomly at 5 am and have been writing a fix it steddyhands fic since then

I work in like. six hours. I have gotten maybe four hours sleep. Today is a double shift day that'll have me working bit late into the night.

This is fine.

[cu7ie]

💋 big mouth ☆ ～('▽^人)

⠀⠀✿`` content warnings : gojo can't shut up. cervix fucking. switch reader and gojo. (gojo gets dommy at the end.) porn w/o plot. dirty talking, throat fucking, handjob, face humping, a lot of cum bc i said so nyeh nyeh, oral (dick-sucking/pussy licking), big dick gojo (and he knows it), reader has experience, gojo a little less so. stamina, gojo has it, you don't. cursing (lots of it). name-calling (both sides), afab reader. raw sex minors do not interact! 3.8k words Y'ALL.

⠀⠀✿`` author note : gojo cock is good. based as fuck please talk to me about gojo cock <3 also i fr think hes so annoying hes never quiet!! in my mind he so blah blah blah blah blah during sex . even if he dont like u he blah blah blah. also if you like my porn, reblog it! oh yeah!!! and leave comments omg... this fic got so away from me, idk how long it is its just so much fucking porn- also! @enchantedforest-network partner! join us hehehe

Gojo has a bit of a talking problem.

He's a blabbermouth at the best of times, and maybe in any other situation would you appreciate his insight. He's good at making mountains out of molehills, take your nothing and make it something; even when it's as mundane as the weather, he'll draw up his own storyboard and play all the different actors - reporter, news anchor, cameraman and "Satoru, coming to us live with the forecast,"

and at first it's charming, right? It's what endears most people to him; what attracted you in some respects. Bordering on bit of a god complex, Gojo's always been effortlessly confident; disarmingly charming; handsome to the point of aggravation. He's never a dull moment, always gives it his all, extra even when he's lazy.

But you thought maybe, just maybe,

if you shunt his pants down till they bunch around his ankles, and licked his cock from shaft to tip,

would he shut up then? Would he allow you a moment of silence (relative, because the sound of you sucking all up on his dick is decidedly extremely loud) to let your hair down, let your head bob back and forth, tongue slurping on the underside of his cock while your lips are wrapped firmly round the middle of his shaft?

"You really like sucking my dick, don't you?"

No. The answer is no.

His face has broken out into a smile, and you don't know if he's giggling out of incredulousness or nervousness - but you are surprised that all his blood hasn't gone to his dick, cause his cheeks are red. His hand cradles the back of your head graciously, sweat sliding down his nose because he has to crane his neck to ogle you.

"C'mon. You can take more of it inta your mouth - suck. Fucking suck." His hips shifty as you work your way towards the base of his shaft, and you chose to ignore the comment, what with cock in your mouth and all. He's gotten mouthy before, not like this, but it's nothing you can't handle.

See, Gojo's kinda ... easy. He can act all hard to get - er, mysterious and what not, but he's like any other aloof man with a pretty face. Afraid of gettin' close and not knowin' what to do with it. It, you know, -

And you do, but he keeps fucking up your rhythm by trying to fuck your hand. You give full strokes, rotating your wrist and pumping steady and quick, trying to look Gojo in his eyes as you're doing it, where as his gaze is dead set on your point of contact. "You're just a dog aren'tcha? Hump, hump, humpin', away." Your smile curling at the corners, at how easily he's giving himself to you. He's dripping pre,

His fat fucking cock. Thigh clenching, pussy watering, eye-widening kind of fat. Shit is so big can't even hold itself up, so you tell him "I can hold that for you," and he pants out as he nods rapidly, "Yes, please do." You get to jerking his cock and he's a whiny little bitch. "Faster" this, "More" that, moving your hand up and down his cock like you don't know what you're doing.

"Back up Satoru, I got this."

"Look at you - you're fucking panting."

And you think you'll get away with it. Get just grunt or a sigh in response. But of course his motorboat mouth starts going on...

"Yuh ... you're good, but, " He attempts nonchalance in a cherry tomato cosplay. Red red red all over. "You're holding out on me..." His tongue lolls at you playfully, and you decide anything not singing your praises wasn't worth hearing. He opens his mouth to say something else.

Your stutter your stroke (effectively cutting him off,) working your way to the head and massaging it between your thumb and forefinger. Sweat is pouring from Gojo's forehead. He's hiking his leg further apart on the couch so you have more space to touch him, your body snaking over his thigh, getting close enough for him to be able to feel your steady breaths on his cock. "Fuck! Stop - haah.." He groans like you're working him. You most definitely are. "Stop teasing.."

"A blowjob?" You purse your lips, ponder it over. "Think you'll be able to make it to the fucking?" Your breathing gets closer, and you feel him throb in your hand. "You sure seem excited! Just don't blow your load down my throat, save it for my pussy." You're teasing, licking your lips and pressing a sloppy kiss to his mushroom head. You could swear it'd gotten a little harder than before.

Only in those moments could you have recognized you gave the man a little too much power. When your pillowy, spit slicked lips wrapped around his throbbing cockhead, licking up the pre on your eager tongue, looking down and breathing deeply through your nose. He can hardly keep himself from lifting his hips and trying to pop through the other side of your throat with the damn thing!

Now, he's just a boy too big for his damn britches. He knows you give good head because of the way you move your tongue and jerk off whatever you can't reach, but it's not good enough head. He's big, sure, but for someone who talks like they fuck n' suck on the regular, something about the performance is feeling a wee bit lackluster...

And while you're busy thinking about how you got here, he's impatiently jutting his hips against your face.

"You listening to me?" His finger teasingly taps at your forehead, getting you out of your train of thought. "Don't tell me - I've already fucked your brains out? Maybe you're just a lil' cock-drunk. Got a remedy for that..."

He thrusts his hips and the rest of his dick tucks itself snugly into your wet warm mouth, head brushing past your uvula and nestling comfortably in your throat. You can't see the way your throat bulged a little, but you most definitely feel it. You make a noise, half-choke-half-whine, and he laughs gaily at the way his balls pap your chin. "Ah? You said something?" He peers down curious, your nose mingling well with the fluffy little hairs at the base of his cock.

You don't forget to breathe, although your eyes tear a little from his size. Your jaw and throat are being stretched to capacity, but you remind yourself 'through your nose'. It's fine for a bit longer - you bob up and down in relatively uninterrupted peace, til Gojo's hand on the back of your head gets a little too comfortable. "Just a little more... suck a little harder..."

Your face burns and you clutch at it, staring at him your the gaps in your fingers as he tucks into your pussy like it's supper. He's alright at it. He doesn't do it like all he's seen is shitty porn - he's really ... getting in there, actually. Oooh.... Ohh..

He starts trying to take over your flow, his grip firm enough to start bobbing your head up and down all on his own. Like your throat is just some fleshy, tight hole to fuck. Kinda makes your pussy drool, but that's besides the point. "Oh fuck.."

You moan and take it. Let him hump up into your mouth as his musk sorta clogs your nose. He's moaning so loud it drowns out most other cohesive thoughts in your mind, the plumpness of his balls cushioning your chin a little every time he tugs your head down. He's muttering stuff you can barely hear over the sound of sucking.

"Pretty baby. Here's to hoping you'll never suck anyone else's dick this good again.... holy shit..."

Eventually his grip lets up a little. It allows you more freedom in your movement for a bit. Though your jaw starts hurting sooner than later, so you give his balls a little pinch and he finally lets you up to take in a big good gulp of air.

His voice is a little shaky. "That was ... fuck ... that was nice." Your voice is a little raw, more croaky when you respond, "Just nice?" flicking his balls in irritation as you take huffing breaths. His cock twitches, shiny and coated in saliva, your drool dripping down over his sack - altogether one of your prettier pictures. "Y'know... what'd make that blowjob just a bit better?" He breathes like he missed oxygen, his sigh half content and mostly wheedling as one hand creeps towards the base of his cock, and his other gets comfy on your ass.

"You wanna fuck, Satoru?" He feigns a gasp, his mouth popping into a little surprised 'o' shape. His face can't belie his excitement, his palms clasping together almost comically before he realizes what he's doing and stops.

"Where could you have ever got that idea from...?" He says, jerking his cock a little and pointing it up to the sky. "Get over here." He pats your cheek with it. You're not against the idea, but Gojo hasn't impressed you enough yet. You poke it away with your finger, sitting up and shuffling out of your underwear. There's enough space on the couch that you can flop onto your back, looking at Gojo from between your legs, pussy pretty and glistening with your arousal.

The way he looks at you makes you squeeze down on absolutely nothing. Flustered yet wild like an animal, apprehensive like he's never sucked a clit before.

"Head first, then we fuck."

"Oh?" Gojo starts fighting to get his shirt off his head, scampering forward so fast he nearly falls into your pussy lips. "Easy boy! Down, down..." You mutter, his fingers digging into your thighs and spreading them clumsily. The aforementioned effortless confidence of Gojo seems to break away into something more sincere and somber when he lowers himself down to kiss your clit. The way he chooses to maintain eye contact throughout makes your heart flutter, and you get a bit of slick on his lips on accident.

His tongue darts over it. "Itadakimasu."

"Oh my fucking god..." Your chest almost deflates at how serious he is, nodding like he's bowing before going in with his tongue.

"Mmf..." Your sigh flutters out of you, becoming a full blown moan as his mouth firmly suctions over your clit and little labia, licking firmly and decisively. Like all of a sudden he knows what he's doing. His attention is most often directed towards your clit, suckling on it and making your thighs twitch. You push them against the side of his head but he forces you to spread them wider again, just to fuck a finger or two into you first.

Your pussy makes a little schlick noise, readily accepting him in the hot warmth of your cunt. "That's a good sign.." He meanderingly strokes his chin. "Take dick that well too?" Your head perks up, teasing underlined with irritation.

"Course. Now suck please, I liked you more with a mouth full." You smile shakily and Gojo seems to laugh in kind. Your smile is cut off by a gasp and shudder as Satoru firmly presses his finger into your wall, lifting his mouth to get a better look at your pussy as he's stretching it open. "M'sorry, did I cut you off?"

He licks the remnants of you from his damp lips, two fingers slowly thrusting in and out. All you can do is sigh, one legs flopped off the couch and the other slung over the back of it. He's alright at this. Not as good as him giving head, but it's not terrible either. Maybe you just like seeing him be quiet for more than a second.

His fingers feel like they're looking for something. First he's pushing down, and when you only grunt in response, he starts gently feeling around for that little pocket of sunshine...

"Up." You whimper, aroused but irritated with his finagling. Your hand slides down the front of your stomach, pressing softly on a spot right before your lips start and where your hair would begin to grow. "Around th-there... You got thaat?-" If his grin is anything to go by, he most certainly does. First he presses up into it like it's a button, which makes you squeak and yelp and clutch the couch, bracing for impact. Then he slowly opts you into the pleasure, trying to apply the right kind of pressure to massage a couple moans out of you, your juices coating his hand and dripping to his wrist.

"Oh, oh.." He winks cheekily as you sling your leg over his lap, positioning his cock till it's brushing up against your pretty lips, pre-cum dripping from the head of his cock as your warmth beckons him further. "...save a horse..." He sighs happily as you sink down onto him.

"Hey - don't turn my couch into a slip n' slide now." You groan, clenching down on his fingers like you mean to squeeze the life out of them. "Need - I need more." You snort when he tries to go for a third finger. He clues in quick.

"Dick? I gotchu, don't even worry about that." He tries to slide atop you to complete this jigsaw, but you got a different idea in making these pieces all fit. You push him backwards with your foot a little, getting up off your back in one motion. He backs up to allow you space, clocked in to your movements just a tad.

"Oh my God Satoru." You groan out as the tip of his cock stretches you out, your pussy sucking him up so so greedily, like you'd been waiting all night. "What... don't like my banter babe?" Gojo grunts and your brows furrow, his hand jumping to your hips and steading you when you swoon.

"N-no... Just ... aaaah .." You squeeze his shaft and he actually honest to god chokes on air. "Just - oh fuck - just shut up for a sec. Let me have thissss..." You're halfway down now, Gojo gently coaxing you further and starting to rock his hips.

Pulling up with ease and sliding down further on his fat shaft with effort, Gojo stretches you open so good your legs keep trembling, your breathing hurried even after a couple minutes - and while Gojo seems to be enjoying himself (very, very much so), he's smiling up at you and your effort, very plainly amused. Sweat starting to trickle down your forehead, you're sat wondering what's so funny.

"Yeah yeah yeah. Go on - I'm definitely not stopping you." He sighs deep, his head lolling over the couch as you start lifting yourself up and down, your hand reaching up and going for your nipples. He's too focused on your wet pussy to pay you mind for a bit, but then he's drawn to them, hypnotized. He pulls on your left with his fingers, nibbles on your right with his teeth.

"Oh!" Gojo's blue eyes flick up, wrinkled at the corners. "Mno teef?" He says, still attached to your nipple. The vibration makes you laugh, more of his cock pressing into you as your muscles relax. "Teeth is ... teeth is fine." Gojo resumes his plucking. He lets you use his cock a little like a dildo. In fact, he kind of reminds you of a perfect Ken doll. Smooth muscles you can run your hands over, nice built shoulders, pornstar dick...

"Nuffin..." He mumbles around your areola, going back to sucking and scheming. Whatever. You focus on bouncing on this cock.

...

Opting to do most of the work probably wasn't the best decision. Your legs are championing through, but you're pretty tired, and after figuring out Gojo's dick is big enough to meet your cervix you've been having the time of your life. Sometimes you get too tired to lift yourself, so Gojo is oh-so-very helpful in grinding up into you, smearing his little pre-cum kisses up against your cervix.

"I'll even do all the work." His grin was smarmy, but you didn't clock it at the time. It's cute and still makes your pussy throb, so "Go," you say. "Go off, babe."

You're gonna cum soon. Gojo notices how tight you get when it's about to happen. His take over is a little subtle, but you're so interested in reaching that stiff peak, that tightening in your stomach, just chasing, chasing, chasing,

Gojo thinks, "like a dog." He smirks into your chest. Your cursing abruptly cuts into his thoughts, however -

"Shit! - fuck fuck fuck - ugh!" Every word is punctuated by a last effort of raising and falling, raising and falling, raising, and then being pulled. Gojo tugs your hips down and your pussy spasms as your body jerks.

"Satoru!" You yelp reflexively before something like a whimper weasels itself from your lips. You tighten around Gojo and it hurts a little because he's so thick, but you moan into his shoulder unbothered. A little broken, voice horse, but mostly unbothered. Til he starts moving his hips again.

"The fuck?" You stutter, a little caught off guard as you're suddenly shifted, up and down not from your own movement, but Gojo's rabid humping. "I'm almost there - soo close - can we keep goin', pretty please?" He grinds his hips into your orgasm terribly slowly, trying to get your brain to clock into overtime.

He carefully saws himself in, making your back arch at the sensation. He slides your knees apart and holds the back of them firmly, tugging you the rest of the way onto him. The meandering pace of sex before is tossed to the side.

And regret isn't quite the right word, but you'll feel something a little like it in a second.

"Whatever you say."

Your body is boneless, so it's pretty easy for Gojo to scoop you up, though it doesn't surprise you any less. Says there's not enough space on the couch for him to spread his wings, so he lugs you back to his cozy little room, and plops you onto his bed. Towards the edge of it, so your legs dangle off as he positions himself in front of you, holding his cock at the base - which now looks angrier than before. Instead of the blushy pink dusting it at the tip, it's a deeper, aggravated red now - slapping against your cunt like this motherfucker has places to be. "Open uppp~"

You were fucking Gojo before. Now he's fucking you. Any apprehension, slow-to-start bashfulness, gone with the wind. Once the head pushes past your entrance, a good five inches of cock go alongside it immediately after. Gojo's hiking your legs onto his shoulder's as he watches your eyes suddenly blow wider than saucers, laughing genuinely at the break in your nonchalance and worn facade.

"I should have answered you properly earlier." He says, brushing a stand of sweat slicked hair away from your forehead. He leans down so close, lips a little touch and go, the intention in his eye serious and cutting. With the movement, the last couple inches of cock fill you out, making you eep! But not breaking his focus in the slightest. "I want to fuck." He drags his hips molasses like, till the head is back at your entrance. He slides it back in smoothly, earnest chuckle overshadowed by your pitchy whimper.

"But I assume you got the memo - so," The sound of skin slapping against skin resumes, his pace almost breakneck. His balls slap against your ass with such ferocity it makes you yelp the first time, whimper the second, moan the third. Gojo seems more serious now, the balls in his court and the way you squeal and reach out for anything to hold only spurs him on further.

And are promptly cut off by a vigorous pounding, the sounds of your own moans, and an downright visceral embarrassment when you realize this is the second time you're cumming and in spite of all your fucking and sucking, Satoru hasn't even came once. And as if hearing your thoughts, Gojo's playful expression closes in - his brow furrows as each roll of his hips gets more decisive.

"Pussy tryna close up shop?" He mutters near your ear when you clench on him a little too tight. "You tryna break my dick or something? I know it's good, but you can't keep it -" You don't know if your sigh is from pleasure or exasperation.

"Gojo, please." He tweaks your nipple and makes you squirm.

"Ohhhh, I see how it issss. It's Gojo now?" With every drag of his words he slows down dramatically, dragging his cock along your walls so painstakingly sensual it makes you want to scream. "What happened to Satoru?"

You start placatingly. "Satoru, I-"

After a moment, his hand comes over yours, your fingers weakly folding over his. His pumps grow harder, but slow down, his eyes clamped shut as he looks up, and -

"I'll try to make this one a two-fer." He speaks with that same smile in his voice, and you're two far gone to offer a groan or snap in response. "Y-yeah. Cum, Satoru - I wanna, I wanna cum," His eyes dart up to yours, and it's a little hard to hold his stare, but you manage.

"Yes yes pretty baby. You'll - we'll cum. Soon... real s-soon."

Your muscles feel tired, used from your last orgasm and forced to prolong operation just to take more dick. It's harder to take the full length of his shaft, your tummy flipping and your mind beyond fuzzy and fucked out. But you hold out. Just a little bit ... longer.

His thrusts start getting sloppy. The bruising piston of his hips edge off their intensity, and -

You're cumming again. Your legs are shaking and your ass feels a little numb and you're clenching so so so hard, for dear fucking life-

"Fucking hell!" Gojo bites his tongue, and pumps into you for the last time.

"Good." You gasp. "That was good." Satoru runs a thumb over your clit, teasing.

He heaves sighs like he's moved mountains, but really he's just offloading hot cum from his throbbing nuts, pressed into you very closely before going entirely still. You thought you were full before? Now you're kind of... bursting. Is that the right word? Feels that way. Gojo does a full body shudder and stretches his back out, trying to fuck his load you before he's even came it all out.

There's so much that it spurts around the sides of his dick and you can feel some of it slip out, run down your thighs, and you quiver one last time before feeling strength leave your body. Satisfaction blankets over you, a nice, full-bodied comfort. When Gojo slides out, he spurts a little cum on your tummy, the rest of it oozing out of you slow.

"Haha," His voice is a little raspy, like yours now. He arches a brow before he bends down, planting a loving kiss on your lips.

"Just good?"

[highvern]

Work Me Out

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: working out, flirting, touching, almost car sex, making out, breast play, fingering, oral, face sitting, multiple sex positions, big dick mingyu, protected sex (gasp!), strength kink, dirty talk, choking, spanking :) lover boy gyu as always. let me know if i missed anything!

Length: ~5k

Note: y'all thought cheol rot was bad but the OG bias wrecker is back. dont come at me for gym terminology i go by vibes. replaced my gym crush with mingyu and this is what happened <3 i have a bonus/pt 2 in the drafts too but I'll wait to post it bc too much muscle pig mingyu is bad for the soul... and the [redacted]

to the anon that sent me a seok ask forever ago about his arms, im sorry i used it in this fic. but know i have a seok fic with exactly what you asked for in the works rn. everyone say thank you anon.

@bbychocolat do not hit my line about mingyu for at least 24 business hours i need to recover

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read part II

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Figuring out the ins and outs of a new gym isn’t easy but it isn’t impossible. Go too early and you’re surrounded by creepy men old enough to be your grandfather. Right after work is a sure way to experience hoards of gym bros crowding around machines like they own them. 

So you go as late as possible. 

Only a handful of people are dispersed through the large space. A few run on the treadmills lined on the catwalk of the second floor, several switch through different weights in front of the mirrors. You make your way through the maze of equipment towards the leg press; your final sets before you can go home and wash away the grime of the day.

Or you would if someone wasn’t occupying the one machine you need.

Peeping your head around, you notice a black backpack and matching water bottle on the ground. You glance around, unable to find a clear owner since the next closest person is halfway across the gym doing a different exercise.

Would it be that rude to take the machine out from under someone if they’re not even using it? You could probably get in all your sets before the person even came back if you moved quickly.

You wait a few minutes. How embarrassing would it be to have the mystery person walk back up the second you sat down? But after five minutes pass and no one emerges to claim the spot, you set about changing the weights out.

And just when you slip into the seat, you look up and find someone approaching.

He’s tall, he’s handsome, and he’s barely ten feet away. Your saving grace is that he hasn’t spotted you yet thanks to his phone. 

But that doesn’t last long.

“Oh! Sorry! Were you using this machine?” You ask, trying to sound cordial. 

“It’s okay!” He smiles at you. “Do you need it?”

Yes.

“No, I can find something else to do.” 

You rise to do just that when he stops you with a shrug.

“I don’t mind sharing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I take long breaks between my sets anyway so it’s no big deal.”

So that’s where he went.

“Okay, thanks.”

“No problem.”

He moves to lean against the wall, face buried in his phone once again as you work through your set. Honestly you think he forgot you were even there until you start standing up and he pushes off his perch. 

Exchanging polite smiles, you skirt around him and snag your water bottle before occupying the same spot against the painted bricks. You try not to be a creep but watching the way the muscles in his legs bulge and coil with each rep is impossible to look away from. Especially when there’s just so much to look at.

He racks up twelve reps with ease and switches back off with you before wandering out of sight.

You work through two of your sets before he comes teetering back. 

“I tried putting it back to your weight.” You laugh, sipping from your water bottle.

“Three forty? Ouch.”

“What? Should I have made it lighter?”

“Try heavier. Like four hundred.”

“My sincerest apologies.” You mock, placing your hand over your heart. “I’ll remember that next time.”

He laughs again before slipping back into the seat and working through the motions.

This time you don’t bother hiding the way you watch him over your phone. He looks good, it’d be a waste not to watch the swell of his chest or the stretch of his thighs. The gym shorts and snug black t-shirt only exacerbate how cut his physique is. 

And if he makes a comment you can always twist your not so subtle gawking into a compliment about his form.

When he finishes his set again, he snags his bag and water bottle off the ground before turning to you. “All yours. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

And he’s gone.

Over the next few weeks, you learn mystery man works out at the same time you. He’s there when you arrive and remains when you leave after an hour and a half of sweating and gasping like a dying fish, only absent on Wednesdays when you manage the most last luster workouts of your life. The disappointment the first time you realized you were looking for the backwards cap sticking out amongst the free weights would have been embarrassing but what's wrong with a little eye candy while breaking a sweat? 

And what a great view he makes. Your brief peeks into the mirrored walls are full of nothing straining muscles and glowing skin. The first day he did arms in a cutoff tee will go down in history as the worst day of your life. Only rivaled by all the other days he works his legs in shorts accentuating just how nice his ass is with every squat.

Your friends all ask when you’re going to talk to him again. As if you’ll just walk right up and interrupt the best part of your day. No, you’d rather watch him move across the gym floor from the corner of your eye, throw him a friendly nod, and go about your business than run the risk of making things awkward.

Unfortunately, doesn’t possess the same desire to remain a friendly nameless face like you do.

His name is Mingyu. Or that’s what the employee with glasses calls him while they joke around one night. You don’t mean to eavesdrop but they’re loud and the only exit takes you right past the U-shaped desk. Mingyu throws a grin as you pass by on your way out and the flash of teeth spikes your heart rate higher than any exercise you’ve done that night.

When he officially introduces himself at the water fountain the next night, you have to bite the urge to tell him ‘I know.’ Instead you snort at his extended hand, providing your own name over the firm shake like you won’t be haunted by the feeling of the calluses on his fingers or the heat of his palm for the next week. 

What’s worse is how he says your name back, rolling the sound across his tongue and past his quirked lips. 

And the final nail in the coffin is when you leave and you see the way he turns in the glass doors to watch, bidding you a goodnight with your name signed at the end.

Mingyu might be the worst gym crush in the world. Mostly because your thoughts of him extend beyond the brick walls he should only exist in. And partially because he’s caught you staring more times than you care to admit. 

Not as many times as you’ve caught him, but the point stands.

No, the worst part, you find out, is Mingyu is an incorrigible flirt. And he knows it.

Tonight you’re off schedule, runny nearly half an hour later than usual.; work clothes sticking to your skin as you make your way towards the off shooting hall housing the entrance to the locker rooms. In a rush, you step around another body only to end up in front of one much more familiar.

“There's my girl.” Mingyu smiles. “Thought you were skipping out on me.”

My girl. My girl. My girl, my girl, my girl….

There isn’t a thought in your head beyond the bold casualness he drops that bomb on you with so you nod awkwardly and force yourself not to sprint the next twenty feet to hide.

Half an hour later, when you catch him watching you in the mirror over his own weights, the bastard smiles like the cat who caught the canary. 

But you end up on top when Mingyu offers to spot you while doing weighted squats. He’s at your back, an appropriate amount of space between your bodies you wish he’d close. You don’t need his help. Your form is better than his (you would know, his ass and thighs give you tunnel vision when its his leg day). And the weight on the bar isn’t even enough to make you strain but why pass up on the offer? Especially with how Mingyu meets your eyes over your shoulder in the mirror with each dip.

And then he cheers ‘that’s my girl’ again when you re-rack the equipment with ease and it's over.

“Shit,” you grunt. 

Mingyu pops up from his perch between your breasts under your shirt, hair a mess and eyes glazed. “Good?”

“No, your steering wheel is in my back.” You wince, attempting to wiggle away and ending up further up his lap.

“Sorry, let me just…”

The seat flies back under your combined weight, throwing your forehead right into Mingyu’s chin.

“Fuck!” 

“Oh my god!” You gasp. “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s head falls back as he releases a massive sigh. Each second that ticks by has you both coming to the same conclusion.

“Yeah,” you breath, sitting up. “I think this was a bad idea.”

“Oh…”

“I just mean like your car is small and you’re too big and I—“

The guffaw Mingyu tries to hide slips free too easily. “That’s what she said.”

“God, you’re gross.” 

Your nose crinkles as you rise up, using his chest for leverage. It feels as nice as it looks and its the worst knowledge you’ve gained in you life.

“Sticks and stones,” he hums.

“Well this was fun. I’ll ugh… see you around?”

When you try to shift back into the passenger seat to exit, Mingyu’s hands flex over your thighs to keep you in his lap. His sweats do nothing to hide his semi. Something he doesn’t even seem to consider as a concern given the way he unconsciously curls into you.

“Or we can go back to mine.”

He’s trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Like he won’t go home and fuck his fist in the shower with the echoes of your sighs filling his ears if you turn him down. You can see it in his eyes. What hinges on his offer and how much you’ll both regret it if the tension fizzles and dies in his SUV.

From where you’re sitting, it’s incredibly difficult to think with your head and not your hormones. Mingyu is hot, he’s nice, he seems decent enough. His behavior doesn’t hint at him being a creep. If he’s normal enough to fuck in his car, is he not normal enough to fuck in the comfort of a bed?

The thumb stroking your thighs and the hopeful eyes staring you down make the decision for you.

“Yeah, okay.” 

With his address in your phone’s GPS, you trail after his SUV in your own car. The roads are familiar because they’re the same roads you drive when you return to your apartment that turns out to be only three blocks closer to the gym than Mingyu’s. 

All this time he’d been so close and you never even realized. Did he think about you the same way you thought about him when he drove home? If he did, you’re in for a night.

Rolling into a space only a few down from where he parks, you pause to hype yourself up. 

People have sex all the time. It’s no big deal. I can do this. 

A knock at the window interrupts your spiral, finding Mingyu smiling sheepishly through the glass. The muscles in your chest squeeze when he opens the door and holds it for you to exit; and threaten to explode when his hand finds the small of your back and guides you towards the stairwell.

Footsteps echo down to the hall, Mingyu only a fraction ahead to lead the way to a non-descript door with a seasonal doormat that's seen better days.

“Ugh, this is it.” 

His apartment is shockingly clean for a guy your age. Not clean in the ‘I don’t own enough shit to even be dirty’ way. No, Mingyu’s apartment is cozy. There’s throw pillows and blankets on the couch. He has a lamp and bookshelf in the corner and the walls are adorned with a collage of artwork thoughtfully pieced together. Several personal photos are littered throughout, some with an obviously younger Mingyu propped next to what must be a sister or a cousin, a few of him with friends. One of him and a familiar man with glasses, their faces blurry but the glee clear as they’re frozen in time. Your lips lift with a soft smile at the personal touches bleeding into every corner of his space.

Turning over your shoulder you ask, “You and the guy at the gym are friends?” 

Mingyu’s watching you with something unidentifiable in his eyes, stepping forward to figure out which frame you're looking at until he’s only a foot behind you.

“Yeah, we went to the same middle school.”

“And this one?” You say, fingers tracing the edge of the wooden frame.

“My little sister.” Mingyu follows, still only a step behind.

“And I’m assuming these are your parents?”

“Actually those are Wonwoo’s parents.” He chuckles. “These are my parents.”

Mingyu’s arm reaches around to point at the correct photo, his chest brushing against your back.

“Wanna give me the tour?”

Mingyu manages to show you everything in five minutes. The living room and connected kitchen you’re already standing in, the door of the hall bathroom, and finally his bedroom. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, discovering the new smattering of details that uncover more about the man waiting with baited breath in the threshold. 

“Why are you over there?” You ask.

With arms crossed and shoulders up to his ears, Mingyu resembles a kid waiting to be scolded rather than a man who tried to hook up with you in his car less than thirty minutes ago.

“I’m nervous.”

You can’t stop the satisfaction from spreading to your face. “I make you nervous?”

Mingyu pushes off the door jam, shuffling forward until he’s standing a foot in front of you. “Yeah. I don’t really do stuff like this.”

“Stuff like what? Try and fuck girls in your car?”

“Haha.” Mingyu mocks, face descending until he rubs his nose with yours.

Your eyes slip closed when his do, breathing each other's air. “Stuff like what, Gyu?”

Your hands find the material of his shirt stretched across his shoulder. Each brush of his lips across your cheek, down your jaw, until he finds your ear.

“I don’t sleep around with girls I’m not dating.”

Oh.

“We don’t hav—”

“Which is not the best way to ask you out.”

You press him out of your space, far enough that you can look him in the eyes and see if he’s serious. The tips of Mingyu’s ears burn red but he’s looking right at you despite how embarrassed he clearly feels.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Ugh, yeah. I think it’d be fun. But you don’t have to! If you just wanna do this that's fine t—”

Whatever words Mingyu was trying to say fizzle on the tip of his tongue as you pull him into a kiss. He curls over you, pressing you further into his bed with every fervent pass. Wedging one hand under the small of your back, Mingyu lifts you up and carries you while he crawls to the center.

Your mind wanders to all the other ways he can manhandle you into the mattress.

He settles flat against you, hips cradled between your own while delving into your mouth. You fill your hands with his ass, dragging Mingyu’s covered cock against your core. A groan backs apart your lips as Mingyu falls into the curve of your neck. 

“This is a yes to the date by the way.” You pant now that he’s taken over, hands scratching up his back in an effort to get rid of his shirt. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Mingyu’s clothes disappear over his head and across the room, yours following shortly after. The heat of bare skin on bare skin is better than anything until he takes one of your breasts in his palm and the other in his mouth. 

Every curse you know flies through your lips as he sucks and pinches until you're sore between the legs.

He takes the squeeze of your thighs and the rock of your hips as a greenlight, hands leading where his lips follow until it’s nothing but your panty clad core an inch from his face.

“This okay?” Mingyu asks in the fat of your thigh, tongue trailing fire across the skin.

You nod with a sigh, “Mingyu, please.”

He doesn’t need much more than that, the fabric barrier gone in a blink and his nose traces your folds until he’s dying for a taste.

Mingyu eats pussy like he doesn’t need oxygen. The path of his pointed tongue around your clit is nothing short of precise, meticulously tracing every ridge and curve until the sheets stretch under your fingers. When he flattens it to pay broader attention, your legs squeeze and Mingyu’s hands force them wide around his shoulders.

Your feet flatten on the bed and thrust up his mouth, wet and crude with fingers in his hair and your whines in his ears. Every suck of Mingyu’s mouth forces the muscles in your neck to lerch until they hurt and your head falls back. He takes pride in the way you drip for him, making the best mess he’s ever had the privilege to clean up.

You reward him with an lavishing praise at the next twitch of your insides, “Fuck, just like that.” 

Taking advantage of the slight arch in your spine, Mingyu’s hand sneaks under your back, fingers unforgiving as they dig into your ass. He curls your hips up and buries a finger in your core with mortifying ease.

Between your legs, Mingyu catches your eyes. Pupils blown wide, mouths bruised around stuttered breath. A matching set of debauched expressions. He’s more familiar like this; skin glowing with sweat, and hair matted to his forehead. Next time you see him at the gym you know it's all you’ll think about. Next time you're alone in your room, or the shower, or the grocery store. Or anywhere you’ve day dreamed about him before.

He leans back to watch the digit disappear, only to reappear soaking. “Feels good?”

“Give me another and it will.”

You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you for what you felt under his shorts. His tongue is hard and wet at your clit, fingers stretching and spreading until your stomach dips and you nearly buck him off as your clit swells from abuse.  

Your fingers pluck at your nipples and Mingyu apparently likes to watch because he manages more enthusiasm, forces his finger to crook just the right way, and continues to suck even after you start screaming.

“Oh fuck, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant, voice cracked.

Something sounding suspiciously like a ‘thank you’ drops into the mix but Mingyu’s the only one to hear it. In his opinion, he should be the one doing the thanking; you just gave him enough spank bank material for the next six months.

You don’t dislike the taste of yourself on his tongue, his lips, his chin, his cheeks, and even his chest when you flip Mingyu over and aim to return the favor. He blushes when you lap against the hollow of his throat; embarrassed from the way he goes boneless with such simple affection.

He sinks into the plush of the mattress, propped up by the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Mingyu’s stomach stiffens under your tongue and the twitch blooms a smile on your face. Predictable.

“Sensitive?”

Your nails raking up the shape of his thighs turn the denial falling from his lips into a whine, and it makes you wonder what other sounds Mingyu will make with his cock in your mouth.

The vein bulging along the underside of his length gives your tongue something to trace along as you lap from base to flared tip, sucking down until it shines from spit and pre-cum. You take all you can until the curve of your throat protests.

Mingyu’s big and he’s loud.

“Oh God, shit.” He babbles with abandon, hands fisted at his sides until his knuckles turn pale.

You focus on the cock in your mouth rather than how pretty Mingyu’s chest would look covered in bite marks. How a bruise on his hip would be just visible when he reaches over his head to do pull ups, and red streaks from your nails on his bicep would make a great accessory.

A hand lands on the base of your skull, gentle until it's not. His thumb dips to stroke the bulge of his dick through your throat as you take him deeper. And like some ridiculous porno theres still an inch you’ll never be able to take even if you do nothing but let him fucking your mouth until the only thing you taste is cum.

“Fuuuuck,” Mingyu groans from a harsh suck on the upstroke.

He distracts you with his tongue on yours, keeping you from diving back down and destroying his ego from how quick you almost made him cum. Your one solace is the lazy grip you have on the base of Mingyu’s length, fingers tightening around the head while he cants into the squeeze.

You think Mingyu is going to plant you on his cock and make you ride it until one of you is crying. But he keeps pushing and pulling until you’re kneeling over his face, knees cushioned in the pillows and hands against the wall to steady you while he dives in again.

His head shakes back and forth, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit as you grind into his face. The last grip of sanity you have gives you the mind to reach back, jerking Mingyu off while he eats it, a cycle of moans moving through you; him into your folds when you squeeze from a grating pass off his tongue that has you whining to the ceiling fan.

“Shit, need you to fuck me.” You whine but don’t stop curling against the latch of his lips, legs stiff with ache.

It’s Mingyu who brings things to a halt, raising you away from his mouth until you're left on your knees while he stands to rummage in the drawer for a condom. You listen while the paint of the wall cools your forehead.

The hand at the dip of your spine makes you melt when he checks in, “Still okay?”

Nodding, you find him over your shoulder with a thick swallow. Mingyu’s nose follows the slope of your muscles, lips untying all the knots he’s worked into them over the past few weeks.

“Want it like this?”

“Yeah.”

You drop until your chest meets the bed and arch until it hurts just to put on a good show. Mingyu shuffles behind you, knocking your knees wider with his own, palms molding to your ass and spreading it apart to take a good look like he wasn’t tongue deep inside your pussy already. The room is nothing more than the sounds of grounding breaths; Mingyu watching the way your torso moves around the air, releasing a long exhale before moving closer.

The feel of his chest against yours was great, but the hard muscle of it along your back, his chain caught between and leaving a definitive mark, is life ruining. It shreds the last bit of humanity you’ve been clinging to since you dragged Mingyu to the parking lot and tried to stick your hands down his pants while leant against the passenger door.

No matter how well Mingyu stretched you for his cock it was never going to be enough. Taking the first inch nearly splits you in half. But you're soaked and needy; nothing short of the end of the world is going to keep you from getting the satisfaction of feeling him in your guts. You take it with measured breaths and affirmations to relax. Slow arches of his hips work him in until he’s flat with your ass and whispering absolute depravity into your ears.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

Arching your ass higher, you whimper, “You’re huge.”

Your ass stings under his punishing hand, thrown forward by an involuntary buck of his hips.

“Don’t say that.”

You turn until you can look over your shoulder again, meeting wild eyes. “You feels so good.” You moan, eyelids low and wrecked.

“Didn’t—shit, think you’d have such a dirty mouth.” He bites into the side of your neck, sucking a bruise like a depraved teenager. 

“I knew you’d have a fat cock.”

You get what you want so easily it's almost insulting; Mingyu’s hand forcing your face into the sheets and his hips rushing into you with pure need. Every prod into your cunt has you wailing. It’d destroy your self respect if you could think of anything beyond how he’s ruining you for anyone else.

Pillows topple off the edge of the bed as you scramble for a hold. Anything to ground you against the burn in your veins with every tight squeeze around Mingyu’s cock. His balls slap against your clit teasingly, more degrading than the way he has you bent in half. 

“Harder,” you beg.

Mingyu falls back on his haunches, pulling you with him until you're sitting up right. His arm comes into view, curling around neck until your throat sits in the crux of his elbow and his hand latches on your shoulder; a crude headlock he uses as leverage to keep fucking into you. You’ve been choked but this is infinitely better. Whatever Mingyu wants to take from you, he’s in a position to do so.

“Gonna cum?” He nips into your earlobe.

His hand shoves its way between your legs, swipe roughly against your clit before you can even hope to answer.

A pathetic nod is all you manage thanks to the muscles gathered under your chin limiting your mobility.

Mingyu let's go then and your hands prevent a crash into the headboard, putting you back in the same position as before but you have to work for it now; ass bouncing in his laps as you ride him. Finding your balance, you drop one hand to your clit as Mingyu’s pinch your nipples.

“Let me have it, let me make you come." Mingyu pants into your spine. "Fuck you look so good like this, shit.”

He keeps rambling, flying with you towards the edge hand in hand; both breathless from the slap of your thighs against his.

“Mingyu, feel so good. Oh my god, oh my g—”

The softness of the pillows greets you once again while everything flashes white. Mingyu scrambles behind, fucking you into the mattress while you soak his cock. Muscles twitching, teeth ground till they crack, you come and come and come while begging him to do the same.

Mingyu gives in without hesitation, all his weight behind his hips as he fills the condom; dragging you back with an arm around your waist. Every jerk of his cock against your walls from the force makes you vibrate until he’s slipping out, soiled and used against the back of your thigh.

The last thing you register is his lips finding your shoulder again, rubbing back and forth as he comes down.

You fall asleep under the heat of his body for who knows how long, content in the mind shattering numbness of what just happened. Mingyu seems to feel the same, dead weight hanging half off you so you can at least manage to breath.

When you wake, whether it's twenty minutes or two hours later, Mingyu is snoring into the pillow, still naked. His lips pout in his sleep and you swallow the urge to shower them with kisses thanks to the drool at the corner of his mouth.

Even without the covers, you're warm. The kind of heat that slips over your skin, sinks into your bones and keens for you to fall asleep and stay. But Mingyu asked you on a date, not to spend the night. And you’d hate to assume and ruin whatever this is before it as a chance to start.

“Where are you going?” He pouts.

You don't make it two inches out of his arms before he’s pulling you back, tangling them around you so there's no chance of unnoticed escape. Mingyu digs his nose into your cheek and waits for an answer like he has all the time in the world.

Something tells you if he knew you were attempting to head home, Mingyu would throw a fit. And what use is that when you want to see what a night sleep with a giant human furnace is like?

“Bathroom.”

Adding to the list of information you’ve learned, Mingyu is a stage five clinger. He latches on to your back, guiding you into the shower stall for a quick spray down that leaves half your face, part of your thigh, and almost none of him clean.

He falls asleep against the base of your skull while brushing your teeth, because of course he has a stash of extra toothbrushes under the sink just in case. 

And when you crawl under the fresh sheets, he pulls you into his chest, leaves a kiss against your forehead, and tells you he can’t wait for your breakfast date tomorrow.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[brairslair]

op monster trio x fem!reader nsfw headcanons

EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors need to scram)

a/n: remember, these are hc’s and just my opinion!

don’t forget to like, reblog, and comment to support my work! mwah &lt;3

“just enjoy this”

luffy:

very talkative and vocal during sex

always just says whats on his mind

“wow, you’re so wet for me already”

“you look so pretty when your face scrunches up like that”

“that feels good. go faster”

not shy at all about moaning and can get really loud sometimes

like there will definitely be noise complaints

kinda a pleasure dom, but can also get really needy sometimes

wants to make sure you feel just as good as he does

“does that feel good?”

“how’s this?”

“you like it when i do that?”

loves bringing food into the bedroom (obviously)

aphrodisiacs? yes

licking whipped cream, hot fudge, caramel, etc, off your body? yuh huh

and his stamina is HIGH

he also gets really excited about trying new things, and will try pretty much anything once if it’s something you’re into

one of his favorites is mirror sex

spreading you out on his fingers or his dick and making sure you watch yourself

he just wants you to see the beautiful view that he gets to see

plus then he gets double of you, and more you is always good

loves when you get vocal, so if you’re on the shyer side he will definitely work overtime so he gets to hear you

will make it a game to see how loud he can get you

he also speaks portuguese bc it makes sense and also i said so !!!!

sometimes his language setting accidentally switches to portuguese when he’s fucked out

“vou meter em você ate você gritar meu nome”

goes crazy when you say his name

even crazier when you get so cockdrunk that you start babbling nonsense

honestly he can’t help but laugh

like full on belly laughing like a maniac while he’s breaking your brain

but he just thinks you’re the cutest and he can’t contain himself

sometimes he’ll have a conversation with you while you’re in that state, acting like he can understand anything you’re saying

“feels good huh?”

you’ll whine out something indecipherable in response

“yeah i know!”

he’s always happy if you tell him what you want and how you’re feeling

because he just loves you so much and he wants you to enjoy it too

because he thinks you deserve the world

can also get pretty dominant/demanding sometimes without even realizing it, just because he’s so blunt

he’s just a man who knows what he wants and goes for it

if he’s especially needy, he gets a little more rough with you

holding your hair as he fucks your mouth, because your eyes look so pretty when you look up at him like that

or fucking you hard and fast to chase his own release, leaving bruises on your hips from how tightly he’s gripping them

even then, he’ll always do frequent check ins to make sure you’re still enjoying it

messy kisser

loves kissing and licking and nibbling all over your body

definitely leaves marks

he’s also not shy about PDA, (mostly because he does not understand the social construct of what is and is not appropriate to do in public), so he loves when he gets to see his love marks on you the next day

thinks u look rly pretty with his love all on you

he’s really good with his mouth

could eat you out for hours, and wont stop until your whole body is shaking

big fan of face sitting

definitely more of a tits guy

always smiling into your kisses, wether he’s sweetly kissing your lips, leaving a trail down your body, or teasing your clit

loves to make you squirm, so edging you is definitely fun for him

he likes seeing you be all needy for him, especially since he’s usually the needier one (can you blame him)

definitely also challenges himself to see how many times he can make you cum in one day, and keeps track of his records

really enjoys using his devil fruit powers on you too, and laughs in excitement when it makes your eyes roll back

always gets you both water and plenty of snacks afterwards, falling into a comfortable conversation or putting on your favorite movie

zoro:

you’re the only person he feels comfortable enough to be this vulnerable with, and he trusts you with his life

you are always his number one priority, no matter what, and that naturally carries over into your sex life

he’s extremely attentive to you, in and out of the bedroom

knows your body better than he knows his own

always knows exactly what you need and just how to make your eyes roll back

he’s a “just relax and let me take care of you” kind of guy, and all he cares about is making you feel good

after all, you always make him feel good, even without doing a single thing

but of course he soaks in anything and everything you graciously give him

he quietly feels undeserving of your love, so he’s really big on being praised

your sweet words only spur him on to make you cum even harder

usually more of a soft dom

but if you ask nicely, sometimes he’ll let you take care of him when you know he needs to just relax

he’s gentle with his strength and careful not to hurt you

likes to fuck you hard but slow, wanting it to last as long as possible

he lives to hear your pretty noises of overstimulation as he makes sure to hit the right spots with every agonizing thrust

your legs held over his shoulders so you can feel every inch of him

doesn’t pick up his pace, even when you’re trembling and trying to move your hips against his

“i’ve got you. just enjoy this”

not super talkative, but definitely gets more vocal the more comfortable he gets being intimate with you

lots of grunts and groans against your neck

sometimes an occasional moan or curse will slip out

when he does talk, it’s soft and low, whispered for only your ears to hear

his voice gets a little deeper when he’s like this, and it grounds you and shakes you to your core somehow at the same time

he loves kissing you, and pouring every feeling he can’t put into words onto your lips

rly likes watching your face to see every pretty little expression you make

likes seeing how good he’s making you feel

also really big on eye contact

wether he’s fingering you, eating you out, fucking you, you’re giving him head, whatever, he wants to look into your eyes and watch them as they get all glassy

“hey, look at me. keep your eyes open”

a little bit into dacryphilia , because it feels so intimate to him

making you feel so overwhelmed with pleasure that it brings you to tears, then kissing all your tears away as you fall apart for him

he’s also really good with his fingers because of how much dexterity he’s built up in his hands from all those years of swordsmanship training

the reason he also has insane stamina ^

if you get bratty with him he’ll get bratty back (he’s a part of the sassy man apocalypse)

sometimes if you’re being particularly bratty, or when he gets cocky after a really good training session, he can get a little more riled up into being more talkative and commanding

but he still never loses that softness, because to him you’re angel on earth, and his love and adoration for you is overflowing

“if you’re that needy, just ask for it. don’t need to make a fuss”

“that’s it, keep going”

“go ahead, you can let go for me”

“tell me what you want me to do and i’ll do it, but you have to use your words”

if he’s feeling really confident, he might pin you against his surface of choice while he ruts into you, licking into your mouth to savor your taste

^ he feels guilty at first for being rough with you, but any fears of him being selfish fly out the window when he hears you moan his name all desperate and hoarse and fucked out

“you like it when im rough like this, huh?”

“what was that, honey? you gotta speak up”

“i know you’ve got one more in you, baby, don’t hold out on me”

no matter what, he always makes sure you cum at least twice before he does

he’s not super into pda, but he secretly loves when you leave marks on him

especially when you scratch up his back or his chest

they feel like battle scars and make him feel all proud and shit

he’ll “discreetly” show them off walking around topless, but he’ll still glare at anyone if they make a comment about it

he also joins the pda train anytime he sees you talking to another man that isn’t a part of the crew

or any time he’s drunk off his ass ^^

thigh/ass guy

he loves feeling your body shutter and twitch from his touch

he doesn’t smile too often, but you sometimes get lucky enough to see it

he’ll hold your jaw up and smile lazily into your sweet kisses while he fucks you deep with his fingers

constantly longs to show his devotion to you, and takes his time to make sure you feel it

lots of sleepy and lazy sex

also shower/bath sex

he lives to hear your sweet sounds

he will not stand for it if you try to hide your pretty little noises from him

“c’mon, don’t do that. let me hear you”

“don’t get all shy on me now”

“there’s my girl”

he’ll always put a pillow under your hips

he likes to wrap his arms around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible

he also just finds it really hot when you arch your back

he’ll fuck you so good that you genuinely cannot stand after he’s finished with you

then he’ll run you both a warm bath, hold you to his chest, and wash off your body and your hair as you both relax into the comfortable silence

sanji:

worships the ground you walk on (seriously considered starting a religion)

loves to be romantic and set the mood

cooking you both a nice intimate dinner, lighting candles, peppering rose petals, giving you massages, etc etc

but once you guys actually start getting intimate, he cannot WAIT to get his hands on you

but he still respects you and treats you like a fucking queen, because to him you are

not an exaggeration by any means either, he will build you a throne

he asks permission before kissing you

won’t touch you unless you give him permissiom

will do or say genuinely anything you ask him to, no questions asked

but will also pathetically rut his hips against your clothed cunt while you make out and cum in his pants if you allow it

he can get rock hard just at the sight of you

not even in a pervy way, it’s just that you’re sooo sexy and everything you do is like his siren song

definitely a sub

loves receiving, and feels blessed with every ounce of pleasure you grant him

but making you feel good gives him just as much pleasure, because he worships you after all

knowing he’s the one making you feel good really gets him going

he’ll worship your body for HOURS with no expectations to receive anything in return

he can get off untouched just by knowing he’s making you feel good

loves eating you out, and is extremely talkative

more than willing to be on his knees for you at any time

loves praising you (of course) and is always eager to encourage you

“you’re the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen”

“you taste so sweet, mon amour”

“want you to cum so badly, sweetheart”

“please let me help you come undone my love”

he loves when you praise him too

however, he also goes crazy when you get a little mean

likes it when you use him for your own pleasure after a restless night or a frustrating mission

or when you edge him for hours as punishment for making a flirtatious comment towards another woman (atp he only does it to get this result)

he is also not beneath begging !

sucker for romance during sex too

loves holding your hand while he makes you see stars or while you let him use your mouth

kissing all over you while you both fall apart

babbling and whining against your lips about how much he loves you

loves when you mark him up, and will proudly show them off

practically gets heart eyes every time he looks at you, but his eyes are BULGING when he sees your perfect tits

loves sucking on them while you ride him

very cheesy and dramatic lines and pet names, but they all come straight from his heart and he means every single word

really likes it when you pull his hair

definitely whimpers and whines and moans your name like a prayer

says “thank you” when you let him cum because he’s so polite

probably has a breeding kink

definitely has low stamina at the beginning of your relationship and doesn’t last very long, but builds it up over time

still makes sure you’re more than fully satisfied even if he’s already finished

would let you tie him up, blindfold him, gag him, whatever you want, and he would enjoy the fuck out of every second

he would still complain and whine about not being able to touch/see/praise you a bit though

super passionate kisser

also always extremely sensitive, because it’s you

lots of cuddles and kisses and sweet words after the two of you are done until you fall asleep with your limbs tangled

asks are open!

[hoshigray]

⋆♱ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 ✮ 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢-𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 ♱⋆ | a JJK series

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: hi hello!! so like, yeah, this is late bc I didn't plan on doing any kinktober stuff since i got shit irl to do. BUT, after some thought and some creative bursts of energy, I figured "ehh why not." So, I'm not setting the dates as life can be unpredictable, but here are the things I'm doing/have done for the month!! Think of this more like a book list than a prompt list tbh

reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⋆♱✮♱⋆ transparent edit made by me + header art by yuto sano + fic dividers by the amazing @cafekitsune!!

𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑻𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌, 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎...

All the material below contains 18+ content, so minors do not interact.

☠︎ = ficlet/scenario | ♱ = fics

☠︎ 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 (true form! Sukuna x fem/afab! reader)

☠︎ 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 (dom! Nanami x fem/afab! reader)

♱ 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇[𝐞𝐫]!! (serial killers! Toji + Sukuna x fem! reader)

Next time, look around the area before you say you find a serial killer attractive. Because you’re about to see what mess your words will have you end up in — and your clothes all torn up.

☠︎ 𝐓𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐞, 𝐔𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 (rigger! geto x fem! reader!)

♱ 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 (vampire bf! Choso x fem! reader)

Finding out your boyfriend's a vampire was far from the chill evening you planned with him. But you can't lie, imagining those fangs sinking down on and sucking on your skin....it's kinda hot.

♱ 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 (ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader)

Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?

☠︎ 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 (Toji x fem! reader)

♱ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (Carrie inspired! Gojo x fem/afab! reader)

Taking a loner like you to the prom was, at first, an easy bet for the most popular kid in school. What he didn't expect, however, is to fall madly in love with you — and how that love brings hell on supposedly the best night of senior year...

This is all the stuff for this month. Thanks for stopping by!

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝑱𝒐𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉'𝒔 𝑳𝒂𝒊𝒓?

Would you wish to be tagged? Please lmk in the replies or in my inbox!

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 ⋆♱✮♱⋆ These tales have been transcribed and written by the original poster (me). Do not steal, edit, copy/plagiarize, or post any of my works on your own accounts, in or out of this app. Please and thank you.

[teyums]

ok ur last post made me think of this

can u do another human reader x neteyam where he meets her cat

this is so funny bc they would absolutely hate each other. it took my first cat two months to even tolerate her new sister when i first introduced them even though i let them sniff each other through a door for two weeks 🥲 it was terrible. it’s def impossible for a cat to make it through cryo to Pandora but let’s just imagine for a sec

neteyam x human!reader

“Just pet him for two seconds. He’s super sweet, I promise!” You assure a shifty Neteyam as his tail swishes behind him, his back leaned against the wall of your reserved section in the lab and his eyes glued to the moving ball of fur a few feet away from him.

“Why… Why does it look like that?” He mumbles with a slight squint of his eyes, the small grimace on his face indicating his displeasure as he watches your cat groom itself. He’s stood off to the side, arms folded across his chest, distanced demeanor matching his continuous refusal of getting any closer to the strange animal he’s never seen before.

Your jaw drops as you fake being offended and you lightly shove his arm, eyes rolling when you lean down to stroke your cat’s head, scratching under his chin and smiling when he purrs.

“What do you mean why does he look like that? You and him are basically cousins, the only difference is you don’t have fur and whiskers.”

A scoff sounds from above you almost instantly.

“Me and that thing are not cousins. I harbor way too much decorum to lick my ass and call it a bath.”

Since it’s clear Neteyam won’t move any closer, you gently pick Loki up and set him back down at Neteyam’s feet, so he can get a whiff of his scent. Your cat has always been friendly with others and loves attention, so your brows instantly furrow when you watch Loki’s ears pin back against his head, and as if he could understand what Neteyam had just said, his back arches, hair standing up off his body and he hisses up at the Na’vi male, followed by a loud, drawn out guttural meow you’ve never once heard him make at any of the scientists who he’s met. Neteyam’s eyes go wide and he immediately jumps to the side, tail standing straight behind him in alert.

“Loki!” You gasp, shocked at his unusual reaction.

“See, I told you he wouldn’t like me!” Neteyam gestures down at your fluffed up feline, only for his own ears to fall back against his braids when he mimics your cat’s behavior and hisses right back at the small creature, as if he couldn’t control himself.

“Don’t hiss at him!” You scold your 8-foot tall boyfriend, swatting at his leg while you’re crouched down to try and soothe an agitated Loki.

“He did it first!“

For a split second it’d completely slipped your mind that while Neteyam is an alien with very obvious feline attributes, introducing two cats to each other like this is pretty much always a recipe for disaster.

Likes + Comments + Reblogs are much appreciated 💗

©teyums 2023

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (01)

chapter one: flutter

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genre: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut warnings: implied smut, aftercare, mentions of alcohol consumption, hints of oc being a little emotionally constipated lol, barely edited but we should all be used to seeing that from me atp word count: 2.3k note: eeeek my first lino series is here 🥺 there's not much substance in the first part bc we're mostly just setting things up. thank you to my wifeus in the obs server (you know who you are ofc) for being the best cheerleaders, bc i don't think i would've gone through with writing this fic if it wasn't for you. fwb lino probably would've had to gather dust in the attic if you hadn't encouraged me to write him. thank you and love you <3

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › series masterpost › taglist › ko-fi

Tomorrow when it's over and we're sober I just want to believe that you'll miss me But I shouldn't 'cause we're just friends Now we're day drunk in the back seat of a taxi And you're telling me you wanna kiss me But we shouldn't 'cause we're just friends

Just Friends - Virginia to Vegas

“Minho.”

“Hmm?”

“Get off of me.”

He doesn’t, of course. Because Minho is stubborn and Minho does whatever he wants sometimes. “No,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing a soft kiss there that makes the stupid thing in your chest flutter against your will. You don’t let yourself indulge in the feeling for too long though, only a second. “You’re too warm.”

“Min,” you scold lightly, but you can’t say that you don’t enjoy having his body on yours like this. It’s different than when you’re having sex, because this is more intimate somehow, just him holding you - or rather, resting the entirety of him on top of you like the human version of a weighted blanket. Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma’am! but with a Minho-esque flare that he doesn’t have to appease you with, but chooses to anyway.

One of the reasons why you don’t let yourself relish in the moment is because intimacy isn’t what you signed up for. In fact, it’s the complete opposite of what you both agreed on. No strings attached - it was the only instruction, plain and simple.

And so you nudge his shoulder again, making him sigh and begrudgingly sit up, in all of his post-sex glory. Disheveled fluffy hair, a couple of fading marks on his neck courtesy of you, kiss-swollen lips and a kind of glow that you’re fairly certain matches your own.

“Hang on,” Minho says, I’ll get you a towel.”

He quickly throws on his boxers - previously discarded on the floor - and heads to your bathroom. He returns to your side just a couple minutes later with said item in hand, dabbing the soft cloth at your core tenderly.

“You okay?” he asks. “I wasn’t too rough on you tonight?”

You like the aftercare, and how tender he always is with you. You’re not sure if that’s the extra effort that he puts in with everyone he’s ever hooked up with, or if you two are just naturally comfortable around each other, but it’s reassuring. It’s nice to know that this agreement between the two of you hasn’t tarnished your friendship.

Yet?

Yet.

“You were perfect,” you tell him with a coy smile. “I was the one who asked for it anyway.”

Minho chuckles, then pats your bare thigh for good measure as he takes one final swipe at your core before chucking the towel into the laundry basket in the corner of your room.

He plops onto your bed again, propping himself on an elbow so he could look down at your face, highlighted only by the dim light of the small lamp on your bedside table. The way that his bicep flexes still puts you in a bit of a trance, even though you’ve seen it probably hundreds of times already.

“You know, I was pretty surprised when you asked me to try that with you,” he says, eyeing your mouth again. “Didn’t think you’d be down for experimenting new things with me.”

“Well, who else am I supposed to try things out with?”

You’re not even sure what you meant - the words just rolled off your tongue - but you don’t miss the instantaneous look of pride on his face. To hear something like that from you is clearly an ego boost for him.

You don’t miss the subtle blush that tints both of his cheeks and the top of his ears either, but you don’t dwell on it for very long.

Come to think of it, you don’t let yourself indulge in a lot of things when you’re around him.

His free hand comes up to draw imaginary patterns along your arm, starting from your shoulder, down to your elbow, then across your forearm until you could feel his fingers on the back of your hand. “I forgot to mention earlier,” he says, tracing what you think is an invisible outline of a heart on your skin. “Hyunjin knows.”

“Knows what?” you ask.

“He knows that we’re hooking up,” Minho tells you, then clarifies when he sees your eyes widening. “Well, he doesn’t know that it’s you. He knows that I’m hooking up with someone.”

You mimic his position, propping yourself up on one elbow so your face is more leveled with his, evidently alarmed at the mention of your friend finding out about a secret that you've been trying to hide for months now.

No, a secret would imply that you have more things you have to conceal. It’s probably more accurate to refer to it as the secret.

Sometimes, even you yourself wonder why this is something you need to hide from everyone. 

It’s not like you’re living in the Victorian era where people are scandalized by the appearance of a bare knee. It’s not like your friends are prudes either; most of them have had their fair share of friends with benefits. It’s all casual, all in good fun.

But maybe it’s because it’s Minho that you’re currently… preoccupied with, that makes you feel less inclined to share with the rest of the group.

If any of them catches wind of this, you know they’ll have loads to say about it, starting with a thorough but well-intentioned lecture from Chan. 

You were good friends before your thing started.

You had a friendship. You had something to lose.

You don’t know why you would even risk it in the first place.

It just happened.

One particularly lonely night. You had some alcohol in your system, and that always made you more sentimental than usual. There was something romantic in the air, or maybe that’s just what you thought looking at everything through the lenses of three glasses of wine. Not drunk, just buzzed enough to be reminded that Minho was one of the most beautiful people you’d ever laid your eyes upon.

But the accumulation of all those factors didn’t matter - couldn’t have mattered - more than the fact that he was there for you.

He listened to you brood over how suffocated you felt, how stagnant your life was, how nothing seemed to be going the way you wanted no matter how hard you tried. He didn’t offer you unsolicited advice, didn’t make you feel silly for moping. He was a soothing presence and that was enough for you.

Sometimes, your friends liked to say that you two would make a good couple because of how compatible you were. Chan once commented that you and Minho were a perfect fit, and that was what kept plaguing your mind moments before you kissed Minho for the first time.

Maybe you’re the missing piece of my puzzle, you had thought back then. My perfect fit.

You had pulled away after a couple of seconds, mortified, but his reaction was immediate. He’d chased after your lips again, no questions asked.

You knew it was a rash decision, spurred on by the heat of the moment and cheap convenience store rosé. Minho was so… goddamn addictive after just one taste that you couldn’t resist anymore. Having him felt like you finally had a taste of water after spending years deprived.

Needless to say, he ended up in your bed that night. The rest is… well, it doesn’t take a genius to deduce the subsequent series of events that led you here.

“Elaborate,” you say with an arch of your eyebrow.

“You texted when he was hanging out at my place and I was in the bathroom.” Minho shrugs. “That nosy little thing. He scrolled through quite a bit of our texts too.”

You frown. “He read our texts but he doesn’t know it’s me?”

“I don’t have you saved as your name.”

“Then what do you have me saved as?”

Up until now, you never even thought about this, and you’ve always just assumed that you’re in his contacts under your name, like he is in your list. Well, technically you have him saved as ‘Min’, but anyone who comes across it could still easily identify who you’re referring to.

Minho purses his lips, contemplating for a minute before he ultimately decides to withhold this information from you. He gives you a teasing smile, another shrug, before saying, “That’s for me to know and for you to find out when the time comes.”

“I don’t get to know what my own name is in your phone? Even Hyunjin knows, apparently.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know it’s you, so what does he really even know?”

“But I have a right-”

“Shhh.” Then he’s leaning forward to shush you with a quick kiss to your lips. It does the job, because you shut right the hell up. It surprises you every time he kisses you when you’re not in the middle of sex. Moments like these are rare, but you’re always rendered speechless by how casually he does it, how familiar the simple action is even when it shouldn’t be, and most of all, you’re dumbstruck by just how right it feels.

“Am I gonna see you before Yeonjun’s party on Saturday?” he asks, like nothing even happened. Your lips are tingling from a simple peck. It’s so silly, considering how just half an hour ago, he was literally inside of you, pounding you into oblivion until you had tears streaming down your face. Until you were crying out his name like it was the only word you’d ever known.

You quickly regain your composure. “I don’t know, maybe. I have a final paper to finish so I’ll probably be holed up here or at the library,” you tell him. “Maybe we’ll catch each other on campus. But if not, then, yeah, I’ll see you at the party.”

Minho seems disappointed, evident from his immediate and adorable pout. 

“It’s just a few days.” You roll your eyes harmlessly, lying back down again to snuggle into your pillow. “You’ll live.”

“Will I?” he grumbles. “What am I supposed to do for four whole days?”

“Don’t you have your finals too?”

“All presentations and papers. Finished the last one today.”

“Oh,” you say, mildly impressed by the fact. You always forget how studious he actually is. “Internships?”

“Already sent in my applications.”

“Changbin says you’ve been talking to that girl Hana in your class.”

You don’t know why you brought it up. You don’t even like hearing the words coming out of your own mouth.

Minho makes a face, almost like he’s taken aback that Changbin would even tell you that. “Because we’re in the same group for our final presentation,” he informs you.

“She seems nice, from what I’ve heard about her. Seems like she has a big fat crush on you too.”

“Not to sound mean, but I don’t really care about that.”

A feeling blooms in the pit of your stomach, a feeling that you cannot and will not give a name to. There’s just something about the way he said it, steadfast, without any hesitation.

“It does make you sound a bit mean,” you tell him.

“I’m just not interested in her.”

“I don’t want to hold up the Minho train if there are other options out there that you want to explore.”

Do you mean it? Yes and no. Part of you wants to be nosy and prod until he fesses up about a potential love interest in his life - if there even is one - so that you could be a good friend that tell him to just go for it, but your curiosity is eclipsed by your selfishness, because you realize that you don’t really want to know if it means the end of this.

Are you being a hypocrite?

Yeah, probably.

He bites his bottom lip as if in thought, just briefly, before he rolls over to lie on his back, staring up at your boring ceiling. “I told you, I don’t care. I’m not interested in any other girl,” he says.

Realistically, you know there will be a finale. It’s only inevitable. One day, he’ll get a girlfriend, or you’ll get a boyfriend - the former seems more likely than the latter - and this arrangement between the two of you will have run its course. Null and void.

It’s part of the reason why you never let yourself relish in him, because you will only be thoroughly disappointed when he gets taken away from you.

As if he’s ever been yours to begin with.

You’ve never belonged to him either.

Neither of you owes the other anything at all.

You blink away the dazed look in your eyes, humming a noncommittal noise in irresolute agreement, before reaching for your phone to check the time. It’s not that late, half an hour shy of midnight, and his place isn’t that long a walk from yours. You know full well that it isn’t much of an excuse, and yet…

“It’s late.”

“Can’t I stay over?” He turns his head to look at you. “I’ll be good. I’ll just sleep next to you.”

“No can do,” you say. “I have a class at 10AM.”

“Me too. I can walk you to campus,” he insists.

There’s something unspoken in his gaze that you can sense but can’t translate. It’s been happening more often lately - you not being able to read him as easily as you could before. You have to admit that it makes you a little unsettled. The unknown that swims in the dark sepia of his eyes.

But maybe you’re overthinking this. Maybe you’re making something out of absolutely nothing.

“Go home, Minho,” you decide, leaving him no room to protest. The instant kicked puppy look on his face makes you feel a little bad, thus prompting you to continue, “I’ll try to see you on campus, okay?”

He looks at you for another moment before he sits up unwillingly. It seems like he has something else to say - something other than a butthurt comment about being bored out of his mind over the next few days - but in the end, he gives up. You notice the way his shoulders slightly slump as he exhales, “Okay.”

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 27.11.2023]

[pandoraslxna]

hi!! ur jake x tonowari fic got me thinking like ive been thinking abt ur writing for days.

imagine the both got back from an unsuccessful hunt together and the reader asked them if they needed any help after the hunt and they were like "yes 😈" and just hardcore smut

Stress relief

Jake Sully x female reader x Tonowari

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, mmf threesome, oral, p in v, pandoras mighty dilfs in action, rough sex, cum swallowing, poly relationship, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, kinda forced orgasm, spit roasting, squirting, praise kink, use of 'sir’, slight degradation kink too if you squint

Notes: I’m using that gif purely bc jake looks like he’s fucking someone and Tonowari talks them through it— 😩 (pls make sure to reblog, I feel like this is gonna get shadowbanned too)

You’ve been waiting for them inside your marui pod patiently. The hours have passed painful slow without them and it’s not until the eclipse had started, that two familiar Na‘vi return to your shared home. Immediately, you jump to your feet to greet them happily, but the expressions on their faces are everything but. That could’ve mean only one thing.

"What’s wrong? Didn’t catch anything today?", you ask them carefully, while the both set away their weapons, spear and bow. Tonowari purses his lips before he speaks with a sigh, "No, the Srakats were especially tough today."

"Don’t be disappointed", you smile at him gently, "I‘m sure you‘ll catch one next time."

Jake passes you to stow away some other things, but before he does, he leaves a small kiss on the corner of your mouth. "You should’ve seen us though, we put up one hell of a fight with those things." He’s says it so half heartedly, seemingly trying to cheer up the mood but still, your smile drops. They’ve been talking about nothing else than this hunt since yesterday, were gone for the whole day and are now probably very exhausted too, it’s no wonder they were frustrated. You can’t help but feel bad for them.

"Is there anything I can do to make you both feel better?" The question is innocent. You’ve been thinking about cooking them their favorite meal, you’re pretty sure you still have some meat stored, but with the way the two of them instantly look at each other… you could’ve only guessed that’s not what they have in mind.

Tonowari slowly closes the gap between you and him, his board arms circling your smaller frame and pulling close into a hug. You sigh against his warm skin, your big, oblivious eyes looking up at him through long lashes.

"I think there’s a thing or two you could do about that", he says slyly and your eyebrows rise. Behind you, you can hear Jake chuckle, "He’s been talking about nothing else all day. I’d say it’s partly your fault too, that he was so unfocused and we didn’t catch anything."

"M-My fault?", you blink at him over your shoulder and Jake hums in agreement. "You had him all hard and desperate, daydreaming about that cute little pussy aaall day." At his words, you swallow thickly and your gaze switches from Jake back to Tonowari.

"If I remember correctly, you were the one to plant such thoughts in my head in the first place", he chuckles, "Talking about all the things you were going to do to her once we‘re back. All that talking scared away the Srakats!"

You giggle at the way they’re teasing each other and suddenly, both pair of eyes land on you. "What’s so funny, sweetheart?", Jake tilts his head and you bite on your tongue to stop yourself from laughing. He looks at you for a moment, eyes roaming over you body as he licks hip lips and crosses his muscular arms over his chest.

"Undress", Jake orders you with a stern look on his face. You’re dumbfounded for a second, like you’re frozen in place. But then Jake raises his eyebrows, prompting, and immediately you get to work, undressing yourself. You’re clumsy as you do, hurriedly untying your loincloth, almost stumbling over your own feet in the process and when it comes to your top, you struggle with the clasp. "A little faster than that, bunny. We don’t have all day. Unless you want me to rip it off of you, hm?" Quickly, you shake your head. You’ve spent way too many hours weaving that top, just for Jake to destroy it because he was too impatient.

The two tall Na‘vi stare you down so intensely and with so much lust in their eyes that your hands begin to tremble. Still, you somehow manage to finally get your top off and it falls to the ground next to your feet. Now you stand there, awkward and completely bare before them, obediently waiting for your next order.

You could feel their eyes on you and the whole situation made you feel insanely excited. In their minds, they were already touching, kissing, licking and biting on every part of skin they could see. You squirm a little and clench you thighs together, eager for them to make it happen. Tonowari then reaches out and gently brushes a thumb over your cheek and you close your eyes and lean into it, sighing. "Get on your hands and knees for me, will you do that?"

Oh he didn’t had to tell you twice.

Heat floods your cheeks as you drop to your knees, almost embarrassingly fast and Tonowari chuckles at the sight. Like this, you were almost eye level with his crotch and the bulge forming right under his loincloth was speaking for itself, proving to you, that what they had told you was true. He wanted you. So bad.

Tonowari steps closer and like this, you had to crane your neck to look at his face. The metkayina strokes your hair gently before guiding your small hands to the piece of clothing covering his crotch. Getting the hint, you make quick work of untying his loincloth. Once his clothing falls to the ground and his cock springs free, you gulp audibly. The hand that had been caressing your head then moves, his thumb slides over your bottom lip ever so slowly before he slips his digit into your mouth. He traces the edges of your teeth. "Remember, good girls don’t use their teeth", he smiles down at you and you nod, eagerly.

Your hands then reach out to touch his cock. It twitches in your palms, too big for you to close your hands entirely around it. The realization alone made you feel uneasy and heat pools from your core and smears between your clenched thighs. Experimentally, you squeeze and stroke him before Tonowari guides your head closer, until he could feel your warm breath on the tip of his cock. First, you press a small kiss on top of it and Tonowari can’t help but huff out a breath, smiling at the precious sight before him.

He watches you with half lidded eyes, as you let saliva pool in your mouth and then stick your tongue out and let it drip down onto his tip. It makes his dick glisten, slippery with your saliva. You continue with dragging your tongue up the underside of his dick and he groans, relishing in the feeling of that wet, warm muscle against his hard length.

Those licks and kisses felt good, incredible even, but they were not nearly enough, not for how hard he was. But Tonowari was a patient man.

You drag the flat of your tongue up, the tip of it flicking just beneath the head of his cock. Tonowaris hips jerk at the sensation and he rolls his neck back with a groan. He tries to restrain himself– to restrain the urge to just flip you onto your stomach and fuck you senseless, make you scream his name for the whole village to hear.

Jake on the hand wasn’t exactly known for being very patient. The only times when he would willingly take it slow with you and show patient was, when he was teasing you.

Behind your back, you could hear him move. You can’t really see him like this, but you know he’s there, settling himself behind you. With a hand on your back he helps you in position –one hand on the floor and the other resting on Tonowari‘s strong thigh. With his own, he nudges your legs apart and makes room for him to kneel between them, so your bottom was hovering over his lap. His hands roam over your body, kneading your breasts and stroking over your back, where he then leaves wet kisses and love bites behind.

"Where do you want me, sweet girl?", he whispers and his breath against the wet spots, where he had kissed you on your spine, make goosebumps appear on your skin, "Inside that cute ass? Or that tight little pussy of yours, hm?"

You exhale a shaky breath, lips still close to the head of Tonowari’s cock as you answer him, "Inside my… my pussy, please." Your wish is answered by a dark chuckle coming from behind you and two large hands begin to spread your soft folds, revealing your entrance to him. "Can’t deny such a filthy request coming from such a pretty girl", he hums.

With his cock in hand, Jake carefully prods himself against your wet opening. "Focus on me", Tonowari tells you right before Jake pushes the head of his cock inside. You gasp as he stretches you, sinking into you ever so carefully and slow. It still stings, thanks to his inhuman size and girth. "It’s okay, just breathe", Tonowari coos above you, holding your head in his big palms, "You’re doing so well, so good for him. He’s almost in."

When Jake had finally, finally, thank eywa, bottomed out, with every merciless inch of his cock shoved deep inside you, you moan, already close to coming. The sound was heavenly to their ears and Jake can’t help it when he presses his hips even tighter against yours. You could feel the tip of his cock against your cervix and then a small sob escapes your lips. You clench around him as your first orgasm takes over you so unexpectedly fast. "Fucking hell, she’s coming already", Jake pants behind you, the grip he had on your hips increases, "That pussy of yours, jesus fuck! Sweetheart, you’re gonna be the death of me."

Jake allows your body a few seconds to adjust and brace yourself, before he pulls himself out all the way and then snaps his hips forward, pushing inside you in one go. The way his waist collides with your bottom emerges a loud and obscene smack and you whimper.

Tonowari in front of you was still patient. With his hands, he holds your head up, gives you enough leverage so you don’t fall face first against the floor. He enjoys watching you fall apart on Jakes cock with only a few of his thrusts. But his cock hangs heavy in the hair, leaking pre-cum and desperately waiting for you to continue where you had stopped.

"Go on, baby. Wouldn’t be very nice of you to leave that big boy hanging, hm?", Jake muses when he recognizes the look on the metkayina‘s face. "Y-Yes, sir." Obediently, you place your plump lips over the very tip of Tonowaris cock, tongue poking the salty slit, and his mouth falls open.

Yours does too, just a moment later when you hollow your cheeks and take him further into your mouth, just barely a few more inches. His hips were trembling with the effort to not hold your head still and just fuck your throat. Thankfully, a few especially hard thrusts of Jake had you take him even further inside, until you were gagging around him and could feel your second orgasm approach almost too fast for you to fully prepare yourself. You gag again as his thrusts push you further on Tonowari’s cock and you moan around him, loud and wanton and then you cum for the second time.

"That’s it, that’s the sound I wanna hear", Jake groans behind you

To the rhythm of Jake thrusts, you bob your head up and down, tongue glued to the hard length of Tonowari. He’s so far from being fully buried inside your mouth, the size difference was making it incredibly difficult, but he could feel you push yourself to your limit. You were making these wet noises that went straight to his dick and with your small hands, you stroke every inch your mouth couldn’t reach.

The sensation of hands all over you was overwhelming. Tonowari held your head up, one of his hands mindlessly stroking through your hair and holding them out of your face. Behind you was Jake, his tail affectionately wrapped around your thigh, while his hands were roaming all over your body. He switched between kneading your ass, to tugging on your sensitive nipples or simply holding your hips in a hard grip as he thrusts into you. You could feel your walls tighten once again, sucking him even further in, in an attempt to keep him there and when Jake brushes against your g-spot particularly hard, you fall apart again. This time, your legs almost give out under you and you’re glad for all the hands holding you steady.

Your eyes roll all the way back inside your head and you dare to close them for a brief moment and let yourself be taken over by the sensations, letting more drool collect in your mouth, to cover the cock that was sliding in and out alongside your tongue, and drip out the side of your mouth. "Open your eyes, little one", Tonowari groans above you and its followed by a throaty chuckle, "Can’t have you pass out on my cock."

You look up at him, tears picking at the corner of your eyes and you hum around his length, in place of a verbal response.

Your eyes widen even more, when you suddenly feel a pair over fingers glide between your folds and expertly find your clit.

"How many times did you come last night?", Jake asks so bluntly and unbothered, like he wasn’t currently fucking the very soul out of you. You can barely hear him over your own moans and the obscene sounds of you sucking Tonowari off. When Jake circles that little nub, you can slowly feel the familiar, addicting, tension building up in your core. Again.

"Hey, I asked you a question", he says sternly with a rough tap of his fingers to your clit, to which your knees buckle. You let your tongue glide along the underside of Tonowari’s cock as you slide him out of your mouth, the tip of it leaving your plump and spit slicked lips with a soft pop.

"Two or… or, oh fuck, three, I– I don't remember, sir", you manage to respond between heavy pants and moans and just to be mean, Jake circles your clit even faster. He was incapable of being as gentle as he wanted to be, as he needed to be, but the way you flourished beneath his rough touch, how you forced yourself to take more of both of their cocks into your tight little holes, undid him.

"Good. We‘ll make it four today, cupcake."

"Fuck Jake, I– I can’t take it, please that’s too much, can’t, I can’t!"

"You can, little one", Tonowari reassures you softly. With his thick cock in hand, he gently nudges the tip of it against your swollen lips, urging you to take him inside your mouth again and you despite your whining, you don’t hesitate to do so. "See? You’re always such a good girl for us. You can take it, I know you can."

"You really think we're that dense, don't you?” Jake tsks. The resentment in his tone doesn't match the amusement creeping into the edges of his features. "I think we know best what our precious girl is capable of, right? Think we know that sweet body of yours better than you do.” He tilts his head as if he's observing a rare specimen, his attention fixed on the way your soft, round cheeks jiggle with every thrust of his hips. He angles his own hips to brush against your g-spot expertly, while he rolls your slick covered clit in between his rough fingers. You moan around Tonowari’s cock so loud, they knew without doubt that even the last villager now knew what was going on in the olo’eyktan’s marui. And so, the knot inside your lower abdomen snaps. You come again, with a gush of slickness this time, that’s then slowly dripping down your thighs.

“Yeah, that does it every time", Jake groans as he feels you clench around him in a bruising grip. You steady yourself on Tonowari’s thigh, nails digging into his skin as a rush of pleasure surges through you the way waves crash on the shore —and that’s all it takes for him to cum, the vibrations of your moans around him sending him clean over the edge.

The olo’eyktan shudders, fist clenched tightly in your hair as he feels you swallow it all, throat folding around his cock. The motion itself makes him moan, praises as well as curses falling from his lips that you barely pick up over the sound of Jakes hips still snapping against yours. Slowly, he pulls away from your swollen, wet and reddened lips.

"I’m gonna cum, baby, gonna cum inside you, yeah? Gonna fill you up all the way and– fuck, you better keep it in there until I’ll fill you up again", Jake pants and his rhythm slowly begins to falter. You do your best to squeeze around him, pull him in and hold him right there until he can merely pull out of you for more than a few inches and his thrusts become short and deep and desperate.

Until all Jake feels is heat, that incredibly tight heat that squeezes and sucks him in, with the most obscene sounds he’s ever heard– and he’s done for. He’s flooding your core with warmth as he thrusts up into you, hard, for the final time. With a bruising grip on your hips, he holds you there and fills you up, until it leaks around his cock and flows down your thighs.

You nearly sob when he pulls away, leaving you feeling exposed and empty. An ache begins to settle over you as you come down from your high. Right when your legs finally give in on yourself, you feel a pair of big muscular arms lay themselves around you and suddenly, your face is pressed against a hard chest and legs swung around someone’s waist. "Good girl, did so well for us", Tonowari coos and you could feel the deep vibration of his voice inside his chest. You lazily throw your arms around his neck and burry your face in the space of his neck, before you close your eyes with a sigh. Behind you, Jake places soft kisses on your shoulder, right after you’ve felt the warmth of his body closing in against your back.

"I knew you could do it, baby. I‘m so proud of you", Jake hums against your skin and their soft praises slowly loll you to sleep, hugged tight in their arms. In the back of your mind, you were already excitingly thinking about the outcome of their next hunt. Was it mean to wish for another unsuccessful hunt again?

Well. May Eywa forgive you.

[wintrwinchestr]

kiss it better

the killer & the sound - chapter 2

summary: you’re with the band, officially. you’ve met them, rehearsed with them all of two times, and now it’s the tour’s opening night. pretty nerve-wracking, but nothing you can’t handle, right? that is, until Joel asks you last-minute to perform their suggestive hit single Kiss it Better with them, live on stage. before you know it, your teenage dreams are coming true, in more ways than one.

warnings: 18+, smut, no outbreak au, no use of y/n, rockstar!joel, aspiring rockstar!reader, d/s dynamics, pretty major daddy kink, age gap (reader is early-mid 20’s, joel is early-mid 50’s), heavy flirting, pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, baby, babygirl, etc), shy/anxious reader, a little dub-con bc reader has a couple drinks but is alert and consenting, joel refers to reader’s pussy as she/her, smoking, power imbalance & joel using it to his advantage, exhibitionism (suggestive performance onstage but no sexual activity), lapsitting, praise kink, finger sucking, tummy bulge, unprotected p in v sex, some angst, let me know if i missed any!!

word count: 11.5k (i’m sorry or you’re welcome)

a/n: thank you so much for your patience and interest in this story!! i’m sorry i took so long, but i hope you enjoy another chapter of rockstar!joel that somehow turned out longer than the first one. thank you as always to my best girl kiers i love you so much and i’m so happy our baby rockstar brought us together <3 thank you for reading, nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed!!

series masterlist

divider by @saradika-graphics

It was only a handful of days ago that you had received the life changing invitation to open for Death’s Head on their sold out national tour. And it was only a handful of years ago that something like this was an unachievable fever dream, something you could pantomime in the shower or in the car, but still unsure if your hard work and commitment would ever pay off.

It’s been a complete whirlwind, your teenage dreams coming true in the span of less than a week. And now here you sit, shut away in your dressing room, leg bouncing up and down like a jackhammer as you add a final coat of mascara and one last sticky swipe of lip gloss. Meeting your own gaze in the vanity mirror, you fidget with your necklace, eyes wide and unblinking as you try to suppress a complete freakout.

A sudden knock on the door startles you from your daze, followed by a familiar gravelly voice asking your name. It’s Joel. You invite him in, and although you had seen him at soundcheck earlier in the day, it’s the first time you’re seeing him in the clothes he’s chosen to perform in tonight: black button-down shirt with western-style embroidery on the pockets, generously opened at the top to expose his tattooed chest. He pairs it with his signature black leather jacket, black jeans, and black boots with a pointed silver toe. He’s got various chains and metalwork adorning his ensemble, making him jingle and clink as he moves.

“Jus’ wanted to drop by before you go on, tell ya to ‘break a leg’ and everythin’...” He stands in the doorway, the thumb of one hand hooked on a belt loop while the other rests above his head against the doorframe. He looks you up and down quickly. “Look real pretty, darlin’, ‘s a nice dress.”

You look down at yourself, so flustered and not in your own head that you have to remind yourself of what you’re wearing. “Oh, th-thanks. Just bought it yesterday, got it special for tonight.”

“Certainly is special…” He muses, shutting the door behind him before taking a few long strides in your direction. “You feelin’ okay, sweetheart, feelin’ good?” He pulls up an extra chair from the corner of the room as he speaks, setting it down next to where you sit in front of your vanity. He spins it around in his grip to sit on it backwards, dark denim-clad thighs straddling the backrest of the chair. You resist the urge to stare at how his strong body stretches the material.

You opt to answer him with a lie, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “Yeah, ‘m fine.”

He drops his chin, looking at you from underneath his dark lashes. “Now why don’t I believe you? We've been over this, darlin’. Nothin’ to be scared of, yeah?” He places a large hand on your knee in an attempt to halt its incessant movement.

“‘S just a lotta people… never played in front of crowds this big before. Mostly just did a bunch of bars before now, maybe a community center or somethin’ every so often, but never a crowd bigger than a thousand. And there’s gonna be, like, ten thousand people out there.”

“Try doublin’ that.”

Your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline, and it feels like your heart just dropped into your stomach, a red hot piece of iron ore sinking into freezing water.

“Shit, shouldn’t’a said nothin’.” Joel shakes his head, pinching between his brows before lightly gripping your chin so that you stay focused on him. “Look at me. Remember our talk in the car the other day, don’tcha?” You nod your head in his grasp. “Said all about how good you are. Believe force o’ nature is the term I used, wasn’t it?” You can’t help but crack a smile at his compliment, and he returns one in the form of that canine-like grin of his. “You can do this, babygirl, yeah?”

Oh, that’s a new one. You decide you like the sound of it already, how it rolls off his tongue coated in his gravelly drawl.

You nod again in understanding, but he seems dissatisfied. “Say it back to me, sweetheart,” he instructs.

“I-I can do this,” you reply, your voice quiet, embarrassed of having to reassure yourself to his face.

“One more time, lil’ louder, like you mean it.”

You try again, attempting to infuse the sentence with a little more confidence. “I can do this.”

He seems content with your second try, and swipes at your chin before rising from his seat. “Fuck yeah, y’ can. Gonna knock ‘em dead, baby.”

He takes one last look at you before he leaves the room, and reminds you that you’re ‘Sposed to be on in fifteen, darlin’. See ya out there. He winks at you before closing the door, and then you’re alone again. Savoring your last few minutes to yourself, you decide to pace a few laps around the small room, running through a few more vocal warmups in an effort to drown out the sound of babygirl, babygirl, babygirl echoing around in your thoughts. Jesus Christ. It’s like he finds it impossible to comfort you without throwing in a little something extra to work you back up again. Though, you suppose you’d rather have your nervous energy redirected to him than to keep it focused on the endless expanse of people you’re about to be introduced to for the first time. 

What if they hate your music? What if you forget your own lyrics? What if they think you’re not good enough?

You take a guess that they’ve hit the lights in the venue now, judging by the cacophonous roar of voices that just erupted from somewhere sounding altogether too close and too far away at the same time. Too late to back out now. Not that he’d let you.

You brace your hands on the vanity counter, looking yourself in the eye one last time before you make your way to the stage. “I can do this,” you repeat the little mantra to your reflection. “I can do this, I can do this, Joel said I can do this.” A final deep breath and a tousle of your hair before you’re swinging the dressing room door open, heavy lace-up boots carrying you to the wings of the stage where your band members are already waiting to go on. It’s dark backstage, and it takes your eyes a second to adjust before they land on Joel. The accents of silver decorating his face and scattered throughout the clothing he wears catch some of the light from the stage, helping you to identify his form. You acknowledge him, but keep your feet planted where they are, flexing your hands and then clenching them into little fists as you try to peek at the audience, relishing your final moments of being a relative nobody. Your chords, your lyrics, your innermost thoughts are still only known to you and a few handfuls of others, for the next few minutes at least. Your life, your career, begins tonight, there, on that daunting and expansive stage. Angel is already out there waiting for you, beckoning to you, if only you could just push off the balls of your feet and go to her. You wish Cat were here.

A rough hand perches itself on your shoulder, and a low voice begins to speak close to your ear. “Everythin’s all set, show starts whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” you half-whisper, giving a swift nod of your head, swallowing hard and worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. His hand applies some pressure to the slope of skin between your neck and shoulder, massaging the muscle.

“Gotta relax, sweetheart, c’mon. Breathe with me. In…” He inhales deeply, and you mimic the action, holding your breath until he permits you to let it go. “And out…” 

He moves his hand to your upper back, course calluses scratching against the patch of soft skin exposed by the low back of your dress. “Gonna be back here the whole time. You start gettin’ nervous, you look at me, ‘kay?” He speaks the phrase slowly, like he’s trying not to spook a newborn animal. You suppose he’s validated in that, the way you do feel a little like a fawn about to walk out onto a frozen lake.

You turn your head to face him over your shoulder. “Okay. Um… wish me luck, I guess.”

“Don’t need it, babygirl.”

The both of you share a knowing smile once more, and it makes enough of your nerves melt away that you don’t even realize that Angel is becoming closer and clearer in your vision. Your feet had started carrying you out onto the stage before you had given them permission to, it seems, and now the embroidered luna moths are wrapped around your body. The hot lights are shining brightly in your eyes, and you’re suddenly enveloped in a dense cloud of white noise that sounds like cheering and screaming. 

You look behind you, and your band members have each taken their positions. They all give you a nod or a thumbs up, and now it’s up to you to kick off the tour’s opening night. When you turn your head toward the wings one last time, Joel is still standing where you left him, arms crossed in the darkness. He juts his chin upwards and mouths something to you, the shapes of his lips forming the phrase you can do this. You whisper the affirmative phrase back to him, the same way he had you do in your dressing room.

After you’ve introduced yourself into the mic using the steadiest voice you can muster, you shut your eyes, take a final stabilizing inhale, and then a metallic chord reverberates around the venue as you begin your set.

Instincts and muscle memory carry you most of the way through the first half of your songs. You can worry about building up your confidence and stage presence after you’ve come out the other side of this first night in one piece, you resolve. Right now, you’re just trying to work up the courage to unstick your eyes from the setlist taped to the floor in front of you. Those titles printed in bold black ink are the only familiar things you can see, and you wish someone else covered in black ink were standing in front of you for you to rest your gaze on. Someone to use his tattooed fingers and devilish grin to charm you like a snake, prevent you from curling up and hiding from him, from the tens of thousands of people who traveled and paid good money to see you. You can’t let them down, let him down. You won’t.

One of the songs toward the end of your set requires Angel to be the sole performer for the first few measures before your voice and your band come in behind her. The song starts with a repetitive, hypnotic strum pattern, one you’ve practiced hundreds of times by now. But, it’s easy to get lost in it, lose track of your place if you allow your mind to get distracted or your fingers to be on autopilot for too long. 

That’s exactly what’s happened, you realize, when the first verse starts without its igniting lyric. You come in just in time to sing the second line, hoping your voice isn’t coming out too shaky as you try to cover up your mitsake. Your face feels hot, fingers struggling to grip your guitar pick as they become sweaty with embarrassment.

You start gettin’ nervous, you look at me, he had told you, what seems like hours ago now. 

When you feel you’ve got a better handle on the song, you turn your head toward the wings to find him already looking at you. If he had noticed the slip-up, his face doesn’t let onto it, which helps to relax you. He wears a proud smile, and holds eye contact until you’re ready to let it go.

His reassuring presence allows you to finish strong, and the remainder of your set is over before you know it. When the drums and bass have faded behind you, and the remaining tones of your closing chord have dissipated into the air, you start to come back into your own body as the white noise filling your ears turns into voices. They’re cheering, whistling, screaming. You raise a hand above your brows, blocking the harsh spotlights so you can get a better look at the crowd, at the thousands of people you had been too scared to acknowledge the reality of earlier this evening. You break into a laugh, eyes becoming wet when you realize Joel was right, you could do it. You did do it. And the crowd fucking loves you. 

Unable to contain your elation, you step back from your mic to do a little spin in place, strumming out some final nonsense chords with your nose all scrunched up as the skirt of your dress flutters around you. You take a bashful bow and wave to the crowd, your cheeks burning with the stretch of your smile. Stepping forward again, your voice echoes around the venue as you extend some final “thank you”s to your incredible audience, reminding them of your name one last time before skipping offstage, your band following close behind. 

Although your vision is still recovering from the blinding lights, you don’t find Joel in your quick scan of the dark backstage area, and you figure he must be doing some last-minute warm ups or pre-show rituals with the rest of Death’s Head. You share a quick celebration with your bandmates, and then head your separate ways for the night, realizing when you go to change your clothes in your dressing room that you’ve still got Angel draped across your body. It’s going to take a few shows to get used to leaving her onstage for a roadie to pack up for you, you suppose. It’s difficult to remember that you’re not the only one taking care of yourself anymore. But if this was what the rest of your life was going to be like, what your years of hard work and trying and failing and rejection and acceptance had gotten you, you could certainly learn to get used to it.

For now, you detach yourself from Angel and lay her down gently on the couch in your dressing room, setting a mental reminder to find a stagehand later to surrender her to. You know it’s strange to feel such fondness toward an instrument, but she’s like a close friend to you now, a partner. “We did it,” you say to her quietly, smiling to yourself.

Your sentimental little moment is interrupted by another knock at the door.

“You in there, darlin’?” Joel calls from the other side of the wall.

“Oh, yeah! You can come in,” you permit, and he pushes the door open as you turn to him. “What’re you still doin’ back here?”

He scoffs and makes a face in mock disgust. “Damn, could act a lil’ happy to see me.”

“Sorry,” you giggle as he steps fully inside the room, shutting the door behind him. For a beat, you just stand facing each other in silence. You bounce on your heels and fiddle with the hem of your dress, waiting for him to say something.

“Fuckin’ incredible out there, babygirl. ‘Bout knocked me on my ass, I swear.” He steps closer to you, taking your face in both of his large hands. It makes your breath hitch, your eyes widening as they look into his. “Goddamn superstar, you are. They fuckin’ loved you.”

You break into a grin, swollen cheeks pushing into his calloused fingers. “Thank you… Took me a while to get it going, slipped up a little towards the end, but it was fun. Can’t believe I did it.”

“Well shit, I can. You should be proud of yourself, baby.”

“I am.”

“Good.” He studies your face for a moment, and for a split second, you think he might kiss you, and that you might want him to. You try to knock the thought from your head swiftly, and he drops his hands from your face as you do.

“So listen, came back here to ask you somethin’ actually. I know it’s pretty short notice and all, but the guys and I were wonderin’ if you’d wanna come back out and open our set with us.”

Your lips part in surprise, blinking quickly as you process his request. “Oh, um… That’d be really cool, but–”

“But what? C’mon, sweetheart, they loved you. They’ll go crazy for it.” He almost sounds like he’s getting impatient, the way he cuts you off. 

You try to justify your hesitation, hoping he’ll understand. “We just didn’t rehearse it together, I don’t really know the chords–” He interrupts you again. “Don’t matter, we’re changin’ the opener, anyway. Gonna play Kiss it Better instead. Gotta know that one, right? Since you’re such a huge fan and all.”

He’s caught you, and he knows it. Of course you’re familiar with Death’s Head’s biggest hit. When you first fell in love with their music, it was one of the first songs you taught yourself to play. He had probably heard you absentmindedly plucking out the chorus during your soundcheck. You know you can’t lie to him now.

You take a moment to consider, then nod. “Okay, yeah. I’ll do it.”

The stern look on his face melts into one of smug satisfaction. “Good girl. Now c’mon.”

You lean over to grab Angel from the couch, but Joel stops you with a hand on your arm. “Won’t need her.”

You pause, turning your head to look at him with your brows furrowed. “I won’t?”

“Thought you just said you knew the song, baby. You forget how it starts?”

Oh.

He wants you to perform that part of the song with him. You wish you had remembered how the intro goes before agreeing to go back out there.

Shit.

Joel jerks his head toward the hallway with a “c’mon”, and you follow him out of your dressing room and back to the side of the stage. The rest of Death’s Head is already waiting, looking exasperated by Joel’s tardy appearance. Tommy gives you a double take, a brief look of confusion washing over his face before adjusting his expression to offer you a friendly smile instead. He and Joel exchange a few hushed words, and it doesn’t take much for you to gather that the guys weren’t in on this at all. This last minute switch up had all been Joel’s idea.

When the brothers are done speaking, Tommy nods in understanding, then passes the change in plans along to Eugene and Jesse. Joel must hear the erratic metallic scrape of your crucifix dragging across its silver chain as you fidget with it, and he turns his attention to the thousand yard stare you’re wearing.

He nudges one of your shoulders with his own to jostle you back to reality. “Where’d my confident girl go, hm?”

“Nowhere. Just… wasn’t really prepared to do this.”

“Just follow my lead, sweetheart. It’ll be good, promise.”

You nod, blinking rapidly, trying to focus on his face in the dark.

“You ready?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Joel grins down at you in satisfaction, then turns to face the band. “Whaddya say we get this show on the road then, boys?”

Tommy claps him on the back with a “Let’s do it, brother,” and then Joel is taking your hand in one of his big paws, leading you back out onto the stage you thought you’d already seen the last of.

An explosion of screams and cheers even louder than the one you’d received nearly knocks you over where you stand next to Joel, unsure of what to do with yourself while you await his instruction. He lets go of you briefly to pick up his guitar and situate the strap across his broad chest, then replaces his hand against the small of your back. It feels a little grounding, reassuring, and prevents you from being consumed by too many questions of what the fuck you’re doing out here. You’re pleasing him, that’s what. Not letting him down, right? Doing what he asks, because you’d do anything he asks, and he knows that.

He introduces himself and the band to the crowd, not that they need reminding of who they shelled out a couple hundred each to see tonight, and then you realize he’s talking about you.

“Remember her? Beautiful, ain’t she? Hell of a performer, too,” he speaks into his mic. You turn to smile at Joel while the sea of voices threatens to swallow you up, and the way he’s looking back at you is doing much the same. His expression is hungry, almost, and it reminds you of what it is you’re about to do.

He turns to face the crowd again. “Y’all seemed to like her so much, thought she could be my lil’ helper for our first song this evenin’. That alright with y’all?” Another ground-shaking response from the audience, and he leans closer into the mic to huff a laugh and say, “Thought so.”

Joel covers the head of the device with his hand, so that he’s only speaking to you now. “C’mere, sweetheart. Stand in front o’ me.” His other hand tightens against your lower back, moving you to where he wants you. “Want you to kneel for me now, baby.” He moves his hand up to your shoulder, applying downward pressure and helping you sink to the floor. Your eyes are doe-like and sparkling as you look up at him, heart pounding and breath quickening as you settle at his feet. The sound of your own blood rushing through your skull almost drowns out the fit of ecstasy erupting behind you, the band’s most loyal fans already knowing where this is going. And so do you.

Joel removes the mic from its stand, holding it to his lips and speaking a final “You know what I wanna hear, go ahead, now,” before lowering it to your mouth, his hand now level with the growing bulge in his jeans. The other one begins to strum a steady rhythm against steel strings, building up to the crescendo into the crash of the song’s first verse.

You hesitate, opening and closing your mouth once as you reach a wavering hand towards the microphone. Joel shakes his head in disapproval, and his lips form shapes that look like “hands to yourself”. He smirks down at you when you quickly snatch your hand away, pleased with your obedience. His silver brow piercing catches the light when he jerks his chin upward, the bright lights making his eyes appear to flash like a cat as he encourages you to speak.

“Please…” you squeak out, your voice providing the queue for Tommy’s thrumming bassline to come in.

Joel swings the mic back up to his mouth to speak into it once more, initiating this depraved little game of give and take. “Please, who?” he challenges, and then it’s your turn again.

You swallow, knowing what he wants to hear. “Please… Please Da– Daddy…” The title catches in your throat, this being the first time you’ve ever spoken it aloud the way you’ve always fantasized about. What a debauched sight you must be, pretty young thing on her knees for her teenage rock idol, calling him Daddy in front of thousands and thousands of strangers. If only your mother could see you now.

A kick drum comes to life somewhere behind Joel’s towering form. It vibrates your already sore knees, the feeling traveling to the apex of your thighs. “Tha’s it. Now please, what? Use your fuckin’ words, baby.” His demanding tone prompts a soft whimper to escape your lips, and you shift on your heels. His eyes flick down to where the hem of your dress just barely conceals your panties, licking his lips before focusing on your face again.

“Please kiss it better, Daddy,” you plead, and a warm, fluttery sensation begins to wash over you. Your eyelids feel a little heavier, your brain feels a little cloudy, and he knocks the underside of your chin with the mic once to bring you back to him.

“Hm, I dunno… Still think you can beg a lil’ prettier than that. Try one more time for Daddy...” He flashes his canines as he watches your hips rock back and forth, unsure if you even know how your body is reacting to him. He’s got you exactly where he wants you now, making a mess of yourself for him, shedding the skin of that shy little girl he first met not so long ago. 

“Mmh, please, Daddy, need you to kiss it better, please…” Your voice sounds fucking wrecked, and you almost don’t recognize it as your own. It takes you a second or two to realize that Jesse’s guitar has joined in over top of the drums, and you know your little performance is over now.

Joel steals the mic from your panting mouth for a final time, slotting it back into its stand. With lips pressed against the device, he growls, “A’right, good girl, tha’s enough, baby,” and his shrieking guitar resounds all around you as your reward. 

You stay kneeling for the remainder of the song, recovering from the whiplash of sinking into such a soft, unfamiliar headspace for the first time only to have nothing come of it. Attempting to recenter and distract yourself, you study Joel’s fingers up close as he plays, trying not to think too hard about those gothic letters adorning his knuckles. It’s no use, of course it is, and you shift around on your sore knees as the memory of that title leaving your lips, being commanded of you by him, replays itself like a skipping record. You’re a little ashamed at the feeling of how soaked your panties are, only being made worse when you chance a look up at Joel to find him already staring down at you, singing the suggestive lyrics of the song to you.

The final chords ring out a few minutes later, and then he’s reaching an inked hand down for you to take. You use it as leverage to push yourself back up to your feet on shaky legs, and you attempt to smooth out the bottom of your dress while Joel maneuvers you to face the crowd again.

“What a performance, huh? God damn,” he praises, making your cheeks burn as he drinks you in again. “‘S all I need from you for now, sweetheart, catch up with you later, yeah?” 

You nod, doing an uncoordinated little curtsy toward the roaring crowd, cheering voices peppered with a few lewd-sounding whistles and hollers. “A’right, you run along, beautiful thing,” and he sends you offstage with a wink and what seemed like an unspoken promise for more, later.

–

Earlier in the day, you had been looking forward to watching the band from the wings after you were done performing, realizing how cool it was going to be that your first time seeing them live would be from somewhere even better than the front row. You can’t even bear the thought of that now.

You make a beeline from the stage to your dressing room, searching frantically for the lighter and pack of cigarettes in your bag. God damn, you need a fucking smoke right now, and some fresh air. It’s like striking gold when you find them buried underneath receipts and gum wrappers and makeup, guarding them with your life as you head out the venue’s back door.

You let it slam behind you as you press your exposed back up against the cold exterior wall, shaky fingers trying desperately to flick the lighter on and ignite the cigarette between your lips. Closing your eyes for a moment, you take a deep inhale of smoke, letting the cool night air wash over your heated skin. It’s impossible to escape him entirely, even all the way on the other side of the amphitheater, his muffled timbre still audible as the breeze carries it across the dark sky. You let your gaze rest on nothing in particular as you puff through your cigarette, trying to process what the hell just happened out there.

The problem isn’t so much what you did, it’s that you liked it, the evidence of which is still smeared along your aching cunt and between your thighs. The light wind flutters the skirt of your dress, and the sensation on the cooling moisture at your core sends a shiver up your spine, igniting goosebumps all along your exposed skin.

When your cigarette is almost burned down to a nub, you’re tempted to put it out on your arm, just to see if the burn might wake you up from whatever insane erotic dream you seem to be having.

‘S all I need from you for now, sweetheart, catch up with you later, yeah?

For now. Catch up with you later.

You’re sure he meant nothing by it, the “catching up” most likely referring to a conversation where he tells you not to look too far into what happened tonight, that it was just a performance, all a part of his act. You had played your part, it was a one time, spur-of-the-moment thing, and now you navigate the rest of the tour pretending it never happened.

You toss the smoldering butt of your smoke onto the pavement, stomping it out before heading back inside, the majority of your racing thoughts now slowed by a dense cloud of tobacco. You feel a little more stable than you did twenty or so minutes ago, letting your heavy boots lead you to the venue’s green room. You plant yourself on one of the large couches upholstered in tacky paisley fabric, preparing yourself for the awkward but professional talk you’re bound to have with Joel once the show is over.

Eyeing the bar cart in the corner of the room, you decide to get up and pour yourself a drink to pass the time. You don’t typically go for brown liquor, but it’s what’s in front of you, likely at the band’s request. Joel certainly strikes you as a whiskey kind of guy, at least. You hope he won’t mind if you help yourself to some of his share, pouring a finger into a short glass with ice and filling the rest with half a can of Coke from the ice bucket on the cart.

There’s a small, square television in the room, which you notice is playing a live feed of what’s happening on stage. You spot its accompanying remote on the lacquered coffee table in front of you, and grab it to turn the volume up as you begin to sip on your drink. 

It’s not the most high-definition feed you’ve ever seen, and you can tell the television is a few years outdated. But it’s good enough for you to use to pass the rest of the time. You could woman-up and just watch from the side of the stage like you had planned on, but it’s nice to have this little room to yourself for now. The combination of watching Joel through the shabby screen and the sagging couch you’re practically sinking into reminds you of home, in a way, of the first time you’d ever seen his face aside from album covers and posters ripped from magazines. It’s still hard to believe you’ve met him now, performed with him, been on your knees for him. The memory makes you squirm uncomfortably, both from arousal and humiliation. 

You allow your focus to be shifted to the small pile of Rolling Stone copies on the coffee table instead of your little performance, and flip through the pages while the crackling sound of the rest of Death’s Head’s set plays in the background. You’d always had a knack for finding ways to keep yourself distracted, and you’re thankful for that skill now.

After another hour or so, your attention is pulled back to the television when you hear the words “thank you” and “goodnight” in the mix of what Joel is shouting to the crowd, and you realize the show must be over now. A glance at the clock on the wall lets you know it’s almost eleven thirty, and a yawn takes over the muscles of your jaw on instinct. Between all you’ve been through tonight and what ended up being two Jack and Cokes, you’re looking forward to finally changing out of your clothes and tucking yourself into your tour bus bed. You hope it’s at least somewhat comfortable, having not had a chance to lie down on it yet. 

But before you can succumb to the temptation of sleep, you have to catch up with Joel first. You’ve already gone over what he might say to you a dozen times in your head, prepared for any and all possibilities when he pulls you aside tonight to set the record straight between the two of you. 

The stage is dark and empty now on the square little screen, the sound of screams and applause replaced by baritone laughter and heavy footfalls approaching the green room door. When Joel pushes inside with the other men in tow, you sit up a little straighter and offer him a friendly smile as he heads straight for the bar cart. You were right in your assumption of his alcohol preferences, watching as he pours himself a generous glass of the same whiskey now working its way through your bloodstream.

“You stealin’ some of my good liquor, darlin’?” he jokes, noticing that the cap on the bottle had already been unscrewed and spotting the glass on the table in front of you.  

“Yeah, sorry, was hoping you wouldn’t mind.”

“Nah, ‘s fine by me. Want me to top off your glass?” He asks as Tommy relaxes into the other end of the couch you’re perched on. Jesse and Eugene sit down together in a creaking loveseat to your left, already engaged in a conversation of their own.

“I’ve already had two, I probably shouldn’t–” you protest.

Joel interrupts you, reaching a hand out and making a grabbing gesture towards your quarter-full drink. “We’re celebratin’, baby. C’mon, hand it over.”

You oblige, surrendering your glass, and it becomes more and more true with each interaction with Joel that he really doesn’t ever take ‘no’ for an answer. At first, you had thought Tommy’s warning was because Joel was just stubborn, which does seem to be the case. But he doesn’t have to argue much to get his way, he gets it just because his charm and demeanor warrant it. It’s like he cast a spell on you the moment you first met him, and now you can’t help but to say ‘yes’ to whatever he asks of you, even if it might be against your better judgment. 

Joel hands your glass back to you, a little more Jack and a little less Coke than you would’ve poured for yourself, but you only have to sip on it long enough to get through the “catching up”. Maybe the extra helping will make the whole thing a little easier, anyway. Joel plants himself on the black leather chair across from the couch you’re sitting on, groaning as he spreads his legs and relaxes his forearms on top of the chair’s wide armrests. There’s a lamp that sits in the corner of the room, and the warm glow illuminates the back of his head of curls, still damp and sticking in odd directions from the sweat he worked up while performing. The slight golden halo almost makes him look like a king sat atop his throne. 

He catches you staring, studying him, and his lips tug into a smirk. He chooses not to taunt you about it, instead turning his attention to Tommy to talk about the show. That’s what you assume they’re talking about, at least. You feel a little awkward, out of place among the group of men, and your eyelids are getting heavier with each passing minute despite their gruff voices and sharp bursts of laughter. You let yourself shrink into the couch's worn fabric, swirling your glass around and taking an occasional sip just to look like you’re doing something. You’re half tempted to reread one of the magazines you had already looked through.

Eventually, after each of the men have gotten a drink or two in them, Tommy is the first to rise from his seat. You had been playing with the lace hem of your dress, tracing the patterns with your finger, so engrossed in it you had almost forgotten you were sharing the couch with him.

“Well, you ready to head out, boys? Keep the party goin’ a lil’ bit longer?” he proposes. “You’re welcome to come too, sweetheart, if you wanna. Just not sure it’d be your kinda scene,” he adds, turning to you.

“Oh, it’s okay, I’ll probably just head to bed soon. Thank you for offering, though.”

Tommy smiles at you and nods in understanding. Jesse and Eugene accept his invitation, and then there’s only one member of Death’s Head whose plans you’re unsure of. “You comin’, brother?” Tommy asks him.

“Nah, I’ll stay here. Make sure our special guest gets to her bus alright ‘n all.”

“Good idea... Well, see y’all later, then. You were great tonight, darlin’, by the way,” Tommy compliments, and you smile politely as you thank him.

The three men leave the room, closing the door behind them, and now you’re alone with Joel again. It’s mostly silent, save for the squeak of the leather and light jingling of metal chains when he decides to get up from his chair, replacing Tommy in the empty spot beside you on the couch. He crosses one leg over the other, resting a calf atop the opposite thick thigh. You can feel his gaze on you as he stretches his arms across the back of the couch, not quite sitting close enough to you for his arm to reach across your shoulders. You fidget with your fingernails, avoiding acknowledging his presence until you have to. Please just get it over with.

“Said it once, said it a million times, but you really were amazin’ out there tonight. Appreciate you bein’ so willin’ to do that for me last minute.”

“Oh, um… yeah. I mean, the crowd seemed to like it, so–”

“And how’d you like it?”

His question takes you by surprise, and it finally makes you turn your head to look at him. Why does it matter if you liked it or not? You’re sure nothing like it will ever happen again as far as you’re concerned, as far as you’re sure he’s concerned.

“How’d I like what…?” You question, just to make sure he’s asking you what it seems like he is.

“You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about, sweetheart,” he speaks lowly, those carnivorous eyes of his scanning over your body, coming to rest on where white lace just barely conceals the tops of your thighs.

“Oh… I, um… I liked it, I guess,” you admit sheepishly.

“‘S okay if you did, I could tell.”

And there he goes again, always being fucking right about you. You should know by now that there’s no use in trying to skirt around the truth with him.

You continue to try, anyway. “I just haven’t really done something like that before, wasn’t sure if I was doing a good job.”

“Did a perfect job, babygirl. Looked so pretty on your knees for me, sounded so sweet when you were beggin’ for Daddy.”

Oh. 

You aren’t sure what you were expecting him to say next, but it certainly wasn’t that. The room starts to spin a little, either from the alcohol still floating through your veins or from the sharp turn your catching up has taken, you can’t say for certain. Joel huffs lightly through his nose, and you think he must have noticed your breath catch in your throat and the shift of your hips in response to his filthy compliment, punctuated by the title he used so casually. 

“C’mere, sweet thing. Sittin’ so far away, you scared o’ me or somethin’?” He teases.

“N-no…”

“Didn’t think so. Now don’t make me ask again, sweetheart.” He pats the empty cushion beside him as he speaks, brows raised at you expectantly.

You obey, of course you do, and your heart hammers against your ribcage as you slide closer to his side of the couch. Your eyelids start to flutter against their own volition, and that candy-sweet, far away feeling from earlier on stage begins to make its second appearance of the night.

“Good girl… So beautiful, baby, you know that?” he praises softly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear before lightly rubbing his thumb across your pouty bottom lip. He presses it downward against the pillowy skin, and pushes the digit inside with ease when your mouth parts for him so eagerly. You close your lips around him and swirl your tongue along the calloused skin a few times, and he looks like he wants to eat you alive as he watches you fall apart for him so easily.

Joel pulls his thumb from your mouth, dragging it down your spit-slick lip so that it bounces back into place when his finger leaves your skin. He wears a satisfied grin at the way he has you completely at his mercy now, looking up at him with your glazed-over doll eyes. They scan back and forth between his glowing amber ones, awaiting your next direction.

“Gave you a compliment. What do you say, babygirl, hm?”

“Thank you, Da– unh…” The word starts to come out before you can catch it in time, shove it back into his cage. Your face runs hot immediately at your slip-up.

“‘S okay, sweetheart. You can call me that, if you wanna, say it real pretty for me. Don’t got it tattooed on me for nothin’,” Joel soothes, still-wet thumb rubbing across your cheekbone in placating strokes. “C’mon, finish your sentence, baby.”

“Th– thank you, Daddy,” you repeat, so lost in this saccharine headspace he’s coaxed out of you that you can’t even feel ashamed anymore.

“There we go, good girl… Y’know why I got that special word tattooed on me, hm?” He asks, already knowing you’re too far gone to come up with an answer. But it’s fun to watch those little gears behind your eyes struggle to turn. If you did ever know the reason, it’s long gone now. You shake your head, humming an mm-mm.

“Figured if it was part of the song that made me famous, might as well own it. Don’t you think, sweet girl? Think it belongs to me, that it should always be there to remind you who I am?”

You manage a weak sounding noise and nod in response, cheek brushing up and down against the skin of his palm.

“And who am I, sweetheart? Wanna hear you say it again…”

“D-Daddy…”

He smirks, enjoying how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into nothing more than a wet, pliant puddle of a girl. “Yeah, tha’s right… c’mere, baby. Lemme feel you.” He uncrosses his legs, returning them to their trademark spread so that he can pull you into his lap and situate you into straddling his hips. The position makes your dress ride up so far that your panties are exposed to him now, soaked-through gusset and all. His fingers make to tease the wet spot there, but change course to pay attention to something else first instead. Something scrawled in uneven black linework, peeking out from underneath your dress’ hemline. He pushes the fabric further up your bare thigh to fully unveil the shoddy little illustration, tracing around it with a roughened finger.

“Wha’s this, sweetheart, hm? This for me?” He prompts, hooking a knuckle of the opposite hand into the little dip in your chin, guiding your head downward to look at his discovery. A death’s-head hawkmoth, bearing a striking resemblance to the band’s logo, with its scribbled wings made of bleeding ink spread out across your skin.

You hum in confirmation, not trusting your own voice anymore. He squeezes at the plush skin of your upper thigh, massaging around the tattoo. A faint growl rumbles from deep in his chest. “Tha’s cute, babygirl. ‘S real cute.”

“Th-thank you,” you return, politely accepting his compliment the way he likes you to. 

His large hand migrates from the moth to your dampened core, nudging at your clothed clit with a tattooed knuckle. “All this for me too?” 

You’re so sensitive there, his touch sending a shock through your nervous system that makes your hips rock into his hand. You nod, your affirming noise sounding more like a whimper. He pinches the swollen nub between two knuckles, and you let out a pained little yelp. “Yeah?” he taunts. 

“Yeah, yes, Daddy,” you squeak out, so fucking gone for him already as his other hand guides your hips to move along his covered crotch. Even through his tight jeans, you can feel how hard he is, his cock straining against the thick material.

“Fuck, need to feel this lil’ pussy, baby. You gonna let me?”

“Uh huh, please,” you whine, ready for him to see you, touch you however he wants right here on the worn-down couch cushions. You’ve never felt anything quite like the hazy little cloud he’s got you floating in, shyness and inhibitions suddenly gone, replaced with unabashed submission.

Joel glances at the watch on his wrist, then over your shoulder to the door you’ve got your back to as you continue to unconsciously roll your hips in his lap. 

“Reckon someone’ll be back here pretty soon to clean up for the night, don’t want no one walkin’ in on what I’m about to do to you, do we?” You barely register what he’s saying, making some unintelligible sound in response as you fight to keep your eyes open. “Well, maybe you do… Had you whimperin’ and whinin’ for me in front of all those people pretty quick, didn’t I? Hardly even put up a fight, just wanna be good for me so bad, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Yes, Daddy, wanna be good.” Another wave of wetness seeps from your aching core, staining your panties a shade darker and making the fabric adhere to the shape of your swollen pussy.

“Yeah, fuck, know you do. Hang onto me babygirl, gonna take this somewhere else, let you prove it to me.” He stands up as he speaks, and you wrap your limbs around him as he carries you out the back door of the venue and onto the Death’s Head tour bus.

When he steps onto it with you clutched tightly against him, you can see the bus is spacious enough to have a bedroom in the back, which of course gets to belong to Joel for the next several weeks as opposed to a cramped bunk. You’re not sure there’s ever been a time in his life when he hasn’t gotten exactly what he wants, what he deserves, it seems, and tonight is no exception.

He tosses you onto the bed, and you don’t even have time to unlace your boots before he’s gripping your ankles and yanking you down toward the edge of the mattress. The movement hikes up your dress all the way up to your tummy, and you attempt to pull it back over yourself before his hands are replacing yours on the hem. “Nuh uh, way past that, sweetheart. Off,” he orders, and helps you sit up enough to shimmy it over your head and discard it onto the floor. “Get these off too.” His fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, and you lift your hips to help him rid you of the ruined fabric. “Now lay down, baby, spread ‘em. Lemme see her.”

You pull your knees in towards you, and Joel places two rough hands on your inner thighs, pushing them apart to slowly reveal your glistening cunt to him as he crouches down to face her. “Oh, she’s pretty, ain’t she?” He marvels, collecting the slick pooling at your entrance with a calloused thumb and using it to circle your sensitive clit. All you can do is whine and let him play with you, so entirely blissed out that you can’t be sure if any of this is real. “Knew you’d have such a pretty lil’ cunt like this.” The sensation of his warm breath ghosting against your sensitive bud combined with his touch and his praise makes you squirm, shifting your hips into his hand and silently begging for more. He uses his thumb to tease your dripping entrance a few times, and laughs when it makes you whine a little louder, a little more pathetic-sounding, before abandoning it to pay attention to your clit again.

“What’re you makin’ all those pretty sounds for, sweetheart, hm? She feelin’ empty, ‘s that it?” He goads, fingers leaving your core entirely as he stands up to finally free his cock from his jeans, hard and angry and leaking. He taps the head against your hole, enjoying the sight of it constricting around nothing. “This what you want, baby? Need me to fuck you full?”

“Unh, uh huh,” you cry, still desperately bucking toward what he’s so close to giving you. 

“Might be a lil’ selfish of me, but I think I wanna hear you beg for it again. Just sounded so sweet tonight, can’t help if I wanna hear it some more... Look at me,” he barks, and you hadn’t realized your eyes were closed until he demanded you to open them. He towers over you, sliding a thick hand up and down his shaft, the wet sound of it making you salivate. “You want this cock?”

“Yeah, yes, Daddy, please…”

“Please, what?”

“P-please gimme your c-cock, Daddy, please… Please f-fuck me.” It almost sounds like you’re crying, the way you’re hiccuping and sobbing through your words, one slurring into the next as you beg him.

“So fuckin’ eager, Christ. Such a good girl for me,” he praises, moving to line himself up with where you’re aching for him the most. You’re probably dripping onto his nice sheets, so soaked that he’ll barely have to put in any effort to fully slip inside you. “I’ll give it to ya, babygirl, fuck. So goddamn desperate.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him before he spears into you, and you let out an involuntary little mewl at how big his cock is. You only have the one experience to go off of for comparison, but Joel is fucking huge. He’s thick and long, with a blushing mushroom tip and a prominent vein running down the length of him. Your reaction to him makes him refocus on your face, noticing how wide your eyes are as you take him in.

“Can’t promise I’m gonna be gentle, don’t got it in me. Say somethin’ if you can’t handle it, I’ll put your pretty mouth to use instead, ‘kay?”

“O-okay,” you promise, continuing to watch as he begins to push inside with a groan, just the tip at first, until he quickly loses his patience and sheaths the rest of himself inside you.

“Tight lil’ cunt, suckin’ me in already, sweetheart. So fuckin’ good…” He releases a strained breath once he bottoms out, and you swear that swollen tip of his is kissing your fucking cervix. You feel so full, letting out a debauched sound as you adjust to the burn and stretch of him. He lets himself sit inside you for just a second before he slides out almost completely, growling again when he pushes back inside.

“Oh fuck, look at that,” he muses, trailing a hand from your entrance to the expanse of skin just under your belly button. His touch tickles, making you shiver, and you direct your attention from where the two of you meet to whatever it is he’s suddenly become fascinated with. “So big inside you, huh? Tummy’s tryin’ to push me out, can’t hardly take it, Christ… You’re gonna, though, huh sweet girl? Gonna take it for me?”

“Y-yes, Daddy…” you cry.

“Yeah, y’ are, good girl,” Joel says through gritted teeth, and you let your back fall flat against the bed once more as he quickens his pace, rough hands gripped onto the underside of your thighs as he pistons in and out of you. Each slap, slap, slap of skin on skin is accompanied by obscene wet squelching, the sounds becoming more distant in your ears as you let yourself drift away into some dreamy, filthy space. God, you almost wish that stupid bartender you unfortunately gave your virginity to were here to take notes on how to actually fuck a girl. Joel’s got a dirty mouth, and he knows exactly how to use it to push and pull you, mold you into exactly what he wants you to be, at least for tonight. And you’re more than willing to give in.

You’re not sure how much time has passed before you feel a thumb and fingers squeezing either side of your face, forcing your lips into a pout as he jostles your head to bring you back to reality. When your fluttering eyes finally focus on Joel’s face hovering over yours, you can see that his lips are moving, teeth bared as he speaks. He’s looking at you expectantly, his pierced brow twitching into an arch, and you assume he must have asked you a question.

“Hm?” You mumble, and he gives your jaw another little shake.

“Asked you if it feels good, sweetheart. Tell me it feels fuckin’ good, need to hear it, babygirl. C’mon,” he spits through gritted teeth, that rockstar ego of his taking over in its need to be aroused. He punctuates his request with a particularly sharp thrust, one that makes you yelp.

“F-feels… feels good, Daddy. Feel so… so– unh,” you cry out, unable to finish your string of nonsense reassurance, the jumbled mess of sounds only spurring him on to fuck into you even harder. He returns his thumb to your clit, using your slick to rub quick circles around it. It’s all too much, too fast, too hard, too big, but it’s just the right amount of overstimulation to launch you to the edge of your orgasm. You can feel yourself constrict around him, abdominal muscles contracting as you shut your eyes so tight you start seeing stars.

“Oh fuck, gonna come for me, baby? Gonna soak my fuckin’ cock, huh? C’mon, pretty girl, come for me, can feel you chokin’ me.” All it takes is a few more rubs around your aching clit, a few more of his filthy words, few more stuttering pulses of his cock inside your walls so deep and powerful you know you’ll be sore tomorrow, and then you’re howling, spasming on the sheets as he groans above you. Fireworks are exploding on the backs of your eyelids, so vivid you swear you can really hear them. The imaginary booms muffle Joel’s voice as he floods you with his come only a moment later, grumbling good girl, such a good fuckin’ girl, so god damn perfect. 

Falling forward to brace his hands on either side of your head, he stays inside you for a couple of minutes, still rock hard as his cock finishes out its last few shudders. He pulls out all too soon, and you let out an involuntary little whine as soon as he does, your subconscious’ way of protesting the loss.

“I know, babygirl, I know. She misses me already, don’t she?” he placates, thumbing some of his spend still dripping from your fucked out hole and smearing it around your pussy. Not to provide any more pleasure, just to play with you, enjoying the sight of what he did to you. “Did so well for me, sweetheart.”

As you half-whisper a “thank you, Daddy,” you hear what sounds like the bus door open and close, followed by boisterous laughter and clumsy footsteps getting louder and closer. You’re quickly snapped back to the reality of your situation, and panic begins to set in when you fully realize where you are and what you’ve just done, and with who. You’d been so lost in arousal and pleasure you’d lost track of how much time had passed. Joel hears them too, and notices the fear in your expression as he sucks his finger clean from your shared release.

“Oh, shit... It’s fine, sweetheart, it’s okay. Listen to me.” You lock your eyes onto his, your brows knit together in worry as you push yourself up to a more alert sitting position. “Just stay put, alright? You can… just sleep here tonight, I guess. Not gonna sneak you out like a fuckin’ teenager.”

“Okay,” you reply, wrapping your arms around your body as you start to shiver. For some reason, you feel the need to apologize. 

He looks around the room, quickly shoving himself back into his jeans and running his hands through his damp hair. He reaches into a still half-packed suitcase and tosses you one of his t-shirts, black with a fading whiskey brand logo printed across the chest. “Here, uh… put this on. I’ll bring you somethin’ to clean up with, just try to relax.” 

You make quick work of slipping it over your head, enjoying the comforting feeling of the soft cotton on your skin, providing some warmth on your chilled skin as its thin layer of perspiration begins to dry.

Joel slips out of the bedroom in the second that the dark fabric covers your eyes, closing the door behind him. You can hear the men’s voices erupt at the sight of him, greetings coated in their slowly dissipating inebriation. Thankfully, it doesn’t sound like they’re asking him any questions, mostly just laughing at themselves as they talk over each other, struggling to recount some apparently hilarious story from earlier in the evening. From the sounds of it, you just had to be there, you guess. Tommy says something to Joel of a similar effect, and then the commotion seems to quiet down as they each collapse onto their bunks.

The bedroom door opens again a minute later, and you lean back where you sit in an attempt to duck out of the sight of the other band members.

He lets out a light chuckle at your stealthy movement. “They ain’t gonna see ya, darlin’. Wouldn’t remember it tomorrow even if they did. Here, brought you these–” He sets a glass of water down onto a nightstand with one hand, the other occupied with a damp washcloth. You extend your arm to take it from him, and he tuts. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. Lemme do it. Lay down again, like I had ya before.”

You obey him wordlessly, resuming the same position he had just fucked you in a few minutes prior. His touch is much softer, gentler this time, as he uses the warm cloth to pet at your still-sensitive pussy, cleaning her of your shared fluids. It’s such a striking difference, the two sides of him you’ve seen tonight, and you’re surprised when he completes the task without so much as a suggestive praise or filthy remark. It makes you start to think that he might actually care about you, that maybe he could see you as something more than a plaything, something fun to tease. But he makes it so goddamn difficult to tell for sure. 

“There we are, she’s all cleaned up.” He discards the cloth into a pile of laundry, then bends down to retrieve something else from his suitcase. “Why don’t you cover up with these tonight, too. Since the pair you came in here with is a lil’... outta commission, for the time bein’.” 

You gather that he’s referring to your panties, how they wouldn’t be very comfortable to put back on again, what with how they’re still soaked through with your arousal. He seems to smile at the notion of that being his doing.

“Lift up,” he commands softly, and you raise your feet off the bed, still laid flat on your back with your knees bent. He slides a clean pair of his briefs up your legs, situating them around your waist, before applying light pressure to the tops of your feet to help you lower them once more.

“Alright… Just, uh, make yourself comfortable, then,” he says, laughing quietly when a yawn overtakes your face before he can even finish his sentence. “Think I’m gonna rinse off quick, so… ‘night, I guess.”

“Okay, yeah. ‘Night, Joel,” you reply, and he offers a quick nod as he slips out the bedroom door again. You infer that he’s expecting you to fall asleep before he comes back, which is fine, you suppose. You’re not sure you could force yourself to stay awake much longer to wait for him, anyway. Reaching over to the glass on the nightstand to take a few sips of the water he brought you, you let your mind wander to what he could be thinking right now, what any part of tonight could mean. He cleaned you up, he’s letting you sleep over, he didn’t sell you out to his bandmates. That means he cares about you, right? He didn’t kiss you, but everything happened so fast, and you could’ve been the one to kiss him if you had enough wherewithal to do so. Maybe he’s just not much of a romantic guy. But he cares about you, you’re sure of it now.

You pull back the sheets and curl yourself into a ball underneath them, then extend a hand up to turn off the bedside lamp. Now shrouded in darkness, the muffled sound of the bus shower running nearby prompts your heavy eyelids to pull further and further over your eyes. It only takes a few minutes for you to finally succumb to the temptation of sleep, feeling sore but satisfied, hoping that tonight will be the first of many spent like this with him.

–

You wake up several hours later to an empty bed, having been so exhausted last night that you don’t have any recollection of if Joel had ever joined you there in the first place. You don’t even remember hearing the shower turn off, or feeling his big, warm body slide into bed beside you, or even noticing the bus lurch into motion at some point to transport you to the next city. You wonder if he had pulled you close to him, let you nuzzle into his chest, if he had scratched the top of your head to soothe you after you had made some little noise in your sleep. You think at least one of those things might have happened, you’re just not sure which one. You smile to yourself at the dreamy memory.

Sitting up, you rub the sleep from your eyes, then reach out a hand to feel where the sheets are mussed on his side of the bed. The fitted sheet feels cool, indicating that he must have gotten up a while ago, but let you sleep as long as you wanted. The digital clock on the nightstand reads a little past 10 AM.

You peel back the comforter, swinging your legs around and letting your bare toes touch down on the carpet. You carefully pad your way to the bedroom door, staying quiet in case any of the other band members are out there. Cracking the door open ever so slightly, you check if the coast is clear. The men’s bunks look empty, but you can see the boots of someone sitting on a couch near the front of the bus. The silver tips make them unmistakably Joel’s.

When you make your way over to him, it almost looks like he’s just been sitting there waiting for you to finally wake up, the way he’s hunched forward over last month’s issue of a guitar magazine. He’s fully dressed, and you feel a little embarrassed to still be wearing his shirt and briefs.

He flicks his eyes up to you quickly before returning them to his reading, and greets you with a curt “Mornin’”. Not spoken playfully, not punctuated with one of his charming little names for you or a scan of his eyes over your bare legs, just “mornin’”. You repeat the word back to him, taking a seat on the couch opposite him. You’re not really sure what else to say or do, the air feeling tense and thick for a reason he hasn’t let on to yet. You decide to be brave and break the silence first, but he cuts you off, closing his magazine and tossing it onto the coffee table between you.

“Listen, last night was a mistake, alright? I shouldn’t’ve let myself get carried away like that, should’a shown you some more respect, treated you like a professional. That’s what this is gonna be from now on, okay? Professional. Tell me you understand that.”

Your heart plummets into your stomach at his words, and you try not to let your face reflect the cocktail of confusion and disappointment and hurt you feel. You take a deep inhale and nod your head. “I understand.”

He looks like he wants to say more, something with some actual emotion behind it, maybe, but he pushes it down. “Already dropped your clothes from last night back onto your bus. Best go on before the boys get back, get yourself somethin’ to eat before soundcheck this afternoon.”

“Okay,” you reply quietly, eyes glued to the floor so he doesn’t see the whites of your eyes turn pink and the shine begin to well up in them. “Um, see you later, then, I guess.”

“Yeah,” is all Joel says back to you, but you hardly hear it as you swiftly exit the Death’s Head bus and slam the door behind you. You don’t have far to go, you and your band’s bus being parked right behind theirs, but it feels like the longest, most shameful sprint of your life. You allow your tears to fall once you’re safely cocooned inside your own bunk bed, thankful to be alone. You figure your band must be out for a late breakfast or exploring the city together, and you’re grateful that even if they did notice you missing last night, they probably won’t ask any questions about it.

You feel so fucking stupid, like such a naive little girl, for ever entertaining any of your childish hopes that some playful flirting and a one night stand might ever turn into something real. He’s made it very clear to you now that you’re nothing more than a little mouse for him to bat around, toying with your emotions and your cunt any way he pleases, just because he can. Because you’re so inexperienced, such an easy target, too good and too eager and too willing. And he knows you’ll do exactly as he asks now, keep it professional, because it’s what he commanded of you. And you want to please him, don’t you? Despite the hurt you feel now, you still can’t make yourself disobey him.

You feel drained all over again once your tears finally run dry, but decide you can’t let yourself wallow on your own shattered girlish dreams all afternoon. You turn over and pull the curtain back on your bunk to check the clock on the wall, and realize you have a good handful of hours until you have to be anywhere. You’ve done more with less, you think to yourself, springing out of bed to pull on some of your own clothes. You rush to locate a pen and a notepad, and retrieve Angel from the storage underneath the bus. 

With all necessary items in your possession, you sit yourself down on your own bus’s couch, and let your tangled mess of feelings transform themselves into chords and lyrics. You’ve always used your music as an outlet to cope with what you’re dealing with, why should now be any different? He wants a goddamn professional, you’re going to show him one, and if he can spring a surprise on you as big as moaning for Daddy on stage in front of tens of thousands of people, you can certainly perform a brand new song just for him, tonight.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75

message/comment/ask if you'd like to be added!!

[cillian-gets-me-wetter]

Hey can you write something about Joe and reader. Can it be like enemies to fwb. Joe bumps into reader at an event, he teases her about her stalking him and being obsessed with him but the reader just happens to be there because she’s genuinely interested in the event. Maybe after the event Joe decides to invite reader to like a after party kick back in his hotel room or home depending on the setting you choose and thats where they get intimate. Make it super smutty. Reader isnt famous in anyway she works in the field like a data analysis or statistician something other a journalist please, and you could make their rivalry or hatred stem back to college days.

NO BC I LOVE THIS CONCEPT SM YES YES YESSSS and i have the perfect song inspo in mind too :))

if u think i’m pretty - joe burrow x fem!reader

requested by: @multiflcs :))

warnings: exes to enemies to ??? (i’m sorry, all i know is complicated relationships tbh), smut (18+ ONLY), oral (fem receiving), joe is a certified munch (y’all can’t tell me otherwise), overstimulation, p in v, unprotected sex, BIG DICK JOE, riding, hair pulling, spitting, mention of unrequited love, praise, implied height difference, no use of y/n, brief cameo from ja’marr

disclaimer: i do not own any people, teams or organizations i included in this story. this is for fictional purposes only. do not copy or claim my work as your own. comments, reblogs and constructive feedback are appreciated!!

a/n: this is my first time writing smut so hopefully you enjoy reading this as much as i loved writing this!

here are resources for supporting palestine and gaza 🇵🇸

masterlist

i know that you're shitty and you're bad for me but i can't stop thinkin' 'bout it

as you walked the past the red carpet, you made your way inside the event venue, which was packed with celebrities, athletes and other public figures alike. as a data analyst for the 49ers, you were sent to las vegas to work for the super bowl so it was pretty exciting but a bit apprehensive. you’ve been to many football games for the past four years you’ve worked for the nfl but being able to attend the super bowl was a once in a lifetime experience.

through the connections you made throughout your time working, you scored an invite to the fanatics super bowl party this year so of course, you accepted. you look down at your outfit, which was a simple long-sleeved black cocktail dress, making you feel slightly undressed amongst those wearing luxury designers.

you walked through the sea of people that were socializing and talking amongst themselves to the bar area. the bartender, a woman who looked about your age, “hey, i love your dress! what can i get you?” you smiled, “thank you! and can i get a blue lagoon?” she nodded and began to make the drink. a voice behind you said, “you still order that? old habits die hard, i guess.” you scrunch up your face in confusion and look behind you, seeing the nfl’s golden boy, joe burrow, the sight of him making you sigh and roll your eyes.

you met joe during your second year at lsu, you had seen him around campus, went to some of the football games and at parties so you knew of him. you both had a statistics class together and he was failing so he asked you to help tutor him. you helped him gain a better understanding of the subject and was able to get his grade up. as you two spent more time together and got to know other, tension began to develop.

one night, he asked you to come over and hang out after your shift at a local bar and restaurant near campus. you got off of work and you drove over to his place, it seemed like a normal kind of night between friends, which consisted of ordering in food and taking turns to pick out a movie to watch.

this week, it was your turn to pick so you decided on sixteen candles since he never watched it before. you tilted your head up toward him from where you laid on his chest, “why haven’t you seen this before?” he shrugged as he gently ran his fingers through your hair, “just never got around to it.. i think tara tried to show me this other movie and i ended up falling asleep.”

tara mays was the typical popular sorority girl and cheerleader who thrived on daddy’s money in order to keep up with her lifestyle. her and joe would hook up occasionally but she would always want to make things into something more serious between them. however, joe would always have to let her down easy, insisting that she’s a great girl but a relationship wasn’t something he wanted (at least from her).

the words came out of your mouth before you actually thought your words over, “you aren’t seeing each other anymore?” he sighed, “yeah.. i had to be honest with her and myself about letting it continue.” you perk your head up in interest, “how so?” he looked at the television screen as if he was paying attention to the movie, “i told her i was into someone else.”

you nod understandably, “so.. who is this mystery girl? do i know her?” he looked down at you and smiled softly, “i think you know her very well. she likes to read a lot, she even has her own little library in her bedroom which is very cute. i have her coffee order memorized, which is a iced caramel macchiato with two sugars. her fav-”

you leaned forward and cupped his face, giving him a eager and passionate kiss. he quickly reciprocated the kiss, his hands wandering down your back. he moves away from your lips and starts to leave kisses all over your face, which made you laugh and try to wriggle away from him but his strong arms held you in place. he began to kiss down to your neck, then he flips you both over so that he’s on top.

it made you gasp and a breath hitches in the back of your throat at the way he moved you so effortlessly, like you weighed nothing. you opened your legs and wrapped them around his waist so he can feel more comfortable on top of you. he laughs softly at your reaction, “so.. i guess you’re into me too then?” you roll your eyes playfully, “shut up”. then you grab him by his shirt and kiss him deeply, internally praying that nothing ruins this moment.

the bartender handed you your drink and joe slides his card across the bar table to pay for it. you attempt to push it back in his direction, “that isn’t necessary, joe.” he shrugged it off and gently moved your hand away, “don’t worry about it.” the poor woman sensed the tension between the two of you and silently took his card and swiped it through. she asked, “do you want a receipt?”

before you said anything, joe shook his head and she handed him back his card, giving you both a polite smile. you sip your drink, annoyed at the fact that he even bothered to show up and the fact he pulled this kind of gesture knowing you wanted nothing to do with him. his voice broke you out of your thoughts, “you know… a thank you would suffice.” he dawned those famous cartier sunglasses and those stupid jeans he wore throughout college. even if he did look really hot, he was still the same person who broke your heart after graduation years ago.

you scoffed, “like i said, it wasn’t necessary. i could have bought it myself.” he retorted, “well i wanted to so you’re welcome.” your blood started to grow warm and beginning to boil at the way he was acting. he wasn’t the one who had his heart broken so the attitude wasn’t needed. he clears his throat awkwardly, “are you stalking me?” you furrowed your eyebrows at the audacity of that question. the fact he even asked you that made you want to punch him in the nose.

you laughed sarcastically, “are you fucking kidding me?do you seriously think that i came out here for you?” he shrugged, “well, why are you here then? you don’t know anything about football. you’re too obsessed with me to actually pay attention.” you glared daggers at him as the tension between the two of you grew by the second. you get closer to him and throw your drink in his face, causing attention towards you and him as he wipes the remnants of blue lagoon on his jacket sleeve.

the other partygoers stared both of you down, wondering what happened and what led to throwing a drink in the quarterback’s face. you seethe, “fuck you, joe.” you walked out of the party venue, completely embarrassed and anxious about losing your job since this incident involved a prominent player in the league. you made it outside and walked further down the street to a empty bench far away from all the commotion from the party.

you open your purse and dig through to find your pack of cigarettes that you only smoked when you’re stressed or overwhelmed and desperate times call for desperate measures. you take one out of the pack with your pink lighter, igniting it. you take a long drag and inhale into your lungs, letting it calm your nerves as you exhale. your hands were trembling and your brain was going at a million miles per hour when joe sits next to you.

he looks over at you, his eyes softening at the shaken state you were in because of him. you stare at the cars and people walking by, “if you want to get me fired, that’s fine.” he shook his head, “i’m not going to get you fired or anything like that. you had a right to throw that drink in my face.” you took another long drag as you flicked off some of the ash beginning to build up on top.

you both sat in an uncomfortable silence until he decided to break it, “so you work in data analysis now?” you nod, “yes.. i don’t know how long after what just happened.” he sighed, “you aren’t going to get fired. plenty of people in this field have done worse and received no repercussions. i’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you don’t get in trouble for this.”

you shook your head, “you wouldn’t understand, joe. you’re a man, if you were in my shoes, you would face no punishment. but for me, it’s 100% a possibility that i can lose my job because of this. you’re a famous quarterback who i threw a drink in his face while i just work for the team.” you felt yourself growing to panic as you anxiously tap your fingers against your thigh, “it’s supposed to be this huge event and i feel like i would be a liability for that.”

he wrapped his arm around you, not caring about the smell of the cigarette lingering on his clothes. his free hand rubbed against your back soothingly, doing his best to calm you down. he reassured, “if anything comes out about it, i know a few people that can make it go away. as for the team, i’m going to talk to them about it being a misunderstanding.”

you looked over at him, “you don’t have to do that for me.” he said, “i want to, okay? i put you through so much pain and i want to make it up to you.” you didn’t notice a few stray tears flow down your face until joe tilted your chin with his fingers and wiped them away with his thumb. his ocean blue eyes stared deeply into yours, “i am so sorry. for everything.”

you flick the remains of your cigarette to the ground and let out a tearful sigh, “i haven’t loved anyone else since you. i don’t think i’m capable of feeling that way towards anyone.” your confession made his heart drop into his stomach. he remembered that night after you both graduated as if it happened yesterday.

as you slowly kissed him after settling into bed after that eventful day, you whisper against his lips, “i love you.” those three words made him stop kissing you. while you two had been dating for almost 6 months, he had no idea if he was ready to say it yet. while he was the #1 draft pick for the cincinnati bengals, you were able to obtain an internship for the denver broncos, which was going to 17 hours away from him.

you noticed his lips stopped moving against yours, you looked at him with concern. “are you okay, baby?” he let out a shaky sigh, “i don’t know if i’m ready for this.” you asked, “what do you mean?” he continued, “you’re going to be all the way in colorado while i’m in ohio. how are we going to make this work if i won’t be able to see you?”

you looked at him, taken aback. “well, we can always facetime and we can visit each other whenever we can.” he shook his head, “we’ll literally go from seeing each other every day to barely seeing each other at all. do you have any idea how hard that is for me?” you rubbed your face, feeling the skin in order to not shut down.

you bite back, “it’s going to be hard for me too! it’s not just about you, joe. we both have our own careers we need to focus on but it doesn’t mean that i don’t love you.” he gets out of your bed and grabs his backpack off your chair, packing up his clothes. “where are you going?” he opened up the drawer you cleared for him whenever he would spend the night with you, shoving whatever clothes that he can fit into the bag.

“i just need space. i’m just going to go back to my place for tonight.” you get up out of bed, standing in front of the dresser so he wouldn’t just leave. “we need to talk about this, joe.” he sighed, “what do you want me to say? that long distance relationships don’t last no matter how much we’d try? get realistic and stop romanticizing this.”

your voice cracks and eyes well up with tears, “so that’s just it then? you don’t want to be with me anymore?” he shrugged, “i really don’t see any other solution.” you nodded meekly, finally moving out of his way. “just get your shit and go.”

you leaned closer to him, burying your face into his neck. he wrapped his arms around you, inhaling his cologne, noticing it was the one you gave him for his birthday. he kissed your forehead gently, “we’re going to figure this out, okay?” you nod and pull away from his embrace, wanting to get a better look at him. he still had the same haircut from college and his cartier glasses were off, the streetlight capturing how beautiful his eyes are.

he stared back at you in awe, he still thought of you as the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on. he moved a couple strands of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, the gesture making you melt like putty in his hands. without a second thought, he leaned in and softly pressed his lips against yours, suddenly pulling away incase he misread any signals.

“i’m sor-“ you cut him off by kissing him passionately, your hand finding its home in the back of his head, running through his dirty blonde hair. while your other hand wandered under his plain white t-shirt, feeling his warm body against your manicured fingertips. he wrapped his arm around your waist while his free hand groping your left breast over your dress causing you to moan into the kiss, slipping his tongue inside your mouth.

his hand moves down to your plush thighs, giving them both a firm but gentle squeeze. his lips move away from yours, kissing down your jaw to your neck. your hand moves back to his hair, giving the roots a gentle squeeze, he lets out a breathy groan against you. his breath tickles your skin softly, his lips finding the spot on your neck that makes your squirm. he sucks against your sensitive skin causing you to mewl at the feeling of him sucking and biting your neck, leaving a bruise that you’re going to need to cover up later on.

he detached his lips from your neck to admire his work, lightly kissing the hickey he left on you, which made you wince. you both smile softly, taking in what just happened and how much you’ve missed each other. he asks, “do you want to head back to my hotel or yours?” you shrug, “it doesn’t matter to me.” he nods, “okay, we’re going to mine then.” he sat up, holding his hand out for you to take.

you hold his hand, allowing him to help you up from the bench and intertwining both of your fingers together. he said, “my hotel isn’t too far from here so it won’t be too long.” you nod, standing up on your toes and kissing his cheek. he blushed softly, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer to him as you walk to his hotel room.

as you walk closer to where he was staying, you began to slow down next to him as your feet began to grow tired in the heels you were wearing. he looked at you concerned about you slowing down, “is everything okay?” you nodded, “yeah, it’s just that my feet were starting to hurt.”

he squatted down onto the ground near you, he looked up and asked, “can you lift your foot up really quick?” you nodded, lifting your foot up off the ground for him as he held it delicately. he unhooked the heels clasp around your ankle and gently took off the heel for you. you lifted your other foot off the ground for him and he did the same thing.

he held both of your heels for you as he got up off the ground, dusting the dirt off his jeans. he asked, “do your feet feel better?” you smiled softly and nodded, “they do. thank you.” he smiled back and leaned down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. “you’re welcome, baby.” you laugh softly, “baby? are you getting all soft on me, burrow?”

he rolled his eyes playfully, “only for you.” he interlocked his fingers with yours, kissing your hand softly and leading the way back to his hotel. as you both walked through the lobby and inside the elevator, he pressed the fourth floor button and turned you over to face him as the elevator doors closed. he leaned down once more, kissing your lips once again, cupping your face gently in his hands.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as the kiss grows more intense when the elevator opens, signaling that you made it on the fourth floor. he grabs your hand and hurriedly pulls you outside the elevator and leads you down the hallway to his room. as you reach the outside of his door, he pulls the keycard out of his pocket as you lean closer to him and teasingly kiss his neck.

he shudders as he puts the card into the slot, “fuck, don’t tease me.” you smiled against his neck, “or what?” the light on the door turned green and he immediately opened it, pulling you inside. he grabbed the “do not disturb” sign and set on the door outside the room, shutting it behind him and locking it.

you set your purse on the desk and he threw your heels to the floor near the nightstand, lightly grabbing your wrist to get you to look at him. he feverishly kisses you as if his life depended on it, his teeth clashing against your own. you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth as his hands explored your body over your dress. he managed to say through kisses, “take this off.”

you nodded eagerly as he sits down on the corner of the bed, wanting to watch you undress for him. you slowly took off your dress, revealing your matching laced black lingerie set underneath. he took off his jacket and his necklaces as you undressed for him, throwing his jacket to the floor and setting his necklaces on the nightstand then turning over to face you again.

you decided to straddle his lap, pulling him into a needy kiss as his hands wander your body to the back of your bra. “can i take this off?” you smiled against his lips and nodded, “of course, baby.” his hands unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor as he looked at your breasts for the first time in years.

his hands caressed them softly causing you to let out a soft moan into his mouth. he looked down at them, his eyes widened slightly at the sight of your pierced nipples. “when did you get this done?” you blushed softly, “like two years ago.. do you like them?” he nodded, his fingers teasing the balled jewelry, making you shudder and whimper.

he takes your breast into his mouth, sucking on your nipple and teasing the jewelry with his tongue. you moaned softly, watching him lick and suck while you run your fingers through his hair. his free hand teases the other one as his mouth moves to it, giving them both the same love and recognition. you whimpered, grinding your hips softly onto his lap.

he detached his mouth from you as his hands held your hips, helping you grind against him and groping your ass. he captured your lips again in a messy kiss, his nose brushing against yours. “i missed you so much.” you whispered against his lips, “i missed you too, baby.” your fingers reach the hem of his t-shirt, him quickly obliging as he pulls it over his head and throwing it to the floor.

he quickly flips you both over, climbing over you and kissing down your neck to your chest. you shudder softly against his lips as he kisses down your stomach to reaching the hem of your panties. his fingers brushed over the damp cloth causing you to whimper softly and open your legs for better access for him. he asked softly, “can i take this off too, pretty girl?”

you nod eagerly, “please take them off.. i need to feel you.” he grabs both sides of your panties as you lift your hips up so he can easily take them off. he pulls them down your legs and reaches your ankles then throwing them to the side. his fingers brush over your wet folds as you mewl softly at the feeling of his fingers against you.

he bit his lip as he teasingly rubbed his fingers against you, “you’re so wet for me.. and i barely did anything. it’s kind of pathetic, baby.” you mewl at his words, not being able to take his teasing any longer. you begged, “please do something, joe. i need you so bad.” without hesitation, he opened your legs a little wider and buried his face between them. he kisses and teases your clit with his tongue causing you to let out a sigh and closing your eyes.

he tapped your inner thigh, “look at me, baby. i want you to watch me.” you opened your eyes and looked down at him as he suckled your clit into his mouth. you run his fingers through his hair and mewl loudly at the feeling of him slipping his tongue inside of you. he devoured you as if he hadn’t eaten in days, you moaned in satisfaction and contorting your face in pleasure as you watch him eat you out.

his tongue lapped against your wet cunt as you push his face closer into you, grinding against his tongue as if you’re riding him. he pulled your legs onto his shoulders as your thighs clench against his head, you whimper and grip his hair tightly causing him to moan as he kisses and laps up your wet arousal. the pit building in your stomach began to boil over until you’re writhing against his face. and arching your back.

he knew you were growing closer to your orgasm as your movements started moving sloppily against him. he asked, “you want to cum, baby?” he slipped his tongue inside you once more. you nodded, “yes, i’m so fucking close!” he urged, “beg for it. tell me how much you missed me.” you whimpered, “i missed you so much, joe. no one can make me feel as good as you.”

he smirked against you, “good girl. cum for me, baby. cum on my face.” you came undone at his words and the feeling of his tongue flicking against your clit. you moaned in ecstasy as your legs shook against his face as he continued you to guide you through your orgasm. you gasp and whine as the overwhelming sensation of his tongue curling inside you.

you whimpered, “okay, you can get off. please.” he moved his tongue out of you, his chin and mouth glistening with your juices. he pressed a few chaste kisses in your inner thighs before he finally moved out of between your legs. he leaned up closer to you, your legs wrap around his waist, his hard cock straining in his jeans and rubbing against your inner thigh.

he kisses you feverishly, slipping his tongue in your mouth. tongues and teeth clash against each other as the neediness between the two of you grew more intense. he pulls away from you and lightly pecks your lips, “you taste better than i remembered.” you blush, “you remembered what i taste like?”

he nods, “of course i do. you haven’t left on my mind since i left that night.” you sat up, kissing him softly as your hand reaches down and teases through his jeans by caressing your hand against him. he groans softly, shuddering at the feeling of your soft hand on the outside of his jeans. “you can take it out if you want. i don’t think i’ll last long if you keep rubbing me like that.”

you giggle lightly, “you got that hard from eating me out?” he said, “i got hard the moment i saw you again if you want me to be honest.” you peck his lips softly, “you’re so fucking cute.” your hand moved to the zipper of his jeans, unzipping and unbuttoning them. he pulled his jeans down to his ankles, kicking them off to the side, revealing his black calvin klein boxers.

you helped pull his boxers down, revealing his girthy, rock hard cock slapping against his abdomen as you free him from his boxers. you stroke it softly, your thumb feeling the slit of his tip as he lets out a sigh. “fuck, i missed your hands on me.” you asked, “oh yeah?” he nodded, “if you keep doing that, this is going to be over pretty quickly.” you laughed softly and moved your hand off him.

he rubbed his cock over your folds, making you both groan and whimper in pleasure. “if it hurts, i’ll stop, okay?” you nod feverishly, bucking your hips to match his movements. he slipped the tip of his cock inside of you, letting you slowly adjust to his size and so he can feel how warm and tight you are. you both let out a breathy moan, he slipped more of him inside you causing you to wince and him to groan softly. “fuck, i missed you.”

his thrusts were teasingly slow as he let you adjust to his size again since it was so long since he’s been inside you. you whimpered, “fuck me, joe.. please”. he moved his hips, thrusting a little faster causing you to moan softly in his ear. his lips nipped and sucked on your collarbone as you buck your hips into his to match his thrusts. he asked teasingly, “do you like that, baby?”

you nodded eagerly, “fuck me harder… i need it so bad.” he moved your legs over his shoulders as he thrusted deeper inside you. your knees were against your chest as he fucked you harder, the sounds of his skin slapping against yours and both of your moans filled the hotel room. both of you were lost in each other until the sound of his phone rang from the pocket of his jeans.

he groaned annoyingly at the dreaded sound ruining the mood as he moved out of you, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact. he quickly grabbed his jeans off the floor and took his phone out of his back pocket, swiping to answer it and holding it against his ear. “yeah?” he smiled softly down at you as his hands groped at your breast, rubbing his thumb over your pierced nipple.

he sighed, “no, dude, i left the party over an hour ago. what happened?” you mouthed, “do you want to stop?” he shrugged, listening to whatever ja’marr is asking him about. “no, i caught up with an old friend and we’re back at my hotel.” you smiled softly as you knew you were the old friend he was referring to. he laughed softly, “no, i’ll tell you about it later..” you grew more comfortable onto the bed as he finished up his phone conversation. “okay i’ll text you later.. get back safe.”

he ended the call and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, leaning down and kissing you hungrily. he asked softly, “do you want to keep going?” you nodded, “yes please.” he laughed softly, “aww, look at you using your manners.” he kissed the crook of your neck then pecked your lips, “such a sweet girl.” you asked shyly, “can i ride you?”

he nodded eagerly, lying down on the bed next to you. you crawled on top of him, kissing his neck teasingly. he lets out a soft sigh, running his fingers through your hair as you find the sensitive part of his skin, sucking and nipping the same way he did on the bench prior. his breath hitches, “fuck, don’t tease, baby.”

you giggled softly, detaching your lips from his neck before giving the forming bruise a small kiss, hearing a wince from him. you got up onto the bed, hovering over his cock while you line him up with your entrance. you sink down onto his length, hearing shudders and gasps from the both of you.

you start to roll your hips, his hands going straight to your hips helping guide your movements against his body. you whimper and moan as you close your eyes and throw your head back in pleasure. his hand reaching up and groping your tit as you ride him to oblivion. you had plenty of hookups after you and joe broke up but no one made you feel so full and satisfied you the way he did.

he laid up further, pulling you closer to him as he kisses you passionately. his hands gripped against your hips, probably leaving tiny bruises for you to wake up to the next morning. sweat began forming and dripping down from both of your foreheads as your legs started getting weaker. his hand giving your thigh a gentle squeeze as your movements began to slow.

the heat in your stomach was rising as you continued to move against him. his hands wandered and caressed your body on top of him. he cupped your face softly and lowly whispered, “open your mouth, baby.” you obeyed, sticking your tongue out for him as he spit in your mouth. you whimpered softly as you swallowed his spit causing him to groan at the sight of you. “you’re such a good girl.”

his words push you closer to the edge of your climax as you push through the soreness in your legs. your walls began to tighten around him causing him to let out a soft moan. you moaned, “i’m so close.” he grunted, “fuck, i am too. cum for me, baby. i want to feel you around me.” you loudly gasped, burying your face in his sweaty shoulder, biting down to muffle your screams. the feeling of your teeth digging into his skin and your walls clenching his length made groan and shudder as he fills you up with his cum.

you pull him into a slow, needy kiss as you both were steadily coming down from what just occurred. you get off of his lap, legs shaking from either your orgasm or how long you were using them for. you get up from bed and attempt to gather your clothes to get dressed when joe asks, “what are you doing?” you eyed him with confusion, “getting ready to leave?” he shook his head, “come lay down with me.”

you found yourself crawling back into bed with him before thinking it over, you were used to leaving after a hook up so him asking you to spend the night was something that you hadn’t heard in a long time. you cuddled into his chest as he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you, your leg draping against his hips. what you didn’t know was that joe rarely dated after you two broke up. he went on a few dates but always found himself thinking of you to fully pursue anything.

you felt yourself beginning to doze off but was fighting to stay awake so you can be in the moment with him longer. he whispered in your ear, “you can go to sleep.. i’ll be here when you wake up, okay?” you nodded sleepily as you finally shut your eyes, softly snoring on his chest. he gently moved your hair out of your face and kissed the top of your head as he watched you peacefully sleep. he never thought you’d actually end up in his arms again..

but now that you’re here with him, he finally felt he was whole again. his only regret was that it took him so long to realize that he loved you after you two broke up and you moved away.. he cooed softly in your ear as you slept, “i love you.” he gave you a kiss on your forehead before drifting off to sleep, being happy that you were back in his arms again.

[f1haaland]

Hello, first, I love you Fernando Alonso imagine, second, could you do a Fernando one where it's your birthday and have no race during the week and takes advantage of this to spoil you during the week and ends with having sex on his yacht after a candlelight dinner

𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 / 𝑭𝑨𝟏𝟒

pairing: sugar daddy!fernando alonso x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

author's note: i wasn't going to write this one now bc i have a couple of requests to write still, but it's my birthday week so it felt appropriate. happy birthday to me!

warnings: significant age gap (reader is 23, fernando is 41), pure filth, no plot just sex, unprotected sex btw, oral sex (female receiving), p in v, boat sex i guess but not really, NOT MEANT FOR MINORS

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators!! 🫶🏽

➜ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚 𝟏 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

this is a spin-off to this oneshot

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ༓  ༓ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

After 1 year together, things were working out amazing for you and Fernando. Surprisingly, not many people were judging your relationship, and the internet considered you his "controversial young girlfriend".

Your studies were doing great, your relationship couldn't be better, and you were living the life of your dreams.

Fernando had brought you to Monaco with him to celebrate your 23rd birthday. Of course, he had a home there, but you optioned to spend your special night with him on his brand-new yacht.

You had made him one simple request to him: "Do not buy me gifts." Fernando didn't took that very well, offended that he couldn't spoil the love of his life, but he did as you ordered. He had already planned a dinner for tonight, and in the morning you woke up to lots of different flowers in your room. He gets you new stuff all the time. You thought you don't an extra expensive souvenir just because you became a year older.

You wore a red dress and a ponytail, simple but chic, and just the way he liked. There wasn't a need to dress up for something made just for the two of you, but he enjoyed it when you made an effort to look nice just for him.

Blindfolded, he took you to the dock, where he had set a table dinner to candlelight for you. The dinner wasn't a surprise of course, but he had set the table all for himself just for you.

Dinner was going great, until...

"Shit!" You got startled by the loud sounds of explosions.

You turned your head to look behind you, as fireworks painted the skies in your favorite colors. You watched as hundreds of lights in drones flew over the sea, forming in different designs until they turned into the shape of a heart with your initials next to it. Fernando admired your surprised face with a huge grin on his own.

"Wait... is this for me?" You gasped at the realization, "Nano, you did this for me?"

"Everything I do is for you, mi amor" Fernando declared.

That was the biggest love gesture he has ever done for you. The first letter of your name was so big and bright in the sky you could bet the whole Monaco could see it. You hoped they could see just how much your man loved and worshiped you.

You never felt so turned on in your whole life.

You immediately forgot about the candlelight dinner. You got up and jumped in his lap. Fernando's hands gripped on your waist with his life, as your tongue battled with his in a wet and messy kiss. You bit his bottom lip and pulled between your teeth, making him groan hoarsely.

You worked your hips on top of his lap, moving forward and backwards, feeling his excitement start to grow beneath you. His palms slid down through your form until they reached your ass, grabbing it with such strength.

Fernando murmured against your skin, "What has gotten into you, corazón?"

He stood up, holding you to him. It didn't take long until you felt your body being tossed to the deck sofa.

"Don't ask, just fuck me" You begged, breathlessly.

You could have taken your dress, but the eagerness to be fucked screamed louder.

Fernando helped you out of your panties, opening your legs wide open so he could get a perfect view of your glistening wet cunt. His digits slightly brushed over it, teasing you. He planted sensual kisses all over your neck until he found an extra sensitive zone behind your ear lobe and focused on it. You gasped and whined helplessly.

"Look at you, so wet for me..." He taunted, leaving gentle bites on the curve of your neck.

You moaned as your small hand worked on top of the growing bulge inside his trousers. His shorts felt impossibly tight, and uncomfortably moist where the head of his cock was leaking.

Fernando proceeded to spread your slick arousal over your sensitive clit and rub you from side to side. You felt his erection get harder and harder under your palm. It was soon rock hard, but he didn’t seem to lose his composure. You, on the other hand, were a wreck.

His fingers were the most experienced you had ever had before. Even your own touch couldn’t compare.

"Is this what the birthday girl wants?" Fernando kissed your ear, drawing out a pleasured moan from you, "Beg me to fuck you, princess"

"Please nano, please" You tried to stifle your moaning when his knuckles disappeared into you.

He mocked, "Aren't you the cutest?"

Fernando got onto his knees in front of you, hiking up your dress to your stomach.

"Let me taste how desperate you are"

He didn't let you have time to process the sudden change of position, Fernando's mouth now worked where once his fingers were buried. Your fingers gripped his scalp, desperately needing to touch him. He brushed his thumb over your clit, circling that little bundle of nerves until you became a whimpering mess for him.

You tried to keep your moans and purring quiet. It was no easy task considering how damn good his wet tongue felt, moving in different ways on your warm core.

"Ah-ah, don't silence yourself, princesa. I want to hear your pretty noises." He taunted, flicking his tongue over your clit just to watch you squirm, "C'mon, be a good girl and do it again."

His voice sounding stern and seductive sent you into bliss, and erotic moans ripped your throat open just because he asked you to. Because just like the other way around, you'd do anything for him.

"Fuck, I'm so close!" You whispered out loud.

You bucked your hips towards him, fucking yourself on his finger and mouth. His hands held yours steady on your stomach, under the silky red fabric of your dress.

He slowed to a stop and removed his pleasurable fingers. You whined.

"Fernan–"

Hopping on top of you, Fernando grabbed your face between his hand and attacked your lips, silencing you with his own. He got in between your legs, and you felt something hard and velvety against your slit. Your heart pounded with the quick realization that it was his cock.

He rubbed his cockhead against your gushing slit while he whispered in your ear, "Make a wish, birthday girl"

"Fuck me, please"

He slowly thrust inside you, letting you savor every second of the pleasurable intrusion. You gasped. He filled you so perfectly.

Fernando groaned as he felt his dick ripping your walls open.

"Fuck, Nando!" You bit your lip hard, eyes turning to the back of your head.

You felt his hard length rubbing against every pleasurable spot inside you. The very walls of your pussy were alight with your once again approaching orgasm in a way you had never experienced before. Usually, it had to be your clit bringing you this much pleasure. This was even better.

"Fuck, you feel so good" He groaned against the crook of your neck, "like this pussy was made jus' for me. You were made jus' for me."

He growled with excitement and forcibly held your hands down on either side of your head, palms glued to each other, fingers entwined to his own. Even for his age, his stamina was relentless. You kept moaning and begging, and although you were incapable of any coherent thoughts, you kept eye contact, staring deep into those brown chocolate eyes that you so loved.

"Yes, sweetie, jus' like that. You're such a good girl" He murmured, his praisings driving you insane, "Come on my cock, love. Let it out for me."

Fernando's cock kept punching into you just right, reaching a fiery spot deep inside you. Your mind went blank. You felt a sweet, mind-blowing release spilling over. Your pussy simply gushed around him. His cock twitched inside you. A moment later he was moaning loudly in your ear. He thrust his cock a few more slow, firm times as you felt him come undone deep inside you.

He held himself deep but still inside you for a moment while he caught his breath. You were even more breathless than he was. Your every muscle relaxed into the sofa. You smiled like you couldn't help it.

Fernando kissed your ear. "Happy birthday, corazón."

liked by fernandoalo_official and 721,908 others

yourusername birthday dump. feeling 23.

[momodita]

snapshots. [—todoroki shouto]

TAGS / WARNINGS: pro hero shouto, gender neutral       reader, pining, lots of food talk (shouto feeds       reader a gyoza), pining, silly fluff WC: 1,000 NOTE: realizing i forgot to link the snapshots       masterlist but can’t do it now bc tungle       doesn’t update reblogged versions and       i’m a sucker for consistency… weeps…

Your mouth goes dry when the door swings open.

“You’re here early.”

It’s Shouto, inclining his head in a curious tilt. Outside air rushes in. Were it not for the mid-winter freeze, you would’ve thought he warmed you with his Quirk: eager blood pounding in your ears to accompany the rush of heat from your throat to your face.

Remembering to speak, you offer a smile. “I wanted to help set up.” There’s a scarf tucked neatly against his throat—a fluffy, well-kept material—not for its functionality, surely, but completing a cozy, well-prepared look nevertheless.

Behind you, Katsuki barks out his own type of greeting. “The fuck you standin’ there for, Icy-Hot? Get inside already. And no distractions.” As acting head chef of tonight’s hot pot party, he offers no leeway to kitchen loiterers.

“Sorry, you arrived right in the middle of dinner prep.” You watch Shouto remove and arrange his shoes by the foyer step. “We’re just getting everything ready for later.”

“This early?” he asks. The sweater he’s wearing looks large and comfortable without being too baggy. Complimenting it gives you an excuse to stare as he shrugs off his coat.

“Bakugou’s making sure we have enough,” you say. “Said it was easier before everyone arrives.”

“He’s doing everything himself?”

You chuckle. “He wrangled some extra hands.”

(Denki had fallen into Katsuki’s clutches after trying to usher everyone out of the kitchen, only to be put to work prepping carrots. Then he tried slipping away when he thought no one was looking; a mistake not to be repeated under Katsuki’s hawkish supervision.)

Shouto doesn’t break away to mingle with Izuku and Tenya setting up decorations around the living room like you thought he would. After his greetings, he wanders over to watch you prep bok choy at the counter.

“My important task,” you joke, tossing the leaves into a colander for washing.

“I can help.”

Bakugou scoffs. His knife clicks against the cutting board. “You can’t even cut chives correctly,” he touts. Beside him, Eijirou claps a hand on his back, grinning.

“Don’t worry, Bakugou. No matter how you chop bok choy, it’s tasty!”

Shouto doesn’t look bothered by the heckling—he never does—though you imagine it would take devastatingly little for him to unintentionally goad the blond into blowing up tonight’s dinner.

“Here,” you hand him a paring knife, “it’s kind of small, but we’re only cutting off the ends.”

Shoulder to shoulder with him, the warmth in your face is an adversary that refuses to abate: a habit you’ve never been able to kick, cemented over the years. Amid the aromatic broths is the scent of his cologne. Your nose can’t help but pick it out, and your brain can’t help but latch onto it.

“Look at the two of you, so hard at work!” Hanta chirps, saddling up with a plate of steaming gyoza. He waves some chopsticks. “A snack for your troubles.”

They look and smell incredible: the bottoms are perfectly golden and crispy, the thin wrappers clings to the filling, shiny and slightly translucent. Apparently Katsuki made the filling earlier that morning. He’d already been assembling them by the time you arrived, barking out corrections to Denki and Eijirou.

“Here, Todoroki—say ahh.” Hanta grins, picks up a gyoza. You stifle a laugh: bemusement rarely makes Shouto’s expression, but your chest always flips when it does. It’s endearing, too, the way his cheek puffs as he chews. Your head tips to try and hide the smile. Hanta nudges you with an elbow. “You too, ahh—”

“Oi! Flat Face, quit yappin’, the apples’re gonna brown if you leave ‘em out.”

“Coming, coming! So scary, Kacchan,” Hanta grins, leaving the plate of gyoza on the counter. “Juice is right there if ya want it.” He departs with a wave.

“Sero’s taking care of the snacks,” you explain. “Insisted on making apple bunnies.”

Shouto blinks. He’s staring at the plate of gyoza.

“They’re good,” he gestures, “you should try one.”

“I’ll be eating my fill when the prep is done, don’t worry,” you say. It’s a tempting thought: homemade gyoza are best when they’re hot. But prep is almost done, you can wait a minute longer.

Shouto, on the other hand, decides that is not the case. He picks one up with the chopsticks.

“Ahh.” Mimicking Hanta with a monosyllabic tone, he presents it with a completely blank expression. Your hand jumps to muffle the laugh that escapes; you almost angle away—a split second thought your body prepares to follow through with.

Realistically, though—selfishly—you know there won’t be another chance to monopolize his space like this when everyone else arrives. And the gyoza looks so good, it would be a shame to refuse.

With a murmur of thanks, you lean in. The outside has cooled some, but the filling has not. It’s savory and juicy. Your eyes squeeze shut with a satisfied, trilling hum.

“Hot.” You huff instinctively against your palm, reaching for a drink. “But good. Have you made gyoza before, Todoroki?”

Shouto’s eyes flutter a blink, chest expanding with a breath.

“Once,” he says, chin tilting. You’re almost too distracted by his eyelashes: the curve of them casting gentle shadows on his cheeks. “I tried to fold some with my siblings.”

“‘Tried to’, huh?” you muse, smile stretching easily. “How’d they come out?”

Shouto’s mouth quirks. “The ones that didn't have filling spill everywhere were alright.” You laugh. “And you?”

“I have a couple times. Not recently. The success… varied,” you admit, sheepish. “It takes more skill to make gyoza than I thought. You gotta have good technique to fold the wrappers—they look good when they’re uniform. Maybe your sister will teach you if you ask,” you suggest lightly, snapping apart bok choy leaves that weren’t separated by the knife.

“I will,” he says, and adds, “When I get better, I’ll teach you.” A little thrill dances up your spine.

“Yeah,” your chest is light, “I’d like that.”

[kairiscorner]

❝KEEPING SECRETS❞ — miles 42 x reader (part 1)

⋆✮↪ summary: he thought he was doing right by you by keeping you at a distance, by keeping you in the dark of everything he was doing. he thought it was right to keep his secrets... just so he wouldn't lose you. well, in the end, was it worth it? ⋆✮↪ pairing: miles 42 x gn!reader ⋆✮↪ word count: 1,864 ⋆✮↪ author's note: tbh, i wanted to make the idea about miles 42, not really bc of the angst but bc i wanted to write more about my other son, i don't feel like i make enough for him 😭😭😭also i'm sorry if the spanish is wrong, i'm not fluent, but if y'all are willing to correct me for it, by all means, please do! I HOPE Y'ALL LIKE THIS THOUGHHHH (reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

the line on the other end beeped, he never did bother to leave a voicemail to whoever called anyway. you set your phone down with a sigh as you stirred your drink mindlessly, looking at your phone, hoping that at least he sent a message, saying he got your call, even if he wouldn't ask why you called. you put your hands to your face and tried to calm down, collect your thoughts before doing anything rash. this was a normal occurrence for you two already, you always calling out for him or texting him, and you going completely unnoticed by him; and the worst part? he's been your boyfriend. for six months.

you wanted to watch miles walk in through the door of the restaurant and sit himself down across you, all so you could take your drink and splash it all over him, not caring what he'd say or think of you while you'd drench him. hell, maybe you'd even throw the cup at his face, but you felt bad thinking about that, you didn't want to stoop too low. besides... you loved him, you really did--and you knew he loved you, too, kind of. you knew the exact reason as to why he always misses out on dates with you, always leaves your calls unanswered and your texts unread, and it wasn't because he was cheating on you or catching up on any homework, no--it was because he was the prowler.

he was a vigilante, he was one criminals and authorities alike couldn't get their hands on--a cruel one, many would call him, ruthless--but not to you. he saved you from a band of crooks that were going to rob you of all that you had when you were heading home on your own one night, and the way the prowler held you, the way you heard his heart beat and felt the warmth throughout his whole body as he held you close to his chest, when he kept murmuring to you you're okay, you're okay... you never forgot that feeling. and when you met miles, when you two started dating and getting more close, more intimate... you were reminded of that feeling when the prowler saved you, when miles saved you.

but despite knowing his secret, you needed him to tell you. it was his secret, and you valued your boyfriend's privacy. he was entitled to his own secrets, as you were entitled to yours. but you wished he at least... could at least show up, could at least make time for you and be there for you when you needed him. and tonight was just that night, because tomorrow, you were going to be trying out for your school's varsity team; the stakes were high enough as it was already for you and you felt pressured, extremely pressed, to push yourself further than what you can already do now. miles promised you, weeks before this, that he'd be there for you--he'd be there when you needed him, he promised; but now, where was he?

you refused to wait for him any longer; you chugged your drink and with an irritated sigh, you left the restaurant behind you, fuming as you thought of what to tell him, what to ask him, how to tell him tomorrow that you... you were so disappointed in him. tomorrow eventually came, and you made your way through the flood of faces in the hallway, catching miles collecting his stuff from his locker, his back turned to the people passing him by. you grabbed him by his shoulder, glaring at him with an icy stare as you narrowed your eyes at him. "que pasa, cielo?" miles asked you with a raised eyebrow and a perplexed look on his face in response to your scowling, as if he had no clue as to why you were so infuriated with him. "miles, where were you?" you asked him in an exasperated tone, clearly exhausted, and clearly in need of answers.

not looking to anger you, miles looked away and murmured, "i was... helping my tio aaron fix up his car, no biggie." "i called your uncle aaron last night, he said you were sleeping." you pressed him as he shut his locker's door, not looking back towards you as he began to walk away to defuse the situation, at least, he thought it would defuse it. you were not having it, though, and followed him through the crowds of people that were passing you two in the hallway. "i slept because my tio made me do some heavy lifting, he insisted i should've gone to bed, that's all." he answered you back as he held himself back from getting any more agitated with this mountain of lies and excuses he's made for himself.

if you only knew just how much miles wanted to tell you the truth, how he wanted to be upfront and honest with you, tell you the real reason why he's been missing out on dates with you, not being able to answer your calls or texts, being unable to support when you need him, when he wants to be there for you... but being the prowler isn't just something he can quit, it's a job he takes up so no one else he loves, and especially not you, gets hurt or taken away from him.

you breathe in deeply as you try to put up with his crappy excuse again. "well, alright, but you never bothered to answer my calls? surely you would've woken up, right, your phone's always got its sound on. hell, you could've texted me, explained why you couldn't come, because i would've understood, i'd've understood if you just told me--" you said as you grasped miles' hand, but he was in no mood to face you right now. he wasn't angry nor disappointed in you, of course not; he believed you had every right to be angry, but miles was angry at... himself. he couldn't bear to have you face him, put up with him when he knew what he was doing wasn't enough to keep you happy. he yanked his hand away from your grasp and turned to face you, anger and fury filling his face.

"no digas cosas que no sientes! you don't mean that, not when you don't know anything! have you ever thought of that?!"

he yelled at you. he raised his voice at you.

...he really doesn't believe in you, does he?

miles panted as he tried to shake the simmering rage and aggression he was feeling off. he couldn't stomach it, the fact he should've been there with you that night, reassuring you, comforting you, supporting you like he promised--just being there to listen to you would've been enough, but he couldn't even do that. he felt like he was being tortured when he brought himself to look at you in the eyes, he didn't feel like he deserved you, of being loved by you. "cielo, i..." miles spoke as he tried to gather his thoughts, say he was sorry he snapped--but no words followed his quieting voice. his mouth was open, but no words came out. you looked at him in utter bafflement as the fact he spoke to you like that sunk in, piercing your heart like a dagger. all you wanted was the truth, the truth to come out of his own lips in his own voice by his own volition--but he couldn't even give you that without a fight, almost as if you didn't deserve the truth.

you realized it too late, and soon felt the hot tears rolling down your cheeks and staining your uniform's blazer and making small pools of tears on the floor. your lips twisted into a frown, the corners of your lips quivering as you sniffled back the tears, telling yourself to quit crying, but crying even harder as your inner voice got louder. "what am i doing wrong, miles?" you made out with a sob as your crying intensified, with the tears flowing faster and harder. "am i not... not good enough, not worth... not worth being given your time? i try to see things... from where you stand, but... how can i even begin to do that when you're not even... you're not even with me at all anymore?" you asked him in between your cries as miles looks at you, about to take a step forward and comfort you, but he stops himself. his eyes are filled with regret and shame for what he just did, what he just said to you.

the other students in the hall were drawn to the drama occurring between you two in the middle of the hallway, with some coming over to get a better look, others buzzing around for questions on who did what, what happened where and why. miles tried to open his mouth to speak, to say a word of apology, but his voice seemed stuck in his throat as he opened his mouth and closed it again. "i can't be with you anymore. we're done, miles." you said in a louder voice, which caused miles' heart to stop beating for a few seconds, benumbing him as he stepped back and was stuck in place, processing what you just told him. you ran off, away from everyone's stares, leaving miles alone there to reflect on what he just did.

miles tried to get himself to run after you, open his mouth and finally release the voice that longed to speak your name, call you and apologize a million apologies that would only be the tip of the iceberg. he did what he had to to keep you safe, to... keep you, but he ended up losing you in the process. he lost you because he didn't meet with you, he didn't keep his promise, he couldn't keep a single promise, which was why he couldn't even keep you.

the onlookers and bystanders eventually moved away and awkwardly filled in the silence that was left between you two with mindless chatter and murmuring. miles eventually came to his senses, partially, and slowly walked away from the spot he was frozen on after he let what just happened sink into him. he headed off to his first class with a murky and somber expression as he realized he lost you. he tried to conceal his despair and dejection, until ganke came up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "miles, are you--" "they left me." miles responded briefly, his voice quiet and hushed, as if to mask the utter sorrow he was experiencing. ganke gazed up at miles, who was now tearing up slightly, a few tears streaking down his cheeks. "they left me, ganke. i was... i was so... i wasn't doing enough..." he wept as he leaned against ganke, with ganke patting him on the shoulder as he walked him off to their first class. miles tread to class with a storm brewing in his mind, he couldn't focus on nor understand a single thing except for the fact that he's lost you.

but he won't give up that easily.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @solecitoszn @q2ie @anikaluv @zalayni

[justcallmesakira]

hihihihi AUGH i love ur work sm?!! omg if u can fyodor with a younger sister (she has the same level of intelligence of him and works in the doa and his organaization) who is dating dazai? :) I know there are some but i need crack and suggestive!!1

ty and er bye good luck take ur time!

"Fyodor with a sister dating Dazai''

Sypnosis: Your rat brother is anything but happy about the fact that you are dating his only enemy on earth! Good luck on surviving!!!

Genre: crack, suggestive at the end

Warnings: bombing, terrorizz, , mentions of maniupulative behaviour, mentions of verlaine, roblox radgoll, loads of simping words, me being down bad, making out (lol), your mom

A/N: my reqs are currently closed but ehhhh who cares lol also THIS WAS SO HARD TO WRITE HONESTLY- pls enjoy and reblog i tried my best--- *dies of mental ilness*

How bro-

JUST HOW DID U DO THAT W/O HIM BLASTING DAZAIS INTERNAL ORGANS? 🤯🤯🤯

No bcs fyodor did not even plan to let u meet dazai but ofcourse bcs of the dead apple tower and stuff and since then he had completly fallen inlove with you whether you are dostoevskys sister or not

He prob asked u to do a waltz with him in the mukokukokurokito or whatver the phuck that towers name was when you entered the castle with your brother

Fyodor WAS NOT happy because he saw the flirty glint in dazais eyes when u came

If looks cold kill-.. (KILL ME, RUSSIAN ZADD😍😍---)

And all you went was giggles and flirting back

Fyodor is prob gonna get his own medicine bcs they two are so like each other??? but he still couldnt believe how you with such high intelligence could fall for him???

(fyodor take your anemic medication first)

Dazai obv had some skeptics after you but like the manwhore he is and prob slept with the entierty of yokohama! ofc hes gonna court you as if you might not just use him!!!

Very (not) normal behaviour indeed!!

HELP YOU KNOW THAT ONE INDIAN RIZZLER VS. UWU CAT??? HES LITERLY THAT BUT

Dazai: "I fucked your sister she be screaming high pitch😈" fyodor: "What did you say, you little child i will crush your skull 😡😡😡should have known when i smile, I also play cello, i can be anything Уву"

that was UWU in russian btw-

But in all serious he will try maniupultaing you or gaslighting you into leaving dazai, he cant leave his only family to a man he does not trust! fyodor doesnt even trust himself-

fyodors gonna act a bit more colder then usual bcs of the fact HIS sister is dating someone and that someone is his enemy

Honeslty you go up to say chuuya whos like "why do i get deja vu-" *flashback to verlaine* you: "First time?"

But ofc since you are also extremely smart you somehow convinced him (after playing roblox radgoll with him for 8 hours) to let you atleast join date with dazai

I bet you rizzed up dazai by "He said his favourite colour was blue, so i blew him up😍💣"

*insert proud brother noises*

He speaks in russian or any slavic language whenever you three are in a gathering to mostly embarress dazai

I have seen some hcs on dazai being a collarbone biter so if you were off shoulder shirts and fyodor sees them by chance hes going to glare at you as if you are covered in mud :33

"Sister,,,what. is. that." *nasty side eye to the love bite on your neck*

Dazai 100% one time randomly pulled you into the alley and started aggresively making out with you with his hands literly sprawling all over your body like hes daddy long legs or sth-

Bcs HE KNEW that fyodor had cctv set in that part of the city and fyodor would be raging at the fact that the sluttiest man is touching his precious sister like that

bros gonna forgot abt human rights- oh wait hes russian

IF HE EVER CATCHES YOU TWO THO--

Like making out on some bed or sth hes actually no LIKE ACTUALLY GOING TO throw a whole ass cabinet at dazai with a face full of nothing but malice-

"How dare, an inhuman animal like you touch my very sister" "BRO CHILL I AM YOUR BROTHER-IN-LAW--"

And your just trying to stop your brother from commiting murder even though that his hobby ^^

fyodor finally forgot he had anemia bcs now all his focus was to give dazai the most painful death know to the medieval period\

Good luck on stoping your brother from poking a fork in your lovers eye in family dinners!!

A/N: guys ik i am doing the valentines req pls be patient i am trying my best!! i have a relly bad mental health rn so yeahhh-

Divider crds!: @cafekitsune

tags! @silverbladexyz @biscuits-lovely-corner @riiwrites @heartsfourdazai @tojifile @atsquie @atlasnessie @chuuyasboner @yosanosboner @ruanais @darling--angst

[bunnyhoney111]

hot and bothered.

♡ eddie munson x fem!reader

desc.: you smoke with eddie every night, but tonight’s different when eddie asks to play a game.

warnings: mutual masturbation, fingering, handjob, squirting, uhh i mention pubes like a lot because there’s something wrong with me, established friendship, admission of love.

request: ‘hi, i want to request some smut with Eddie Munson. They're friends, just laying in bed together, smoking weed and talking, when he asks the reader to tell him a secret, something no one else knows. So reader confesses she thinks about him when she masturbates, especially about his fingers and rings. I'm literally on my knees for this man.’

a/n: i was high when i got this request and got the sudden urge to write, please reblog and comment or ill pee on your bed and have it looking like eddies (with love). you can tell i started sobering up as the writing gets progressively worse bc i write better high for some reason. reader is 18, duh.

“i’m dying man,” eddie says, closing the door to his room behind him as he trails behind you. you slumped onto his bed, immediately nuzzling into the filthy yet comforting sheets where you’d spent most of your free time. “’s fuckin’ hot.”

“yeah, too bad you pushed your window unit right out into the grass.” you rolled on your side to face him at the door.

“shut up,” he chuckles, going to his dresser and rummaging through the drawer to find his own personal stash of flower. when he turns to you, his shoulders slumped and he let out a breathy laugh upon finding the glass jar and your favorite of his bowls, a beautiful hand-blown one with soft green and deep purples swirled through it resembling fluorite, already ready on his night stand.

“what can i say? you’re predictable.” you fixed yourself against his head board crossing your hands over your chest.

“i would hope after, what, 15 years? of friendship you’d learn my mannerisms. however, i think you’re just a stoner trying to project on me so you cant be ashamed.”

“shut up,” you giggled. he grabbed the grinder from the dresser and plopped himself next to you on the edge if the bed. he plucked a few buds from the jar and began to grind them, “new ‘shipment’ i think you’ll enjoy your mind getting absolutely fucked in a few minutes.”

he packed a nice big bowl to split between the two of you, offering you the first hit and the blue transparent lighter he kept in his pocket at all times.

you took it from his hands swiftly, thumbing the hole and taking a hefty hit. holding the smoke for a few seconds, you let it roll from your lips up to the ceiling. you hit it once more before handing it to eddie.

“thanks for saving me some, sweetheart,” he hits it, a big one just like yours, and smiles as he blows it directly into your face.

“asshole.”

your roll your eyes and wait patiently for him to pass it back to you. when he does, he speaks, “how’d your date with whats his name go?”

“mm shit,” you say while blowing the smoke out. “terrible conversation to be honest, he only spoke about sports and some game friday.”

“the homecoming game, you going?” he asked, his eyes droopy and pink as he fidgets with his fingers.

you shook your head, mumbling something offhand about it being packed and sweaty even in the fall air.

“plus, why root for a team of douche bags at a school i’m only a few months from finally escaping.”

“mm yeah, i see.”

there was a comfortable silence as eddie finished the bowl and set it aside. both of you beginning to feel the effects of the high. eddies face was flushed, yours warm to the touch, and you were becoming antsy for entertainment.

“wanna play a game?”

you turned to face him, smiling at his childish antics, but you were interested.

“sure, what did you have in mind?”

he turned his head and smiled, “let’s tell our deepest darkest secrets?”

“okay, you’ve humored me, but you first.”

he thought for a moment, “when i was young, about twelve or thirteen, i used to steal my uncles liquor and replace it with flat diet coke.”

you snorted, remembering one of the times wayne had took a swig of his jack and spewed it saying it must be bad, not even remembering to suspect eddie in his state.

“he’d kill you if he knew,” you giggled again.

“okay, you’re turn little lady. what’s your deepest, darkest, most shameful secret?” he looked at you expectantly, his eyes were piercing but soft and tired looking in the yellow lamp-lighting. his jaw was baby smooth, not a trace of stubble but still looking manly as ever. his cheeks looked doughy and pliant in the soft expression he wore, his face relaxed.

“you’re pretty,” you exhaled, continuing to absent-mindedly observe his features.

“that’s not a secret, sweetheart.” you felt your thighs clench at the nickname, arousal sopping out of you into your underwear. this was some good fuckin’ weed. the room was sweaty and your skin was sticky.

“seriously, tell me your secrets, i’ll guard them with my life.” he placed his hand on his chest dramatically making you smile.

you could blame it on the weed, but your ability to lie had suddenly left your body as you too became pliant to his questioning under the effects of the ‘mind-fuck’ inducing weed and also his pondering gaze.

“at night, when im alone,” you pause, shifting in your seat and looking directly into his eyes. as if you’re anticipating a reaction or indication of something on his face before you even reveal the secret.

“when nobody’s home, and i’m in my room. i think about you,” you pause again to let out a breath but not long enough for him to speak, “i think about you and i touch myself.”

his mouth closes, and he seems surprised, as much as he can in his state of tranquility and euphoria making his eyes close slightly.

“huh,” you expect anything but that to come from his mouth.

“what did you say? like, did i hear you right?” he asks scanning your face now, looking for a hint of a joke, sarcasm, lightheartedness, anything to disprove what he’d thought he heard.

“i- uh, i think about you, like, doing stuff to me. but not always that,” you move your eyes down to his hands rested on his midsection, fiddling with the rings on his long fingers, alluring and thick with blunt fingernails coated with chipped black nail polish.

“sometimes its just your hands, and it’s enough to have me,” another pause as you gulp, “soaked.”

he squeezed his eyes shut, neck rolling back to face forward as he groaned.

“are you fucking with me? cause if you’re fucking with me, i’m like really high right now and i get horny when i’m high and you fucking with me isn’t helping.” his mouth ran and ran til he was out of breath and looking back towards you, now looking back into his eyes.

“i’m not fucking with you, i don’t know what’s in this weed but, fuck, me too eddie. can’t stop thinking about your hands- y’fingers inside me. it’s driving me crazy. seriously is there truth serum in this shit? i should stop talking-“

another loud grunt cuts you off, you’re eyes drop to the throbbing hard-on he had in his jeans. “please don’t stop talking.”

he slides a hand down to grope himself through the denim. his eyes closed again, “i guess it’s my turn.”

“i have a question, actually.” you paused, tracing one of the fresher looking stains, small and near the top of the bed, only washed out maybe a day ago from the looks of it.

“what, exactly are the stains on your bed,” you laughed, breaking some of the palpable tension in the room.

“mostly bong water, maybe piss from when im drunk, but uh-“ he shifts again trying to get some relief from his aching erection.

“some of them, are from nights i spent thinking about my fingers in you, working you til you drop dead on the mattress in sheer pleasure.”

his words ripped a whimper from your throat, where did he get this grammar? then you’d thought maybe he’d gotten his knee weakening vocabulary from his eccentric dnd campaigns, overly wordy and dramatic to set the medieval mood.

“god please, fuck- uh can you,” he paused, almost looking nervous for what he was about to say, “can you show me?”

you choked on your breath, did he mean what you think?

he noticed your shock and immediately went into defensive ramble mode, “i just wanted to see, to see you touch yourself. i wanna see you, up close, i’ve been dreaming about this for years.” he briefly remembers the sleepless nights as a teen, fisting his cock to the thought of your body under him, until he was in tears from cumming over and over and over…

“you’re just so fucking sexy, shit, seeing you in a swimsuit all summer killed me. i just wanna see that pretty pussy, so so bad.” why did he have to look so hot, begging to see you all spread out for him, his ringed hand gripping himself through his jeans.

“shit, okay,” you moved to rest further down on his pillows, shaking hands slowly moving to take off your jeans. your head was so fuzzy, your body warm and slick with sweat from the delicious combination of the high and your arousal. your underwear had an embarrassingly sopping patch on the front.

“fuuuuck, okay that’s hot,” he said, unbuttoning his own jeans. he slipped his hand below the waistband of his boxers, anticipating your next move, watching you closely.

you slid your hand inside and swiped a finger through the arousal before remembering the whole point of this was for him to see. you grip the hem of your underwear, tugging it down to your calves, legs falling open and allowing him a front row seat to the show.

he rested his hand on your inner thigh, splaying his fingers out and further opening your legs. he had a curious look on his face as his rings left cold, branding, dents in your thigh, urging you to continue.

you returned your hand to your throbbing cunt, fingers running through the coarse hair and spreading your puffy lips to show the slick leaking out of you. his fingers gripped harder and his nostrils flared as a heavy sight left him. he licked his lips and with his left hand, began to pump himself in his boxers.

you trailed one finger down to your hole, coating it and bringing it back up to rub small, slow circles on your clit. a whimper tugged at your lips as you finally gave your body what it craved, your eyes training to where he was rubbing himself under his pants.

“i wanna see,” you almost whispered, voice soft and small, filled with fear of rejection.

you pulled your hand from yourself and reached over to grab his wrist, leaving wet finger prints there, making him moan softly. what a perv, you thought, getting excited from just the feeling of your arousal on his forearm.

“yeah, ‘s only fair hm?” he questioned offhandedly, pulling his jeans and boxers down to rest around his thighs, his cock softly springing up and resting on his clothed lower stomach. he was big, but not too big, on the thinner side but long and uncut with unruly curls at the base, climbing up to meet his happy trail.

your mouth was watering watching him grasp it in his left hand and returning his right to your thigh, nodding as a signal for you to continue.

your fingers went back to work, switching between rubbing slow circles on your clit and circling the hole you’d left untouched. the sick sounds of his grunts and slick hand rubbing his dick spurring you to move faster, urging you closer to the cusp of your orgasm.

“fuck, eddie,” you whined out, eyes shutting tight and your head falling back. he moaned softly and you heard him shift, but didn’t open your eyes, chasing the brink of relief.

when you felt his hand push your own away and, with no hesitation, replace it wish his, you could have swore you’d felt your eyes bulge out of your head. you turned your head swiftly to him, his hips desperately fucking into his hand and his other is on you.

his eyes are heavy and looking deeply into yours as his mouth opened again to release a moan, much louder than before.

but that was nothing in comparison to the feeling of his middle finger finally breaching your soaked hole, curling to reach that spot and briefly touching it. your head was spinning, his finger sliding out and slipping right back in, his cold ring resting against the brink of your tight hole, soothing some of the heat as he curled his finger again.

“this is, literally, my wet dream,” he spoke through grunts and sighs. his dick was throbbing in his hand, trying to hold out for you, the head of it painfully red and weeping precum that he messily smeared over his length with each stroke.

you decided to be merciful and return the favor, your hand already dripping from touching yourself, you reach over and grip him at the base. his hand stilling at the tip and pulling away to grip the sheets.

you do an experimental squeeze before stroking all the way to his cloaked tip and then pulling back down to reveal the leaking head. tears are welling in his eyes from the intense pressure of holding back his release. you dip your hands down to fondle his balls, making him curse and cry your name.

he continued to thrust his finger in and out, curling occasionally, before adding a second. the palm of his hand ground down on your clit as you lifted your hips to his rhythm, fucking yourself onto his hand. you could feel yourself getting close, and you knew he could too as he sped his fingers up and began fucking into your fist at a slightly faster pace.

“i’ve been wanting you, ever since i was old enough to know how. one year you went to summer camp and came back in august with tits, thats when i knew it was over for me. i don’t think i’ve been able to sleep without thinking about fucking you into oblivion since.” he was rambling yet again, babbling on to distract himself from the burning in his stomach as it sucked in and became concave, he was extremely close. in fact, he was there, but he was determined to have you cum first.

“you can cum eddie, ‘m so close. just let go,” you encouraged him but he shakes his head earnestly.

“fuck, fuck- no, i can hold off just hurry,” you chuckled but the laugh was cut off with a gasp as he plunged his fingers faster and harder, hitting that spot every time. there were stars in your eyes, head thrown back and you let out an impossibly loud, pitchy moan. you felt a gush between your legs, becoming lightheaded and unintentionally gripping eddie harder.

“shit- ah, i’m gonna-“ hot spurts of his ejaculate hit his shirt-clad chest, and runs down your fingers as you stroke him one last time, milking him for every drop. your hand fell against him, resting on his pubic bone as your fingers absent-mindedly played with the hair.

god, you were fucked out from his fingers alone. he gently pulled them from you, the sound making you cringe but the feeling of emptiness making your walls flutter around nothing. you watched him bring his fingers to his mouth, sucking them obscenely with a quiet grunt.

he leaned over towards you and you flinched away, still reeling from the orgasm wrecking your body. he stopped and looked down, nervous again as if he wasn’t just finger fucking you within an inch of your life.

“sorry, i didn’t mean- well i guess i just thought that i could, i don’t know, maybe kiss you but if that’s too intimate i understand-“ but you cut him off with a giddy laugh, you were clearly still stoned out of your mind as your head swayed side to side and giggles erupted from your throat.

“no, no eddie ‘s alright i promise, just thought you were gonna touch me again and im out of commission,” this time he laughed too, taking note of your shaking legs and the new stain drying into his sheets. he did good, he thought to himself.

“you can kiss me,” you rest your cheek against the pillow and smile at him, eyes finally opening and taking in his form. his hair slicked to his forehead, face flushed, and the pearly cum drying to his shirt.

he leaned back in, slowly, and then dipped his head to kiss your neck. he left small, wet, kisses; trailing from your collarbone to your jaw. he placed a kiss to your forehead, and then finally placed a kiss to your waiting lips. it was soft, almost chaste and void of any sexual intentions, just full of love and desperation for your own love.

you kissed back, bringing a hand to rest on his jaw as he finally pulled away and looked into your eyes.

“i think i’m in love with you,” his voice held no sign of humor as he eagerly anticipated your response.

“i think i’ve always been in love with you, munson,” you kiss his lips one more time before pulling away and fully removing your underwear, using them to carefully clean yourself up and then flinging them to the floor. eddie removed his jeans, pulling his boxers back up and tucking his now soft length away. he pulled the messy shirt over his head, disposing of it in his hamper, and turned to fully face you as he pulled his comforter over your bodies.

you now donned only an old band shirt, and eddie his red and black flannel boxers as you slinked your arm under his and wrapped it around his midsection. he wrapped his over your shoulder and placed a kiss on your temple, whispering soft slurs of ‘i love you’ and other precious sweet nothings.

“so, for the last 15 years of friendship, i’ve been nuzzling into piss, spunk, and bong water?” you asked, causing him to let out a hardy laugh, shaking your body along with his.

“mm, yeah i guess,” he chuckled, then upon shifting his leg and feeling a slight damp spot near the middle of his bed, “add ‘super hot girls squirt’ to the list and you’ve got it down pat.” you shot him a look.

“i squirted?” you asked in disbelief, one round had never had you cumming that hard on your own. eddies skills on the guitar really paid off when it came to fingering, you guessed.

“fuck yeah, and it was the hottest shit i’ve ever seen. never told me you were a squirter,” he sounded proud of himself, his smile gleaming as he looked down at you humorously.

feeling the need to knock him down a peg, you mocked his giddy tone, “you never told me you’ve never seen a razor, or even scissors. jesus eddie, i think my hand’s got rug burn.”

his ears got hot and he covered his face with his hand, “shut up.”

“kidding eds, i think its hot. totally fits the whole rocker thing you’ve got going on up here.” your reached a hand up to coil one of the soft tendrils of hair around your pointer finger.

he removed his hand and smiled down at you again, “you think my pubes are hot, fuckin’ freak.”

he kisses your head again, before leaning over to turn the table lamp off and pulling you even closer to him.

“goodnight, sweetheart.”

[babyhatesreality]

What if maybe stucky had a day off for the first time in awhile and they planned on spending it w/ reader. She was really looking forward to it. But maybe one of the caregivers asked them to watch their little for the day last minute bc they were called away on a mission. Stucky accidentally ignores reader all day and just really hurts her feelings. Maybe they spoil the other little let them pick the movie and lunch etc. How would they make it up to reader?

-M

Hi M! First off, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH for being so patient. I'm so so sorry it has taken me so long to get to your amazing thoughts and questions. So let's dive in <3

What A Day

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x little f!reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, pet names, language, anxiety, very upset Peter (but not at reader), angst, misunderstanding, frustrations, scolding, threat of punishment, tears, fluffity fluff fluff fluff, everything gets worked out in the end because I always need a happy ending.

A/N- not my best writing style, I'm sorry, words are hard right now. But I love you all and want to try to get these requests out for you all, so I hope you like it anyways.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. 

Today was the day! You were all set to spend the day together, just you and your daddies. You were so excited, you had been looking forward to it for the longest time. You all had tried to plan stuff before this, and something always came up. Every time. But not today! No way, not today!

Until it did.

Tony and Pepper received a very-last-minute summons to the White House to 'discuss some urgent matters' as Pepper put it or bail their asses out, as Tony put it. There was no way they could bring Peter, who was feeling extra little and clingy, so Steve, seeing their panic, volunteered to take him for the day, since you'd all planned on being at home anyways and the rest of the team were out on assignment.

You were a bit disappointed, but Petey was your best friend in the world, so this was going to be fun, right? Well......

When they dropped Peter off, he was definitely in a littler headspace than you had even seen him. He was crying hard in Steve's arms as Tony and Pepper left (both trying their hardest not to well up).

You tried to help, patting him on the leg and offering him Emma Bear or Pipsqueak to hold, but he didn't want either of them and tried to bat your hand away.

This shocked you a bit, but Bucky picked you up and whispered in your ear that Peter just needed a little extra attention right now. You nodded in understanding, and as soon as Bucky set you back down, you set off to your playroom, determined to find things to make him smile.

When you got back though- your arms full of toys and stuffies that you knew he'd like- you were a bit surprised to see both Steve and Bucky on the couch, side by side, comforting and holding Peter. You dropped your toys on the floor, wanting to come be a part of the cuddle party, but the noise scared Peter who started to cry again.

"Baby, you need to be more careful," Steve scolded very gently, knowing you hadn't done it on purpose. "I know you're trying to help, but Peter doesn't like loud noises right now. Please go put your toys back."

You started to protest that you had only picked out toys to be nice, but Bucky cut you off. "Go put 'em up, love, you heard Papa." It was a gentle tone, but you knew better than to try to argue.

Trying to be quiet, you carefully put them back slowly. But every time you came back to the room, you eyed your daddies meaningfully, hoping they'd ask you to be a part of the cuddle party, but they were so focused on keeping the little boy calm that they missed it entirely.

Once you were done, you quietly came over with Pipsqueak, holding him out to Peter, who took him, but turned his face back into Steve's chest. Feeling both frustrated and a little jealous, you said, "You s'posed to say 'tank you'." Peter just whined in reply.

This time, Steve looked at you sternly. "Baby, please don't upset Peter right now. He's feeling very little and needs quiet."

"But he didn't say tank you and you always say I gotta use my manners..."

Bucky picked you up before you caused Peter to start crying again, and started carrying you down the hallway to your playroom. "Listen up, angel, Peter is too young and upset to remember manners right now, and you're being loud when we've asked you to quiet down. Why don't you stay and play in here for a while until Peter is feeling better?" He set you down in the playroom and quickly shut the door before you had a chance to say anything.

You felt like you were being punished, even though you'd never get to stay in your playroom with all your toys when you were actually being punished. But you couldn't help but feel that way. Your daddies weren't spending any time with you now, and your bestie was treating you like you were mean, and it wasn't fair at all.

Bucky came to get you about an hour later for lunch. You were disappointed when you found that lunch was already made, because you loved it when you got to stir the mac and cheese. But when you were eating and Steve started telling Peter what a good job he'd done stirring, you got mad.

You shoved yourself off your chair and got exactly one step away before Bucky picked you up and plopped you back down. "You haven't been excused, little girl," he said a bit sharply, getting tired of your antics. You glowered as once again you were being asked to have manners when Peter didn't have to. Bucky made you sit there until all your lunch was eaten, which was well after Peter and Steve finished theirs and left to go watch a movie together.

You got even angrier when they picked a different movie than the one that you all were supposed to watch today, but you were still stuck in your dumb chair and couldn't do anything about it. Bucky had to threaten you with a time out and early bedtime before you finally finished eating. And once you did, he gave you a little talking-to about your attitude before taking your hand and bringing you over to the couch to watch the movie with them.

What you saw when you got there stopped you cold.

Steve had wrapped Peter up in your special yellow weighted blanket. Now, normally this wouldn't be a big deal, as you always wanted to share with your bestie, but this was YOUR special blanket for when you were feeling upset or overstimulated or needed comfort- and right now, you were definitely feeling all three.

"Dat's my special blanket," you said, pointing and mumbling. You didn't want to be loud or 'keep having an attitude', but this was just too much.

The look of disappointment in Steve's eyes hurt your heart. "Honey, we share in this house," he said, making you feel even worse. "You know that."

You couldn't stop the tears from overflowing at this point. "I alweady gave him my whole day!" you sobbed, before turning around and running to your room. You didn't slam your door- you'd only get in more trouble- but you pushed it mostly shut before diving into your stuffies, pulling Jellybean in close, and continuing to sob.

You heard a soft knock on your door a few moments later. "Baby, it's Daddy. May I come in please?" You only buried yourself deeper into your furry friends, afraid that Daddy was going to scold you again.

Bucky slowly opened the door, and his heart shattered at seeing you crying into all your stuffed animals. "I'm gonna come in, okay?" he added softly, stepping forward gently. If you really didn't want him in there, he would leave, but as you gave no indication one way or the other, he came in quietly and sat on the foot of your bed.

Once your tears and sobs slowed down, you risked a peek at Daddy in between Jellybean's soft fluffy ears. His face broke into a sad smile once he saw your red eyes. "Hey there, Trouble," he said gently. "Can Daddy hold you please?"

You didn't want another talking-to about your attitude, so you obediently pushed yourself up and crawled over to him. But when he pulled you onto his lap and cuddled you to his chest, like he did when he was comforting you, you suddenly realized that you weren't in trouble- that he really did want to just hold you. And the tears started all over again.

Bucky just held on, rocking you gently, rubbing your back, squeezing you tight when the tears turned into sobs, pressing soft kisses onto the top of your head. Once you cried yourself out, he plucked a tissue from the bedside table and held it to your face so you could blow. He mopped you up, still cuddling you all the while. "I'm really sorry you didn't get your day with us, Trouble," he said softly. "And I'm sorry that Papa and I were so focused on Peter and didn't see how upset you were. We weren't very nice to you today, were we?"

Sniffing mightily, you rubbed your nose with the back of your hand, resting your tired and aching head on Daddy's chest. "You was twying to help Petey. I sowwy I was bad and loud and mean," you mumbled.

"Baby, you were NOT bad or mean. You were loud, but that's just you- and we like you that way," Bucky said, finally grinning, which made you giggle. "I know that you were trying to help, and I'm sorry that I didn't have the patience to see that, and that we left you on your own today when we were trying to take care of Peter. So how about this? You and I can take some R&R together right now, just you and me, and then we can figure out everything else afterwards?"

Absolutely exhausted, you just nodded, falling asleep in Daddy's arms before he could even lay you down. And true to his word, he stayed with you for your whole nap, cuddling you and running his fingers through your hair.

After you all had naps, Peter was feeling much better, and the four of you played legos and dinosaurs in the living room until Tony and Pepper came home. It was a relief to Bucky and Steve, who had quietly worried that this was going to mess up Peter's and your friendship. But as always, after a good nap, things seemed brighter and you both were back to the giggling troublemakers you usually were, playing happily and noisily until Peter went home.

After you all had eaten supper, Papa cuddled you on his lap, apologizing too, and the three of you had a really good talk (with you still in younger space) about all of you feeling jealously, frustrations, and angry feelings, and being safe to calmly tell each other. They also helped work out some hand signals for you in case you went non-verbal or couldn't find the right words to tell them how you were feeling. You felt like a much happier baby after new ways to help you express yourself, and gleefully accepted Papa's cuddles all night (since Daddy had gotten them all to himself during nap time, he argued it was his turn).

The next day, Fury had blocked every single message to your daddies as well as access to your floor (barring emergency protocols, but ya know) making sure that you all truly had the whole day to yourselves. Daddy made your favorite cinnamon and sugar french toast for breakfast, which he fed to you bite by bite while you wiggled with energy.

The three of you went to your favorite quiet park out of the city, where you joyfully screamed down the slide, scrambled up the net ladder, giggled rocking back and forth on the bouncy animals, and had a contest with your daddies to see who could swing you the highest. THAT was the best.

You had a picnic lunch and had a blast bouncing back and forth between your daddies, insisting on feeding them blueberries one at a time. For some reason, that absolutely tickled you to no end, and you ended up laughing your head off the entire time. You fell asleep in your seat on the way home, and woke up in your bed. You found your daddies and the three of you drew pictures and colored together, then made a blanket fort in the living room for later.

Papa let you help him make dinner, and while it wasn't stirring- mac-and-cheese, it was still really fun. And then they both surprised you with being able to make a batch of your favorites- chocolate chip cookies! Right after the cookies cooled just enough, you FINALLY got to watch your movie, snuggled in between the two of them in your blanket fort, munching on the delicious treats.

Papa gave you a bath, letting you pick out both bubbles and a bath bomb, and Daddy put on your lotion and helped you pick out jammies and your nighttime books. You fell asleep in the crook of Bucky's arm, safe and warm, the three of you now more bonded than ever.