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#sheet(y) jokes
punsmaster69 · 1 month
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24/MAR/20XX
i've been sitting in the same uncomfortable spot for about fifteen minutes.
it's uncomfortable because it keeps moving.
to get more comfy, i tried to adjust a pillow... but the spot complained immediately.
"You're gonna give away my hiding place!!"
a hand shot out of the gap in the blankets created from moving that pillow, snatching it back.
"shoulda picked a better spot, if you're that worried about me blowing your 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 operation, here."
"I was here first, boneman."
"my couch, my rules."
"There are other seats!"
"yeah."
"So?? Move???"
"nah."
"this is the most annoying place for me to sit."
"so, uh."
patting the now-irritated conveniently-shaped blanket pile.
"i'm not movin' an inch."
"BRo-"
"Actually."
"You might help me blend in."
"here, lemme help more."
i leaned all my weight backwards against the wrapped-up child. this was met with noises of complaint.
"MooOveee!!!"
"You're crushing me!"
"maybe 'help' was too much of a 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘵 statement for what i was gonna do."
"Agh!!"
"Not like this!"
frisk kicked both of their socked feet out and against my back; knocking me forward off the couch. there was a loud 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩 as i hit the floor.
decidedly, getting up is too much work, so i flip onto my back and just stay there.
that is, for about two minutes. the front door swings open and papyrus appears above me.
"SANS!"
"heya."
"WHY ARE YOU-"
"so pil𝘭𝘰𝘸 to the ground?"
"...ON THE FLOOR?"
"fell. didn't bother getting up."
"UGH!! GET UP! QUIT BEING A LAZYBONES, THE COUCH IS RIGHT THERE!!!"
"eh, too far."
my legs were still on the seat partially.
"IF YOU DON'T GET UP, I'LL MAKE YOU."
"is that supposed to be a 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥? 'cuz that's fine by me if you wanna help me with blan𝘬𝘦𝘵-ting up."
papyrus rolls his eyes and scoffs.
"FINE. BE ON THE FLOOR."
"I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR..."
he picks up the blanket frisk was under and drops it on my face.
"𝘚𝘏𝘌𝘌𝘛 RIGHT NOW."
"I HAVE A HUMAN TO FIND!"
"NYEHEHEHEHEHEHEH!!"
cackling at his own joke, papyrus spins out the door without noticing frisk at all, despite uncovering them himself.
"....heheheh."
now i'm the one cackling, looking at frisk's shocked face.
"that's quite the look."
"you've heard him say that word before, y'know."
"There's about three different things contributing to this."
"Mostly..."
"He didn't see me???"
"nope."
"....?????"
groaning, i finally sat upright. after getting onto my feet, dramatically draping the blanket back over frisk like a tablecloth is the first thing i did.
i tossed myself onto the couch seat beside them.
"gonna keep hiding?"
"Game's not over yet."
"well. if he comes back in here, your luck might not be as good the second time. if you really wanna win..."
"probably best if you find yourself a new spot."
this seemed to snap them out of their shock, as they set off with a determined constitution (and the blanket, still) within seconds.
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cobaltfluff · 28 days
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happy april fools' from your big brothers, dumbass (affectionate)
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chrollohearttags · 5 months
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CHARM’D • mikasa ackerman
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your fiancée gets a new piercing and you decide to have some fun with it.
content + themes: nail tech!mikasa, black fem!reader, y/n is a lash tech, subby mika, her and y/n cracking jokes on each other, overstimulation, pillow humping, use of toys, scissoring, heavy squirting, fingering, bratty mika, gay bestie!armin cameo
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.─── ── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* : ── ・
most people would say working with your significant other seems like a great time. Being around the one person you love more then life itself and earning a living at the same time? You couldn’t ask for a better deal. However, it did have its challenging moments..discipline and focus is an important part of anyone’s employment. Regardless of the job but especially when tending to someone’s beauty and esthetic needs, it was imperative to pay attention. Hence why your fiancée despised the fact that you were working alongside her as her new lash tech some days! Granted, she was thrilled to have you around and with an extra service and set of hands around, you guys’ income practically tripled. So it was a pretty sweet deal. However, you didn’t make it easy…in fact, you acted as if giving her a hard time was your actual occupation..
“Are you sure we can’t just fill them in and work around it? C’mon, Mika. You sure you can’t just do your magic?”
“Sweetheart, how long have you been a client of mine? I’m an artist, not a repair woman. Two things I refuse to do is fly coach and work over other people’s fuck ups. Now let’s soak these off so I can give you a fresh set. While you’re waiting, Armin can get you in the shampoo bowl. Since he’s sitting on his skinny ass, doing nothing.”
needless to say, it was never a dull moment! You guys’ hairstylist and resident smartass, Armin Artlert was currently seated in one of the styling chairs, typing away on his phone.
“And don’t forget looking cute. Just blind and grouchy.”
“Whatever. Help her before I suddenly find your replacement.”
it was obvious that the normally laid back nail tech was in rare form this morning. Not so much rude or angry but definitely on edge a little. The shop was a little busy but nothing more than usual for the Sugar and Spice Haus. It was normal for clients to be waiting outside the door so she couldn’t have been frazzled by that. So what exactly had her acting so strange? Perhaps it was a question better answered by the one person who knew her better than anyone else..and who ironically was the root cause of the issue!
“Oh, don’t pay her any attention, y’all. She’s just a little worked up. Isn’t that right, baby?”
just then, a rather gleeful (y/n) would come traipsing from the back of the salon..strapless dress and sandals, holding a caddy full of lash supplies. In return, the only thing you were met with was a decorated middle finger and the roll of dark, doe eyes. Your fiancée was quite the bratty thing when she wanted to be but she was oh so cute….
“Oh shut up. I’m not talking to you right now.”
hence why you took immense pleasure in teasing her among other things..something that began long before the two of you even opened shop this morning..
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.─── ── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* : ── ・
flashback: earlier that morning..
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.─── ── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* : ── ・
“Oh God!…yes..right there!…”
“Aw, is that your spot, baby? Are you gonna come?”
the high pitch, condescending coo spouting from your lips rang off into the ears of your very whiny and overstimulated fiancée. Who had just been sleep only twenty minutes prior or so it would appear. Because as the two of you awoke for the morning, ready to start another day in the home and salon you shared as not only lovers, but business partners…you were met with a rather pleasant surprise. Faint whimpers and the sight of your precious Mikasa grinding herself against her pillow. Her tits spilling from her tank top; fondled in her palms, hair brushing against the sheets and her panties tugged to the side as her bare slit rubbed profusely against the memory foam material. She had to have been in utter bliss from the sounds erupting from her mouth. Not only that, she looked so sexy..however, you knew it was rather unbecoming of your woman too. Granted, your sex life was anything but mundane and the two of you took any opportunity plausible to fuck, lick or kiss on one another. However, for the past few days or so, she seemed to be evading you. Claiming to be far too exhausted for any sort of sexual activity. She’d shower alone and even halt you if things got too intense. One would think that was indicative of infidelity and that their partner was with someone else. But alas, her dirty little secret came to light and needless to say, you’d return the pent up sexual frustration ten fold!..
“Oh? What’s this?…” she just knew that once you unveiled the truth, you’d never allow her to live it down. And she was correct.
“(Y/N)..baby…fuck me!..”
the truth was, she had snuck behind your back and acquired a clit piercing. More than likely from the same artist who had decorated her skin in the plethora of tattoos she sported. But what she hadn’t counted on was becoming so hypersensitive afterwards. It was one of those things that could go either way, depending on the person. Getting piercings in intimate area could either make you lose all feeling or make you super sensitive to the touch. For poor Mikasa, she was the latter to a fault! You would’ve thought that she would’ve learned her lesson when she got her nipples pierced and they sent her into a frenzy with something as simple as putting on a bra on. But you were more than happy to meet her request..flipping her over onto her back, (y/n) promptly shoved your tongue into her mouth; jaw agape and slack from being on the brink of climax. Her pierced nipples puffy and erect and of course..that adorable little clit; marked with a silver ball and bar going through it. It looked so cute and she looked even more precious..practically begging for you to claim her. Slick surrounded that fat pussy of hers and you just knew she was close.
“Oh you poor thing…you’ve been holding out on me…don’t worry, mama. I’ll take care of you..”
reassuring her with your lips honing on her neck. Tender kisses trailing down her throat and those fingers following suit to her mound. Tracing your digits across her freshly waxed skin, you’d tease around the area, refusing to touch the actual bud. “But first..I need you to do sum’ for me, okay?” So gently cooing to her. At this point, she was desperate so she was at your mercy.
“Yes, baby!..whatever you want..”
crying out as you moved your fingertips lower as well as your mouth, leaving them to hover over her jeweled nipples. Drawing a long trail of saliva along with you in the process. That’s when you’d shove those two opposite fingers between her lips and force her to suckle, drumming up her own spit. “Suck on these f’r me. Get them wet…just like that.” She’d happily comply, knowing that you’d help her reach her peak soon. Whilst she was busy drooling and whining, you’d ease one digit inside of her with your thumb resting on her clit. She looked so helpless and vulnerable..turning you on more and more by the second. Mikasa’s back would raise from the bed as you pushed those digits knuckle deep into her core. You’d feel them suction and tighten around you and continue pressing until they were stained with a sheath of milky white and sticky clear liquid..dripping all down your nails. You kept them short just for special instances like these. So you could pump them in and out her pretty pussy and watch her squirm, yelping for more.
“Ah! Haaaa…oh my god! Right there! Yes…”
“Aw, am I in your spot, baby? Are you gonna come?”
nodding her head profusely; your dormant thumb now tracing circles against her clit and even flicking that piercing for added stimulation. Needless to say, she couldn’t hold back any longer and seconds later, when you finally gave her permission, you’d find your arm, the sheets and anything surrounding you two drenched in her juices. Squirting everywhere..and became inconsolable afterwards. “That’s it!…let it go, let it go for meee..squirt on those fingers.” Encouraging with loud cries ringing out through the bedroom. She was practically convulsing once you withdrew your fingers. Allowing them to drip, you’d dangle them over her lips and allow her to clean them off. “Mmmhm..taste yourself, baby…you look so pretty.”
running a hand along her torso and up to her throat yet again to wrangle her in for a kiss. Haven gotten a taste of her sweet essence, you decided to get your entire fill by finally leaving a trail of pecks leading to her pelvis before tousling your own side of the covers off and climbing on top of her. Without missing a step, you’d part her inked up legs and pin one back whilst intertwining the other with your own. From there, you’d tear off the thin lacy panties she was wearing off and put them to much practical use like gagging her. From there, you’d align your frothing slits and start grinding them against one another. Tugging down your own sports bra; dressed in only a bonnet and having fallen asleep with nothing on your lower half, you had become well aroused on your own from her little escapades. With that, Mika would buck her hips forward and work herself against you; meeting your thrusting with tearful pleas to keep fucking her. “Don’t stop, baby! Please don’t fucking stop…” her voice was cracking but her words very concise and clear. Those perky tits bounced around underneath as she gripped the silk linen underneath your bodies. The smacking of your clammy folds and warmth made for a beautiful chorus of steamy, nasty sounds filling the atmosphere…she wasn’t the only one feeling the pressure either because you soon found yourself nearing an orgasm. “I’m gonna come too, mama…fuck! You feel so good..”
laughing out of pure delirium and pleasure, unable to slow down in fear that you’d come on the spot. Those sticky juices smeared across each of your thick thighs as those lower lips meshed together. Eventually, you’d find yourself leaning down to let your tongues clash as well. “Mmph! I love you…” “I love you too, Mika! Fuck, baby…come for me again..”
just then, she’d follow your order and flail around as another stream of juices exited both of your bodies. Spraying up everything in the vicinity. Rubbing those finger pads against her throbbing bud, (y/n) drummed out more and more until she couldn’t spill another drop. You found yourselves going round for round..drawing out one another’s arousal and all that you had to offer. An hour or so had past; an array of positions from being seated on her face while you ate her out, to riding a double sided dildo…
“Yes, baby! You look so pretty riding that fucking dick..go deeper..”
to finally ended your rather heated session with your fingers intertwined as you played with yourselves. Massaging those clots to your final climatic rushes. Coming down in a powerful high with tears streaming down your faces and squirt pooling down your legs. All in all, it seemed that her little piercing was a success and rather useful investment.. “C’mere..that feel good?..” “..yeah..thank you, baby..so much.” Fucked out and dazed from being overly stimulated. But neither of you regretted a thing..that was until you made another proposal with a deviant glare on your face..reaching over into the dresser, you’d retrieve another device: a controller vibrator. One you planned to utilize on her throughout the work day!
“Hell no, (y/n)! I can’t..”.
but it was too late..you had already placed it inside of her and would be utilizing it until you had your fill. You wanted to see how she fared with her little body modification when you were the one in control..and throughout an entire day of work.
maybe next time she wouldn’t keep such secrets from you!
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
@soanis @merakidoll
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tonycries · 3 months
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Three's a Crowd (But Four...) - G.S.
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Synopsis. “So, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?” “Why? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?” In which you and your boyfriend find very unconventional uses for his powers.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, foursome (but they’re all Satoru + you LMFAO), NSFW, unprotected sex, double penetration, spit-roasting, face-sitting, doggy, missionary, anal, pet names (sweetheart, pretty, babe), oral sex (male + female receiving), overstimulation (female), swearing, slight breeding kink, cum (like lots).
Word count. 3.0k 
A/N. A lil' sum while I get on with a 10k arranged marriage fic. H O R N Y >>> actual JJK technicalities. 
Jokes, but idc what that technique was, I took that one chapter and ran with it. Art by @_3aem on X.
Cross-posted on AO3
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“They just nerfed Naruto in Boruto cuz they knew he’d be too DILF-y.”
“Amen.” 
Sprawled out on Satoru’s couch, both of you were fixated on the Naruto episode playing on-screen. It wasn’t anything new for a Friday night. His soft hairs tickling your chin, and legs dangling off the other end of the couch as he lay atop, cuddling you like a 6’3 housecat. 
Times like this, it’s easy to forget that your boyfriend constantly bears the burden of being “the strongest”. That is- until Satoru, eyes still locked onto the screen, speaks up “I can do that too, y’know.”
You turn to look at Satoru, “Do what?”
He nods his head towards the screen - now showing young Naruto mastering his iconic technique. “You could call it Shadow Clone Jutsu.” he hums.
Raising a brow, “So you could make tens of thousands of Satoru clones? The world may never know rest.”
Eyes brimming with smugness, he grins “Something like that.”
You cock your head, wanting to know more, “So, are they like holograms? Or can you really touch them?”
“Why? Trynna cop a feel, sweetheart?” he wiggles his brows in a way that would definitely be creepy if it was anyone but Satoru.
“You wish.”
Satoru huffs out a laugh, before going back to using your breasts as his personal cushions. “Not quite clones or holograms, they’re still me. But also not really, y’know?” he murmurs.
“Ahh. No.”
The conversation dwindles into a comfortable silence.
Or so you’d think. But the air was charged with something, and - knowing Satoru - you had an inkling it didn’t bode well for you down there.
As quickly as you suspected, he turns the TV off and turns to you with twinkling eyes.
“Toru...” you reproach.
He whines dramatically, “Come onnnn. Don’t they say the best way to learn is hands-on experience?”
“You just have ulterior motives, Toru.” 
“Hell yeah, I do.” he mutters into the valley of your breasts. Satoru peeks at you through his thick lashes, eyes bright with mischief. 
How could you say no to those eyes? And, well, you’d be lying if you said that the idea of multiple Satorus didn’t make your pussy clench in excitement.
That’s how you found yourself here.
Shirts thrown across the room and splayed out on Satoru’s overpriced silk bed sheets. You gasp in pleasure as he leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck.
Wrapping your legs around his waist, he rocks into you, pushing you deeper into the plush bed. Your pussy drips with anticipation as you feel the outline of his rock-hard cock straining against his sweatpants.
Hooking two fingers under your waistband, he swiftly pulls off your panties along with your shorts. “Already so wet and ready f’me…” he groans out. Quickly shuffling your bodies around, “C’mon sweetheart.” 
Now, Satoru knows he has a pretty face - too well, in fact, he uses it to his advantage to get his way with you too much. And he thinks there’s nothing that makes his face prettier than you on it.
It’s why he has you bent over and straddling his head. The tighter you squeeze him, the better.
One arm holds you in place while the other spreads your folds. Satoru teases your entrance with a finger, gathering your wetness before popping it into his mouth. He groans sinfully as he tastes you. “Fuck- always so good for me.”
You slowly put your weight onto him, failing against the strong arm that pulls you to sit on him properly. 
Satoru moans around your cunt as he finally dives nose-deep into it. Languidly, he licks long stripes against your folds, purposefully catching your clit in the process. “Hah- Fuck. Toru, more!”
Satisfied with your whines, he finally slides his tongue inside your dripping pussy, fucking you with his mouth till his cock twitches for friction.
You notice, and urgently shuffle his sweatpants down. Satoru’s cock stands achingly hard, precum dripping enticingly along the vein on the side of it. You lean down to kiss the shaft, delighting in his noises that send vibrations down to your clit. 
As you take his blushing red head into your mouth, Satoru increases his abuse on your cunt.
You arch your back further into his face - moaning around his thick cock. He starts fucking into your mouth steadily, forcing you to take more and more of his length. Drool drips down the corners of your mouth, “Mmm Toru- Feels so good.”
If one Satoru makes you feel this good…what would two feel like?
As if reading your mind - you wouldn’t be surprised if he actually could - Satoru pulls away slightly, ropes of spit still connecting him to you.
“Ready, sweetheart?” he murmurs lowly, hot breath making your cunt quiver.
And before you can respond, the hairs on your body raise as the air stills with the crackle of jujutsu. You remove yourself from Satoru’s cock with a wet pop! Looking up to see…those cerulean eyes. 
Another set.
“Toru…” you drone out, turning behind to glare at Satoru - who was now placing innocent kisses to your dripping pussy. His eyes peek out with visible amusement, “Jus’ say the word and I’ll stop.”
Satoru knew he had you cornered. He’d fully felt the way your walls clenched around his tongue once you saw the other version of him. This was going to be fun.
Harshly rolling his tongue against your clit, he lightly smacks your ass - signaling you to pay attention to the other Satoru in front of you now. 
So you do.
It was quite surreal seeing an exact copy of your boyfriend grinning down devilishly at you. He cups the back of your head, bringing you closer to him. “Don’t be scared, pretty. It’s jus’ me.” 
At first, you were unsure of what to do, the only thing you know being that - clone or not - this one was just as well-endowed as your boyfriend.
Experimentally, you press soft kisses to his hot tip, relishing in his drawn-out groan. You take him in deeper, tonguing the slit in the way you knew your boyfriend liked. “Yeah- Jus’ like that.”
He tightens his grip on your head. Pumping your Satoru with one hand, you use the other to steady yourself as your mouth gets used as the other’s own personal fucktoy. 
Shit. This was heaven.
Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you pull away, “Hngh- Toru, feels so fucking good.” Mewling at the stimulation on your cunt as well as the depravity of the act, you grind your hips deeper into Satoru’s mouth - searching for your high. 
Soon, you feel that familiar snap in your stomach. Satoru uses his fingers to spread your lips as you cum all over his tongue. He laps up your juices with lewd squelching sounds as his clone fucks your face deeper. Nose meeting his snowy white pubes and balls hitting your chin, you choke from both the position and Satoru’s relentless tongue. 
“Yeah, cum all over my tongue, sweetheart.”
You ride out your high on Satoru’s pretty face, slick spreading all over his mouth and nose. With a final kiss to your cunt, he shifts your legs and moves to tower over from behind. 
Removing yourself from the other’s cock, you look over your shoulder to see your boyfriend sensually pumping himself, readying to enter your eager pussy.
“Hey now, eyes on me, pretty.” A long finger moves your chin so that you face the Satoru in front of you. Seems that no matter what, every Satoru was a little possessive over you.
He rubs his dripping tip on your face, smearing his precum as a gloss before fucking into your mouth once more. 
Almost at the same time, Satoru fully rams his cock inside your pussy without any warning, tip kissing your cervix.
 “Shit. Always taking me in so good, sweetheart.” he huffs out as your walls flutter around his length.
You groan loudly around the cock in your mouth, partly from the pain of being unprepared and partly from the pleasure of getting what you wanted the most - both ends filled by your loving boyfriend.
Your eyes were dazed as you stare doe-eyed up at the Satoru that was plunging into your mouth mercilessly - the other fucking your hole at a similar pace. Strangled yelps leave your mouth as his balls sinfully slap against your clit. 
The room fills with loud, wet noises, and the slapping of skin. Both Satorus hunch over you in pleasure, muscles rippling. Your cunt quivers in an almost-animalistic way at the small grunts falling from their pretty lips.
You whine as he finds that one spot inside you which makes you see stars every time his hips meet yours. One hand - you were too far gone to recognize whose - reaches under you to draw harsh circles on your clit.
Tears spring to your eyes at the sheer overstimulation, and you rock your hips to meet his powerful cadence. One of your hands reaches for the other’s hip for stability, nose meeting his pelvis nails dragging along the soft skin. He grips your hair tighter, lips bitten and swollen at the stimulation.
From the way your pussy was clenching, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you were cumming again.
Now, throughout his life, Satoru has been called crazy many times. Crazy powerful, crazy handsome (in front of the mirror), and just downright mad. But it’s right about now - watching as you choke and cry around his own dick as he plows into you from behind - that he truly thinks he just might actually be a little crazy.
Slowing to shallow rocks, he focuses on his technique. 
Satoru basks in amusement when your whines of disappointment at his slowing pace die down as you register the tugging and sucking on your nipples from below.
You gasp as you break away from the Satoru in front of you and look down, breath catching in your chest as you realize that your boyfriend has conjured up another clone of himself. 
He was going to be the death of you.
“Pay attention, sweetheart.” you hear from behind you as Satoru starts up his relentless rhythm once more, hand now moving to squeeze and spread your ass. 
You knew where this was going, and you didn’t mind it one bit.
The stretch of your cunt as it adapted to Satoru’s length burned almost as much as your nipples as his clone continued to bite and tease them. “Feels good, babe?” he sighs around your breasts. Yet your whines of pleasure are quickly muffled by the flushed tip kissing your lips once more. 
“Hope you didn’t forget about me, pretty.” 
“More- Hngh, Toru!” you whine, not sure which Satoru you were addressing anymore . All three of them speed up their motions, the pleasure from all points pushing you over the edge.
You as you cum fast and hard. 
But your Satoru(s) don’t let you have a moment’s rest as your orgasm is quickly overshadowed by your boyfriend’s hands on your ass. Teasingly drawing circles around the rim. You shiver, hole quivering at the cold feeling of his saliva hitting you. 
His cock still ramming into your abused cunt, Satoru enters a finger into your ass. Using his spit and your slick from before to stretch you out till he’s satisfied. “Fuck- Taking me so good, sweetheart.” he moans out at the sight of you being stretched out from all ends by him and only him.
You continue mewling as the pleasure overtakes you. He was going to ruin you.
Half-delirious from all the stimulation, you barely hear the lowly “Ready, babe?” from below you before Satoru pulls out and suddenly you’re flipped. Easily manhandled by your boyfriend, your head lolls against his replica’s strong shoulder as you’re caressed from three sides once more.
“Feeling alright, sweetheart?” your boyfriend rasps from above. Now hot and bothered once more from how your loving boyfriend was using you like a ragdoll, you gasp out “Yeah, Toru. Need you so bad.”
“Oh yeah?” he grins, lining himself up with your pulsing pussy. “Tell me how badly you want me in all your tight lil’ holes.”
You choke out a sob at the way your Satoru was teasing your folds with his thick cock. “So bad- Need you so bad Toru. Want you to fill me up everywhere.” 
Arching your back, you grind your ass against the furiously hard cock prodding at your asshole. Hearing choked gasps from below you, your pussy clenches in anticipation around nothing. To Satoru, your arousal is almost palpable - as strong as the cursed technique in the air surrounding you two.
And that seems to be what finally makes Satoru snap before he sheathes himself entirely in your dripping cunt. Your strangled moans are cut off by the other Satoru slowly bullying himself into your other hole.
“Ah- Ah!” you yelp in both pain and pleasure as you’re stretched to your limits. You feel full. So full. You were going to snap - like a rubber band - and your boyfriend was going to be reveling in his success. The man in question furrows his brows, groaning at the sweet feeling of his pretty lil’ girlfriend being so tight.
A single tear streaming down your face is gently brushed away as a pair of muscular thighs come to rest beside your face. “Shhh, pretty. You can take it.”  
Both of them start moving carefully.
Satoru would never admit it, but feeling his own dick stretch you out twofold has been a little fantasy tucked in a deep, dark corner of his mind ever since he realized the nefarious purposes his technique could be used for.
He could feel his other version pumping into you from behind as he ruts into your cunt mindlessly. The friction mixed with the gummy wetness of your pussy was mind-blowing - fuck, he really should have watched Naruto with you sooner.
Satoru gazes at you through half-lidded eyes as you press kittenish pecks to his clone’s cock above you. You stare right into your boyfriend’s eyes as you take the length into your mouth once more, inch by inch. Nose meeting his pelvis.
Shit. Satoru feels like he could pass out - whether from seeing the sinful image of all your holes filled by him or from the excessive use of his cursed technique, he doesn’t question. Your walls flutter, struggling to take him both.
Fuck, he really feels like he’s gonna explode.
Satoru pulls out fully before harshly thrusting into you once more, keeping up a pace that has his abs burning and you struggling for air. He sees another tear fall delicately down your cheek.
“My girl takes me so well, huh? Fuck. Made jus’ for me, sweetheart.”
The air was stagnant with the smell of sex and jujutsu. 
All three Satorus thrust into you fiercely, the bed creaking furiously. Satoru has half a mind to worry about whether it would break down in the middle of all this. How inconvenient that would be, he’s so close. 
It was animalistic, the way you could just sit there and take it as your boyfriend used you in all sorts of ways you never deemed possible. 
You’re pretty sure your body is completely bruised and raw at this point. Eyes fluttering shut, tears cling to your lashes as you’re filled up. Your brain, as well as your holes, were overwhelmed with only Satoru Satoru Satoru. If your mouth wasn’t suckling on his length, you’re sure you’d be screaming loud enough for Satoru’s neighbor’s to file a noise complaint.
Good. So good.
Feeling that sharp tug on your stomach again, your legs flail as you steadily reach your climax. Held down by three sets of large hands - all caressing you relentlessly in various ways - you finally cum with an exhausted whimper.
Brain foggy and eyes unfocused, you barely feel the twitch of Satoru’s cock. 
With a throaty moan, all three versions of your boyfriend cum - not one pulling out. Your senses are overtaken as Satoru doesn’t relent his pace, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into your abused pussy.
Ah- He felt he was gonna fuck another Gojo into you. Carry on his legacy. Shut those old cows up about a Gojo heir.
You’d look so round and beautiful with his kids. 
“Only I get to cum in this pussy.” he drawls out as he keeps rutting his sensitive cock into you. Low whines get stuck in his throat as he loses himself in the feeling of your tight walls coated in his semen. His other versions were also at their limit, shooting out thick streams of cum to paint your face and ass. 
You were so beautiful like this. Fucked out and covered in his seed. 
His and only his.
As you slowly come to your senses, the first thing you feel is wet. Not from your own slick, but from Satoru’s thick cum - it was everywhere, decorating your lips, your tits, all the way down to your holes below. 
The second thing you feel is raw. You weren’t too sure anymore that you’d be able to make it to that family dinner tomorrow, Satoru had absolutely gone all out tonight. 
Laying there, willing yourself to move, you flinch as something soft and wet touches your legs. “Shhh…easy there, sweetheart. Get some rest, I’ll take care of it.” you hear the soothing whisper of your one and only boyfriend. 
You muster up the strength to look up and see his gentle smile. “Rest.” he breathes out as he continues to wipe you down. In the back of your mind you register the distinct lack of the other presences of your boyfriend.
“T-Toru...” you were too fucked up to formulate proper sentences.
“Shhh it’s okay.”
At his tender whispers, you easily drift into a fatigued sleep. You dream of shadow clones and blue, blue skies. 
Waking up after your brief nap, you find yourself dressed and cuddled by Satoru on a fresh set of sheets. “You okay?” he mutters in-between innocent pecks to your bruised lips.
At your affirmative nod, he probes further “Learn anything about my technique?”
“Absolutely not.” you sigh, pulling him in closer. As you snuggle into the crook of his neck, you almost miss the devious grin spreading across his face.
“Then…wanna try six next time?”
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A/N. No Part 2 till I figure out better ways to differentiate these bitches LMAO.
Plagiarism not authorized.
3K notes · View notes
nanaslutt · 6 months
Note
hear me out.. gojo w a mommy kink
oh em gee nonnie………
i wasn’t sure if you wanted sub or dom gojo but i hope you like what i cooked up :p
pls enjoy<3
contains: fem reader, mommy kink, use of ‘mama’, ‘mama’s’ as well, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), coming inside, bully!gojo, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, a liiiiitle cervix fucking, squirting, stomach bulge briefly mentioned, begging, whiney!gojo
MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
it honestly started as a joke, maybe less of a joke and more of him testing the waters per say, “yes mommy” he chirped, humor and teasing laced in his tone when you asked him to take out the trash one afternoon
when you didn’t protest against the name, not giving him a usual snarky remark, he turned around to look at you, not expecting to see your blushing face, fidgeting from where you stood in the kitchen, looking embarrassed at the nickname he called you,
unbeknownst to you while you stared at your feet, a smile full of mischievousness was creeping onto gojo’s face, lightbulbs going off in his head
ohhh this is fucking perfect, he thought
he never knew how to bring up that he wanted to try this with you, it’s not like you would’ve taken him seriously anyways, he can picture how the conversation would go vividly in his mind,
but gojo was more than slightly to blame for the frequency in which you dismissed him. satoru was incapable of being serious to save his life
all thanks to his little ‘joke’ you were now currently in this predicament:
gojo’s massive palm shoving the side of your face into the mattress, tears and spit smeared on the sheets below you, other hand braced on your lower back, pushing you into the meanest arch as he fucks right into your gspot,
“you like that mommy?” he cooed, “like when i fuck your pussy like this? huh?” he teased lightly, laughing at the loud whimpers getting knocked out of your lungs each time his hips pulled his thick cock out of you only to bully his angry tip back right into your walls, rubbing you just right,
he was giving you the meanest backshots, feeling even more aroused than normal from not having to hold back this side of him anymore, “asked you a question mama’s,” he repeated, emphasizing his need for your response with a mean thrust,
“y-yeah f-feel ‘s good toru,” you moan out between his deep thrusts, “squeezin me so good mommy, fuuuuck.” he laughs when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him for the fourth time that night, “you gonna cum? you- o-oh fuuck.” words getting cut off at the intense feeling of your cunt gushing your squirt out around him,
“haaaaa, didn’t even warn me that time mama.” he grit his teeth, fucking you through your orgasm with newfound vigor, hand coming down to rub quickly back and forth against you clit, making your juices spray all over the bed underneath you,
“toruuuu, ‘m sensitive g-give me a second p-please.” you manage to stutter out, crying out when he doesn’t let up his assault on your overstimulated cunt, “nooo,” he moans pouting his lip down at you before smiling, “don’t think i wanna,” he finishes, leaning over you, moving his big hand off the side of your face and onto the bed next you you for leverage, other hand coming up to go grip your jaw and smash your lips into his,
he hums against your open mouth as you protest his malicious thrusts, fucking you like he’s trying to poke a hole through your guts. the new angle pushing his impossibly big cock ever deeper, kissing your cervix in painfully pleasurable thrusts,
“feel good mommy? huhhh?” he breathlessly whispers into your mouth, doing most of the work in kissing you as you were too fucked out to put in any effort. his tongue slipping into your mouth, sucking your lip into his and biting it between his teeth as he groans, “you feel me in ur stomach mommy?” he questions with a grin when he sees your shaky hand slide under your body to press against the bulge in your tummy,
“s fucking deep ‘toru p-please,” you begged, not really understanding yourself what you were asking for, but he just nods and hums agreements into your mouth, “m gonna cum inside you now.” he babbles against you lips, losing his sensibility bit by bit the longer he’s inside of you, butterflies flying around in his stomach when he feels your soft pussy clench around him tightly every time he uses the nickname, glad you’re getting off on it as much as he is,
“tell me you need it mommy, tell me- fuck- tell me you want me to fill this p-pretty pussy, need you to say it,” he’s gaping into your drooling mouth. your eyes having trouble staying forward in your eye sockets with how much pleasure you were getting from this,
“give it to me t-toru please, give it to me.” you somehow got out, barely coherent to someone if they were a foot away, luckily for gojo he was pressed against your face, whimpering ‘uhhuh?’’s repeatedly into your mouth, “cum inside mommy,” you slurred out, feeling his sloppy thrusts speed up,
loud echos of your wet cunt filling the room as he stills inside of you, whining and groaning out profanities hearing you call yourself by the nickname he was so insistent on, hips stilling deep inside you, cock feeling like it was inside your womb as he humps his sensitive dick against your ass,
“o-ohmygodd f-fuck meeee.” his whiney voice cries, rotating his hips in circles and simultaneously massaging your gspot while he lets the last spurts of his cum shoot deep inside you,
pushing his torso off of your back and leaning back while he pulls his still hard cock out, seed spilling down the back of your thighs as he spreads you pussy with his thumb to get a better view of it drip out, “fuck mama,” he laughed, biting his lip at the mess he made out of you, “gotta hear you call urself mommy again,” he smirks, pushing his sensitive dick back inside you, making you both gasp, “made me cum so fucking hard.” tipping his head back, breathing heavily as he steadies both his hands on your hips,
“not letting you leave till you have me shooting blanks inside this pussy,” he giggles into the air, you had no idea what you were in for.
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moon7jay · 2 months
Text
➷ WIP ㄴCHERRYㄱ : LEE HEESEUNG
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pairing : pervert!heeseung x virgin!reader
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Warnings : toxic heeseung, manipulation, coercion, morally gray characters, dub con, infidelity, angst, filthy smut, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, body image issues, body shaming, family issues (it gets heavy), unprotected sex, cum eating, violence, dacryphilia.
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➷ PREVIEW : Your hands tremble in indignation as you snatch the taunting piece of paper from Sunghoon's grasp. The laughter and jeers coming from the group of boys in front of you ignite a fiery flush upon your cheeks, fueling a desire to strangle each and every one of them.
"Come on y/n, don't be a buzzkill, we're just joking around," Sunghoon cackles as your gaze darts swiftly across the list of names highlighted in various colors and handwritings on the page. Each name is a girl you know or someone you've heard of in passing. Your eyes stop when you come across your name highlighted in red, along with HIS name. Your ears flame red with fury and mortification as the words on the sheet finally start to make sense.
So this is a list of-
Raising your eyes, you ignore Sunghoon and meet his friend's smirk head-on. Heeseung's brow arches in a gesture of smugness as he sprawls arrogantly in his seat, manspreading like he doesn't give a single fuck about what you're holding in your hands. He isn't ashamed. With a sultry pop, he withdraws the lollipop he's been sucking on, his lips glistening with a sheen of scarlet as his tantalizing tongue traces a path over his lower lip, his gaze a dark challenge locked onto yours, sending more heat to your cheeks.
You bite your lower lip to stop it from quivering and crumple the offending sheet of paper, delivering it with a resounding smack to Heeseung's forehead, eliciting a chorus of gasps from the rest of the boys. Without pausing to witness his reaction, you pivot on your heel and stride purposefully out of the classroom, hands shaking as the damning words on the now crumpled piece of paper swirl at the forefront of your mind.
Cherries to pop this semester : Y/N (Heeseung's pick)
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wc : 23k
READ HERE
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prettypinkprincessa · 1 month
Text
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Rafe x sunshine reader ☀️
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☀️ He thought it was a joke at first. The way you would peak in his room to say hi, to give him little treats, to ask if he was okay. You were overly sweet. And it made him sick. Today was the day of Sarah’s birthday party. She invited you, some other friends and of course, rafe.
“Rafe!! Go down and help y/n grab the cake out of the car!!” Sarah yelled from upstairs. Rafe groaned and headed out front.
“Hi Rafe!!” You wave and he rolls his eyes.
“Where’s the cake?” He asked.
“Oh! I already put it inside!” Before he could respond he looked you up and down. Noticing the tiny ass bikini you were wearing. Tits slipping out the side of your top. “Are you serious?” He asks.
“What do you mean Rafe?”
“…nothing.”
☀️ The whole day he kept an eye on you. Watching as you swam in the pool, how you ate your watermelon and sucked on your popsicles. You had to be doing this on purpose. I mean he didn’t believe you were this oblivious.
“Rafe?” You entered the back door walking over to him. Wearing his shirt.
“Sarah said I could use one of your shirts as a cover up…is that okay with you?” You asked, hopping up and down on one foot to the other.
“I mean you already have it on dont you?”
You giggle at his “joke” and he watches as you walk away. Ass print visibly jiggling through the shirt.
☀️ “Sarah tell your little friend to put some fucking clothes on”
“Huh!?” She questioned.
“Look at her.”
You sat on the couch comfortably with rafes shirt sliding down your shoulder. Knees up to your chin, putting your bikini covered puffy cunt on display. You look back at them noticing the way they’re both staring at you.
“Huh? Did anyone call my name?” You ask sweetly. Smiling at both of them.
He groaned loudly at your innocence, grabbing a sheet of paper and holding it over the bulge in his pants as he walked away.
☀️ As the night gets older more people start to arrive meaning, more men started to hit on you. Rafe lurked from a distance. Eyeing every man that approached you. Noticing how they glanced at your tits and stared at your ass as you walked away.
“Hey” Rafe said, standing infront you. “Hi Rafe!” You exclaimed. Smiling up at him sweetly.
“Um, where’s my shirt?”
“Huh? You look down and realize what he’s asking about, “oh! I took it off since I was going in the pool but…I can’t seem to find it” you scan around the room for his shirt before shortly returning your gaze back to Rafe.
“Okay well, here.” Rafe took his shirt off and handed it to you. His bare chest right in your face.
“O-oh thanks”
You take it and avoid his gaze. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable with your staring.
“So are you gonna put it on?” He asked.
“Oh! Yeah.” You smile while throwing his shirt on. It hung over your entire body. Looking more like a dress than a shirt. He smirked gently.
“There, that way people won’t hit on you”
“Huh?” You asked, not hearing him fully. He groaned and rolled his eyes.
“Nothing.”
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💫 not proof read so sorry for any mistakes!!
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worldlxvlys · 1 month
Note
can you do a fic where chris and reader are dating and reader interacts with all the edits of chris on tiktok and fangirls with the chris girls.
TIK TOK
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: cursing, sexual jokes
a/n: i kinda love this, i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone do a tik tok social au before
lmk what you think
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**click yes to actually watch the edits**
WATCH VIDEO?
yes scroll
COMMENTS:
@ y/n
good LORD THAT MAN IS FINE 😩
@lustfulslxt
oh i’m DRENCHED
y/n -> the sturniolo police abt to get ur ass (same)
@flowerxbunnie
suddenly i’m on my knees 🫠
y/n -> literally me
@sturnssx
y/n is so lucky but idk if i wanna be her or chris more
y/n -> i’d want myself too honestly (i’m kidding i love chris)
@mattslolita
why is he not in my bed rn ??
y/n -> sorry bae he’s in mine ✌🏾i’ll tell him to go visit u later !
@its-jennarose
HOW IS HE REAL?
y/n -> the way that i genuinely ask myself this question on a daily basis
@sophssturn
GOD DAYUM 😨
y/n -> fr like who does bro think he is ??
@bernardsleftbootycheek
THIS IS CRAZY GOOD
y/n -> idk which is crazier, your username or this edit ( both eat tho)
@queen161718
the fact that y/n is always just lurking in the comment sections of chris edits absolutely takes me out 😭😭
y/n -> gotta support my man and his talented ass fansss
@cupidsword
i need him BAD
y/n -> same (i already have him)
@imwetforyourmom
i just need one chance 😫
y/n -> nah bae, he’s got a brother thooo !
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WATCH VIDEO?
yes scroll
COMMENTS:
@ y/n
his hair is really nice 🤭
@evieolo -> I’M SAYINGGGGG
@nickmillersn1gf
it always looks so soft and fluffyyyy
@mbbsgf -> if he ever shaved it off i would cry
y/n -> you and me both sis
@mattsneezing
yesss, i love my husband’s hairrrr 😍
y/n -> aren’t you a matt girl ?? where’s your sense of loyalty ??
@chrisstankyleg
my man is looking FINE
y/n -> girl, i don’t know how to tell you this…
@sturniolobltch
even the paparazzi is obsessed with his hair
@sturniolowhore -> can’t even blame them
@bethsturn -> he’s just so 😫
@ y/n -> you guys get it
@bernardenjoyer
biting my phone rn
y/n -> glad i’m not the only one !
@rac00ns-are-c00l4
long hair chris >>>
@ y/n -> NO FR, IDK WHY HE KEEPS CUTTING IT
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WATCH VIDEO ?
yes. scroll.
COMMENTS.
@ y/n
MY MAN MY MAN MY MANNNNN
@chrisloyalgf
it’s a good day to be a chris girl
y/n -> it’s a good day to be chris’s girl
@urmom2bitch
HIS FINGERS GOOD LORD
@ y/n -> they’re long as hellll 😋
@defnotayonna -> wdym by that 🤨
@ssturniolo
chris girls, how y’all doing ??
y/n -> I’M LOSING MY MIND RN
@judespoision
i’m just a sturniolo girl atp
y/n -> AS YOU SHOULDDDD
@ y/n
HELP CHRIS JUST ASKED ME WHY THIS AUDIO HAS BEEN REPLAYING FOR SO LONG
@blueeyedbesson -> not you watching chris edits while you’re with him 😭
@ y/n -> THEY’RE SO ADDICTING
@hearts4chriss -> oh hey boo tell my man i said hey 😛
@ y/n -> oh is matt your man now ??
@ hearts4chriss -> …girl don’t play with me
@chrisstopherfilmed
GRIPPING MY SHEETS RN
@starsturniolo -> he’s so fineeeee 😩
@robins-scoop -> LIKE WHY ISN’T THIS MAN IN MY BED ??
@ y/n -> sorry y’all he’s in mine !
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WATCH VIDEO ?
yes. no.
COMMENTS
@ y/n
PERIODDD YOU CLEARED SHOWING THIS TO CHRIS IMMEDIATELY
@ y/n
damnnn me and flo milli twinninggg 🤞🏾
@ christophersturniolo -> oh look at that it’s night
@readerakayourname -> CHRIS 😭
@fandomhopped -> he’s so real for that honestly
@ y/n
i’m absolutely obsessed with that first clip
@yamamasjumpercables -> i want this edit engraved in my brain
@ y/n -> no LITERALLY
@ineedchriscock
i’d let him choke me any day
@ y/n -> where is your self respect 😧 ( literally same )
@luverboychris
the only person’s babies i’d carry
@ y/n -> WHAT 😭😭 (real)
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WATCH VIDEO ?
yes. no.
COMMENTS
@ y/n
his frat boy era will be missed 😔🙏
@rootbeerworshiper -> frat boy chris >>>>>
@ y/n
song choice >>>>>
@ christophersturniolo -> i wanna watch u get naked !
@ y/n -> then come over ???
@patscorner -> oh !
@junnniiieee07 -> ik those are the lyrics but i don’t think they’re joking 😭
@ y/n -> 🤫
@chr1sgirl4life -> THAT’S MY MAN MY MAN MY MANNNN 😍
@breeloveschris -> incorrect that’s MY man !
@ y/n -> idk how to tell y’all this…
@nicksmainbitch
this audio choice was the best decision you could’ve ever made
@vanteguccir -> this song is so chris coded
@55sturn -> frat boy chris + this song 😩
@mayhem-72 -> his smirk ?? are we kidding ??
@ y/n -> bros ego is INFLAMMED
he ain’t even the fart fr
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WATCH VIDEO ?
yes. no.
COMMENTS
@ y/n
BODY ROCK OH I WANNA FEEL YOUR BODY ROCKKKKKKKK
@endereies
CHRIS + JUSTIN ??? THIS EATSS
@ y/n -> i’m sayingggggg
@sturniolosmind
smash !
@ y/n -> oh (i agree)
@disturbedwoodelf -> i love how no matter what chris edit i’m watching y/n is always in the comment section
@ y/n -> AND AMMM
@ mattsturniolo -> she has nothing better to do
@ y/n -> alr fuck you too then
-> and you can’t be talking you had to click at least 5 different drop down arrows to even find this reply
@ mattsturniolo -> i’m very busy actually
@ christophersturniolo -> matt you’re literally walking around the house catching pokemon
@nikolastrn -> damn they gagged you 💀
@bernardsbendystraws -> i’d rock his shit
@ y/n -> what do i even say to this
@ berbardsbendystraws -> wanna join in ??
@ y/n -> oh my 😨 (🤭)
CREDITS
@ frxy on tiktok
@ bl6tts on tiktok
@ sturniolo.vfx_ on tiktok
@ strvnloml on tiktok
@ chrislover476 on tiktok
@ edzbyang on tiktok
this took me wayyyyy too long to make, but it was so funnnn
lmk if you want more like this :)
no tag list cause i tagged y’all in the actual fic 😝
masterlist
1K notes · View notes
dearly-somber · 2 months
Text
hyunga’s sleeping | l.mh
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-> pairing. idol!minho x non-idol!reader (f)
-> genre. Established relationship, domestic fluff.
-> rating. 13+
-> w/c. 1101
-> warnings. None!
-> a/n. This was fueled by pure, unadulterated Minho & Soon-Doong-Dori (SDD) brainrot.
-> skz drabble, oneshot & series m.list
-> started. Feb. 23rd, 2024 @ 16:51
-> fin. Fri., Mar. 1st, 2024 @ 19:40
-> edited. Sat. Mar. 2nd, 2024 @ 15:40
-> divider credit. @plum98
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“Eomoni!”
“Y/N, darling, come in!”
Minho’s mom wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling you inside with a big smile on her face. She waves you off as you slip out of your shoes and into a pair of bright pink Hello Kitty slippers Minho bought for you as a joke years ago, forcefully prying the bag of goodies you bought on your way here from your fingers.
“I hope I’m not intruding—?”
“Hush!” Mrs. Lee chides with a smile, “Stop worrying so much.” Her hand hovers by the small of your back, guiding you up the last step into the living room.
“Is Minho here? He said he was coming home today…”
“Yes, he’s here. He’s in his room.” Minho’s mom sets the plastic bag on the counter, and you naturally go to help her unpack what you bought, shelving things like you live here.
“I—hello, abeonim.” You bow at Mr. Lee, closing your eyes contentedly when he comes around the counter to give you a fatherly side-hug that squishes you against him.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, ruffling your hair as he lets you go in favor of helping his wife unpack.
You shrug, walking around to the other side of the counter. “Thought I’d pop in to say hi. I missed the kittens very much.”
Mr. Lee laughs, shaking his head at you. “Of course, the kittens.” He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly.
You can’t help the grin tugging at your mouth, clearing your throat to speak. “Speaking of, where are the babies? I haven’t seen any of them since I got here.”
“Last time I checked they were all with Minho in his room,” his mom says, putting away the bottle of red wine you bought for dinner later tonight.
“Great! I can kill two birds with one stone.” You wiggle your eyebrows.
She snickers at you, shooing you away with a fond smile. “Go say hi and then come sit with us—we found a documentary we thought you’d like.”
“Okay, eomoni.” You smile at her and hope your pure love and adoration for her isn’t written too clearly on your face, afraid she might tease you. You walk with light steps in the direction of Minho’s room, unable to wipe the smile off your face.
“Minho-ssi,” you sing-song, rounding the corner with a light and airy step-a-step you’re pretty sure you saw somewhere in Thunderous’s choreography.
Mreow?
“Doong-Doong-ah?” Your lips jut out in a surprised pout, looking down at the talkative orange tabby with a tiny furrow in your brow. Following the lump of white sheets behind him, you finally make out Minho’s all-black clad body hidden under all the fluff.
You smile.
“Is hyunga sleeping?” you whisper, walking over on the tips of your toes before crouching in front of Doongie, scratching behind his ears with a soft smile. He mrews, his eyes fluttering closed as he leans his head into your hand. To your right, Dori hugs what you think is a bottle of lotion between his white socked-paws, his tail flicking with each nibble he delivers to the hard plastic.
You let your hand wander over Dori’s side and chide him with a half-hearted hiss when he clamps his teeth around your knuckles, shaking it off with a smile when he pauses a second before giving your hand a couple of licks.
You give his side one last pat before walking around Minho’s feet, only noticing Soonie as he’s cuddling into your boyfriend’s duveted stomach.
You can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips, crouching next to the sleeping cats to card your fingers through Soonie’s fur, feeling a familiar sense of pride swell in your chest at his appreciative purr.
And then you’re looking up at Lee Minho, your body tingling all over at the serenity on your sleeping beauty’s face, unable to help but reach out and let your hand run over his hair; a little frizzy at the ends but otherwise straight; he must not have been sleeping for very long.
You drag your hand over Minho’s head with an inexplicable softness constricting your throat, wishing you could lean down and kiss him without running the risk of waking him up.
You jump a little when Minho lets out an adorable grunt as he slowly pries his eyes open.
“Jagi?” he mumbles.
“Did I wake you?” you coo, combing your fingers through his fringe.
“Mmm.”
You chuckle, letting the pads of your fingers brush over his forehead, over his eyelids. “Ever the truthman.”
“Truthman?” he grumbles, bringing a hand up to loosely hold your wrist between his fingers.
“When did you get home?” You let your hand wander over his cheek.
“A few hours ago…”
“From practice?”
He guides the palm of your hand against his lips. “Mmm...”
He kisses your hand, turning onto his back (much to Soonie’s dismay) and throwing the duvet around his hips before tugging on your arm with surprising strength.
You yelp, practically falling on top of him. He lets out a back-of-the-throat kind of giggle that sends tingles down your arms, using his hands on your hips to shift you higher up his abdomen.
Minho lets out a satisfied hum-sigh against the top of your head, his fingers massaging the skin at your waist before hooking his fingers under the waistband of your trousers, letting the elastic keep his hands in place.
“Baby,” you say, softly—knowing his parents are waiting for you downstairs but feeling so tempted to sink into his warmth and stay there until the end of days.
“No,” he huffs, nuzzling your temple. “Lay with me for a bit.”
You can’t help but laugh, subtly shaking your head. Of course he knows. “Okay, but only for a minute. Your mom invited me downstairs to watch a—“
“Shh, jagi, I’m trying to sleep.”
———
“Y/N, sweetheart, we’re—“
Mrs. Lee stops in her tracks, right outside Minho’s room. The sight she comes across brings an immediate smile to her face, and she can’t help but take her phone out and snap a picture to give to her son later:
Minho, his arms wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, legs intertwined. And surrounding you, Soonie, Doongie and Dori; the youngest of the trio laying by his hyung’s head. Doongie lays by your feet, and Soonie sleeps just off to the side, his legs stretched out in front of him.
As she sits back down with her husband, Mrs. Lee can’t help but think: she can’t wait for the day Minho asks for her mother’s ring.
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pucksandpower · 6 months
Text
No Nut November
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: Lando made a bet with his friends to give No Nut November a try but, as his girlfriend, you have other plans
Warnings: 18+ content and Lando shaving his head
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You can’t believe Lando is actually going through with this. When he first told you about his silly bet with the other Quadrant guys to see who can go the longest without “nutting” in November, you thought he was joking.
But no, he insists he has to see it through now.
You roll your eyes in exasperation, “Babe, this is ridiculous. You know I have needs too.”
Lando just laughs and pulls you into a hug. “It’s just a month, love. We’ll be fine.”
“A whole month though? I’ll explode!” You whine dramatically.
He kisses your forehead. “You can manage, I believe in you.”
The first week actually goes smoothly enough. You figure you can handle this if you really try. Maybe it will even be good for your relationship, taking a break from the physical stuff for a bit.
But soon the desire starts creeping up on you more and more. Laying in bed one night, you roll over and start kissing Lando’s neck. He makes a small noise of protest and scoots away. “Come on, Y/N, you know we can’t.”
You huff in frustration. “But Lando, I need you.” Your hands start to wander under the sheets.
He catches your wrist gently. “Nuh uh, that’s against the rules.”
“Screw the rules!” You cry in exasperation.
Lando just shakes his head, clearly trying not to smile. “Stay strong, love. Only three more weeks to go.”
As the days pass, you get more and more worked up. Everything Lando does seems to turn you on now — the way he bites his lip in concentration, the flex of muscles when he lifts weights, even just the sound of his laugh.
One day after his workout, you’re waiting when he gets out of the shower, wearing his favorite lingerie set.
His eyes widen at the sight, but he steels himself. “That’s not going to work but I appreciate the effort,” he says with a cheeky grin.
You let out a dramatic wail. “Lando, please, I’m losing my mind here!”
He just keeps teasingly shaking his head as you continue your onslaught of pleading and temptation. You try every trick and tactic you can think of but he refuses to give in.
As November drags on, you’re utterly frustrated. At this point, it’s become a game and you’re determined not to lose. There’s no way Lando can hold out for the whole month when you look this damn good!
One evening, you decide to pull out all the stops. As Lando’s cooking dinner, you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. Standing on your tiptoes, you begin kissing his neck the way you know drives him crazy.
He tenses up immediately. “Y/N ...” he says warningly.
“Shhh ...” You whisper. “Just focus on cooking. I’ll stop if you really want me to.” Even as you say it, your hands drift lower, teasing along the waistband of his shorts.
Lando’s breath hitches but he keeps stirring the pasta valiantly. You continue with your ministrations, feathering kisses across his shoulders. When you nip his earlobe, he lets out a low groan.
“That’s it baby, you know you want this,” you purr. Your fingers dip below the elastic of his briefs to tease along his hip bones.
Lando curses under his breath, his resolve clearly weakening. You seize the opportunity to deepen the kisses, sucking at the sensitive spot on his neck. Your other hand trails up his chest, fingertips circling over his shirt.
“Y/N, please—” he gasps out. The pasta is now dangerously close to boiling over but neither of you care anymore.
Grinning in triumph, you spin Lando around and crash your lips to his in a searing kiss. He kisses you back feverishly, his hands coming up to cup your face as he walks you backward toward the bedroom.
***
Lando kicks the bedroom door shut behind you as his lips meet yours again hungrily. All thoughts of No Nut November are clearly out the window now.
Your hands fumble urgently with the hem of his shirt, breaking the kiss just long enough to tug it over his head. He returns the favor, peeling off your top and bra in one smooth motion.
Skin pressing against skin, you both groan at the contact you’ve been craving. Lando’s hands grip your hips, steering you toward the bed until the back of your legs hit the mattress. You let yourself fall backward, pulling him down on top of you.
Your lips find each other again as your hands explore eagerly. Lando kisses down your jaw to your neck, nipping and sucking in a way that makes you squirm against him.
“God I’ve missed this,” you breathe out as his fingers trail over your breast.
He hums in agreement, his touch lighting sparks across your skin. Your back arches off the bed as his mouth closes over your nipple.
Tangling your hands in his hair, you guide him lower, gasping when his lips reach the waistband of your leggings. He looks up at you questioningly and you nod eagerly.
In one smooth motion he tugs them off, followed swiftly by your underwear. You’re completely bare before him now and trembling in anticipation.
Lando’s eyes drink you in hungrily. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he growls before diving in.
You cry out as his tongue finds your clit, gripping the sheets tightly. He works you expertly, ramping up the pressure until you are writhing and moaning. Your orgasm builds fast and hard, his name tumbling from your lips.
“Yes, yes Lando! Don’t stop!” You pant out. Your climax crashes over you powerfully, stars bursting behind your eyelids.
Lando works you through it gently before moving back up to kiss you deeply. You can taste yourself on his lips and it makes you impossibly more turned on.
Reaching for his belt, you make quick work of the rest of his clothes. Taking him in your hand, you stroke him firmly as he groans into your mouth.
“Need you ... now,” you gasp out urgently.
Lando lines himself up at your entrance, his eyes questioning. You nod eagerly and he pushes inside you slowly. You both moan long and low at the feeling of him filling you up.
He sets a steady rhythm, rocking into you deeply. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper. The coil in your core starts building again right away.
“Faster, Lando, please,” you beg. He obliges, snapping his hips quicker. You drag your nails down his back making him shudder.
The sound of skin slapping on skin and your mingled moans fill the room. You can tell Lando is getting close by the way he tenses and swells inside you.
Reaching down between you, he circles your clit rapidly. “Come on baby, come with me,” you urge him on. Your words send him over the edge with a choked groan.
His release triggers your second powerful orgasm, your walls contracting around him.
You cling to each other, riding out the aftershocks together. Lando collapses on top of you, nuzzling into your neck. You stroke his hair gently, holding him close.
“Guess you lost the bet,” you tease after a moment.
He chuckles against your skin. “So worth it.”
You tilt his chin up to kiss him softly, filled with love and contentment. Who cares about some silly internet challenge anyway? You and Lando have all you need right here.
***
The next morning, you wake up tangled in Lando’s arms, smiling at the memories of last night. Stretching contentedly, you roll over to face him.
“Good morning,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss him.
He kisses you back softly. “Morning, love.”
You run your fingers through his curls. “I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated your hair more than I did last night,” you say with a grin.
Lando laughs but then his expression turns serious. “About that ... there’s something I should tell you about the bet.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Part of the deal was that the first one to fail No Nut November has to shave their head,” he admits.
“What? No!” You gasp, clutching protectively at his hair. “You are not shaving these beautiful curls, I forbid it!”
He sighs. “I don’t want to but I made a deal. The lads will never let me hear the end of it if I don’t follow through.”
You pout dramatically. “Can’t you just lie and say you succeeded? They never need to know!”
Lando shakes his head. “They’d see right through me. I’m rubbish at lying.”
“But your hair ...” you whine sadly.
“It will grow back,” he assures you, though he doesn’t look happy about it either.
You bite your lip, thinking hard. “What if you just don’t tell them we had sex? Then as far as they know, you’re still in the running and you don’t have to shave your head! Don’t think of it as lying … think of it as omitting the truth.”
He considers this. “I guess that could work as long as they don’t find out somehow.”
“Exactly! Our secret is safe with me,” you swear solemnly. Crisis averted!
Later that day when Lando hops on stream with the Quadrant guys, you make yourself scarce to avoid any accidental slip-ups.
Lando greets his friends cheerfully. “Alright mates, how’s everyone holding up?”
“Still going strong,” Max Fewtrell reports. “You?”
“Yep, all good here,” Lando lies smoothly.
You listen from the other room, praying they don’t notice anything amiss. But a few minutes later, you hear Max exclaim “Lando, what’s that on your neck?”
Lando sounds flustered. “What? Nothing!”
“That’s definitely a hickey! He’s got hickies all over!” Max crows. “You broke, didn’t you Norris?”
You gasp, realizing in horror that you must have left marks last night.
Lando tries to deny it but eventually crumbles under their interrogation. “Alright fine, I gave in. But don’t tell Y/N that I told you!”
Raucous laughter ensues, followed by teasing demands that he shave his head immediately.
You rush in frantically. “No, stop! It was my fault, I seduced him!” You blurt out.
More laughter. “Wow mate, she’s really got you wrapped around her finger!”
Lando rubs his neck ruefully. “Yeah, couldn’t resist her even with the bet.” He winks at you.
You bite your lip guiltily. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble.”
He just smiles and pulls you into his lap. “I’d lose every bet in the world for you.”
Ignoring his cheering friends, he kisses you tenderly. You sigh happily, running your fingers through his curls one last time.
If this bet means sacrificing his lovely locks, you’re definitely making up for it tonight.
***
Despite your pleas and protests, Lando is determined to go through with the bet.
“I gave my word, love. Gotta shave it off,” he says, giving you an apologetic look.
You pout sadly. “I can’t believe I’m losing your beautiful curls because of my lack of self-control.”
He tilts your chin up to look at him. “Hey, no blaming yourself. I’m the idiot who made the bet in the first place.”
Lando retrieves his electric razor while you perch on the bathroom counter’s edge, watching mournfully. Taking a deep breath, he turns it on and brings it to his head.
You gasp as the first patch of hair falls away. “No, wait!” You cry, grabbing his wrist to stop him.
He raises his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”
Your lower lip quivers. “I can’t watch this. It’s too traumatic!”
Lando laughs and wraps you in a hug. “Oh darling, it’s just hair. It’ll grow back.”
You cling to him dramatically. “But I love your hair so much!” Running your hands through his soft curls one last time, you sigh. “At least let me help, so I can savor every last strand.”
He smiles and hands you the razor. With a heavy heart, you get to work shaving off his glorious locks. You go slowly, offering up little eulogies along the way.
“Goodbye right sideburn, you always looked so sharp.”
“Farewell beautiful crown curls, so bouncy and free!”
Lando tries not to laugh at your antics. “It’s not dying, love, it’s just hair.”
“Shush, let me mourn in peace,” you sniffle.
As the last section of hair falls away, you set down the razor with a forlorn sigh. Lando runs his hand over his newly bare head and checks himself in the mirror.
“Well, what do you think?” He asks.
You bite your lip, holding back a groan. He looks so ... bald.
Lando frowns at your expression. “That bad, huh?”
“No, no!” You assure him. “Just different. I’ll get used to it.” You manage a weak smile.
He grins and pulls you close. “Don’t worry, I’m still the same Lando underneath.” To demonstrate, he begins trailing kisses down your neck.
You shudder involuntarily. “But ... what will I hold onto now when you’re going down on me?” You ask with distress.
Lando barks out a laugh. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” he promises, nipping at your earlobe.
Despite your mood, you can’t help but melt under his touch. You supposed you could get used to your bald Lando, though you already miss tugging on those luscious curls.
Later that night, Lando makes good on his promise to prove he can still drive you wild, hair or no hair. And as you lay tangled up afterward, blissfully sated, you have to admit — he still has some serious skills.
Running your hand over his stubbly head, you grin mischievously. “Well done, Mr. Worldwide.”
He gives you a confused look. “What?”
“You know, like Pitbull!” You laugh. “The bald head reminds me of him. I’ll have to come up with more bald nicknames now.”
Lando groans playfully. “What have I gotten myself into?” But he’s smiling as he pulls you in for another deep kiss.
***
It’s the morning of the Las Vegas Grand Prix and you’re with Lando in the paddock for his pre-race interviews. He’s got a cap pulled down over his head but it’s not enough to stop the questions.
“Lando, you’re looking a bit different today,” the reporter remarks with a wry smile. “What’s with the new hairstyle?”
Lando tugs the cap lower, laughing awkwardly. “Oh you know, just felt like a change.”
“A pretty drastic change though, no? Don’t think we’ve ever seen you with a shaved head before.” The reporter presses further.
“Ah, well ...” Lando trails off, glancing at you sheepishly. You give him an encouraging nod, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“Let’s just say I lost a bet and leave it at that,” Lando finally mutters.
The reporter looks like he wants to inquire further but Lando steers the conversation to the race ahead. You let out a relieved breath, glad the subject seems to have been dropped.
But after the interview, a boisterous voice rings out behind you. “Oi, Lando! Heard you lost No Nut November!”
You and Lando whirl around to see Daniel Ricciardo sauntering over, his eyes glinting with mirth.
Lando groans. “Who told you that?”
“A little birdie named Max Verstappen who heard from Alex who heard from George,” Daniel chuckles. “So come on, give us the details! Was it the work of this lovely lady here?” He winks at you exaggeratedly.
You know your face must be scarlet now. Lando just stammers helplessly, which makes Daniel laugh harder.
“No need to be shy! Happens to all of us.” He leans in conspiratorially. “Though gotta say mate, I’m impressed you even made it close to halfway. If I had a girl like that waiting at home? Wouldn’t last a week!”
“Daniel!” Lando blurts out but he’s fighting back laughter now too. You bury your face in Lando’s shoulder, torn between embarrassment and amusement.
“In fact ...” Daniel taps his chin thoughtfully. “Reckon you deserve a prize for making it through 14 days. Most blokes wouldn’t make it past five! Here ...”
He reaches up and plops his AlphaTauri cap onto Lando’s head. “A trophy for your noble efforts!”
Lando swats him away, snickering. “Piss off, mate.”
“Just spreading the love!” Daniel calls over his shoulder as he saunters off. “And remember — November is for nutting, not for nothing!”
Lando shakes his head, still chuckling. “Unbelievable. Remind me why I’m friends with him again?”
You finally lift your flushed face from his shoulder. “Because he’s ridiculous in the best way and makes everything fun?” You offer with a giggle.
“Too right, love.” Lando smiles and pulls you into a quick kiss. “Now wish me luck today, yeah? I’m off to claim my real trophy!”
You smoothe down his new AlphaTauri cap and kiss him again for extra luck. Even through your lingering embarrassment, Daniel’s antics have lifted the mood. And Lando does look pretty darn cute in that cap. Time to go get that podium!
***
By some miracle, Lando takes the chequered flag in Vegas, earning his first ever Formula 1 race win.
The team is ecstatic, mobbing him in the pits and spraying champagne everywhere. You’re jumping up and down, screaming yourself hoarse.
As he pulls into parc fermé, Lando yanks off his helmet and balaclava, his shiny bald head gleaming with sweat. Fisting the air triumphantly, he looks like the happiest man alive.
The podium ceremony and interviews pass in a blur of joyful chaos. Lando can’t stop beaming, gazing at the trophy in his hands like he can’t believe it’s real.
Finally you get him alone in his driver’s room, immediately jumping into his arms and kissing him fiercely. “You did it!” You shout gleefully.
Lando laughs, spinning you around. “I actually did it! This is the best day ever!”
You cup his face in your hands. “I’m so proud of you.” Kissing him again, you murmur, “Now it’s time for us to celebrate properly.”
A grin spreads across Lando’s face. “Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”
In response, you lead him toward the couch, peeling off his race suit and fireproofs along the way. You push him down on the leather, straddling his waist and capturing his lips hungrily.
Lando responds eagerly, his hands roaming your body. As you move together, his touches feel extra electrifying in the wake of his triumph.
Afterward, you lay wrapped in each other’s arms, basking in the afterglow. Lando presses soft kisses to your hair. “You were right, this is the perfect way to celebrate.”
You laugh, snuggling closer. “Mmhmm, I’m full of good ideas.”
He runs a hand over his head contemplatively. “You know, I think this new aerodynamic look might actually be my good luck charm. Maybe I should keep it?”
You bolt upright, glaring down at him in horror. “Don’t you dare! This is a temporary tragedy we must endure but the curls will return.”
Lando chuckles at your reaction. “Relax, love. I’m only joking.” He tugs you back down, nuzzling your neck. “Trust me, I miss my hair as much as you do. The second November ends, the curls are coming back.”
“Good,” you huff. “Bald is a very sexy look on some people but on you it’s just ... wrong.” You place a hand on his cheek. “I miss running my fingers through those soft locks. Your hair has always been one of my favorite things about you.”
Lando smiles up at you tenderly. “Don’t worry, I promise you’ll have your handsy little mitts full of my curls again before you know it.”
“I better,” you threaten playfully. “And you’ll look as dashing as ever.”
You kiss him again, conveying all the pride and affection overflowing from your heart. No matter what hairstyle he’s rocking, Lando is your champion. Though you can’t wait to see those luscious honey-brown curls again.
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alrightberries · 6 months
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nitroglycerine | k.bkg
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SUMMARY: "you wonder if katsuki's using part of his quirk— if this is what his nitroglycerine feels when it activates: warm in his hands, before it explodes."
alternatively, the weird in between of fuck buddies to lovers.
TAGS & WARNINGS: idiots to lovers, implied sex, both of you are bad at feelings
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"do you like me, katsuki?"
katsuki looks good tonight, you think. out in the balcony, bathed in moonlight and the soft glow from the lights of his room. the left side of his hair's bedhead mussed from where he'd slept next to you and he's wearing your hair tie on his wrist, hands nursing the #1 sexiest hero mug you'd gotten him as a gag gift for christmas two years ago that he swore he'd throw away.
he looks good tonight, you think, marked with little pieces of you. he looks like he's yours.
"fuck's that supposed to mean?" he doesn't answer the question, and you bite back a smile at the red tinting his cheeks. you tell yourself it's from the cold.
"c'mon," you nudge him with your shoulder. "do you like me?"
"no, you're annoying."
"oh, fuck you—"
"—again? you're greedy tonight aren't ya."
your cheeks warm. "that's not what i meant and you know it."
his shoulders shrug the slightest, and the teasing smirk he gives you feels far too close to a smile, one that he hides when he takes a sip from his hot chocolate.
"do you like me?" you repeat your question. this time he sighs, like the drama queen he is.
"yes, alright?" katsuki realizes too late that his words are a little too airy, a little too soft to be a snarky reply, so he amends it with "wouldn't let you mark me up if i didn't."
it's then that your eyes drop to the hickeys on his neck, trailing down his bare chest and disappearing into the hem of his sweats. you know you're no better with the finger shaped bruises on your thighs and the bite marks underneath your— his shirt.
you don't know why you like marking each other up so much. maybe it's because you both need to keep your lips preoccupied. katsuki doesn't like kissing, says it's too intimate for a friends with benefits situation. you've slept together, yes, multiple times, but you've never been... intimate, with him.
(that's a lie, your brain supplies. he's held you close late at night, fully clothed and feeling like putty in his arms when you tell him a shitty a joke that has him barking out a laugh, vibrations on his chest reverberating against your cheek; he's taken you out on not-dates, telling you to dress pretty, i'll pick ya up at seven and ended the night not in his bed but on his kitchen counter, with his sleeves rolled up and a cocky grin on his face when your eyes light up after he feeds you a spoonful of the lasagna he's cooking because he decided the restaurant couldn't make good food to save its life. he's the friend you sleep with every now and then, sure... but you haven't been just friends for a while now.)
you hum at his response, and it's followed by a light shake of your head. "i knew you'd say that," you mumble.
"if you knew what i'd say then what was the point of asking?"
you shrug. "wanted to hear it come from you."
he only nods in lieu of a reply, and you silently take the mug when he offers it to you, content when the hot chocolate warms your body before handing it back to him.
it's when he's taking a sip that you decide to ask, "do you love me?" and katsuki nearly spits out his drink. you're laughing and staring at him with amused eyes, and he's trying not to choke with a mutter of what the hell, y/n before he gathers his composure.
then he's tossing your question around his head and he looks at you. really looks at you.
your eyes look pretty tonight, he thinks. bare faced and smelling like his sheets, wearing the first shirt you saw when you opened his closet. he didn't bother telling you it was his favorite, not when you looked at him so sweetly when you asked him if you could borrow it, brain taking one look at you in his clothes and immediately deciding that this version of you is the sexiest and he can't help the way his hands are drawn to your waist, nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck and almost purring when he realizes he can smell his laundry detergent and soap mixed with your scent.
and yeah, your eyes look pretty tonight, he thinks. your eyes look pretty when they're only looking at him.
"no."
"you don't?"
"i don't."
there's a gust of wind that surrounds you, and he pulls you closer when he notices you shiver, mug forgotten on his little table. he's warm— unfairly so— when he brings his arms on either side your body, trapping you between the metal railing and his chest. when you risk a glance at him, red eyes are staring into yours, and your heart just about stops, all the air knocked from your lungs from the way he looks at you.
and then you compose yourself, lips curling into what you hoped was a teasing smile.
"liar."
"m'not lying,"
"you sure?"
"if you knew what i'd say then what was the point of asking?" he repeats his question from earlier. so you shrug, turning away from him and his intense gaze as you murmur, "wanted to hear it come from you."
there's a beat that passes, and katsuki's body is still behind you. you could almost hear the conflict in his head, his internal debate. one side wins over the other, you think, because your heart nearly jump out of your chest when the arms that were once beside your body suddenly find their way around your waist, and he rests his chin on your shoulder with a sigh.
"maybe if you ask properly," he finally responds, his warm hands finding your cold ones. you hope he doesn't notice the way your pulse speeds up at his touch.
"okay," you murmur, suddenly aware of just how close katsuki really is. you'd been close to him before, underneath his sheets. but it was never... intimate, like this. his face was never pressed into your neck, like this. his hands were never holding yours, like this.
and there's— there's a warmth in your chest, one you tell yourself is there because of how close he is. katsuki feels so warm pressed up against you and you're dizzy from the way his smell fills your senses, could feel his heart beat from where it's pressed against your back. you wonder if katsuki could feel yours, too; your heart, the way it's beating so fast you're sure it's going to explode. briefly, you wonder if katsuki's using part of his quirk— if this is what his nitroglycerine feels when it activates: warm in his hands, before it explodes.
"bakugou katsuki," you announce teasingly, biting back a smile when you feel him scoff. "do you love me?"
it was meant to be a joke, at first. asking him. like asking him stupid stuff like would you love me if i was a worm? but now that it's out there— properly, like he'd said— it feels a little too real, a little too soon. cheeks feeling a little too warm for the cold air of the night, gaze a little too warm to be just a friend.
you aren't sure if you'd be heartbroken or relieved if katsuki said no— properly, like he'd said. you could laugh it off, write it off like the joke it was meant to be and you could go back to being... whatever the hell it is you two are. maybe this time you bit off more than you could chew, maybe you should've backed off when you still could and take back your question, crawl back into his bed before you actually do feel what his nitroglycerine does before it happens: warm in his hands, before it explodes in your face.
but you've never been good at knowing what's bad for you.
"well?" you murmur at his silence, "do you?"
"you want the good answer or the real answer?" his question makes your heart drop. it's a cold douse of water to your face, and suddenly you can feel the chilly air again, hands too cold for your own good. it's nitroglycerine, exploding in your face.
"well?" he murmurs when your reply takes too long for his liking. then he's leaning in, somehow making the already small space between you even smaller, and his eyes glance down to your lips. your heart begins to race again.
maybe it's the way he's looking at you that makes you feel brave, brave enough to glance at his lips, too, before you murmur, "the real answer."
your heart's in your throat and his heart's on his sleeve, but katsuki doesn't reply. instead, his hand's on your cheek and your eyes are fluttering shut, lips tingling at the sear of his kiss. only this time, it's katsuki who feels it— what nitroglycerine feels like: warm in your touch, explosions on his lips.
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golbrocklovely · 8 months
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our girlfriend // sam and colby
A/N: it's my bday and i'm giving you guys a present... aren't i so nice lol i know it's been a LONG time since i posted any form of a fic, and i'm sorry about that. but hopefully this makes up for it a bit. if you squint hard enough, this could basically be a 'careful what you wish for' fic as well (but not really since the boys are just normal and not a demon or vampire). hope you enjoy and let me know what you think !
prompt: you and the boys always had your fun, but you never tried it in public. and now they want to. || fem!reader x sam and colby
trigger warning: SMUT, threesome (but no actual sex), no solby, you are sam and colby's girlfriend…. lucky you lmao, fingering, oral fixation/finger sucking, bossy!bf sam and colby, also very possessive, a wee bit of degradation, mentions of baby, darling, baby girl, love, good girl, slut, and it also takes place slightly in public (but away from everyone)
word count: 2003
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Guys, are you sure about this?" You questioned hurriedly as you rushed up the stairs.
Sam looked back at you, his voice loud over the thumping music of the party. "Yeah, c’mon Y/N. There’s no one up here."
"Probably for good reason." You grumbled.
"You’ve never been one to follow the rules. Don’t start now..." Colby smirked devilishly, his voice right by your ear as he passed you on the stairs.
Reaching the top and with each one of them holding a hand, Sam and Colby pulled you down the hallway. They stopped right outside a door tucked away from the stairs. If someone came up, they would see you. Your heart raced at the idea alone.
Colby leaned his back against the wall as you looked around the corner, glancing at the stairs nervously. He rolled his eyes, pulling you against him. "Baby, you have nothing to worry about. You're with us. When have we ever gotten caught?"
You glared up at him, annoyed. "You literally have a rap sheet that proves you don't know how to hide."
"Someone's feeling bratty tonight..." Sam joked playfully, leaning across from you and Colby.
You gazed at him over your shoulder, brows furrowed. "I'm just worried about someone finding out about us. God knows how the fans would react if they knew..."
Colby's finger lightly turned your chin so that you were looking at him. "Knew about what? That we both love to play with our girlfriend, and now we're trying it out in public?"
You stuttered, the lustful glint in Colby's eye making you blush. "Y-yes. Exactly that."
Colby pouted. "But I thought you loved when we both touched you."
"And tasted you..." Sam replied, sounding closer.
Colby leaned his face in, getting close to yours. "And fucked y-"
You cut him off, slapping his chest. "That's not the issue I have. It's the getting caught part. Or someone seeing us."
"But that's what's fun about this," Sam turned you around to face him, Colby's hands still resting low on your hips. "You're getting fucked as a party is being thrown downstairs in our honor. And if anyone tries to find us, they'll see us all up here... with you. So we gotta make sure we don't get caught."
"Especially since no one is allowed up here." You mentioned again.
"Well, we're allowed up here. No one else is." Colby informed.
Your face scrunched up, "I thought the owner said-"
"The owner can suck my dick. If I want to fuck my girlfriend in a house I'm renting out for a party, I'm gonna do it wherever I want to." Colby ranted.
"Excuse me." Sam raised an eyebrow, a light glare thrown at Colby.
"Right, my bad, Sam. Our girlfriend." Colby responded, smiling.
Sam sighed, "Much better."
"Speaking of...." Colby slid his hand under your skirt, pressing your damp panties against your swollen sex. "Our girlfriend is very wet."
You gasped, your body arching against Colby's. He exhaled as your ass grinded into his crotch. His breath was hot against your neck, raising goosebumps across your cool skin.
Sam's eyes danced up your body, studying it as Colby kneaded your clit slowly. Sam hummed when his gaze reached your face, his voice low, "What am I gonna do with you?"
"Kiss me." You shuddered, grabbing his shirt lightly and tugging him closer.
"She's so aggressive when she's needy." Colby chuckled darkly, applying pressure to his movements.
Sam nodded, leaning in and kissing you tenderly. You could barely breathe to begin with but having Sam's mouth on yours and Colby's fingers on your clit, you felt yourself get lightheaded. It was so overwhelming already, and they barely had done anything to you. God, or the devil himself, only knew what they had in store for you.
As Sam's tongue glided into your mouth, tangling with yours, Colby moved your panties out of the way and slid two fingers inside of you, pumping them at an achingly slow pace. Your breath hitched, a moan falling from your lips. Lucky for you, it was muffled by Sam's mouth.
"What did we say, baby girl? You can’t be too loud. And we know how loud you can get." Sam teased.
"Even with the music playing, they would be able to hear her." Colby sneered jokingly.
"Is that what you want? To get caught? To have all of our friends know you're being fucked by us? That you're needy for us?" Sam grunted, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.
"I think that's what she wants. She loves to pretend to be such a good girl, but in reality, she's bad." Colby snickered into your ear quietly. "She's a little slut for us."
"Our slutty little girlfriend who can't stop herself from moaning when we touch her." Sam closed the space between you two, gripping your chin so that your eyes were looking into his piercing blues. "You're so pathetic and horny, aren't you?"
You shook your head, a whimper falling from your lips as Colby slid another finger in. You bit your lip hard to not make a noise, knowing it wasn't doing much to help.
"We might have to cover her mouth, since she can't listen." Colby hissed mischievously, biting your neck softly.
"I know the perfect way to do that." Sam placed the tips of his index and middle finger against your lips, "Open." Your lips fell open instantly, and he snaked them in, resting them against your tongue. "Suck."
You immediately started sucking his fingers, whining around them and bobbing your head up and down. Sam growled lowly at the sensation of you sucking off his fingers. He pushed himself closer to you, sandwiching you in between him and Colby completely. You couldn't have escaped their hold if you wanted it, and you definitely didn't want to.
"Her mouth feels amazing, Colby. You'll have to give it a try soon." Sam closed his tightly, focusing on the feeling.
"I remember how good she feels, trust me." Colby leaned down, pressing his lips to your ear, "You always need something in your mouth, don't you darling? You can't help but want to suck on something. On one of us."
Colby's fingers sped up, a groan deep within your throat rocketed out, stifled by Sam's fingers. You kept grinding your ass against Colby, who now was hard in his leather pants. He followed your movements, his hips pressing hard into you. Your hand gripped his wrist, clinging onto the hand that was fucking you. Your other hand held Sam close as your nails dug into his back.
"Are you getting close, baby girl? Do you want to come?" Sam barked.
You mewled, nodding your head desperately. Sam tsked, leaning his forehead against yours. "Not yet, baby. I think you need a bit more help."
His other hand drifted down, stopping right above your clit. He teased you for a moment, the tip of his finger brushing across it ever so gently. Your body shook and both boys laughed.
Colby feigned concern. "Aw Sam, c’mon now. You gotta be nice to her. She's not gonna make it."
"I guess we traded places this time, since you're the one that's always so mean to her." Sam quipped sassily.
Colby faux gasped, "Me? Being mean?" He leaned into your ear, whispering, "I'm not mean, am I love? You like when I treat you rough. I know you do, sweetheart."
You closed your eyes tight, trying to hold yourself back from exploding. Both of their motions were all too much for you, but you didn't want it to end just yet. You needed it to keep going. You just loved being theirs.
Sam pushed his lower half into his hand that was rubbing your clit, both boys now grinding against you. Their cocks were hard, and they were touching you in all the right places; you could feel your orgasm building up to its breaking point. You needed them to say you could let go. You weren't sure how much longer you could last.
"Feel how hard you've made us, baby girl. You want us inside of you? Wanna get filled up by us?" Sam rasped.
You whined and nodded mindlessly. You couldn't even form words if you want to.
"She's squeezing my fingers so tight. God, I can't wait to taste you, Y/N. You're getting so close..." Colby panted. "Maybe we should let her come."
"Only if she deserves it. Do you, baby? Do you deserve to come? Have you been good for us?" Sam taunted, staring into your eyes.
You moaned around his fingers in agreement, shaking your head again.
Sam bit his lip, glancing at Colby for a moment. "She has been following our demands very well. She made me hard just by sucking my fingers."
"You've been such a needy, good girl for us, haven't you? You take our fingers so well. Do you wanna come? Say you want to." Colby lowered his voice, "Use your words, love."
You choked around Sam's fingers, a 'I wanna come' mumbled through his digits.
Colby harshly snapped in your ear, "Who owns this cunt, darling?"
You grunted out a 'You do', eyes pleading with Sam to say you could let go.
Sam smirked, an almost evil glint in his eye. "I think she can come now. What about you, Colby?"
Colby paused, his fingers still moving at their fast pace. Your body was hot, sweat dripping down your back. Your face was flushed, and you felt like you couldn't breathe as you waited for Colby to say the magic phrase.
He kissed right under your ear sweetly, his lips then pressed against you. "Come for us, baby."
You cried out around their fingers, your body spasming in ecstasy. Sam finger fucked your mouth, making sure your screams weren't heard over the music as he sped up his fingers on your clit. Colby kept the pace as you exploded around him, your juices running down your thighs. He cooed in your ear, speaking softly that you were a good girl, a good slut for them, and that you were so beautiful when you come.
Your pleasure slowly subsided, Sam and Colby resting against you and their motions still. They breathed with you, kissing along your neck and face as you relaxed.
You were about to say something when all three of you could hear someone walking up the stairs. Sam backed up, removing his hands from your mouth and clit. Colby spun you both around, facing the person coming up the stairs. It was a scramble to make sure you looked okay, and you weren't even sure if you did.
A tall man in an all-black suit, one of the security guards, looked down the hallway at you all. "Excuse me, you can't be up here."
"Uh, sorry about that. My girlfriend wasn't feeling too well and the line for the bathroom was kinda long so we figured she could come up here and use this one." Colby smiled, placing you in front of him to cover up his hard on.
"Are you feeling better now, miss?" The man asked, looking at you.
Sam cut you off, thankfully; since you weren't sure if you could even speak yet. He cupped his hands in front of his body, trying to cover himself up. "Yeah, she's good. We'll make sure she feels better later tonight, though. Just to be safe."
You glanced at Sam, and he gave you a little wink.
"Please follow me back downstairs to the party." The man stated.
You trudged down the hall towards the man, Sam and Colby following close behind. Once the man turned around, you could hear Sam smack Colby's arm, saying 'She's our girlfriend' to him. They bickered back and forth until you got to the bottom of the stairs.
Colby smacked your ass playfully, his voice loud enough for only you to hear, "Don’t go too far, Y/N. We're not done with you yet."
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chrollohearttags · 4 months
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random firefighter!ace headcanons (while I finish this fic!)
warnings: nothing too bad! some fluffiness and silly!ace, a few nsfw things under the cut, alcohol mentions, food mentions
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firefighter!ace is surprisingly a neat freak. At least around the firehouse..he does weekly inspections and is very meticulous about how the equipment is stored. He has his own little system and everything. (his apartment is another story though!)
firefighter!ace thinks he is the appointed cook in the firehouse. Mans throws down in the kitchen and will make enough to feed an army. (he’s half Filipino in my head idc idc) so he cooks a lot of Asian fusion dishes, recipes passed down from his mom and family and yes, he insists on making them for (y/n) too on ‘date’ nights.
firefighter!ace is a CLOWN and a half. He keeps everybody in high spirits, especially after a rough call. Dancing, playing music, cracking jokes, playing cards..he will never let his team stay down for too long! (hc that he loves Bad Bunny, J Balvin and a lil bit of dancehall 🤭.) went to the club with (y/n) once and you were shocked when you started whining on him and he knew what to do with it!
firefighter!ace keeps teddy bears and dolls in the fire truck in case there are children at the scene and he always rushes to comfort them.
firefighter!ace spends his days off hiking, camping, running and doing a bunch of nature-centric activities. He loves the outdoors and wants to share that passion with you! He gets sooo excited when you agree to go on a hike with him up to this canyon he’s trekked a few times, surprised when you beat him up there. “You’re really good at this, rookie. You can run more than your mouth.” “Nah, I just wanted to kick your ass, that’s all.”
firefighter!ace is an animal lover. He has two cats and the firehouse dog is his literal son. He pets random animals whilst out at the park and will come over to your apartment just to ignore you and play with your kittens! “Anyways, I’m not here for you. I came to see my daughter, thank you.” 😭
firefighter!ace is the life of the party and that even gets worse when he drinks. He can handle his liquor pretty well so he doesn’t fall all over the place but he is way too lively when he’s drunk!
firefighter!ace does have a bit of a fashion game. He and his brother are sneaker heads and collect them so his closet is filled with all sorts of shoes. He has more a rustic, indie/hippy aesthetic but he dresses really nice when he needs to.
firefighter!ace loves the idea of sneaking around the firehouse with you. Getting in quickies with the very little free time and privacy you have. Covering your mouth as he gets you up against the wall in the bunks. “C’mon, rookie. We only have a few minutes, don’t get us caught.”
firefighter!ace is a back kisser, neck licker and suck toes. He’s so attentive and loving when you guys do get your alone time. Especially when you’ve had an attitude all week and he knows what you need. He will give you the slowest strokes while looking deep in your eyes and prone bone because he doesn’t want you doing any of the work. “Is this what you wanted, baby? Needed me stretch you out? Should’ve just said that from the beginning.”
firefighter!ace lovesssss showering together. Not just for the sexual aspect but the intimacy of it. Touching and feeling every inch of your skin, kissing you real slow underneath falling water and holding your face. Seeing your skin all lathered up in soap and just admiring every inch of your body. “You’re so soft..I love it.”
firefighter!ace gets so intense and passionate, becoming a little possessive..fucking you like it’s the last time after extremely dangerous calls. If there was an instant where your life has been in danger or he was scared of losing you, he all but puts you through the mattress, making you whimper and claw at the sheets as you scream his name. He cries into your neck/shoulder, just confessing his feelings. “You’re mine..you got that? Don’t you ever scare me again.”
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strawbeerossi · 7 months
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Sunday Mornings
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: When you get a morning off to share together, Spencer just wants to be as close as he can to you.
Content/Warnings: Cockwarming, reader and Spencer are fluffy, some slightly sub!Spencer.
Word Count: 0.6K
Kinktober Day Three: Cockwarming
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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“You’re being so clingy today Spence.” You’d commented, stating the obvious due to the fact that Spencer was laying on top of you. His head rested comfortably against your chest as he relished in your fingers twisting and pulling at strands of hair. 
“I just wanna be close to you. We hardly ever get time to lay together.” That much was true, there was a reason that he is as touch starved as he is at the moment. Holding him doesn’t bother you, so you don’t complain.
Instead, you let out a content hum. “Yeah.. We got lucky today though. I think we should bask in it to the fullest extent.”
It had been two hours since you both woke up, not even opting to get out of bed as you were curled up with one another under the sheets, the warm glow of the early morning sunrise seeping in through your curtains. It was something straight out of a romance movie. 
“I agree. I love being here with you. Just us. No unsubs, no team..” Spencer was offering a soft smile while letting his head lift slightly, his honey colored eyes glistening from the sunlight gleaming off of them. “I know it’s probably too early but I have a request.” 
“Too early? Are you trying to have sex with me, Dr. Reid?” Your words were light, teasing as you crinkled your nose in a fond manner. The words had his cheeks bright red, head shaking rapidly. “No! I mean, I like having sex with you but I don’t wanna do that now.. Ask me later.” It was his turn to joke without clearing his throat.
“I wanted to ask if I could..” He began while blushing once more. “Put uh, put it inside?” 
His awkwardness was cute, the way he felt weird mentioning sex or saying things alone with dick, pussy, anything really. 
“You want to put your cock inside of me?” You ask, filling in the gaps. You spoke fluent Spencer Reid after three years of being with him.
“Y-yes.” The mere thought caused his cock to harden. “I just wanna be close to you.” He added softly while pushing himself to sit up some.
“You can do that, baby. You know that you can just ask next time.” Your words were teasing as your hips lifted off the mattress, panties and bottoms being tugged down your legs, your partner’s eyes trailing down your naked lower half while a little whine slipped from his lips.
“Come on, Spence.” Your words were soft and sweet, your hand coming down to gently tug the sleep pants down his legs along with his boxers. “Hold on, make sure to lick your hand first.” You commanded, a soft hum leaving your lips while watching the male nod quickly, always following instructions so well. 
As his tongue licked the palm of his hand, he gave his hardened cock a few strokes before he was aligning the thick head with your glistening pussy. “Go ahead, I’m comfortable.” Your assurance made the male nod while his shaft was slowly sinking inside of your inviting warmth. It was enough to elicit a little whimper as he let his eyes flutter shut.
As he lowered his body down to lay on you again, he was shifting to get comfortable while letting his hands slowly wrap around your torso. You had to sit up a bit to allow his arms to engulf you in a hug but you weren’t complaining at all.
“I just wanna lay with you all day like this, not even move. So warm.” His voice was slurred, already dozing once more. Getting time to enjoy each other’s presence was rare, just as rare as getting a good nap at any point of the day. You’d continued your movements, nails lightly scratching Spencer’s scalp to lull him into a peaceful sleep.
The soft snores filling the room caused a soft laugh to leave your lips, eyes closing as you let your eyes flutter shut. This was like heaven. Warmth, wrapped up in one another intimately while savoring every single moment together.
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1K notes · View notes
murdrdocs · 1 year
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saber tooth | f. odair
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description. just two days out from the Games, your mentor and best friend, finnick odair, comes to your room late at night in a mutual fit of insomnia to fulfill your (potentially) dying wish 
includes. SMUT 16+, fem!reader, oral f!receiving, fingering, loss of virginity sans p in v, canon-complicit angst, mentions of finnick’s trafficking, best friends to lovers, reader’s a tribute, finnick’s her mentor, extremely brief misunderstandings, soft dom finnick, pleasure dom finnick, brief mention of drug use (one line), finnick and annie were never together but he mentored her, he rlly cares abt r :((, giggly sex (sometimes), throw away line abt lack of body hair but i rlly like body hair
a/n: whaddup whaddup! this started as a blurb but it um ,,, clearly expanded. there’s no p in v simply bc im so tired rn however i would like to continue this in the future if my mind would allow it :) also the title has nothing to do with the fic i was just listening to easily by chuck inglish
word count: 4k+ 
part 2
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A week of anticipation, festivities, and celebration for the Capitol, was a week of anxiety, tears muffled into pillows, and wishing to be somewhere else for you. 
The week leading up to the 72nd Hunger Games. 
The Reaping, Opening Ceremony, and the three days of training that followed were mostly a blur. Your body picked up on the techniques you would need to survive, and with the help of Finnick, you’d managed to commit them to memory. You remembered the way you’d been trained to sit and talk and the jokes you should slip into conversation with Caesar tomorrow night. 
All of their training was working, and Finnick had told you that you had a high chance of making it out of that area. A high chance. Nothing was guaranteed at this point in your life. Which is why you needed to do a few final things. 
The door to your bedroom slides open. You lift your head from the pillow and squint. There’s a little light coming from the hallway, and it backlit the figure. But even without it, you would know who was coming to see you. The only person who’d been coming to see you since the arrival at the Tribute Center. 
“Hey, Finn,” you mumble, resting your head back against the pillow that’s always cool. 
Finnick takes a few steps into your room, stopping to flick a switch that only turns on the lamps beside your bed, and the two ambient ones in the corners. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” his voice is raspy, as if he’s tired, but not to the point of already greeting sleep. It’s a little later than it should be, you were recommended to have gone to sleep two hours ago but you couldn’t. There was too much going on in your head, too many unsaid words and undone actions. You couldn’t sleep with your consciousness this awake. 
Finnick voices the matter. “You can’t sleep, can you?” 
You shake your head, deciding to sit up a little, your bare lower half still secure underneath the thick comforter. Your room was always cold, and the silk sheets mirrored the temperature. Physically, you were the most comfortable you’d ever been, wearing the softest cotton undergarments, and a silk button up nightshirt, your toes warm beneath fuzzy socks. But the weight on your mind was the complete opposite. 
With the way Finnick looks at your face, he can tell just how exhausted you are. 
“Want something to help with that?” He asks as he sits at the edge of the bed, close but entirely too far from you. “A drink? Pills? The Capitol has it all, you know.” The way he says it is the opposite of marveling, the words laced with annoyance and frustration. His tone prompts a small smile from you. 
“‘M okay. I trust my body to do what it’s supposed to.” Finnick’s head is turned down, but you see the way the corner of his lip curls up. 
He lifts his head to fully smile at you, one of sympathy and pity and sadness. His hand reaches out and his palm rests over the outline of your shin. Far too many layers are between the bare skin on both of you, but you don’t say so. You just give Finnick an equally sad smile, expressing your dismay for your situation, and you begin to pick at your nails in your lap. 
“What’re you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
Finnick shakes his head. “No such luck for me either.” He shrugs as if he’s used to it and you remember that he’s been in this position too. Just a few years ago, a young boy, your best friend, was sitting in this bed, with similar thoughts weighing on his mind. And now his best friend was in that position. 
You push the sheets back, exposing the beginnings of the skin on your thigh, and you pat the space beside you. “C’mon,” you encourage, not ceasing your patting until Finnick scoffs and slides his slippers off, crawling up to slip under the covers with you. 
The bed is larger than you’d ever seen, something your escort called a ‘bed fit for a king’, but Finnick chooses to sit right beside you, the heat of his body warming yours. 
“We could watch something. What plays on the television in the Capitol?” Finnick’s sitting so close to you that you can feel him shrug. Whenever you reach over to the bedside table, pulling the drawer open to grab the remote, you come back to sit even closer to him, where your arms are pressed flush against each other. 
“Mostly shows about the lives of celebrities here.” 
You gasp, turning to face him. “Is that rumor about you appearing on some reality show true?” Finnick’s ears redden and that’s enough confirmation that you need. Your head throws back with a hearty laugh, and you click on the TV with hopes of finding an episode. 
Finnick sits quietly beside you as you click through the channels, reading the titles and watching maybe a second or two of content before you decide to try the next thing. When you’ve gone through most channels, you land on the one that will play the Games. 
He says your name, as a warning perhaps, but you click it anyway, seeing that they’re talking about you. 
“Now the odds of this one making it out are pretty high. She’s pretty, smart, and trained by the Finnick Odair,” a clip of you and Finnick appears, one that must’ve been taken backstage during the Opening Ceremony. He’s standing close to you, crouched down just enough to meet your eye level. You’re obviously nervous, and he’s obviously attempting to soothe those nerves, cracking jokes with a hand held to your heart, both of yours over it.  “The Capitol’s Prince.” The announcer pronounces those words clearly, enunciated, making sure every late night viewer understands Finnick’s alternate title. 
Clips of Finnick throughout the years show and you grow silent, watching how he commands a room better than you ever could. 
“If she were to make it out, I’m sure she could become the Capitol’s Princess, right?” The announcer smiles just as the remote is snatched from your hands and the TV is clicked off, ridding the bedroom of the colorful hues and leaving you and Finnick with the yellow light from your lamps. 
“Why did you–?” Finnick’s interrupting. He’s thrown the remote to the side of him and he’s turned to face you. 
“I want you to make it out of the Games, I really do.” You nod, watching the way his chest rises and falls with breaths that fill the hesitant silence. “But, I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you.” 
“What do you mean? You don’t want me to be loved and adored by the Capitol?” You say it a tad bit sarcastically, but your tone dulls down when you notice how serious his face is. 
He shakes his head. “No, I really don't.” You scoff, beginning to get upset over the idea that a night that was turning peaceful, began to turn on its head. “Because everything comes with a price here,” he says your name, making sure you’re listening. “The ‘love’ the Capitol has for me is ingenuine, they love me like I’m an object. Not a person with thoughts and feelings.” 
“Finnick, I don’t think I understand.” But you do, you really do. 
He tells you as much, that same sad smile from earlier on his lips. 
Before you can speak, he does. “Look, I came in here to ask you what you want.” 
Your eyebrows furrow. 
“Before the Tributes I mentor get sent off, I like to fulfill their wish. In case they don’t…”
“In case they don’t make it back.” He nods. “So a dying wish?” Another nod. 
“So, what d’you want?” 
You know what you want. You’ve wanted it since you were a teenager, watching Finnick, the most loved victor, leave for the Capitol and come back weeks later. Since you watched him train Annie Cresta and everyone, including yourself, believed there to have been something between them. Since he walked into your room just 20 minutes ago. 
“What I want, I don’t think I can ask you for.” You speak low, your voice a whisper. Your head rests on the headboard behind you, turned to face Finnicks. 
He shakes his head gently. “I have connections. I can guarantee almost anything.” 
“No, Finn.” You don’t think you can ask him for this. Especially with what he’s essentially just told you. It would be selfish, it would be insincere, it would ruin the friendship you have between you two. 
“I can’t.” 
His head’s already facing yours, and he brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing the skin. 
“Yes, you can.” 
“No, Finn, I can’t.” Your eyes sting, as does your nose, and you know there’s no use in pretending the tears aren’t there. He’s seen them, he’s acknowledged them by swiping his thumb under your eye, catching the first drop. 
“I would do anything for you. Just say the word.” 
You search his eyes, his face, the tip of his ears, his Adam’s Apple. You’re looking for his tell. But it’s not there. It’s just Finnick. Your Finnick. And he wants the best for you. 
You’re the most vulnerable you’ve ever been at this moment; sitting in a bed in the Tribute Center, just two days out from the Hunger Games, a period of uncertainty that is life or death; your best friend, and unrequited crush, as your mentor, having to hold your pieces together at least until the end of this. 
There’s no point in hiding anything. You know you need to lay it all out. So you do. 
“Even take my virginity?” 
The air is still. Stiff. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t breathe. His thumb halts. He doesn’t blink. 
You sit there, watching him, holding in the sob that threatens to wrack across your body. 
“Forget it. I’m sor–” 
“Yes.” 
“What?” 
“Yes.” 
There’s a moment where you don’t act. A moment where disbelief trickles down your body like the tears from your eyes do on your face. 
“Finn…” 
“I would do anything for you. I have wanted you since we were young, but I thought…” 
“Doesn’t matter what you thought then. Not anymore. We go from here now.” 
And there is the nagging possibility that all of this could be because of your potential fate. Maybe he’s humoring you, or letting you in on that final step of human intimacy before your life ends. You prefer not to think about it. Especially whenever Finnick’s moving closer to you and you can feel his breath on your lips. 
Your lips are almost touching, the tanned skin of his face is right in front of you, the same goes for the pink of his lips. He’s almost there, then he says, “Are you sure?” 
“‘M sure.” And Finnick is kissing you. Finnick Odair is finally kissing you. 
He kisses you softly, sweetly, with precision and a gentle nature. As if he’s afraid that he’ll do something wrong and hurt you. 
You kiss him back in a similar fashion, just with added timidness that Finnick doesn’t possess. 
Your hands raise slowly, in choppy motions that are both due to your uncertainty, and the distraction of finally having the man of your dreams kiss you like you’re made of porcelain. But you manage to get your hands to Finnicks torso, palms pressed flat against his thin shirt so that you can feel the abs along his torso. 
You’ve felt them before, in time of play fighting, or whenever he would have you replicate his breathing or form. But touching along his torso in this circumstance is different. Now, your touch ignites a fire within you. It makes Finnick grip the back of your neck and pull you closer with one hand, the other sliding the covers away and hooking his hand at the back of your thigh, pulling your left leg over your right. 
Your hands slide down to the hem of his shirt, slowly starting to slide it up until he gets the hint and pulls away just enough for you to slide the shirt between you two, up and over his head. Then he’s back on you. 
When you sigh blissfully into his mouth, he starts to kiss you like he’s desperate to have you close. Like he wants to engulf your entire being until you’re intertwined. 
The best you can do is physically move closer to him, letting the hand on the back of your thigh guide you to straddling his lap. 
It’s then that Finnick pulls away from you. Your hands trail up to cup his cheeks, moving back to play with the golden blonde locks that seemed to never be out of place. 
He stares up at you, sea-green eyes pulling you even further into a state of enchantment. Whenever he tilts his head, eyes stuck on you, and kisses into your palm, you melt. His hand lifts to gently circle around your wrist, nimble fingers rubbing little circles into the skin. 
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Finnick speaks. “I need you to remember that even if I’m doing the work, you set the pace. You tell me what you like and don’t like. You tell me when to go and when to stop. Okay?” 
“Okay.” 
And then you’re back at it. His hands circle around to your lower back, pushing into the curvature to bring your chest closer to him. He uses the position to his advantage, dipping his head to kiss at the exposed bits of your skin; your neck, collarbone, the starts of your cleavage. He quickly becomes frustrated with the lack of skin, and you bite back a smile as you gently nudge his head back and begin to undo the buttons. 
He watches you in a trance-like state with a look that seems akin to awe. You can’t help but tease him just a bit, shifting in your position atop his crotch and slowing your work on the buttons. 
Finnick groans and his hands leave your lower back to push your own hands away, deciding to undo your buttons himself, grumbling something under his breath about you being a tease. 
When you giggle above him, Finnick has you pushed onto your back in what seems like the blink of an eye. Really, it did happen quick, but your eyes were already closed from giggling so hard, so reopening them to Finnick above you, your shirt opened and your barely confined tits in Finnick’s eyeline, is disorienting. 
“Jesus, look at you,” Finnick mumbles. And he is. His eyes are hungirly skirting over your figure, taking it all in. From your eyes, to the bra that you wear, all the way to the cotton panties that hug your hips. 
His gaze stops at your lower half for a while, watching your stomach rise and fall with your breaths and the way there’s definitely a little wet patch on your panties. 
“What am I gonna do with you?” He mumbles under his breath. The question is rhetorical, and meant only for him. But, in a fit of nerves, you answer anyway, needing to do something other than lay there. 
“I don’t know, Finn, there’s a lot that you can do. You can go down on me, give me your fingers, your cock.” 
His eyes lift to yours, shock evident within them. “Did you just say the word ‘cock’?” He laughs between the words, that perfectly pearly white smile greeting you. 
“Yeah,” you say, laughing through the syllables too. 
Finnick shakes his head with that smile still present. 
He swears under his breath but then his fingers are playing with the hem of your panties and you’re back under, focused on what he could possibly plan to do next. He hums, eyes on you, eyebrows raised. 
It takes you a second to realize what his intentions were, but you do soon enough. “Keep going. Please.” 
The tips of his fingers reach below the band of your panties. He begins to pull them down, just until your hip bones and the start of your mound becomes visible. At first, you disgraced the Capitols groomers' work of ridding your entire body of hair, but you can’t help but feel a little grateful that they did. You knew that Finnick wouldn’t care either way. 
You lift your hips, letting Finnick pull your panties over the curve of your ass. When they sit at the halfway point of your thighs, he lowers his head and presses his lips to the area right above the waistband. And he continues to do so, sliding your underwear down and kissing through the journey. 
The last kiss he gives you is on the arch of your foot, right before he guides the garment over the remaining part of your body, throwing them off to the side of the bed. 
Finnick sits back on his heels then, just looking at you, looking at your legs which are just almost crossed at the knee, your ankles together and one knee raised slightly above the other. You’re shielding the most vulnerable part of you, hiding it almost. But when his green eyes meet your center, briefly meeting your eyes, you slowly part your legs, allowing him to see you in all of your glory. 
Finnick sucks in a sharp breath of air, his chest rising with it. He doesn’t let it out until your legs are completely opened and bent at the knee, inviting him in. You sit halfway up on your elbows, watching him, waiting for him. 
It’s not long until he makes a move, just a few tense moments and then Finnick’s kicked into action. 
His calloused hands on your knees, sliding around to the back of your thighs as he lays on his stomach, directly facing your cunt. 
When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. “I wanna taste you, sweetheart. Just for a bit. Is that alright?” 
His eyes are visible over your mound, but they’re not focused on you just this once. They’re focused on your cunt, scanning it, taking it all in almost as if he’s committing this moment to his very strong memory. 
You’re a little starstruck, reckoning with the notion that Finnick wants to give you head. Therefore, you sit there in stunned silence, attempting to find the words to deliver your over enthusiastic agreement. But Finnick takes your silence negatively. 
“You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, honey. Just wanna make you feel good. That’s what I’m here for.” And there are those eyes again. They’re pleading, but also making you feel comfortable, reminding you that you’re in charge. 
You smile gently, nodding. “Yes.” 
And the first lick has your head spinning. His tongue is warm, and wet, and he licks a long stripe from your leaking entrance to your clit. It’s slow, and methodical. He licks your juices up, but they’re coming back tenfold by the time he’s pressed a kiss to your clit. 
A surprised moan pushes up your throat. The feeling has your hips pushing into his face on their own accord, your elbows slipping out from under you and your head throwing back onto the mattress. 
Finnick disconnects from you for just a second to let out a pleased groan, but the absence is too much for you already. You’re wiggling your hips, searching for him. 
Finnick laughs and the sound has heat rising through you. “‘M still here. Not leaving this pussy anytime soon.” 
He lives up to his promise immediately. His mouth’s back on you, licking and sucking on your most sensitive parts. 
It’s now that you remember how experienced Finnick is. How knowledgeable he is about the general spots of someone’s body. And he’s able to apply that knowledge to your body, with the help of your zealous responses. 
You’re moaning, your back arching, your hands gripping the sheets. Your knees bend more, your legs spread more, it’s all more and more and more. You want more from Finnick. You need more. 
You’re communicating that fact when you finally have enough courage to fist a hand into Finnick’s hair, and it’s like he’s rewarding you when he slyly begins to probe a finger at your tight entrance. 
You’re clenched, far from relaxed, but with a deep breath, you’re loose enough for him to slide in to the first knuckle, then the second, then all the way, his single digit comfortable within your walls. 
Finnick fucks you with his finger, aiding the penetration with his pretty pink lips around your pink nub. He sucks, the pressure making your head spin, your consciousness in the clouds to the point where you don’t notice another of Finnick’s deft fingers teasing your entrance. 
“Another?” he asks, voice barely able to be heard due to his proximity to your cunt. 
“Uh-huh,” is all the affirmation you can give. 
It’s a little tight and uncomfortable at first, but once his digits are evened out and curling in you, and his tongue is lapping up your juices like it’s water, you’re riding so high in a blissed out state that discomfort is the last thing on your mind. 
Your approaching orgasm becomes known to you quicker than you can anticipate. It’s like all of a sudden there’s tension in your lower abdomen, begging for your attention, begging to be released. 
“Finnick, Finn,” he hums, not stopping any of his ministrations. “‘M so close. Almost there.” 
You hadn’t thought it to be possible but Finnick gives you more. His fingers fuck you faster and harder, his cheeks hollow as he alternates between sucking along your nerves and stroking his tongue is the areas that you’re most sensitive. 
It feels so fucking good, a pleasure you’d never experienced in your life. You couldn’t imagine being in this position with anyone other than your best friend, someone you trusted with your entire being. It’s as if he knows your body better than you do, because sooner than you would’ve liked, your back is arching and your legs are lifting off the bed and your nails are digging into Finnick’s scalp, all signs that your orgasm is right there and you cum with a loud cry that melts into breathy moans. 
Finnick pulls his fingers out of your cunt but his mouth stays on you, placing gentle kisses and kitten licks along the slicked area. When your legs have lowered and your breath has evened out, he pulls his head away from you, a wince leaving his lips. 
“Darling,” he starts, receiving an affirmative hum in response. “You’re pulling my hair out.” 
“Oh, shit, sorry.” Your hand lets go of his hair, your body burning with embarrassment. But Finnick’s bright laugh and content smile soothes you. 
“‘S okay,” he mumbles as he leans up and presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. Your lips mold to his like they were created for each other, and the kiss is slow, methodical, loving. 
You whine when he pulls away, but his hands have already hooked under your thighs and he’s pulling you with him as he starts to sit back. 
You end up in the position you started in, sitting on Finnick’s lap, your hands on his shoulders. 
Under you, you can feel his bulge confined in his pants. You shift a little over it, your throat beating with your heart rate due to the anticipation. 
Finnick’s eyes close softly and his head throws back. Your hand rises to push back the bangs of his hair which lay on his forehead, in favor of resting your skin against his. 
“Sweetheart,” he groans. “We …. We can’t.” 
Your heart drops. 
“Huh?” 
“I wanna feel you, sweetheart, I swear.” His eyes open to stare at yours and you notice the sincerity in them. It doesn’t do much to lift your spirits, though. “But we can’t. Not yet.” 
Your eyebrows furrow, waiting for further explanation. It comes from him quickly. 
“I need you in your right mind in the Games. You need to be focused, and only thinking about survival. Nothing else.” 
“You’re so full of yourself.” 
He chuckles. “Maybe. But we have to play it safe.” A beat. “You trust me, right?” 
And you do. Wholeheartedly. 
3K notes · View notes
thetriumphantpanda · 7 months
Text
she a bad lil bitch, she a rebel | joel miller
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Summary | Joel has to teach you a damn lesson, just like always.
Pairing | Brat Tamer!Joel x F!Reader
Word Count | 4K
Warnings | brat tamer!Joel, softdom!Joel, praise kink, implied age gap, spanking, use of rope restraints, hair-pulling, edging, orgasm denial, squirting, (1) singular pussy slap, unprotected PiV sex, rough sex, oral sex (M&F receiving), face-fucking, fingering, dirty talk, breath play, biting, cum play/cum eating, reader is a bratty menace, aftercare(!), no use of y/n.
Authors Note | All I'm going to say is this came to me in a dream and I had to get it down on paper. Mostly written on my phone with very little proofreading, so any mistakes are my own and I will live and die by them. This is basically just pure filth. Enjoy, and happy birthday to that old man. I love him but I would give him the hardest time, just like reader.
Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi
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If there was one thing that you lived for, it was pushing Joel Miller’s patience. The poor man had wandered into Jackson, little girl in tow, looking worn and weary almost a year ago, and from the moment you set eyes on him, you just knew you had to give this old man a run for his money. 
You’d started subtle, flirting with him on patrol, taking his distaste at your attempt to talk to him at every second as a personal challenge to break him, to work him down just enough to make your move. After a couple of weeks, he’s started talking, mainly in single word answers, but you’d managed to slowly chip him down. 
Then came the weekly drinks at The Tipsy Bison, everyone on patrol usually went, apart from those scheduled to be out that day, but he’d started laughing at your jokes and had even opted to sit next to you on occasion. Then one night, he’d walked you home, you’d had one too many glasses of whiskey, kissed him on the porch but agreed it wasn’t right to fuck right then, but he’d come back, that next night, both of you sober, and you’d kissed him again, and the rest really was history. 
It’s late afternoon when he comes through his front door, toeing his boots off as the door slams behind him. You’ve been led on his couch for most of the afternoon, reading a book you’d plucked from his shelf – some nonsense Western that did nothing to keep your attention, but was enough to keep you occupied whilst you waited for him to come home. 
“Afternoon,” You sing to him as he shrugs his jacket off, hanging it on the coat stand near the door, “Good patrol?” 
“Was fine,” He grumbles, just like he always does, he swats at your legs to get you to move them enough for him to sit down, “Scoot,” You lift them up just long enough for him to ease himself onto the couch, before you put them back down on his lap, abandoning the book on the coffee table, “You sort the stuff in the kitchen like I asked?” 
“No.” You say simply, shaking your head, subtly digging the heel of your foot into the front of his jeans. 
His big palm circles your ankle, gripping in warning, “What about the sheets, you wash ‘em?”
“Did you see them pegged out when you came home?” You ask, sweetly, using your other foot now to dig into his jeans. 
“Will you fuckin’ quit it?” He seethes a little, other hand gripping your other ankle to still you, “What have you done all day, huh?” He implores, “I don’t keep ya around to lounge about lookin’ pretty.” 
You chuckle, “That’s exactly why you keep me around, old man.” 
“Shut up,” He squeezes at your ankles, “I asked you a question, you gonna answer me?” 
You shrug, “Woke up late,” You hold up one finger, “Felt horny so I got myself off,” Another finger, “Had a shower, used the last of that nice soap,” Another finger, “Made lunch,” Another finger, “And then led here reading one of your stupid books until you came home.” A final finger raised so you’re holding up and entire hand, palm facing towards him. 
You’re looking at him, all scowling face and dark eyes as his fingers wrap even tighter around your ankles. If you didn’t know him like you did, you’d be frightened, but you know he’s just thinking about the best way to deal with you. You wonder which of his lessons he’s going to bring out today as the look he’s giving you shoots straight down to your core. 
“I ask you to do two things,” He sighs, like he’s tired, “I ain’t exactly expectin’ slave labour from you, and you sit here and treat it like the Hilton?” 
“What’s the Hilton?” You ask, genuinely curious, thinking it must have been something from the times before all this, the times you were too young to remember. 
“Forget it.” He growls, and you think any minute now he’s gonna move to drag you off and show you just how bad you’ve been, but he doesn’t move, just sits with your ankles clasped in his hands, staring at the wall in front of him. 
“I’ve been so bad Joel,” You goad, trying to wriggle your ankles free, “Aren’t you going to teach me a lesson?” 
“No,” He spits, “I ain’t, because you like it too damn much, ain’t teachin’ you anythin’ because you never learn.” 
You pout a little, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “Promise to listen real hard this time Joel,” You promise, “Try and learn and much as possible.” 
“No,” He speaks, stern tone, with a warning squeeze to your ankles again, “Been a long day, don’t have the energy to bring you into line.” 
“Ah, I see,” You muse, “You’re feeling too old today.” 
“What did you just say t’me?” He’s incredulous now, good, you’ve got him just where you want him. 
“Oh, nothing,” You giggle, “Don’t worry.” 
It seems to do the trick though, because he’s pushing himself up from the couch, gripping at your wrist now to pull you up as well. He pushes you gently by the small of your back to get you to walk in front of him, “Upstairs.” Is the only instruction he gives, along with a playful swat to your bottom as you start up the stairs. 
He’s crowding behind you, always following just one step behind as you make your way to his bedroom, suddenly aware that you didn’t make the bed when you rolled out of this morning. That’s surely another black mark to your name, you think, as he sits down on the edge of the bed. 
“Get undressed.” 
This is new, normally Joel liked to be the one to unwrap you, but you start working on the buttons of your shirt, undoing it and dropping it to the floor, followed closely behind by your jeans, leaving you standing in front of him in your underwear, “All of it.” He demands. 
Your hands shakily reach behind you to unclasp your bra, dragging it from your body to land with the rest of your clothes. You drag your panties down your legs and step out of them, wrapping your arms across your chest to try and cover yourself a little. Joel reaches out a hand to you, which you take timidly, expecting him to pull you into him so he could put his mouth on you, anywhere, but instead, you find yourself pulled to him and folded over his lap so quickly you let out a surprised yelp. 
“So fuckin’ naughty, all the damn time baby,” He speaks softly, running his fingers down the length of your spine, “Don’t ever think you’ll learn how to be good.” 
His hand trails down to your bare ass, gripping the skin with his hands, using his other arm to press you down into his lap, rough material of his jeans rubbing against the sensitive peaks of your tits and the soft skin of your tummy. He rubs his rough palm over the globes of your ass, anticipation building in your body. Then, he pulls away, bringing his palm down onto your ass with a satisfying ‘smack’ ringing through the air. It takes a while for your brain to catch up with what’s just happened, but then the stinging sensation settles across your skin and has you wriggling to get away. 
“Keep still,” Joel chastises, free hand digging further into the small of your back to keep you from moving, “That’s one, how many do you think you deserve baby?” He muses, “Fifty?” 
“W-what?!” You exclaim, “N-no Joel, that’s too much.” 
“Forty then?” His palm is cradling at the skin he’s just spanked. 
“T-ten?” You offer feebly. 
“Oh baby girl,” He tuts at you, “Aim higher.” 
“Fifteen?” 
“How about we settle for twenty, baby?” He asks, all soft and sweet, “Twenty seems reasonable to me.” 
He doesn’t give you time to agree, it would seem the bargaining time is over, as he brings his palm back down onto your ass, harder than before, but in the same exact place. It jolts you on his lap, makes you cry out. The front of your body dragging against his denim. 
“How many?” He asks, rubbing his hand over the skin he’s just spanked. 
“Two.” You reply quietly, trying to keep the whimper you want to let out to yourself. 
“Good girl,” He praises, raising his hand again, “Keep count for me, okay?” 
Smack.
“Three!” You shriek, as his palm yet again connects with that same patch of skin. 
Smack.
“F-four.” 
Smack.
“Oh fuck,” You groan, trying to wriggle away unsuccessfully, it’s already too much, “Five!”
Smack.
This one doesn’t hurt as much; Joel’s shifted the assault of his palm onto the virgin side of your ass for you. You suck in a deep breath, try and blink away the tears that have formed in your eyes, as his hand massages where it’s just struck. He gives you another four on that cheek, and then switches back to the original, bringing his palm back down onto the skin that you’re sure is reddening by now. 
“Joel!” You cry out, tears dropping from your eyes now, but your body betrays you and arches your back for him, pushing your ass up like you’re asking for it, “E-eleven.” 
It carries on like that, five spanks to each cheek until you’re practically sobbing over his lap. You count the twentieth spank and a feeling of relief washes over you as he bends over you to press a light kiss to the sore skin he’s left. It makes you hiss, the contact, no matter how gentle he is with it. Then, he’s shifting you off his lap and onto the bed, letting you scurry away to the top of the mattress as he stands. 
The stinging of the skin of your ass is still making you sniffle as Joel shuffles to the bedside table, digging around in it. You’re not quite sure what he’s looking for, focusing mainly on trying to keep the red raw skin of your ass off the sheets, when he stands, throwing what he was looking for onto the sheets next to you. You turn your head and see the length of rope that he keeps in his drawer just for moments like this. 
“Arms up.” He short with you, sitting on his knees next to you. 
You do as you’re told, raising your arms above your head, still pushing your ass off the bed, but knowing soon enough you’ll be focused on something else that isn’t the stinging sensation of your ass. He takes your wrists and binds them together deftly, like it’s a walk in the park for him, like it’s something he does all the time. Then, once he’s sure your wrists are safely encased in rope, he takes the other end and ties it to his bed frame. He tugs slightly to make sure the way he’ll have you thrashing soon means that you won’t be able to pull yourself free. 
“That okay?” He asks gruffly, to which you nod, “Words, baby.” 
“Y-yes,” You stammer, “It’s okay.” 
“Remember your word?” He asks, stepping off the bed to partially undress, shucking his jeans and flannel off, but keeping his t-shirt and boxers on. 
“I remember.” 
He hums in approval, settling himself on the bed between your thighs, using wide palms to spread you open for him. You’re absolutely soaked, pussy dripping with slick from his palms and the way he’s trussed you up to his bed. 
Joel lets out a low whistle, letting his thumb rub up the length of your folds, “See,” He murmurs, using his thumb to gently spread the lips of your pussy to reveal your clit, already swollen and begging for attention, “Told ya that ya liked being punished too much,” He lets his thumb make a single swipe over that bundle of nerves, chuckling as you cry out, hips bucking to try and follow his finger, “She’s already fuckin’ soaked for me, baby.” 
You let out a high-pitched mewl, a begging sound that you hope tells him that you need him to touch you, you need to feel the pleasure you know he’s capable of after the pain he’s just inflicted. Mercifully he obliges, pressing the calloused pad of his thumb back to your clit, slick gathered there from before, as he starts rubbing in fast, precise circles. You’ve been so worked up that you can already feel the coil tightening in your tummy, and you know Joel can sense it as well, the way your hips are moving in time to his movements and the way you’re arching your back off the bed are a dead giveaway. 
You can feel yourself reaching that peak, so fucking close to tipping over the edge when he tears his hand away from your core and sits back, watching as you try and move back towards him, moaning in frustration at being left high and dry. You’re wriggling about, trying to close your thighs to rub them together to get yourself off, when he pushes a wide palm into your belly. He’s so powerful in the best way, stilling your movements immediately as you look up at him, face serious. 
“Remind me what the second thing on your list was this mornin’, baby?” He asks, voice as innocent as pie. 
You’re wracking your brain, lust making you more confused about what the fuck he’s even talking about. Then it dawns on you, what you’d told him downstairs. Felt horny so I got myself off. 
“You’ve got a big brain baby,” He coos, one palm squeezing your thigh, “I know you remember, so go on, tell me what you did.” 
“I g-got myself off.” 
“And is that what good girls do?” He asks, hand ghosting back to your pussy, knuckles of his hand brushing over your skin there. 
“N-no?” You question. 
“That’s right,” He hums, fingers slipping between your folds once more to gather some of the insane amount of slick that’s pooling at your aching entrance, “And besides, gettin’ to come is a reward, and I ain’t sure you deserve that right now.” 
His thumb is back on your clit now, moving in exactly the same way as before, with just the right amount of pressure to be building you back up. It feels so fucking good already and you know the way it feels when he tips you over the edge, you know how delicious it is and God, you want it so bad. 
“Please Joel,” You beg, all throaty and lust-filled, “I’ll be so good, I promise.” 
“Maybe ya should’a thought about that earlier,” He growls, “Before you came without me, thought you could do it better than me, huh?” 
“No!” You exclaim, because that’s definitely not true, you could never make yourself feel the way he does, “Oh God, please Joel.” You’re so fucking close, just a few more passes of his thumb and you could do it, you know you could, but so does he, which is why he’s tearing his thumb away from you again. 
You actually cry now, tears of frustration building in the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you thrash around on the bed, hissing when the rope around your wrist digs in but not caring all that much. 
“Quit your cryin’.” He chastises, hand on your hip to keep you still. 
You whimper, lip wobbling, trying to keep your cool. All you want is to reach out to him. You think if you could touch him, he would give you what you want, so you’re pretty sure that’s why he’s got you tied to the damn bed, to keep himself in check, to see this through, because Joel Miller always folds to you when you put your hands on him, weak man that he is. 
“You’re being so mean.” You cry out as he shifts, lying flat on his stomach so you can feel his breath on your aching pussy. 
“You were the one beggin’ to get punished baby,” And it smarts because it’s true, “I’m only givin’ you what you wanted.” 
He leans forward, tongue licking a stripe through your pussy, all the way up to your clit where he sucks the little bud into his mouth, rolls it between his lips and then lets it pop from his mouth like an ice-pop. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue a few times and you suck in a breath, your fingernails digging painfully into the palm of your hands as you focus on trying to reach the cliff edge and fall over it this time. 
You’re holding your breath, hips working in time with the movements of his mouth, eyes screwed shut just trying to focus on how good it feels. You can hear the rustling of sheets, which means if you were to open your eyes and look down at him, you’d find him grinding himself into the bedsheets for his own relief. He pulls off you, and you’re about to curse him out when he speaks. 
“You wanna come, baby?” He asks, punctuating it with a flick of his tongue. 
“Oh please Joel,” You beg, and even to your ears it sounds wrecked and pathetic, “Please let me come.” 
Then, you’re shrieking because the palm that has dealt so much damage to your ass this evening, has now swatted your aching cunt, “No.” He says simply, pushing himself back up and onto his knees. 
He pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere behind him. You’re squirming as he shucks off his boxers, moving awkwardly to kick them off, before he’s mounting your body, those strong thighs straddling your chest as his throbbing cock rests just millimetres from your mouth. He reaches down, let’s his fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls your head forward roughly. Your mouth, like muscle-memory takes over, opens, and the head of his cock slips over your tongue. You can already taste the salty beads of pre-cum as he shuffles forward a little, easing his cock into your mouth until it’s hitting the back of your throat. 
He holds your head steady with the fingers tangled in your hair as he fucks your throat. The sound is obscene, practically pornographic, the wet sounds that come as the head of his cock meets the back of your throat on every thrust. He pulls out of your mouth every now and then, when he’s thrust too hard and makes you gag on him, but fucking hell it’s turning you on so much. You can feel yourself literally dripping onto the sheets, you don’t think anything has ever made you this wet before. 
He pulls his cock out of your mouth one last time, a string of saliva connecting him to your mouth until he pulls away enough for it break, laying wet across your chin and down your neck. Joel shuffles back down your body and you think finally, you’re going to get some relief. 
He hooks your knees over his arms, pushing them forward to your chest as his throbbing cock slips through your folds. He rocks his hips a few times, the bulbous head of him swiping over your clit, before he unexpectedly buries himself into your soaked cunt in one go. 
You actually sob at the feeling. You’ve been so empty all night, and now you’re so full of him, so crowded by his body, that you finally feel some kind of relief. He’s still for a moment – once it would have been to get you used to the heft of him inside you, but right now, you know it’s because he’s just as fucked as you are, and he wants to make sure you’ve truly learnt your lesson. 
Once he’s collected himself, he sets a bruising pace. Cock dragging out of your slick heat and slamming back into you. He revels in the way your tits bounce with every thrust, so much so that he leans forward and bites at the flesh, sucking bruises into your skin as he pounds himself right into the very depth of you. 
“Doin’ so good for me baby,” He groans out against your skin, sucking your nipple into his mouth, letting it go with a wet pop as he pushes himself back up for me, “Takin’ your punishment so well.” 
The angle he’s got you folded into means the head of his cock is brushing against the spongy spot inside you every time. Your pussy is clenched so tightly around him that it’s a miracle he’s held on for this long. He finally brings his thumb back to your clit and you’re begging this time that he’ll let you finish, because if he doesn’t you’re pretty sure you might actually die. 
“Joel,” You mewl, “I’m g-gonna – holy shit – m’gonna come.” 
“Go on baby,” He finally relents, you let out a sob of relief, “Come on my cock for me, like a good girl.” 
It’s so overwhelming when it finally happens. Your vision blurs and blood rushes to your ears, blocking out any sound that isn’t the beating of your pulse. Your pussy clenches impossibly tight around him as pleasure finally floods through every inch of your body. You feel yourself literally gush on his cock, soaking his skin, your skin, the bedsheets beneath you. You think you might even scream his name as your body convulses and shakes, arches up into him. 
You’re slightly aware of him pulling his cock from inside you, letting your knees drop. You can hear the slap of his fist on his skin as he fists his cock, and then he’s growling out your name, his cum spattering over your tummy, lying hot and thick on your sticky skin. It’s silent for a good few moments, the only thing you can focus on is the sound of you both sucking in breath to your lungs and the burn of the rope around your wrists. 
“Look at me.” Joel demands, and you do, your eyes meeting his, which are almost black with lust, his face flushed, sweat pooling at his hairline. 
He drags a finger through the pools of his cum, bringing his fingers to your mouth. He presses them into the flat of your tongue, letting you swallow, which continues until you’ve cleaned every inch of him from your skin. He then works quickly to untie the knots that have you bound to the bed, freeing your skin from the burning feeling that’s settled there. 
“Stay still,” It’s still demanding, but it’s softer now, as he gets off the bed, dropping the rope to the floor, “I’ll be right back.” 
He comes back moments later with a glass of water and a cool cloth. He rolls you over onto your tummy, pressing the cool material to your ass, trying to soothe the red welts of his handprints that have already started to form. He presses soothing, open-mouth kisses to the skin before he rolls you back over onto your back. 
He moves you because you’re pliant now, to rest against the pillows, handing you the water to drink as he runs the last of the cooling cloth over your lower tummy and through the folds of your spent cunt, then it’s discarded to the floor with everything else, and you’re being pulled to his chest, kiss pressed to your forehead. 
“Too much?” He asks quietly, checking to make sure he hasn’t crossed some line with you. 
“Just perfect.” You reply, eye-lids heavy with sleep. 
He brings one of your wrists to his mouth, letting his tongue lick soothing stripes along the reddened skin there, kissing every now and then, but keeping you pressed tightly to his chest, you own arm draped around his waist.
“You learn your lesson?” He asks then. 
“Probably not,” You hum against the sweaty skin of his chest, “I don’t think you’re ever going to fuck the attitude outta me, Miller.” 
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