#shitty goes crazy on hip thrusts

[somethingnurseywoulddo]

i’m weird in the way that i can tell you all of a fictional cast of character’s favorite workout exercises.

[charnelhouse]

Mx. Charnel (Mx. House?) I just read The Variable and I loved it. Are you going to bless us with some more explicit Din/Reader anal at some point? Because with your exceptional talent for writing everything that's filthy (and talent for writing Din's dirty talk) I think you would kill it at that.

A/N: Not being an absolute waste of a human writing anal on a Saturday night. I don’t know what this is. I feel like it’s a little OOC Din and I blacked out writing this, but here we are. God Speed. 

Din’s got you on his lap, his gloved fingers running up and down your thigh. He lets you set the pace, allowing you to roll your hips as he spears you on his cock. You’re drunk off your orgasm, knotting your hands into the bunched fabric around his throat. His visor is tilted up - pinning its gaze to your face as you ride him - as he drags you back and forth across his lap.

It’s a mix of sensations. The heated bare skin of his thick thighs under yours, the waistband of his pants that catches on your ass, the chilly, blunt pressure of his armor. You don’t even remember how they got here - screwing Din on the edge of his bed after a shitty night of tracking and coming up empty.

“Gorgeous girl,” he murmurs as he grips your hips harshly. His voice edged in authority - swept in the frigid paint of the modulator. “You like sitting on my cock like this? Riding me?”

Your head falls back as he thrusts up into you. He presses the tip of his leathered glove against the nub of your clit. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, shove yourself closer. His cuirass is stark - a blade-slick cold against your naked breasts. He reaches behind you, spreading your cheeks so that he can brush his fingers across the plug he’s buried inside you. You’re stuffed - his cock to the hilt while he gently tugs the plug out as it pulls against the rim of your hole before he’s rocking it back inside you. 

You’d had this stupid thing in all day - agreeing to wear it simply because Din said he wouldn’t be fucking anything unless you were properly...prepared. 

You press your brow against his helmet. “I’m ready,” you whisper. “I-I can take you.”

He cracks you hard across the ass, jolting you forward. “Can you?” he growls before dragging himself all the way out of you and then shoving his stupidly well-endowed cock back through the slick channel of your cunt. It hits something devastating - it feels like it pierces the cup of your womb. “You feel that? You think your virgin ass could take that? I think you need more time.”

You bite down on your lip. Your breath is caught up in your lungs, your core cramping and twisting as Din forces you towards another climax. Sweat is collecting at your hairline - dripping down your back. 

“I want it,” you whine.

He puts the palm of his hand above your mound, his thumb, curving over the smooth skin. “My cock goes this deep, little one. He shifts his hips, angling himself upward - stabbing and stabbing until you place your hand over his and feel the subtle nudge of it. Maker. It is so fucking filthy. “I don’t want it to hurt. I want to be able to just slide right in there.”

“Fine,” you huff. 

“C’mon, pretty,” he teases. “You know how bad I want to fuck your ass - take it for the first time.” His fingers slide down the cleft of it, massaging the thin ring of muscle around the plug. “I’m going to make it so fucking good for you.”

The stretch of the toy had been intense. Din was careful when it came to your body. You’d had lovers before who would have just stuffed themselves in there. Din wanted to loosen you up - mold and manipulate so that he could shape you to him. It drove you crazy - the thought of his fat length making room inside you - shifting things out of place to fit.

“How long?” you pant - your third orgasm rising hot - pulling at the strings of your pleasure until it begins to spark in your belly. “Fuck - Din. I’m-I’m ready. How much longer do I have to wait?

His helmet snaps to you, his grip suddenly bruising. “Maker - you’re so fucking impatient.” He lifts you up by the arm - pulling himself out of you with a wet sound that makes your face burn. “Fucking - pretty baby wants me to fuck her ass, huh?”

He forces you onto the bed, your back bouncing on the thin, uncomfortable mattress. He rucks his pants down, unbuckling his cuirass before tearing his helmet and gloves off. 

His face is a balm - his lovely, handsome face with the darkest expression you’ve ever seen on it. His pupils blown, his tongue dipping over his pink lower lip. You know you’re pushing your luck - pushing Din until he gives into your pleas. He is always so careful with you - always hesitant when you just want him to rail you into next week. 

I can take it, Djarin. You know I can. 

Yeah, but if I can avoid hurting you I will. Just humor me. 

He drops to the floor, gripping the underside of your knees to spread you open and just look at where he’s thoroughly fucked you. He nudges the plug in your ass with his fingertips before gripping it and beginning to move - gradually picking up the pace until he starts relentlessly working it deep inside you - making sure that the base of it stretches your rim, loosening it further as he maneuvers it in wide circles.

“Din,” you whimper. “Din - fuck.”

“This is what you wanted,” he grinds out. “You wanted me to fuck you. I have to make sure you’re ready.”

It’s a lot - the smooth silicon - the cool gel. Din pushes it and pushes it and in between every bit of dirty praise, he dips his face between your legs and licks at your cunt. 

“I think you’re almost there,” he remarks - perfectly casual despite the fact that he’s literally stretching your ass open inches from his face. 

“Din,” you whisper and he stops immediately - discerning your hesitation. 

His eyes are on you, his brow furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong? Should I stop?”

You shake your head. “Just - can you kiss me?”

His expression softens and he rises to climb up your body - bearing the great weight of himself over you. He lifts your chin and kisses you brazenly - tongue slick in your mouth as he continues to shift the plug inside you. “How do you want it?” he murmurs in between the slide of his lips. 

“I want to see your face during it.”

“I can do that,” The edge of a smile in his voice before he sits back, gently pulling the plug out of you. You feel empty - loose and achy and strange. You glance down and watch Din as he slicks up his cock, his other hand stroking your thigh as a constant reminder that he is right there.

He lifts one of your legs and hitches it over his shoulder, your knee hooked at his elbow until you are spread apart. He lines himself up, the bulbous head of his cock knocking against the rim of your ass.

“You sure?” he asks as he nuzzles his nose against your cheek, as he presses his mouth to your skin, trailing his lips over your brow and throat to make you remember that he’s got you - that no matter how rough or dirty this gets - he will always put you first. 

You cradle his face, blinking up at him, your heart in your lungs as he starts to press forward. “Yes,” you croak. “Fuck - please.”

The first inch startles you - the stretch of it lightly knocking you flat as he gradually begins to bury himself into the molten clutch of your tight ring. 

“Watch,” he urges and you follow his line of sight to where he is starting to disappear inside you. There is the glisten of lube, the black, curly hair at his groin, the velvet skin of his length being slowly swallowed by your ass. 

It’s...it’s so fucking much. It’s pressure and the climb of a tantalizing burn. You feel like he’s tearing you apart, just an overwhelming sensation of being drowned and eaten up and destroyed by him. He draws his hips back before pushing forward.

“Breathe,” he tells you. “Breathe, sweetheart. You need to relax - let me take care of you.”

You exhale sharply as you try to go boneless - try to let Din just take over and use you the way he’s promised. He keeps driving into you until his hips hit the back of your thighs, You’re on fucking fire - your clit is pulsing - demanding friction - his touch. As if he can read you, he angles the ridge of his pubic bone so that he can grind it against the peak of your sex - his cock still thick and swollen as he pumps it back and forth.

You are a mess - your pussy fluttering and leaking all over him as Din just stares - watching as you mold to him - as you slip into a haze of over-stimulation. 

“Does it feel good?” he husks before kissing you thoroughly - tongue messy in your mouth, practically sliding over your chin as he thrusts. “Do you want me to go faster?”

“Yes,” you moan as your ass clamps down around him. Every piece of you is vibrating - star-bright sweetness bursting behind your eyes as he starts to truly fuck you. 

The look on Din’s face nearly makes you cum right then. His head is thrown back, his eyes screwed shut as he groans deep - pitched low as it drives up from his chest. He’s never made a sound like that before. The muscles in his arms ripple as he holds you - his fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs. His stomach flexing - sweat making his dark hair stick to his forehead in cowlicks. 

“You gonna cum, baby?” he urges. “Fuck - I have never felt anything this tight before.” He grabs a handful of your ass cheek before he spanks it brutally enough that it juts you up the bed. 

You lose track of what he does to you. His thumb dancing over your clit as he stuffs three fingers in your cunt while he’s balls deep in your ass. His pace is unforgiving - his hips snapping against your pelvis as he clutches at your legs to leverage you at the edge of the mattress. He lays kisses across your jaw, laves his tongue over the peak of your breast.

He does not stop talking despite the fact that you feel as if your brain has been snatched from you completely. You are just a mess of sounds and broken, distorted begging. 

Sweet girl likes it when I take her ass like this.

You are so fucking beautiful - so fucking perfect.

Look at your little hole - Maker - I can’t believe you let me have it. Let me fuck you - stretch you out - I can’t - I can’t - 

Your climax catches you off guard - your lower muscles convulsing and spasming until you just release. He’s got his mouth slanted over yours when you do - the sharp lines of his body shaking flush against you as you cry out on his sweet tongue. His own tremulous hum of That’s it...that’s it - 

“Shit,” he grits out. “Shit - you’re - you’re choking my cock like that - “

And all of his words spill out in a rush - lose their formation as they roll together and you feel Din’s hands grip you unforgivably hard as you feel his cock spit inside you. It’s a warm bloom in your ass - wet and strange but not unpleasant. He jerks with each pulse of his cock.

When he withdraws himself, you wince. His spend slipping down the crack of your cheeks as he pets at you. You’re trying to catch your breath, trying to level yourself out. Your muscles are clenched taut - pulled and wrecked and you press the heels of your hands to your eyes as you try to just stop the hull from spinning in a rush of grey and red and black.

Din collapses next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist to yank you against him. He pushes his face into your cheek before he brushes a kiss to your temple. 

“Was that - was that good?”

You almost laugh. Din had just wrecked you - just fucked you silly - pulled orgasm after orgasm from you and still - he just has to ask. 

You shift in his arms so you can grip his jaw and drag him down to your mouth. “Yes,” you breathe - as your belly swells with heat - as the ache of what he has left behind builds again.

[kisakunt]

NAHOYA KAWATA. — pussy drunk

NSFW minors dni, toxic yk, just a thirst, pussy drunk but nahoya don’t like your ass for shit and you’re using your ‘assets’ to your advantage.

nahoya is sick of you, really. he’s sick of the way you expect him to care about your day to day, he’s sick of how you subconsciously grab for his hands after he’s fucked you to sleep, and he’s sick of the disgusting tears that prick at your eyes every time he leaves for too long. he thinks, genuinely, he’d like to get rid of you all together. he’s sure he hates you— that’s a strong word, he doesn’t care that much— every time he sees you, but after enough time passes, after a long enough break from your incessant bitching, he finds himself knocking on your door with a cheesy apology and proof of some physical fight from right before hand to evoke sympathy.

he’s sick of you, but there’s something about the way your pussy puckers around his length that is unmatched. it drives him crazy; he’s well aware he has all the control in your dynamic, all the power over your heart and mind, but he’s drunk off your cunt. he won’t tell you but he doesn’t really need to, it’s obvious in the way he’s unable to stop his thrusts once he starts up, or how attentive he is when you’ve got a vice grip around his cock.

and you’re not stupid. you know he doesn’t love you. you know what it means every time he calls you, you know what’s going to happen every night he promises to be there when you wake up and you know what he’s really thinking with every shitty excuse he gives you. but, there’s something undeniable between the two of you— hot and heavy and intoxicating.

so, you let him fuck you. you pick up whenever he calls you ten to three, you settle yourself whenever he knocks on your door at other unruly hours, you bitch and whine and complain and make him listen and when he starts to get annoyed to the point you watch him grit his teeth and lock his jaw, you finally touch him. and then, you watch— and you relish— in the change of pace. in the way it goes from you needing him to him needing you; you familiarize yourself with the sound of his balls slapping against your ass and the feeling of his hands gripping any part of you they can touch, you memorize the way his hips always stutter exactly twice right before he cums, and you obsess over the feeling you get when he’s damn near stupid on your heat because it feels a lot like love if you think about it.

[prettyboykatsuki]

me clinging to izuku’s shoulders and leaning onto katsuki’s chest. as both their cocks pulse and stretch inside of me, and they whisper words to me and frantic breaths to each other. but i can’t even hear it cause now wiggling down onto both of them. clenching down onto them by accident - but it feels so good.. just chasing my own orgasm. as katsuki calls me greedy.. and deku tells me to take what i want. fuck. fuck.

scared to get off anon to send this but this is just making my head fuzzy and silly parts wet so i wanted to share

cw ;; dp, fem!reader, bkdk poly, emotional threesomes cause i love those <33, 18+, dom!deku, switch!bkg 

hhh i have a whole bkdk threesome in my drafts that probably won’t ever see the light of day and i have an ask about this exact thing that i been meaning to answer forever but this sparked the whole thing again in my brain.... 

the walls are thin.. yknow? and when deku suggests the whole thing, bkgs eyes get all big and concerned. tells damn deku that it won’t fit, they’re gonna break you while deku gives you a little chuckle, cups your chin and brushes his thumb on your lower lip like “but that’s what you want, right?” and you’re not wrong. the thought has occurred to you before. you’re both surprised n not that it’s deku who calls you on your shit. 

bakugou goes first. he wants your pussy n deku lets him have it. cause he’s nice and bkgs been behaving and he likes seeing the way your eyes flutter when he pushes inside. like seeing the way bkg grunts and groans, holds your hips. deku leans over your shoulder, admiring the blonde with a look of what can only be considered mischief. 

“kacchan is pretty,” ― deku tells him while bakugou tells him to fuck off. deku puts up with his bratting cause he feels nice today, doting ― “so are you,”

deku preps u with his fingers to take him in your ass. he’s slow and caculating about it. he presses down on bakugo whenever he thrusts, gives you a little grin “i can feel kacchan inside,” and the two of you are just in shambles over how deku acts..  hhh the image is so clear in my brain.  

deku’s cock is fuckin’ fat. bigger than katsukis and he’s meaner about getting it all inside. he makes it fit eventually and holy shit - it’s like it’s poking your lungs. so big and stretching so wide. the feeling for you is unbelievable. all plugged up, you’re drooling spit all over bkgs shoulder. a desperate, whiny, fucked out mess. you feel like you’re close anytime one of them moves and the one moving is always bkg. always impatient. always grinding, getting whiny while he thrusts inside. 

 it makes deku moan. every time bakugou thrusts, deku thrusts to and it’s like their grinding their cocks against eachother inside of you. the whole thing fills you with this sweltering fucking heat, like you’re favorite sex-toy. the kind they like to use together and it’s making you crazy. the way they’re grunting and moaning like their not sure what to do is making you crazy. it’s a beautiful mess and you’re getting so broken down. you cum so hard you see white, your clit untouched and a swollen mess. it’s like making the impossible, possible. 

it’s taking a toll on you so eventually, you ask ― “does it feel good inside of me.” and deku is so more than quick on the uptake. he fucks you even harder than before and so does bakugou. like now that they’ve broken you, they can fuck you how they want. use you like how they need. they’re pro-heros after all, they’ve got a lot of stress to dole out. 

“you feel perfect,” ― is dekus praise, biting into your shoulder ― “so good. always so good,” 

while bakugou is “fuck, i can feel it when that shitty nerd moves,” while he fucks you a little less precise. “you feel so fucking good.. making me lose my mind,” 

the whole thign is just so... FUCK

[twerkinwithhazza]

Pumpkin Seeds

Author’s Note: UH OHHH BACK AGAIN. I’m back yall finally off hiatus all because my phone is broken LOL. Anywho tumblr is a totally different place and most of my mutuals are adulting now. I would love new tumblr friends and I’m gonna try to continue this writing stuff but I’m busy with adult things now lol and it really depends on if you guys like what you see. Please excuse my rustiness this my first imagine in years... literally. I’ll get better with time. This was also slightly edited but I know there bound to be some mistakes. Anyways watch the Golden music video for clear skin and I hope you guys enjoy!  I think it's so adorable that whoever requested this thought this request wouldn't speak to me lol ! It definitely did because this went from a blurb to a full blown imagine.

psst you can read my other work here!

Warnings: smut smut smut and more smut and possible shitty writing, dirty talk, light choking, and some cursing.

Glossary: (y/c/n)= your cousins name + (y/m/n)= your mothers name

Request: hi!!!! if you are wrtiting for Harry please can you do one where missus and Harry are at a family party and have a quickie in the bathroom? don’t worry if it’s not speaking to you lol xxx

Normally you and your husband loved spending time with your families. Harry was always playing a balancing act between filming music videos, doing interviews, writing sessions, and an occasional date night in the house that always involved a Postmates order from your favorite restaurants and the two of you binge-watching Netflix on shuffle. As much as the both of you enjoyed stuffing your face with poke bowls from Poke Papa and watching True Crime stories, it wasn’t exactly romantic or fulfilling for the both of you, just enough to hold you over until his schedule clears up. So when Harry finally got a weekend off, you guys were ecstatic! You spent the week cleaning the house and meal prepping so no Postmates would be needed and Harry used his free time in between interviews for shopping for special toys and pretty lingerie he wanted to see you model for him. Flirty text messages were sent back and forth during small work breaks about your plans for the weekend and now all the two of you had to do was make it Saturday.

You’re not gonna like this...

The 5 words that destroyed you and Harry’s weekend plans. Anne called while you were organizing your closet and announced that her and Gemma, along with your parents and favorite cousins were coming to town to spend time with the two of you. You tried to convince her that maybe a small dinner party at that new fancy restaurant downtown would be a perfect spot for a get together but she was adamant about coming over to cook the two of you a homecooked meal. Breaking the news to Harry was the worst part, he was clearly devastated (you swore you saw the man shed a few tears). Now here you were stuffing your mouth with Anne’s famous juicy cooked duck instead of your husband's juicy di...

“(Y/N) can you pass me the mashed potatoes”

Your dad’s strong yet muffled voice interrupted your train of thought and broke you out of your horny trance as he chowed down on his meal. Pushing the dish over in your dad's direction allowed you the chance to look around and take a glance at Harry who was making small talk with one of your favorite cousins. He was wearing a black button-down shirt, of course with a few buttons loose, and his cross necklace bounced on his chest as he laughed at your cousin's crazy work stories. You focused on his fingers, his infamous rings adorned his hands, you noted that they were slightly damp from eating and the condensation on his glass cup. As you were drinking in his appearance a small damp spot was forming in your panties but given that there were too many eyewitnesses including, yours and his parents so you chose to just clamp your thighs shut and stuff your mouth with more mashed potatoes. 

Harry deserved his credit as a husband. Despite his calm demeanor, he was very well aware of your little ordeal yet still managed to give interview advice to (y/c/n) and compliment your mom’s cocktail mix. He was quite amused by how increasingly frustrated you were becoming. He noted your concentrated face as you munched harshly on a string bean, hands clenching onto the fork for dear life. He decided to do a little temperature check to truly see how far gone you were.

“So what are we thinking for dessert pecan pie or crumble cake ?”, Harry questioned as he stuck his fork in his mouth, pulling it out again once all the gravy was licked clean. Your eyes finally met and you can tell that he was tossing the ball in your court, it was your job to show him how you wanted the game to be played.

“Mmm I don’t know I guess I’ll have some pecan pie but I really wish I had some pumpkin seeds”, you flatly said as you finished sipping your wine, maintaining full eye contact with him.

Pumpkin seeds. You and Harry were “outside of the box” thinkers, you had to be with his life as a celebrity not exactly pairing well with your shared sexual fantasies. You had code words to indicate to each other when you were craving the other one's touch, but you knew that using the same words around friends, family, and other public figures for too long would possibly cause some suspicion. So your code words changed with the seasons, literally. When the leaves started turning that classic golden yellow and auburn, your code words changed thus came the use of the word Pumpkin Seeds.

Gemma and your mom shared a glance, raising their eyebrows in collective confusion.

“Pumpkin seeds.. For dessert ?” Gemma finally burst out., both of your mothers soft laughter followed in the background.

“Heyyy” ,Harry pouted as he bopped Gemma on the nose with some gravy ,“ I have you know Pumpkin Seeds are one of our favorite midnight snacks”. 

“Gross“, Gemma stuck out her tongue and wiped her nose. You couldn't tell whether she was referring to the gravy on her nose, your choice of midnight snacks, Harry’s smug statement followed by a wink at you, or a combination of all three.

“Well we can be concerned with dessert once we break out the baby pictures, I’ve been dying to see the infamous skinny dipping picture (y/m/n) has been telling me about”. Anne clapped her hands together and hopped out of her seat heading to the kitchen. Your mother followed behind but not before instructing you to head up to the attic to retrieve the pictures. You glanced at Harry but he seemed occupied cleaning up the dinner plates with your dad. You let out a frustrated huff and made your way up to the attic to grab the photo albums. 

As you shuffled through old boxes holding Harry’s old tour outfits and your little knickknacks from your travels, you heard the attic door open.

“Pumpkin seeds huh?”, Harry lightly chuckled letting the attic door close and leaning against the door frame. 

You refused to make eye contact with him, continuing to shuffle through the bins locating a few photo albums as you went , “It was only a matter of time Harry and you know it. Our weekend got stolen and we haven’t... ya know in like two weeks. So, yes Harry I want some damn pumpkin seeds.”

You let out a huff. You didn’t mean to come off so sassy and aggressive but you were frustrated… sexually. Your cousin was getting more Harry time in the 3 hour family dinner than you had gotten in the past two weeks. You stacked the photo albums gently on top of each other and cradled them in your arms, finally turning to face your husband but you didn't have to look very far. Harry had closed that gap between the two of you, gripping your face and making you look up at him causing you to drop the albums in shock. 

“Well let’s get you your pumpkin seeds then”

That’s all it took and sparks turned into a flame, you and Harry’s bodies connected and a feverish makeout session broke out. You both were so hungry for each other after weeks of neglects and it just felt so damn good to finally connect. Harry’s wet kisses were making their way down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. You knew he was getting into it and normally you would be completely here for it if your kitchen wasn’t flooded with family members waiting to laugh at your baby pictures.

“Baby.. we… fuckkkkk”, You moaned out as Harry popped one of your nipples out of his mouth before moving to nip on the next one. “Baby we can’t your mom is downstairs… we have to go”, you finally let out and glanced down at your husband as pinched your nipples between his finger tips. “When has that ever stopped us”, he slyly laughs. In one swift motion, he turned you around pulling your back into his chest pulling down your skirt. You couldn’t even get words of protest out, Harry had his hands wrapped around your neck and was already freeing himself from his pants and boxers. He pulled your panties to the side and let out a hiss as he watched a string of your arousal stretch from your dripping flower to his fingers.

“Baby please just do something”, you huffed out a soft moan as you waited in anticipation. The grip around your throat tightened as he entered you, both of you letting out a sigh of relief. Harry completely bottomed out inside of you, touching that special spot that only he could. Your walls clenched around him, holding him in snug almost as if your pussy was begging him not to leave. Normally the two you were very vocal during sex from dirty talk to his loud moans and your even louder cries of pleasure. However you both knew that wasn’t possible right now and kept your moans down as much as you could. Harry was not making it easy though and the noise coming from the two of your bodies colliding were basty in the best ways possible. With every thrust of Harry’s hip you could hear your wetness coating Harry dick and as Harry picked up the speed his balls roughly tapped on your clit, only adding to your pleasure. You could barely form thoughts let alone sentence, Harry was literally fucking you silly and using your G-Spot as punching bag for his dick, The sounds and the pleasure were clearly getting to Harry as well, the grip he had on your hips grew tighter and his eyes were squeezed shut. 

“Bloody fucking hell you’re so tight around me, can’t even take it”, he groans and throws his head back as he roughly draws your hips into his. It didn’t even feel like it was possible but Harry picked up the speed of his thrust continuing the assault on your poor needy pussy even further. The pleasure was all too much and that oh so familiar feeling hit the pit of your stomach and you were starting to lose your composure. Your moans were getting increasingly louder and your grip on Harry was growing tighter. Harry knew his wife and he knew your dam was getting closer and closer to breaking and he was determined to get you there. He placed a hand over your mouth and moved his other hands down to your clit rubbing it in slow circles. “ Look at you” he cooed cockily, “Taking me so fucking well like a good girl should. Barely let out a scream ‘cus you don’t want your parents to hear how much of a cock whore you are”. He knew you wouldn’t last long with the way he was talking to you and he was absolutely correct because his words were driving you insane. As the pressure was continued building up in your stomach, you felt the telling twitch in Harry’s dick that let you know he was approaching his end too.

“Gonna give me what I want uh? Gonna cum all over my cock and let me cum in that tight little pussy of yours. You gotta hold it in.. don’t want to leave any drops for our guest to find huh? Gonna be a good girl and hold all my cum in you?”, Harry grunted into your ear as you whimpered against his hands. You were seeing stars and feeling butterflies in the pit of your stomach and you knew it was only a matter of time before you both came undone.” Oh baby”, you whined and your head fell down as the pressure from your stomach finally was released as your orgasm spilled out all over Harry’s dick and thighs. The gushing feeling from your orgasm and your weak whimpers and cries drove Harry overboard, burying his face in your neck and his roughly groaning as he released inside of you. The two of you stayed connected for a bit, thighs stuck together thanks to your shared orgasm with Harry’s arm wrapped around your waist supporting both of your weights up as you composed yourselves. When he finally pulled out of you, you kept every drop he gave you tucked inside your tight walls just as promised. 

“So those Pumpkin Seeds huh”

[kechiwrites]

tension headache

Ground Zero x Publicist!Reader

wc: 2.2k

“Being Ground Zero’s publicist comes with its own set of challenges, luckily there are quite a few benefits to sweeten the deal.” warnings: anal play, dirty talk, light degradation, light spanking, d/s undertones (or overtones w/e), bakugo being the king of bullies

author’s note: i’ve been writing this since august and it’s finally done. special thanks to @lady-bakuhoe​, @some-kindofgnome​, and @nightly-tales​ for betaing! 

Your head is throbbing. The sort of building tension headache you became most familiar with in high school; the kind that starts in the morning and gets stronger with every little irritant. You’re sure it's a tension headache from having your shoulders hunched up to your ears most of the day, a seemingly ever-constant by-product of trying to keep Pro Hero Ground Zero from biting a journalism student's head off. The obscenely large TV hanging above the receptionist’s desk plays Ground Zero’s greatest hits on mute as your heels click-clack towards the steel and glass elevators. 

It’s almost the end of his patrol and you know he’ll be up soon, sidekicks and assistants (two this month, because the first had the good sense to resign soon, lucky bastard) in tow. Four consecutive texts rattle your phone in your pocket to confirm this. Each one an iteration of “on our way up!.” Waving at his secretary, you let yourself into his office setting your purse on the floor. Further behind you can already hear the clamor of voices and activity that announces Ground Zero’s arrival, people no doubt scurrying out of his warpath lest they incur his wrath. He pushes open the heavy door and says nothing to acknowledge your presence. 

Your forehead throbs with irritation at the snub. You know it’s only a matter of time before either of you begin to push the other’s buttons but your employer seems to have a secondary quirk he uses only for you.

You like to call it Extreme Irritation.

“Would it kill you to be nicer to the press?” You give first, sitting on the overstuffed leather couch pushed against the easternmost wall underneath a frankly, unnecessarily large, framed photo of U-A’s graduating class. “Why do you insist on making my job so hard?”

“Can’t pay you for fucking nothing,” he scoffs, leaning against the desk in the center of his office. Carefully he divests himself of his gauntlets, handing one to his senior assistant, and placing its twin onto the desk next to his big gaudy nameplate, muttering; “Take this to Yumikawa, I think I broke the fucking thing.” When he’s halfway past the threshold, Ground Zero adds, “And tell her to do better with her shitty paint jobs!” His gaze snaps to the newest recruit, a tiny shivering thing who looks like a stiff wind could blow her over, “What the fuck are you standing there for? Go with him! Do I have to fucking tell you everything?”

She practically leaves a dust cloud in her wake. You roll your eyes and begin reading through news updates on your tablet, nails clicking lightly against the screen. Tweet after tweet and article after article summarize Ground Zero’s latest exploit, every title and byline more sensational than the last.

“Ground Zero Overshadows Daring Rescue with Another Tirade!”

“Is Ground Zero the Meanest Pro-Hero Ever?!”

‘imagine ground zero calling you stupid 🥴 #imahole’

You could almost laugh if it weren’t for the startlingly large amount of retweets on that last one. Finally, the pro hero deigns to address you; “I did as you asked, I smiled, I laughed, I didn't blow anyone up.” He actually sounds proud. You blubber in shock. “You called the reporter a fuck wit! They can't even air that!” For good measure you hold up the tablet to replay a heavily edited fancam of Ground Zero sneering at some poor junior reporter. “Isn't that what you wanted? Less of my insults on TV?” He is so smug, it drives you crazy. “Not like that!” You toss the tablet onto the couch beside you and stand, stomping towards Bakugo, who’s leaning against his desk, clenching his jaw, arms crossed, as if he didn’t spend the entire morning making you wish you’d never laid eyes on him. The two of you are growing more and more irritated with each other and it’s evident in the rapidly rising volume of your conversation.

"I'm serious, if you want to be ‘Number One’,” you stress through your teeth, “people have to like you, at least a little bit. That. Includes. The. Press.” Every word is punctuated with a strong poke to his sternum, and you try to ignore the pain of jabbing your finger into his brick wall of a chest. It feels as though the pristine white collar of your button-up shirt is digging into your throat while you try to restrain yourself from biting his stupid, perfect nose off.

Now it’s Bakugo’s turn to roll his eyes, “People like me.” He looks to his sidekicks for confirmation and you pointedly ignore them bobbing their heads in unison.

“Who?! Who are these people that like you?”

Bakugo gestures wildy at his sidekicks, “They like me!”

“They’re afraid of you! They respect you but they don’t like you!” You shake your head in disbelief.

“You like me!” He barks at you.

You almost choke on your surprised laughter. He really was absolutely ridiculous.

“I have to like you, you pay me!”  

“That’s right. I sign your cheques, you deal with all the media bullshit and make me look good.”

“You make it impossible for me!” If it weren’t for the intense tunnel vision your arguing was giving you, you would have seen Ground Zero’s sidekicks inching slowly towards the door.

“Well maybe you’re just shit at your job!” He turns away from you to push papers to the side of his desk, the gesture a clear dismissal that only serves to rile you further.

“Oh fucking bite me, Katsuki!” As soon as it’s out you slap your hands over your mouth, eyes wide as dinner plates.

You were exhausted and tense and so mad but it’s not what you agreed on, never at work and never in front of subordinates. In an instant it’s like all the air’s been sucked out of the room. Bakugo’s expression is furious when he whirls on you. You chance a look over at his assistants and all colour has left their faces, ‘Impressive,’ you think idly, ‘Considering Haruto is literally purple.’ 

“Out. Now.” He growls, and his teeth are clenched together so hard you think they might shatter, his throat is rapidly turning red and his hands are clenching and unclenching around nothing. The sidekicks hesitate and you’re a little grateful for their loyalty. 

“Fucking out. NOW!” He yells, and they nearly fall over each other trying to get out the door. 

“And there goes the loyalty,” you murmur while you watch their hasty retreat. “I’m sorry,” you say, turning to face him head-on, apology punctuated with the slamming shut of his office door. You focus on the wall of windows behind him, the city skyline slowly lighting up in the nighttime, preparing for an infamous Ground Zero meltdown. “That was inappropriate, especially in front of subordinates.” Idly, you wonder what the theme this time will be; Disrespect? Insubordination? Or just a good old-fashioned dress down? He’d become quite wordy over the years, you were almost beginning to enjoy them.

While you muse Bakugou inches closer to you, cheeks a mottled red. His shoulders rise and fall repeatedly, like he’s bringing himself down from the peak of his anger. For a moment you think he’ll just outright scream in your face, but when he pulls you, first towards him and then past him until your stomach presses against his desk, you realize quickly what he’s planning. 

His forearm presses against your back until you’re bent over his desk, your hands palm down between the wood and your chest to prevent your face meeting the cool oak. It’s bordering on humiliating how easy he can manipulate you. But they don’t teach hand to hand combat in the business sector, and although you’d toyed with the idea - being in a high-risk industry and all - you never put stock in seriously learning. 

The blond’s hand snakes over your shoulder, slightly damp palm advancing until it’s pressed against the smooth flesh of your throat. Katsuki pulls you towards him this way, and for a short moment breathing is a laboured task. The other hand makes quick work of divesting you of your skirt and underwear, coming down in an instant to make contact with your bare ass. He rubs at it covetously, a shallow attempt at soothing your stinging skin. 

There’s no formality when he thrusts into you, only a few seconds between feeling  the head of his cock parting your embarrassingly slick folds and him being fully seated within you. You grit your teeth against a whine, fingers scrambling for purchase when he withdraws and fucks into you again, and then again, pace slowly gaining momentum until you can swear the heavy oak desk (and seriously that thing weighs a fucking ton) is shifting with the force.  Your stomach presses painfully into the gilded metal decorating its edge but it’s good. Katsuki is so fucking good at taking you apart with every inch he drives into you. Above you he mutters lowly about how fucking wet you are, how eager you must’ve been all day, waiting for him to fill you. It goes on like this for a while, you bouncing between his hips and the desk, him whispering filthy, untrue shit in your ears that makes your nipples hard and your breathing shallow. 

He places his free hand on your back, first up under your shirt, then slowly slides it down, until it’s resting on the roundness of your ass again. You don’t know what he’s planned till his thumb’s parted you, sliding softly over the clenched furl of muscle above your stretched open cunt. 

“Bakugou, no!” you whisper hoarsely, your voice just edging on hysterical as you struggle against his hold. 

“Excuse me?” He hisses between his teeth, thrusts not slowing for a second. The hand around your throat tightens and when he pulls you closer so his sneering mouth is brushing the shell of your ear, you unwillingly tighten around his dick in response. 

“(Y/N),” his voice is almost pleasant, and had you not been split open on his cock in his office, you’d ask him who taught him an ‘interview voice’. 

“Can you tell me who's name is on the building?” While he teases you, you can feel yourself getting wetter around him, thighs tensing and relaxing with the sensation of being spread open beneath him.

“Yours.” You wish you could fall through the fucking floor.

“I’m sorry?” His thumb presses a little more insistently against your pucker. The pressure is foreign, but not at all bad. Dear God, you’re really about to let him do this to you.

“Yours, sir.” You pant, the burning sensation in your cheeks and neck a mix of exertion and shame.

“Fucking say it,” Katsuki tightens his hold on your throat and your whimpers are barely audible over the sound of his hips brutally meeting your ass.

“G-Ground Zero.” you choke out through your clenched teeth. 

“Oh good, so you can read!” Katsuki releases you from his hold and you fall forward. With every thrust, your feet lift off the floor, and you lurch forward like a ragdoll. Katsuki pushes his thumb further inside you, belly-laughing when you cry out in pleasure.

“Where’d all that resistance go, sweetheart?” His digit fucks in and out of you in tandem with his cock, keeping you full constantly. “You know what? Next time, I’m gonna take my time stretching you, keep you wide open, maybe you can wear a plug for me, huh? And then after you’ve been soft and needy all day, I’ll slide right into you, fuck you till you gape for me.” 

You’re incapable of firing back, mouth occupied with moaning incoherently while you drool against the desk. Katsuki chokes off his own moan, using his unoccupied hand to hike up your leg so he can have easier access to your clit. The calloused pad of his fingertips press hard against you. He goes so slow, pushing and nudging at you until your entire body feels feverish and your climax takes you by surprise, forcing a yelp from your lips when your legs begin to shake. 

“That’s it. Come for me. Come on my dick.” Once he’s sure you're done, he pulls his finger from your ass and releases your leg, blanketing your back with his chest. His hips are quick to lose their rhythm as he fills you, ropes of his spend coating your insides. Katsuki shudders against you, hands running a course along your hips. He pulls away, the evidence of your time together sliding down the inside of your thigh without Katsuki’s cock to hold it in.

“I’m going back to working for Hawks.” Your voice is hoarse when you can finally speak again and levering your chest up off the desk onto shaky knees only serves to make your head spin more. You glare at your boss your boyfriend as he dresses.

Katsuki’s grin is derisive while he tucks his softening dick away, “Like fuck, you love working for me way too much to work for that fuckin’ pretty boy.” He leans down in front of you and slides your underwear up from your ankles back into place, followed by your skirt before pressing soft lips to your forehead, smoothing his hands over your cheeks. 

At least your headache is gone.

taglist: @enjifuckersupreme @pleasantanathema

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Part 12

cruel summer masterlist

AN: Writing has been slower this week with what’s been going on in the news. Hope the wait was worth it? 

Aelin wakes up cold and alone in her bed, and it’s a bizarre feeling. It feels like forever since she hasn’t greeted the day without Rowan beside her. It seems in his sleep, he can’t stay away from her, and each morning she’s woken with his arm draped over her chest and his nose tucked into her shoulder. She frowns, looking at the empty spot next to her and picks up her phone to see if he's texted. He hasn’t.

She does have about a dozen texts from Dorian apologizing for bailing on her last night. He reminds her that he wants to get laid this summer, too, and lets her know it was all worth it because he went home with some hot EMT named Sorcha. Aelin texts him a thumbs up and then switches back to Rowan’s message thread.

She rereads his last text and can’t help but wonder what his plans are tonight. She contemplates asking him, but ultimately concludes that it’s none of her business. He’d tell her if he wanted to. Instead, she texts him, asking when his next day off is so they can plan going to the park, which she thinks is innocent enough.

He doesn’t reply, but that’s not unusual for the hour. If there’s one thing Aelin has learned from sleeping over at Rowan’s it’s that he is not a morning person. In fact, he has a horrible habit of snoozing his alarm until the very last possible minute, when he knows he’ll arrive at the park exactly when it opens, instead of the ten minutes early he’s supposed to get there.

Aelin gets ready and lounges around her room until she hears the doorbell ring. She bounds down the stairs with a loud, “I’ve got it!” before swinging the door open. Elide smiles widely on the other side and throws herself at Aelin with a tight hug.

“Ugh, I missed you,” Elide says, pushing her giant sunglasses onto her head as she steps into the house.

“You two are adorable,” Evalin chuckles, giving Elide a hug of her own. “Missing each other, even though Aelin’s been spending nearly every night at your house this week.”

Elide raises an eyebrow and flashes her dark eyes at Aelin, who cuts her off with a blinding smile at her parents.

“You know us,” Aelin says, grabbing Elide’s hand in hers and pulling her towards the kitchen. “Adorable.” Aelin glances at Elide, silencing her swirling questions with a pleading glance. “Now come on, let’s go make margaritas.”

“Keep an ear out for the doorbell, please,” Rhoe calls out to his daughter. “I’m expecting an important package from the city, and you’ll have to sign for it.”

Aelin pauses. “Where are you two going?”

“Into town for errands, then a board meeting,” Evalin explains.

“Then to Aedion and Lysandra’s for dinner,” Rhoe continues. “You’re welcome to join, but we assumed you two would have plans tonight.”

“Right. We do.” Aelin sends her parents off with a happy smile and best wishes for her niece and nephew, and with that they’re gone.

Aelin walks into the kitchen, Elide trailing silently beside her. Aelin grabs the tequila and margarita mix and pours it into the blender with some ice cubes. The blender fills the silent room with its loud whir for a few moments, and then Aelin pours them two very large glasses. When she looks up, Elide’s head is in her hand as she leans over the counter with a wicked grin plastered across her face, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“You really think you’re going to get away without telling me who the guy is?” Elide cackles.

Aelin groans. “After my first marg. Please?”

“Nuh uh,” Elide says through her first sip. “You’ve been using me as an alibi! I think I deserve to know.”

Aelin begs her friend silently with imploring eyes, and Elide scoffs and takes another sip. “Fine,” she concedes. “Tell me later. I won’t forget.”

“I have no doubt.” Aelin salutes her tiny friend and grabs some tortilla chips and Emrys’s fresh guacamole from the fridge. At the sound of food, Fleetfoot wakes from her slumber and bounds out of her bed to circle Aelin’s heels. Aelin grabs her bed and takes it with them outside. Fleetfoot plops down and promptly falls asleep again.

The pair grab two lounge chairs and strip down to their bathing suits. Aelin’s wearing her skimpiest string bikini in an attempt to prevent crazy tan lines, but as she goes to tighten the strings on her bikini bottoms, she sees the bruises the same time Elide does.

Four fingertip-shaped blue-grey dots scatter across Aelin’s hip, with a larger one in the back. Aelin tries not to stay composed, but she can’t help but blush when she remembers the feel of Rowan gripping her hips from behind, his hands tightening around her with every pronounced thrust.

“So, you’re seeing someone… strong,” Elide chokes out through her poorly stifled laughter. “Oh come on, Ae, just tell me.”

Aelin stretches out on the lounge and takes a large sip of her margarita. “It’s Rowan,” she finally says.

Elide’s eyes look like they’re about to bug out of her head at her confession. “Rowan, Rowan? Like, my coworker Rowan? Rowan Whitethorn? That Rowan?”

Aelin’s brow furrows. “Why are you saying it like that?”

Elide shrugs. “I don’t know… he’s just… not your usual type? He’s so blonde! And shy.”

“He’s so hot is what he is,” Aelin says, wiggling her eyebrows, and Elide laughs outright. “And he is anything but shy in bed.”

Elide snorts. “I can see that.” She takes a long sip of her margarita, her eyes flicking down to Aelin’s bruised hip before staring back at her friend. “So come on, are you going to tell me about it, or do I have to beg for details?”

Aelin can’t help but gush. She’s been holding in all these details, because she knows she can’t tell them to Dorian. And now that Elide knows, the dam is ready to burst. Which is good, because Elide wants absolutely no detail spared. So, Aelin starts at the beginning.

She gives Elide a thorough description of their time together – the kissing booth, the kiss under the docks, how he gave her the most mind-blowing orgasm of her life by going down on her, how he makes sure she comes first (every. single. time!), how when Elide ran into them they were definitely buying condoms (which Elide can’t help but crack up at), how Aelin always thought she liked being on top best because she could control things, but there’s this thing when’s on top of her and hitches her leg over his, that he can reach a spot she didn’t even think truly existed.

“I swear, I think I blacked out the first time,” Aelin says, refilling their margarita glasses. “Or saw God.”

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Elide cackles.

“Is he quiet?” Aelin asks, and Elide nods emphatically.

“Oh my god, yes. He didn’t even make eye contact with me the first week,” Elide says. “Lorcan got some perverse pleasure out of forcing him into conversations. He was so petrified of him.”

Aelin smirks. “Lorcan, huh?” Elide takes a large sip of her drink, but her eyes glaze over with wistfulness. “How’s that going? And don’t deny it. You’ve both been pining for each other for years.”

“We have not!” Elide insists. “Lorcan doesn’t pine. He broods.” Elide giggles. “I might be having too much fun torturing him this summer.”

Aelin barks out a laugh. “Oh my god, tell me everything.”

“It was all actually Manon’s idea,” Elide confesses. “To make him so jealous that he’d break down and ask me out.”

“Manon, as in, Rowan’s Manon?” At the mention of him, Aelin can’t help but check her phone. Still no reply from Rowan. Aelin’s lips tug downward, but she forces them into an eager grin as Elide explains how she’s made Lorcan’s summer a living hell.

“So how did this all start?” Aelin asks.

“Well, I told Manon that I liked someone, had for years, and I thought they liked me, but they’d never asked me out, so I didn’t know for sure,” Elide explains. Aelin nods, listening to her friend babble about how Manon offered herself up as a constant companion – hanging out and enjoying themselves in all the places Lorcan usually frequents, the shitty dive bar he loves so much, the steakhouse on Main Street, etc. etc. Completely ignoring Lorcan’s presence and just having the best time the two of them.

“And how does Manon feel about Lorcan?” Aelin asks. She can’t imagine the two of them getting along, for some reason.

“Oh, they’ve never interacted,” Elide confesses. “In fact, I didn’t even tell her it was Lorcan I was interested in until this week. But we’re supposed to go to his bowling league tonight. You should come if you and Rowan don’t already have plans?”

Aelin loves bowling. For some reason, her hand/eye coordination only applies to bowling and mini golf, and she hasn’t been in forever. She’s thrilled to tell Elide she’s free tonight.

“We should take a picture,” Elide suggests, apropos of nothing. “We look fucking hot, and the internet deserves to know.”

“I didn’t know Lorcan’s nickname was the internet,” Aelin giggles, and Elide rolls her eyes and takes out her phone to snap some pictures.

Aelin and Elide spend the next hour finishing their pitcher of margaritas and taking selfies, trying to get the best angles of their cleavage and the rest of their scantily clad bodies for Instagram. Aelin finally decides to post one of Elide sharing her lounge with her, squished together, and Elide’s lips pressed against her cheek in a firm kiss while Aelin scrunches her nose and grins. She captions it, Wish you were here and then at the last second adds a question mark before posting it. The comments start coming in – each one a resounding YES. But, one name is notably absent from them.

Elide posts one of them cheersing their drinks with the caption: FRI-YAY. Aelin likes it immediately, and smiles when she sees that Lorcan likes it at the same time. She can’t help the small pang of jealousy that stirs within her. But she pushes it down and suggests they get into the pool. They’ve been sitting in the sun for long enough.

Aelin jumps in like a pencil, her body slicing through the cool water. Her feet reach the bottom quickly, and she pushes up and breaks through the surface. She sees Fleetfoot, at the side of the pool, barking her little head off. Aelin swims to the side and comforts the puppy.

“I’m okay!” Aelin smiles at the golden ball of fur. “Look, I’m fine!”

Without hesitation, Fleetfoot flings herself off the ledge and into the pool and swims directly to Aelin. It’s pretty much the cutest thing she’s ever seen. She and Elide take turns making Fleetfoot swim to them until the small dog tires, and Aelin lifts her out of the pool. She jumps right back in.

“You’re going to drown!” Aelin scolds, pulling her out again. The dog cries, and Aelin throws a sympathetic look to Elide. “I think I need to get out.”

Elide laughs and holds up her hands. “I’m turning into a prune anyway.”

As they get out, Aelin finally hears the doorbell ring. She remembers her dad’s package and wraps her towel around her waist before heading to the foyer to sign. But it’s not a delivery on the other side of the door, but the low-key brunette she spent yesterday with.

“Sam!” she exclaims, her arms crossing over her bikini-clad chest. “What are you doing here?”

Sam’s eyes stare into hers hard, and she can tell that he’s trying extremely hard not to look down at her chest, which she appreciates. She feels way too exposed in front of this practical stranger.

“I texted you earlier,” he begins. “But I didn’t hear from you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been in the pool…” Aelin explains, though the explanation is clearly unnecessary. She’s dripping wet and wearing a bathing suit. The situation seems pretty clear.

“I can see that,” he says, and his eyes finally flit down her body and immediately force themselves back to her face. She watches as his cheeks darken with a deep red blush, his freckles blurring into the flushed color. Flustered, he shakes his head. “You were just so nice to me yesterday, and I’ve been sitting in that empty house all day while my Aunt and Uncle are out, and I figured I could see what you were up to. But I’m sorry, you’re clearly busy. I shouldn’t have come over.”

“Sam,” Aelin chuckles lightly. “It’s fine. I had fun yesterday, too. Come on in.”

He pauses, unsure if her offer is genuine, but Aelin waves him in and leads him out to the pool where Elide is back in her lounger, with Fleetfoot splayed out beside her, drying in the late afternoon sun. Aelin drags up another chair for Sam, who leans forward to introduce himself to Elide. He then sits on the lounger and crosses his legs – one plaid pant leg over the other.

As Elide peppers Sam with questions about where he’s from and what he’s doing here for the summer, Aelin takes a moment to make another pitcher of margaritas and bring a glass back for Sam, who accepts it with a grateful smile.

“So, I hear you two are going bowling tonight,” Sam says, and Aelin nods.

Elide looks to Aelin probingly, and Aelin realizes Sam has probably just told Elide about the passing of his father, and how he’s expected to take over his family business come August. That’s what he spent the majority of dinner talking about last night, and it’s clear it’s weighing on him immensely. She can’t imagine having to take over a giant company at his age while also mourning the death of a parent. She internally sighs, knowing what she has to do.

Aelin smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “You should come, Sam.”

“Really?” he asks, somewhat surprised.

“Yeah!” Elide says, excited. “There’s a whole league thing tonight, so I’m sure you’ll meet a ton of people.”

Sam smiles warmly. “Why would I want to meet more people, when I’m with the two prettiest girls in town?”

Aelin rolls her eyes, but Elide laughs. “Just wait until you see Manon!”

As Elide and Sam chat back and forth, Aelin picks up her phone again. Still no reply from Rowan. She frowns. He’s gone on his lunch break already and has certainly looked at his phone.

“Expecting to hear from someone?” Elide asks, her eyes wide with innocence.

“No,” Aelin replies too quickly. “Just seeing what Dorian’s up to tonight.” She pauses. “He’s busy.” Aelin is grateful when Elide doesn’t call her blatant lie out.

Instead, the three of them sit in the sun for another hour, chatting about their favorite summer activities, until Aelin declares she should shower and get ready. Sam agrees to do the same and meet them back at Aelin’s at 8pm.

Aelin’s shower is a far cry from the last shower she had. She presses her fingers in the bruised spots at her hips and imagines they’re Rowan’s strong hands instead of her dainty ones. Her fingers slip over her wet thighs and between her legs, and she brings herself to pleasure quickly. It’s not nearly as fulfilling as when Rowan does it, she can’t help but notice. But, she also hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him all day, and she knew she couldn’t leave the house all worked up.

By the time Aelin is ready to go, Rowan still hasn’t texted her back. She’s not ashamed to admit it’s driving her a little bit insane. What has been keeping him so busy that he can’t even text her back? She decides that it’s been long enough that she can text him again. She takes a quick selfie, showing off her subtle cleavage and sends it off with a text asking how she looks.

As she and Elide wait in the foyer for Sam, Aelin stops pretending she’s not waiting for a text reply and keeps her phone out in her hand. Elide can’t help but comment. “You like him.”

“Who?” Aelin asks, distracted.

“The Chaol 2.0 lookalike who was here all afternoon,” Elide jokes. “No, dummy. Rowan.

“Of course I like him.”

“No, but I mean you really like him.”

Aelin shrugs. She does like Rowan, and she definitely missed him today.

“He’s nice,” Aelin says carefully. “We’re friends.”

“Who fuck,” Elide adds. “Usually when I’m friends with the person I’m sleeping with, it’s called a relationship.”

“Or, friends with benefits.”

Elide raises an eyebrow at her friend. “So, what, it’s just some dirty secret affair?”

Aelin frowns. “Affair sounds so tawdry.”

Their banter is interrupted by Sam’s arrival. He looks preppy as ever, and Aelin finally understands Elide’s Chaol 2.0 comment. Their coloring is fairly similar, and all dressed up for a night out, they both have a similar air about them. This is exactly who Aelin’s parents would want her to date. But oddly enough, he does absolutely nothing for Aelin.

Rowan finally texts her back while they’re en route to the bowling alley.

You know you’re stunning. His text makes her grin wildly.

The drive to the bowling alley is short, and soon they’re all piling out of their Uber and into the small dingy alley, which has never been updated. Elide spots Manon right away, and leads them over to her lane, where a bunch of people are huddled at a table with beers and pizza.

Manon hugs Elide, but her eyes narrow when she sees Aelin.

“I brought friends,” Elide says, “I hope that’s okay.”

“I did, too,” Manon says with a frown, and Aelin’s heart soars when she follows Manon’s gaze and it lands on a head of silvery hair making its way toward their table. It’s a perfect coincidence that she accidentally ended up crashing Rowan’s plans. Fate.

She smiles, making eye contact with him. His pine green eyes light up with desire upon seeing her, but he looks away quickly, tension filling his posture as he gets closer.

He drops two beers onto the table in front of them, and Aelin quirks her head in confusion as a pretty blonde brushes against his hand to take it. The blonde smiles at him and bats her eyelashes, thanking him sweetly for the beer. Aelin’s stomach turns.

“This is my cousin, Asterin.” Manon introduces the girl to everyone. Aelin has the urge to throw her arms around Rowan and kiss him, but she can’t with everyone around. Instead, she takes a seat at the table next to him, and tries to greet him.

But Rowan isn’t paying attention to her. His scowling face looks over her shoulder at Sam, who’s taken the seat on the other side of her.

“Sam,” he says with a small nod of his head.

Unfazed, Sam greets everyone at the table with gusto, introducing himself as the new guy, completely unaware to the extreme tension simmering beneath the surface.

“So, are we going to bowl or what?” Elide asks. Rowan stands up from the table quickly and grabs a ball, not looking back at Aelin. Asterin cheers wildly for him from the table, her gold eyes glowing at the handsome man getting ready to play.

There’s only one thing Aelin can conclude. She’s inadvertently crashed Rowan’s date.

~*~*~*~*~

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@justgiu12​

[areiton]

‘tis the damn season - stony

Yes, definitely inspired by Taylor Swift’s evermore, this won’t be the last but here is my first. Enjoy! 

Read on AO3 

~*~ 

You get the phone call when you’re walking to class. Your fingers are cold and chapped and you think you might have left your gloves at Sam’s place. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Tony purrs and you stumble over a step. “I’ll be at my parents all month. If you wanna see me.” 

You swallow hard, and your whole body feels numb, and you think that’s not because of the cold.

“Yeah,” you hear yourself say. “I--yeah.” 

~*~ 

The first time you fuck Tony Stark, the leaves are falling and the air smells like bonfires and the first snow of the year. You’re sweaty from the championship game and he’s grinning at you when he goes to his knees behind the bleachers of a now deserted field and sucks you off like he’s done it a thousand times, his eyes bright shining in the dark and when you kiss him as you groan and sink into his tight warm body, he tastes like your cum and popcorn. 

~*~ 

Tony is waiting when you pull up, nose red and bundled in a heavy coat, and his eyes are laughing as he slides into the seat next to you. “Thought you wanted to trade this in, Steve,” he teases, and it doesn’t sting the way it does when it’s Sam, because Tony has never understood your life--you think maybe if he did, you could have more than stolen moments on deserted streets, hiding in plain sight before he vanishes back to his life in California, to the hungry cameras and the pretty faces that always want more. 

“It’s alright,” you murmur and his fingers, icy cold and so damn real it drives out the thought that this is just a daydream--your favorite daydream--twist with yours. “When do you have to be back?” 

He smiles. “Not til tomorrow night.” 

You lean over and kiss him, fleeting and chaste, a brush of scruff against cool chapped lips, and then pull back and hold his hand in yours as you drive home. 

~*~ 

He still fits. 

In your messy apartment, with Alpine perched on his knee, and a cracked mug in his hand, chattering about a new part he’s taken. 

In your messy sheets, sprawled naked and beautiful in the lowlight, eyes fixed on you as you strip and crawl over him, moaning at the feel of his skin. 

In your body, thrusting hard while you curse, fists caught in the sheets and his teeth dug into your skin, a biting kiss that’s driving you crazy. 

In your arms, after, when he curls sleepy and warm and sated, and there’s no need for words about a life you can’t share and the question you won’ let yourself ask. 

In your heart and you don’t let yourself think about that, not even here, not even in the quiet of your own mind. 

He still fits. 

~*~ 

The first time you realize you love Tony Stark, it’s in a springtime rain and he’s laughing, jumping in mud puddles in a tux so expensive you didn’t realize people actually made clothes that cost that much. His hair is dripping in his eyes and his mouth is red and wet and open in laughter, raw and unguarded, the kind of real that he never lets the hungry cameras see, the kind of real and unguarded you are getting more and more. 

He’s the brightest thing in a grey day, and your heart twists, squeezes, turns over and you realize abruptly that he’s got the whole damn thing in his hand, that your his, that you love him. 

He smiles, and holds out a hand and you kiss him in the pouring rain, mud on your fingers and his laughter on your lips. 

~*~ 

You wake up to this: 

Tony’s hair, fluffy and unruly, tickling your chin, his breath warm puffs against your skin, his leg tossed over yours. 

Tony’s hands gripping yours and winter weak sunlight casting him pale and golden in your dark sheets. 

Tony’s smile, sweet and sleepy, tilting up at you, a thousand times more beautiful than the smiles you see shining up from magazine covers and your shitty broken phone screen. 

You wake to Tony in your bed and not just your dreams, and you kiss him and steal a picture, because this is precious, this time you hoard and treasure, and he laughs into your mouth, sleepy and pliant and the warmest thing in the bitter cold. 

~*~ 

You roll out of bed and snag your boxers while Tony makes unhappy noises in your sheets, languorous and lazy stated. 

He looks like a satisfied kitten, half inclined to sleep, and you brush a kiss over his lips before you wander out to make coffee. 

There’s a note from Bucky, and you pour Alpine some kibble and text him your thanks, and then retreat back to your bedroom, goosebumps pebbling your skin. 

Tony is still in bed, but the sheets have been kicked aside, and his pale skin has a pretty flush to it, mouth hanging open as he pants and fucks himself on three fingers. 

You almost drop the coffee, and it’s forgotten when he says, “C’mere.” 

You grip his hips and fight to keep your eyes open, basking in the heat of him around you, and the sight of him riding you, the sweat beading his lip and the dazed pleasure in his pretty eyes and the way his kiss bitten lips mouth your name. 

When he comes, it’s screaming and you fall over the edge with him, spilling hot and wet in his body and in this little haven, it feels like the world and winter can never touch you. 

~*~ 

It’s a hot sweaty summer day, and Tony is naked next to you, when you realize you can never keep this. 

He’s sticky and still breathing heavy, and so fucking beautiful it makes your breath catch in your chest, like your asthma is acting up again, but it hasn’t in years--this is Tony, just him, impossible and brilliant and beautiful.

And already, looking away, gaze caught on the messages waiting for him, mind pulled by the life that’s waiting for him. 

You love him, and you know--you’ve always known--he is bigger than this little town, this tiny apartment that’s too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter, that’s he’s worth more than backseat fucks and blowjobs behind the bleachers. 

You’re sticky and breathless from your orgasm, and he’s curled in your bed and it’s so hot you can barely breath, and you love him, you love him. 

And you can’t keep him. 

~*~ 

“Let me draw you,” you say, later, after coffee and bacon, after a shower more dirty than not, when you’re too fucked out to fuck again, and he’s sprawled on your dirty rug, playing with Alpine, and the request spills out all unexpected. 

He flicks a smile at you, and reaches for your sketchbook, and you realize, abruptly, the flaw in this plan. 

Tony makes a noise, thoughtful and assessing and there’s something cool in his gaze when it flicks back to you, before he flips the pages. 

The Carter cousins. Rumlow. One that can’t be anything but Bucky’s broad shoulders. 

Even old man Fury is in there, and Tony makes a noise, something startled and amused. 

“You left,” you say, helpless. 

“I don’t care who you fuck,” Tony says, but the words ring cold and harsh in the room, the first note of dissonance, and you bite back anger, because he left you. 

“Are any of them better than me?” he asks, rolling to his side and staring up at you, the flirty smirk that you see on that fucking show that made him a household man, the one that peers up at you from glossy magazine covers. 

You shake your head, helpless. 

How could they be, when they aren’t him? 

~*~ 

He stays until the sky goes dark, until his phone rings, his mother’s voice cool and cultured and calling him away, and you watch him, as he dresses himself, as he puts on all the pieces of armor that he wears into the world that hides away the man you love. 

Because it’s how he does this--how he can give the hungry cameras and clamoring fans so much of himself. By giving them all something that’s smoke and mirrors and lies. 

You hate it, seeing him like this, distant and cool and untouchable, because this is the Tony you don’t know, that is everything you can’t have. 

When he’s like this, you can’t see a future, can’t see the what might have been that keeps you dreaming in the long seasons when he is gone. 

“Tony,” you whisper and he shivers, and comes into your arms, one last time, and he’s still beautiful, in his tux and his perfect hair and shark’s smile, but his hands are gentle on your skin, and his cock is hot and hard and he fucks you slow and sweet, syrupy kisses pressed to your lips and gasps thick in the air while you writhe on his dick and mewl for more and cling to the dream for just one second more. 

~*~ 

It’s snowing and he smells like the quick rough fuck in the back of your car, when you realize you can’t do this to yourself anymore. 

Tony is like a dream and a mirage and a hurricane--and you can’t keep him. Trying is only driving you mad, and twisting up all the good things in your life. Peggy still won’t speak to you. Bucky leaves anytime Tony comes to town and treats you like your fragile, a touch away from shattering when he inevitably leaves. 

You know he’s hurting you, that this is hurting you. But the years stretch in front of you without him, and his come-drunk smile, real and raw and unguarded flash in your mind, curl up at you from your messy sheets, and you don’t know how to say no when his voice rasps down the line and says, “I’m in town.” 

~*~ 

He leaves. 

You knew he would. Even if he’s still in town, he’s gone, slipped back into the world that he inhabits, lit up by the gaze of cameras and lights and demanding parents. 

He leaves. 

But when you’re walking, cold fingered and numb, and a car slows as it passes, you see his gaze, brown eyes dim and fixed on you, and you wonder how someone with the whole world at his feet could look so lonely and sad. 

~*~ 

You slip into the back of a waiting car, and Tony slides into your lap, his fingers cold and demanding on your skin and his kiss is hungry and desperate, begging for something he won’t put into words, not until he’s collapsed against your chest, come sliding from his body, your dick still hard in him. 

“I don’t--I’m so fucking tired,” he says, and you hold him close, his head against your shoulder. 

“Sleep, sweetheart,” you say, even though you both know he’s saying more. 

He hums, and you shift him to the spread of coats and lap blankets on the bench, curl him in your arms and warmth and let your eyes close as the snow falls beyond the windows. 

You’re dreaming, you think, when he whispers, “Ask me to stay.” 

~*~ 

It’s New Year’s and Bucky is staring at you, wide-eyed, while you watch an interview, watch Tony on your tiny cracked phone screen and he’s laughing and saying, “I don’t know. The city is great, and I love it. But there’s something to be said about finding out what’s at the end of the path not taken.” 

There is snow in the air and under your boots and he looks beautiful and he’s smiling into the camera and staring at it, staring at you, real and raw and unguarded, and saying, “I’d stay, if I had a reason to.” 

It’s New Year’s when you realize--you can keep him. 

~*~ 

There are people everywhere, the airport crowded and the air feels stale and thin and still, but you’re running, and it feels like it’s stinging your lungs too, and he’s there, with Rhodey at his side, and a leather bag over one shoulder, smiling as he signs something for a fan, and you--

“Tony!” 

His head snaps up and there’s sunshine bright hope there, and lonely winters and rainy kisses and lazy spring mornings in bed, a whole future of him, waiting hopeful. 

You don’t know how you never saw it, but you see it, now. You catch him in your arms, and he fits there, has always fit there, and his smile is small but growing, when you say, “Stay.” 

~*~ 

There is this, still-- 

Cold mornings and numb fingers on your way to class. 

Hungry cameras and demanding fans, and Tony’s face on glossy magazines. 

Coffee cold and forgotten while you fuck him in his messy sheets that slip like the softest silk against your skin. 

His eyes, bright and laughing, his smile, real and raw and unguarded, filling up pages in your sketchbook, and your mornings and your nights. 

There is still--

Quick messy blowjobs in his Mother’s guest bath, him biting cries into your suit while you finger him in the back of a limo, his body writhing on your cock in the mornings when you are warmed only by the heat of him. 

There is this--

Him, here, walking the path not taken, hand in hand with you. 

~*~ 

It’s Christmas Eve and cold and he’s been yours for a year now and he watches you open a ring on Christmas Eve, and you realize, then, that you get to keep him forever. 

[fckinsupreme]

Camp redwood opens again in 2020 and it just so happens that a certain counsellor catches Xavier's eye, so much so he might not want to let her go. The only thing that's sparked any sort of emotion other than longing for almost 40 years..

There she goes again. Walking along as if she didn’t know what was doing to him, her hips swaying, her eyes cast straight ahead instead of where he was standing. She had been on Xavier’s radar from the moment she arrived, the crew arriving several days early to help prepare for the grand reopening of Camp Redwood. There was a lot to clean up and a lot to do, and Xavier couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of deja-vu. But hopefully now, with Margaret’s ghost in check and Jingles & Ramirez no longer terrorizing anyone, it would be different than his own experience.

Y/N was the hottest of the counselors, without question. As was the case with his own group, most counselors were male, with Y/N being one of three girls. The other girls weren’t Xavier’s type, and he gave them as little thought as he would the ground beneath his feet. But Y/N…she was /the one/. They met the first night she arrived, after he caught her lurking around the woods in search of her hook-up—a burly counselor with a small dick and an even smaller, more fragile ego. Xavier made sure it didn’t happen, inviting her to the dock to watch the ducks in the moonlight. She hadn’t a clue who he was, had no idea that he was a victim in the 1984 massacre and was now a spirit tethered to the land for eternity. Maybe she would run away screaming if she knew, although she didn’t seem the type. Or maybe she would steer clear of him and never want to associate with him for the entirety of the summer.

But goddammit, he felt something for her. He had to have her; she was the /only/ thing that made him feel anything in the last thirty-six years. Ever since he died, all there had been was sadness, anger, bitterness, darkness. Seeing her, listening to that adorable laugh, witnessing the beautiful smile on her lips that he had caused, made him feel happy and like he was /alive/ again.

The way he saw it, she was the beauty and he was the beast. He wasn’t going to stay away, though. Quite the contrary, he was going to /get her/, no matter what it took. He knew summer would end too quickly and he would likely never see her again, and the thought filled him with such dread and rage that it almost consumed him. He couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t let her just get away from him. It was still so early, he could get to her and see if she would fall for him enough to stay here with him forever. But no, that was foolish; surely she had family, people who would miss her. Xavier didn’t have that luxury, since his friends were the only people he had and they had died here with him.

But Y/N would have him, if no one else.

He watches her as she reaches the dock, scanning the water for any signs of the other counselors. He observes her form as she moves, the swell of her ass, the way her legs are bared in her shorts, her (h/c) hair blowing in the breeze. Xavier decides to come out of hiding when she makes her way back, stepping out into the path. She jumps when she sees him, her hand landing on her chest as she grins at him.

“You scared me to death,” she says, breathing in relief. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d come check on you,” Xavier says, taking a step closer to her. “See how you’re adjusting. The kids are coming tomorrow, I hear.”

“Yeah,” she replies, chuckling a bit. “Yeah, tomorrow morning. I’ve been going crazy, trying to find the others to get the last-minute preparations underway. They’re too occupied with sex and with the ghost stories to get anything done.”

Xavier’s blood runs cold, a heavy weight like lead in his stomach. “Ghost stories?”

“About the massacres,” she says. “The one in ‘70 and the other in ‘84. Plus, the other stuff that happened in ‘89.”

“Right,” Xavier says, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, yeah. I…Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” she asks with a frown. “You don’t look so good.”

“I’m okay,” he assures, backing you up against a thick tree. “I’ve never been better.”

She meets his eyes, and Xavier swears he can feel his heart jumping in his chest. Funny, considering that he wasn’t even alive and hadn’t felt such a thing in nearly forty years. He can’t look away, slowly leaning forward with his eyes on her lips. She doesn’t pull away or push him off, instead moving forward as well to meet him halfway. When their lips touch, it only solidifies the belief that Xavier can’t ever let her go. There was no way he was letting it happen. Sparks seem to shoot through his whole body, and he feels absolutely invincible. He feels as though he could just walk right out of this camp, to the world beyond, with its various changes and shitty music. None of that mattered to him, anyway; the only thing that did was right here, her lips against his and her arms wound around his shoulders.

He deepens the kiss, and is delighted to see that she does the same. She isn’t resisting, isn’t making some kind of excuse to leave. She wanted this every bit as much as he did, and he decides to try something just to see. As the kiss grows more hungry and messy, Xavier’s hand creeps under her tanktop to cradle her breast. She doesn’t stop him, instead moaning against his mouth as she presses his hand more firmly against her skin.

“Shit,” she gasps, her head tipped against the tree as he rolls the nipple between his fingers. “Xavier…”

“No bra?” he asks with an amused grin. “You’re brave.”

“I was gonna—fucking /God/,” she moans, Xavier’s fingers rubbing the nipple in slow, featherlight circles.

“Gonna what?” he asks smugly. “I didn’t catch that last part.”

“Doesn’t matter now,” she says, yanking him down for a harder, more passionate kiss as both of his hands rest over her tits.

He doesn’t question her further. How could he now, when her tongue was swiping his in that needy way of hers? Her nipples were hard and erect under his palms, and he could feel his dick growing harder with every little pant she made, every little rut of her body, every swipe of her tongue. He tugs her shirt up, and she helps him take it off. It lands in a nearby bush, scaring away a bird that was perched there. It flies off, chirping angrily, taking refuge in a distant tree.

“We’re gonna get caught out here,” she pants when he pulls back to kiss over her soft neck. She smells like flowers and candy, her pulse beating against his lips as he kisses along her carotid. “I could lose my job.”

“We won’t get caught,” Xavier promises, his hand plunging inside of her shorts, two fingers gliding along the front of her panties as she groans hotly. “And if we do, would that be so bad? Your boss doesn’t seem like that much of a hard-ass. Not like m—“

He catches himself, but luckily, she didn’t seem to notice the near slip-up. He moves down to her breasts, pushing them together as he massages his tongue along her nipples. Her hand grips his hair in a tight hold, a beautiful moan spilling from her mouth as he pulls one nipple between his lips. He sucks slowly at first, before gradually going faster, his tongue swirling in rapid circles. She’s looking at him, lust in her eyes as she gets even wetter against his fingers.

“You’re soaked,” he remarks, dropping to his knees in front of her as he tugs her shorts down. “Can I taste you?”

“Please, fuck,” she begs, the sweetest sounds pouring from her lips as his tongue makes contact with her pussy. “/Xavier—/“

“Keep saying my name just fucking like that,” he says. “Fuck, you’re so hot when you say it. Do it again.”

“Xavier,” she whimpers, his fingers spreading her lips as he dives further into her cunt.

Her smell, her taste, makes him absolutely dizzy with emotion, so much that he doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. He didn’t feel this overwhelmed when he was still among the living, so how did this girl, this gorgeous stranger, have this kind of effect on him? He didn’t know, nor did he care to break down the mechanics right now. He was too focused on her, on her amazing, unique taste that coated his tongue with every swipe over her swollen labia. She was loving it, moaning her appreciation with every move he made. He sucks her clit between his lips, his tongue against it as he gives his head a few rapid shakes.

“God fucking dammit,” she whines, her gaze on him as she plays with her tits. “You’re too good at that.”

“Mmm, I know, babe,” he says, sucking on her left lip before flicking his tongue around her entrance.

He keeps it up for several more minutes, until she’s cumming with so much force that her legs nearly give out. He lies her down upon the earth and claims her, fucking her nice and slow when she expresses her desire for him. Her consent only drove him crazier with need, knowing that she truly did want him just as badly as he was wanted her. She’s a goddess, his own Aphrodite, her body so warm and so inviting for him. Her cunt is so tight, so wet, so /perfect/, her face twisted in pleasure as her hands travel all over his body. He wonders if his own is cold, stiff, something so disconcerting that she begins to question it. But if he is, she doesn’t seem to care or pay any mind; he isn’t sure if he’s relieved or disappointed by that.

He kisses her with fervor, conveying every ounce of passion for her into that one small action. He knows even a kiss would never be enough, not even intimacy on this level would be. He wants her like this for all time, wants her body and her soul and everything in between. How could he even turn his back on her? How could he let her get away?

He had to tell her the truth.

It was a realization so sudden and so horrid that he almost stops fucking her right there. Instead he increases the speed & force of his thrusts, throwing her legs over his waist so that he can pound directly into her G-spot. This brings a whole new slew of responses from her, her mouth open in a perfect O-shape, her nails tearing at his skin, drawing blood from shallow scratches that would soon heal before she ever noticed. The noises she made cause his cock to twitch, and he knows he’s dangerously close.

“Y/N,” he pants. “Cum with me, baby.”

He kisses over her neck and collarbones, her eyes squeezed shut as he leaves hickey after hickey on her skin. She cums at the same time he does, their names echoing through the woods, the sweet sounds they both made more melodic than birdsong. He can’t pull out yet, still connected to her, not wanting this moment to end. Not wanting her to leave him when the truth spilled from his kiss-swollen, saliva-coated lips.

“Y/N…” he gasps, his forehead pressed to hers as he tries not to cry. “There’s…There’s something I need to tell you.”

—

Baby tags: @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @angel-langdon @my-thoughts-and-prayers @thorohdamnson @lvngdvns @leatherduncan @xavierplym @mrsplympton @xavierplymptons @littlegirlsdontplaynice @xaviersghost @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern @wickedlangdon @melodylangdon

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Drunk on You

A/n: this just jumped in my head today and I don’t know why, but enjoy this collegeau!Taehyung friends to lovers imagine porn

Warnings: Alcohol tw, some mention of weed, unprotected sex (wrap.it.up.), voyeurism, male masturbation, a little possessiveness

Word Count: 2335

Taehyung isn't much of a drinker, and although he'd been invited to lots of parties with tons of beer and weed since he started college, more than a mild buzz has never appealed to him much.

Tonight, though, he feels like he needs to not be in his own head anymore.

You and Taehyung had become friends your junior year of high school, when he'd moved there mid semester and you were the only one to smile at him.

Taehyung had been in love with you since send year, and the realization had been overwhelming, but triggered by the most simple of things.

You two are out on a cafe patio, and there's a summer breeze that makes these tendrils escape from your braid and suddenly there's this wave of affection, this ache in him, and it makes his breath catch in his throat.

It took him a couple of weeks to process it, and by then you were leaving for college.

When he followed you a semester later to the same university, he told himself he'd tell you, right away.

But here he was, a few months before another graduation, and he hasn't been able to figure out how to tell you.

You throw a party after semifinals, and it's there that he's standing against the wall, uncharacteristically quiet, nursing a beer.

He'd showed up late, not wanting to appear too eager, and you were tipsy and talkative, throwing your arms around him when he walked in but bouncing off to mingle almost immediately.

He just watches you for a while, but when Park fucking Jimin slides up next to you and has his hands on your thighs when you're sitting up on the kitchen counter and you're smiling at him like he hung the moon, Taehyung looks away with a long exhale from his nostrils. 

When Yoongi offers him a shot and a joint, he's grateful.

Two hours later, everything's fuzzy around the edges and he's got a goofy smile on his face until he spills a whole beer down his shirt and you hop off the counter, laughing, to help him.

That's when everything goes sideways and he's too fucked up to keep his mouth shut when you wrestle him into your room and tug off his shirt, wiping him down with a cool cloth.

"Y/n, y/n." His words are coming slow and slurred and he can't get his hands to move like he wants them to, helplessly clutching at you.

"Tae Tae, what's gotten into you! You smell like cheap weed and a brewery." You're laughing, wiping a blissfully cool cloth on his face.

His vision is swimming, your face blurring in and out and he frowns, tries to focus.

"Y/n, you're so pretty. You're so perfect, yeah?"

You smile up at him, cocking your head. "You are a sweet drunk, Tae. Do you wanna lie down for a bit?"

He shakes his head but when he does, the room spins on its axis and he stumbles.

You reach out a hand to steady him and he tugs you down on the bed with him, nuzzling into your neck.

"You smell so good, Jagi. You always smell so nice." 

You're giggling, ticklish, and the way your face brightens when he pulls away to look at you makes his heart ache.

"I love you," he blurts. "I love you so much."

You stroke his cheek and he turns his face into your hand.

"Love you too, my sweet Taehyung. You should rest."

He pouts, already fighting his eyelids from drooping shut. "No. Wanna see you. Wanna be with you. I love love you, Y/n." He's frustrated that he can't make his words make sense, clutches at you to pull you closer, as if you might understand how his heart felt by osmosis.

"Just close your eyes, baby."

He doesn't want to, wants to be there with you, feel how soft you are in his arms but his eyelids are so heavy and the way everything is blurry is making his stomach feel sick. He's still mumbling as he drifts off, hears a knock on the door.

"I'll be out in a second, Jiminie!" You call, and Taehyung forces his eyes open, clutching you harder, panicked.

"Don't go. Don't like Jimin, yeah?"

You laugh a little, stroking his hair. "Everybody likes Jimin."

He frowns. "Don't want you to like Jimin. Like me instead."

His eyes are drifting shut again and he fights it, tightens his grip around you.

"Taehyung," you say softly, and his eyes snap open again. "I do like you. Now go to sleep, yeah?"

He nuzzles his face into your throat, inhaling you, feeling warm and calm and everything stops moving when his eyes close and sleep sneaks up on him.

***

He wakes up hours later, his eyelids sticking together, head aching and so thirsty he stumbles to the bathroom and drinks water from the tap, lapping at it like a dog.

When he straightens up everything tilts again and he's still drunk or high or both and he can't quite get his bearings until he's back under your sheets that smell like you, that smell like home.

He wonders where you're sleeping and his heart seizes up, imagining you curled up with Jimin on the couch and he lies still for a moment until his stomach stops churning.

Once he manages to sit up he can't believe he's hard under his jeans when he feels this shitty, that being surrounded by your scent still affects him this way.

There's still music booming faintly from outside but surely everyone's passed out by now and everything is still fuzzy enough that he doesn't really care anyway, his hand is already sliding across his bare chest to tease at one of his nipples and when he unzips his jeans and tugs down his boxers he lets out a quiet moan as his cock springs out hard against his belly.

He's teasing himself, just two fingers stroking up and down the head of his cock, eyes closed, remembering how soft your skin was beneath his hands, your bright smile, how you stroked his hair, when the door creaks open.

He hears a sharp intake of breath and his eyes spring open and he wonders for a moment if his fantasy has come to life, until you clear your throat.

His lips are dry and his tongue darts out to wet them and your eyes on him sends an ache through his belly and his hips twitch.

He knows, somewhere in the back of his mind that he should be ashamed, that he should hide, but your cheeks were flushed and you weren't looking away.

"I'm sorry," he manages, and it comes out a strangled moan, he can't stop pumping his fist, not when you're looking at him like that.

Your eyes are so wide, almost hungry, like you want to eat him up and fuck, he wants you to.

"You're so fucking beautiful," you say, voice almost hoarse, and the praise goes right to his cock, making him whimper and tighten his hold so that he doesn't cum all over his belly.

He doesn't look away, wants you to know how you affect him.

"You are. You are, Jagi."

When you lick your lips, not moving a muscle, he keeps talking, the remnants of his inebriation making his tongue loose, stroking his cock slow.

"I meant what I said earlier. I love you. I love you and I want you so much, have for years. You make me crazy, yeah? Wanted to snatch you off that counter when Jimin had his hands on you, wanted to kiss you so hard everyone would know you were mine."

You don't speak for a moment and he falters, wondering if you're upset, if you're offended and then you say quietly, "Why didn't you?"

His breath hitches in his throat and he leans up, puts a hand on your waist. "Please," is all he says and you tug off your top and a whining moan rips from his chest.

"God," he releases his cock, knows he'll be too close to not bust like a teenager looking at you. "Please let me touch you, Jagi."

You're not wearing a bra and your nipples have hardened in the cool air and, fuck, his hands are shaking.

You don't speak but your eyes are still on his when you wiggle out of your shorts and panties and he can't breathe when you're standing bare in front of him.

"I've been waiting so long, Taehyung. Why'd you make me wait so long?" You mumble, and his heart clenches in his chest.

"I don't know," he says hoarsely, "I don't know, I'm stupid, but let's not wait anymore, yeah? I'll die if you don't let me touch you, Jagi, fuck-"

You laugh and the sound makes the whole world brighter, and when you straddle his hips he thinks his heart might beat out of his chest.

"Touch me, Tae, fuck, you're so slow!" You huff, and he's surprised at the laugh that spills out of him.

He kisses you, first, soft, almost chaste, but you grab the back of his head, kiss him hard, slide your tongue into his mouth.

He's almost overwhelmed when you pull away, doesn't know where to touch first and finally he settles on one hand on your breast, palming over the peak of your nipple and the other sliding through the slit of your pussy and you're so slick it makes his hips buck.

"Fuck. Fuck." He can't make words so he puts his mouth on your throat, tasting your skin and when you moan out his name he wonders if he's dreaming all of this.

"Tae, please... I've been waiting four years for you to fuck me, I don't need foreplay." You laugh a little and he feels drunk all over again, unable to stop smiling.

He moans against your throat, almost mournful. "I don't have a condom."

"I'm on the pill and I haven't been with anyone in...in a while, just-" You rock your hips forward and any tenuous restraint he might have had goes out the window the second your heat slides up his cock.

He's lightheaded at the very thought of fucking you raw and when you huff out a breath and circle his cock with your small hand, guiding him into you, he stops thinking entirely.

"Oh God. Oh God, oh fuck, Y/n-" his voice is strangled and low and you keen into his ear and that's when he can't take it anymore, grabs on to your hips tight and thrusting up beneath you.

"Tae, Tae, Tae," you chant, and he'd imagined this so many times, dreamed about it but this was so much better, your body under his hands, tits bouncing in his face, the way you're clenching around his cock, it's all too much.

He can't keep his mouth shut, moaning and babbling. "Y/n, my love, God, you feel so fucking good, I've wanted this so long."

"You're so big, Tae, you fill me up so well," you moan, rolling your hips against him and he stills, watching you in awe, as you chase your orgasm, bouncing on his cock, grinding your pelvis against his. You shudder when you cum, trembling all over and he grits his teeth as you pulse around him, drawing in a long breath.

You lean against him, panting, and he pivots you onto your back, smiling when you whine as he pulls out of you.

When he slides right back in you wrap your legs around his waist, sighing as if content and Taehyung is just sure he'll wake up any moment now.

He kisses you over and over again as he moves inside you, and he doesn't want it to end, worries some spell will be broken when he spills inside you, but you're arching your back and crying out his name, nails digging into his shoulders and he can't hold back, fucking you hard and fast until he finds his release, moaning into your mouth.

"I'm sorry," he babbles, after, when your fingers are playing in the hair at the nape of his neck. "I'm sorry, I didn't want it to be like this."

You frown at him. "Don't say that, Tae. It was perfect. You'll hurt my feelings."

He feels tears prick at the backs of his eyes at the possibility of hurting you and kisses you over and over, big smacks on your lips, cheeks, eyelids.

You giggle. "You're still a little drunk, huh?"

He nods solemnly. "I am."

"I don't know what possessed you to suddenly become a party animal, but I have to say I'm grateful that it made you finally tell me how you felt."

"It was Park fucking Jimin," he growls against your throat, sucking a mark there. "With his tiny hands all over you."

You laugh again. "Don't be mean. Jimin's fun."

Taehyung lifts his head to frown at you. "What's that supposed to mean?"

You just smile at him. "You're pretty cute when you're jealous."

He huffs out a breath but he isn't dissuaded. "What's that mean?" He repeats, voice low.

"It means I hooked up with him once last year, and it was fun," you say, finally, and Taehyung's face falls.

"I shouldn't have asked," he mumbles miserably, hiding his face in your neck.

You stroke his hair and he whimpers a little, nuzzling you.

"Don't be upset, baby. If you'd told me sooner…"

"Gotta make up for lost time," he mumbles, kissing down your throat. "Gotta touch you in all the places Park fucking Jimin did."

You chuckle a little but it turns into a gasp as he parts your thighs, flattening his tongue against your clit.

"You don't have to worry, baby. I'm yours, now." You gasp out, and he moans happily against you, but he doesn't stop, wanting to show you all the things he's been dreaming about for years.

[xx-sikki-nixx-xx]

NSFW A-Z

Mick Mars

Requested by a very excited anon that I write for Mick

Aftercare(what they’re like after sex)

We all know Mick respects the females of our species and therefore he’s an absolute sweetheart when it comes to aftercare, he’s hesitant because he doesn’t wanna do something wrong so he kind of treats you like a china doll that’ll break if he isn’t careful but he loves you and cares for you because you are his everything.

Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and their partners)

Mick doesn’t have a favourite body part on himself because he still has issues with his body because of his illness but his favourite part of you is your eyes, he loves the way they light up when you are happy and how you get cute little crinkles around your eyes when you smile, he thinks they are beautiful crystal balls that can see his soul like no one else can.

 Cum (anything to do with cum…basically I’m a disgusting person)

Unlike the other Motley boys, Mick is a gentleman, so he’s really flexible with where he finishes it’s all up to you because your needs come first in his mind and he would hate to do something that you didn’t like so he’ll always ask where you want him to cum when he’s near his finish. 

Dirty secret  (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Mick is very private about his sex life so most of the things he’s into is a secret but the one that he never wants anyone to find out about (except for you) is his absolute love of intimacy, not just sexual stuff but more touching, cuddling, kissing kinda stuff, just being close to one another and loving each other.

Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) 

Mick is quite experienced, maybe not as much as the other Motley guys (because he’s not a slut) but even so, Mick DEFINITELY knows what he’s doing. He loves to make you feel good so pleasuring you is sort of a science for him and he likes to think he’s quite good at it. 

Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

As previously mentioned, Mick is a sucker for intimacy so he loves skin to skin contact which is why his favourite position is you sitting on his lap chest to chest because he can look into your beautiful eyes and hold you close to his chest.

 Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He’s neither really, he’s light hearted, loving… no, adoring. He just loves you so much and he is so happy that you love him too so it’s all very sweet and cute.

Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

He’s in the middle really, not too hairy but not bare, he doesn’t groom it or anything his body just produces that amount and he doesn’t really care that much because you love him and don’t care about his hair so that’s all that matters in his mind. 

Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Mick is a passionate bastard, he always tries to make everything perfect for you, after all you are his princess and he would do anything for his princess so he always makes sure he has fresh sheets and his bedroom smells good and clean. You always tell him he doesn’t have to do all that and that you love him as he is but he refuses to stop his ways. 

 Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Mick isn’t a horny slut like his band mates so the sex that you give him is quite enough to keep him going to he has no need to masturbate. 

Kink (One or more of their kinks)

SILK BLINDFOLDS…. I REPEAT, SILK BLINDFOLDS… that’s right Mick Mars has a kink for putting silk blindfolds over your eyes to heighten your senses and amplify the experience because Mick is a bit of a control freak and likes to take all of the control out of your hands and removing your sight is his favourite way to do it.

Location (Favourite places to do the do)

His bed and no not some shitty hotel bed while on tour his personal bed in his house because it’s a safe private place where he knows the paparazzi can’t get to you and interrupt your love making.

Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Mick would never admit it but he loves when you kiss his neck and play with his hair, he adores your gentle touch and goes crazy when you ever so softly place your lips to his neck and lightly lace your fingers through his hair and tug ever so slightly to tilt his neck so you can get better access.

 NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Mick would never do anything to hurt you, even if you consented to it he’d refuse because no way in hell would he ever knowingly hurt his princess, he loves you too much for that and he could never forgive himself even if you liked it he’d feel so guilty because in his mind it’s his job to protect you.

Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

THE MASTER OF PUSSY this man knows what the fuck is up when going down if you get what I mean. He’ll have you screaming every time, it may not look like it but he is like a black belt in pussy eating and he’s at his best when you ride his face. He is always hesitant when you blow him because as said before he doesn’t wanna hurt you so he has to restrain himself from thrusting his hips but he will always throw his head back and let out appreciative moans. 

Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and steady wins the race is basically Micks motto in life and in the bedroom is no different he likes to make you feel the best you’ve ever felt so he takes his time making sure your needs come before his. 

Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Quickies are an absolute no for Mick no matter how sexually frustrated he is he’ll wait until you two have the time to go all the way, the whole 9 yards, because he feels like anything less would be an insult to you.

Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Mick is sort of 50/50 when it comes to risk because if you want to try things he wants to try them because he wants to make you happy but as previously discussed he doesn’t wanna hurt you so he will try some things but not all things.

 Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

As I've already established Mick likes to take things slow so each round can last up to 2 hours and he can go for about 3-4 rounds so by the time you two are done you both pass out with exhaustion. 

 Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

I couldn’t imagine Mick owning toys, I’m sure he does a more than adequate job by himself. 

 Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Mick isn’t a tease on purpose because he likes to give you what you want but on occasion he’ll accidentally tease you, only small things like giving you a look or placing his hand a bit too far up your thigh or something innocent like that but he has no idea how crazy it drives you. 

Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s pretty quiet because he doesn’t want to embarrass himself but with enough encouragement he’ll let out some low moans and grunts as he nears his finish but afterwards he’ll always need you to reassure him that you love his moans and he has nothing to worry about. 

Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Mick loves praise, ok I said it… he loves to be praised because on occasion he gets unsure of himself and likes to be assured that he’s doing a good job and making you feel good, it also strokes his ego a little bit when you tell him how good he makes you feel… not that he’d ever tell you that.

X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Mick is a good 8 inches give or take, not as big as Tommy but defenately more than pleasing when it comes to sex, and as they say it’s not about the size of the wave it’s about the motion of the ocean and Mick defenately knows how to use it, trust me on that. 

Yearning (How high is their sex drive?

Moderate like out of ten 1 being none at all and 10 being constant he’s about a 7.5 like he loves to fuck but he doesn’t need it all of the time and he always puts your need first making sure you finish before he does so you are totally satisfied with the experience. 

ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As I said you and Mick are both totally exhausted after a night together but he’ll always make sure you’ve received all of the aftercare you need before he falls asleep even if he’s exhausted you are his first priority always.

[artificialqueens]

Penny for your thoughts (I know what you want) (branjie) - writworm42

A/N: For Athena, who asked for V comforting B, with mommy Brooke and pussy eating. Hope you like it <3

Thank you thank you thank you 3000 to Holtz for beta-ing and encouraging me/brainstorming with me when I was having trouble coming up w a concept and plot for this. You’re the best <3

Title from Special Affair by the Internet

Vanessa can tell that Brooke is in a bad mood even before she opens her mouth to wish her wife a good morning. Brooke is hunched over the table with a sour look on her face, chomping down her fruit loops like they owe her money and scrunching a balled up, almost-shredded napkin with the hand not holding her spoon. Hard rock emanates from the laptop in front of Brooke, her chews strangely synched with the beat of the music, and a bottle of maxidol stands open on the table next to her with the rest of her meds.

For whatever reason, the second day of Brooke’s period is always the worst, the one where her flow is heaviest and cramps are at their most painful. And, understandably, it always puts Brooke in a really shitty mood. It makes Vanessa’s heart break a little when she sees it every month; she hates seeing Brooke in pain, a pain she knows all too well and wishes she could stop for the both of them.

But even though she can’t stop it, she’s far from powerless to help. No, on days like these, Vanessa knows exactly how to make Brooke feel better, and so she creeps back into their bedroom, a plan hatching in her head.

When she emerges into the kitchen again, she makes no bones about making herself noticed, letting the click of her heels echo around her as Brooke snaps into attention and turns towards her. Vanessa stops, smiles, waits for Brooke to process what’s in front of her, and when she does, Vanessa can’t help but giggle a little. Brooke’s mouth has dropped open, her eyes wide as dinner plates as she looks Vanessa up and down once, twice over, her body suddenly becoming much less hunched, the tension leaving her back and shoulders.

Vanessa is dressed in Brooke’s favourite lingerie: a sweet, sheer pink babydoll top with white lace trim and a matching thong, legs framed in white fishnet stockings that trace up to matching lace garters. Coupled with innocently-batting eyelashes and a cute little pout, Vanessa can tell that in less than five seconds, she’s already gotten Brooke in the palm of her hand.

“You already horny this early in the morning?” Brooke raises an eyebrow, licking her lips as she continues to drink in the sight of her wife all dolled up for her, eyes almost frantic in their quest to find a place to focus on. “Or are you just trying to make me feel better?”

Vanessa shrugs. “Why not both?”

“Uh huh.” Brooke nods slowly, bemusement twinkling in her eyes as she tries her best to stifle the smile Vanessa can already see turning at the corner of her lips. “So you thought prancing around in lingerie would make everything go away, babe? Distract me and make me feel better?”

Vanessa shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Hm.” Brooke hums, and for a moment, Vanessa falters, wonders what’s going on in Brooke’s head. Usually by now, Brooke would already be halfway across the kitchen, making long strides to back Vanessa up against the wall and box her in, ready to ruin her. But right now, Brooke is calm, too calm, almost like she’s gone from admiring Vanessa to sizing her up, calculating what her next move is going to be.

But before Vanessa can dip into that fantasy, Brooke just tsks and turns back to her cereal and computer.

“What–”

“‘Maybe’ just isn’t good enough, sweetheart.” Brooke answers, not even bothering to look back at Vanessa. “You know how this goes. If you want mommy to pay attention to you, you need to earn it.”

Vanessa huffs, resists the urge to stamp her feet in protest. That won’t get her anywhere except bent over the counter and spanked, she knows that for a fact. No, if she wants to score today, she’s got to take the ball Brooke has thrown her and run with it.

So she does, stalking up behind Brooke and draping her hands over the blonde’s shoulders, smirking a little at the shiver her wife unsuccessfully tries to hide.

“I’ll earn it, mommy.” Vanessa leans down to whisper in Brooke’s ear, her hands travelling down until they ghost over Brooke’s tits. “I promise.”

Brooke doesn’t respond, only tenses, and Vanessa takes her chance. She cups Brooke’s tits through her shirt, palms and squeezes and teases until Brooke is practically melting into her touch, before walking around Brooke’s chair, noting with satisfaction how the taller woman pushes her chair out just a little to make room for her.

“What’s so interesting about that, mommy?” she asks innocently as she kicks one leg over Brooke’s lap to straddle her, reaching forward to tuck a stray lock of Brooke’s hair behind her ear and taking care to stroke at her jaw gently as she retracts her hand. “Don’t you want to watch me instead?”

Vanessa starts to move her hips in time with Brooke’s music, the pounding beat a perfect metronome for her dance. But, much to Vanessa’s frustration, Brooke holds firm, holding her hips down and eyes away from the younger woman in order to spur her on, make her want to keep upping the ante.

It works, of course; it always does, and so Vanessa finally lowers herself to sit down right on Brooke’s lap, grind down on her hips as she leans down to suck teasing kisses along the line of Brooke’s neck.

“Please.” Vanessa whispers against Brooke’s skin, breath hot and desperate. “Please, mommy, I need you.”

The plea is like magic words, and Brooke’s hands travel up Vanessa’s sides, a touch so light it almost burns as she thrusts back into Vanessa’s hips, finally grabbing on tight as she moves Vanessa forward more forcefully, harder and harder until Vanessa can feel herself starting to get wet. It’s only then that Brooke smiles, looks at her, bites her lip as if she’s thinking about what to do next.

“Please.” Vanessa whines again, and Brooke smirks, her eyes lighting up with mischief.

“So wet already, I can practically feel it through your little panties.” Brooke teases, continuing to rut up against Vanessa in a way that drives the smaller girl crazy, makes her drip just a little more. “All slick up against me like that, are you already that turned on, baby girl?” As if to accentuate her question, command Vanessa to answer, she grabs Vanessa’s ass, squeezes it lightly and chuckles at the way Vanessa whimpers at the touch.

“Yes, mommy.” Vanessa whines, “So horny for you. Want your mouth on my pussy.”

“Mm, aren’t you getting ahead of yourself, kitten?” Brooke muses, spanking Vanessa just hard enough to make her squeal. “I haven’t even had a chance to tease you yet, and you know just how much I love to do that.”

“But mommy–”

“Shhh,” Brooke soothes, placing a finger over Vanessa’s pout. “Good little girls don’t argue, princess. Don’t you wanna be good for me?”

“Yes, mommy, I do.” Vanessa acquiesces, her eyes fluttering closed as Brooke begins to pepper her with kisses, light dusts with her lips that gradually become longer, harder, more teasing.

“Why don’t we take this over to the bedroom then, huh?”

Vanessa only responds with a gasp as Brooke nips at the nape of her neck, and without skipping a beat, she’s up in Brooke’s arms and being carried into their room.

Brooke eases Vanessa onto their bed gently, smoothing out Vanessa’s clothes and leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on her lips before straightening up and surveying the woman laying in wait in front of her.

“So sweet like this, baby.” Brooke mutters, still making no move to touch Vanessa, not even get any closer to her. “Wish I could just watch you like this forever.”

Vanessa squirms uncomfortably, biting back a protest. Brooke knows what she’s doing, knows what this kind of teasing does to Vanessa. Knows how insufferable it is to stay waiting like this, anticipation only adding fuel to the curl of arousal in Vanessa’s belly.

“Mommy…” Vanessa starts, but Brooke just flashes a warning look her way.

“No begging, baby girl. I already told you, good girls don’t argue.”

Vanessa whines, her squirms turning into writhes as she tries desperately to get something from Brooke, anything , any sort of attention that might relieve the slick, still-building urgency between her legs. “I–I’m sorry, I just–I need–”

Brooke must know that Vanessa’s at her limit, because this time, she listens. Her face softens as she moves onto the bed next to Vanessa, clicking her tongue and reaching up to stroke the younger girl’s hair.

“There, there.” Brooke soothes, her voice warm with affection. “It’s not so bad, is it? Holding out for mommy, showing how patient you are. I think all that deserves a reward, don’t you?”

Vanessa nods eagerly, and Brooke smiles. “There’s my good girl. Now sit up, doll. As cute as these are, let’s get them off, yeah?” she tugs gently at the hem of Vanessa’s top with one hand, letting the other trace absent-mindedly along the lacy trim on the waistband of her thong. Vanessa doesn’t fight it; far from it, she sits up just enough for Brooke to whip off her top, lifts her hips up obediently as Brooke peels down her underwear, smirking at the wet patch that soaks through it.

“You’re so fucking cute.” Brooke praises, easing Vanessa back and settling between her open legs. “You ready for me, baby girl? Ready for mommy to make you feel all nice?”

“Yes, mommy.” Vanessa gulps, and oddly enough, there’s an undertone of anxiety in the sharpened feelings that course through her body, mixing with the arousal and anticipation and leaving her unable to lay still, unable to keep her head from spinning as she tries to guess what’s coming next.

“ Shhh. ” Brooke whispers, finally beginning to dust light, searing kisses down Vanessa’s neck and moving her hands to pin down Vanessa’s wrists. “I’m gonna take care of you, I promise.”

“I know.” Vanessa breathes, and then there’s no turning back.

Brooke doesn’t let go of Vanessa’s wrists; in fact, her grip on them tightens she moves to straddle her, further trapping her beneath rolling hips and a relentless mouth. Brooke grinds down on Vanessa mercilessly as she licks and sucks down her body, over her chest, swirls the tip of her tongue over a nipple. Smirks against its peak when Vanessa gasps, arches her back reflexively at the pleasure.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” Brooke kisses across Vanessa’s chest before sucking Vanessa’s opposite nipple into her mouth, paying it the same attention as before.

“Thank you, mommy.” Vanessa can’t stay still, can’t hold out, but she forces herself to try, hips half-bucking, half-squirming as Brooke continues to worship every inch of Vanessa, doting on any part of her that her mouth can land on. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Brooke reaches the lower part of Vanessa’s body, and her face comes to rest between Vanessa’s wide-spread legs.

“You’re so cute when you’re horny like this, baby girl.” Brooke muses, tracing a fingertip up Vanessa’s slit and watching with amusement when she shivers at the shock of arousal that surges through her body. “I’m barely touching you and you can hardly control yourself, how sweet.”

Vanessa is too far gone to reply, so Brooke continues to fill the silence, this time with the sound of Vanessa’s slick.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Brooke teases, continuing to play with Vanessa’s folds, alternating the pace and pressure in a way that she knows drives Vanessa crazy. “You’ve been talking and begging all morning, now you’ve run out of words?”

“I–I–” Vanessa starts, tries her best to form a reply, something, anything to show Brooke that she’s still present, still engaged, still paying attention and willing to do whatever Brooke says.

“Beg me to eat your pussy, angel.” Brooke commands sternly, arching an eyebrow as she plants a teasing kiss on the inside of Vanessa’s thigh. “C’mon. You know I don’t like to wait.”

The words seem to wake something up in Vanessa, because without so much as a breath more, words are spilling from her mouth, a mess of pleas tumbling out faster and faster until she can hardly understand what she’s saying anymore. “Please, mommy, oh, fuck, please , please eat my pussy, please, I promise I’ll be good, I promise, oh God, oh God, just please, mommy, please, I need your mouth, I need it–”

“Good girl.” It’s the last thing Brooke says before she finally plants her mouth on where Vanessa needs it mouth, smirking against Vanessa’s swollen clit as she begins to suck and lap at Vanessa’s cunt.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, don’t stop, please don’t stop, don’t –”

As if to directly answer her babbling, Brooke hones in on Vanessa’s clit, licking tight circles around it as she sucks down on it a little harder, brings her hands to Vanessa’s inner thighs to scratch at their sensitive flesh.

And then, as if to top it off, push Vanessa to the point of no return, Brooke withdraws, whispers one last command into Vanessa’s cunt.

“Come for me, baby girl. Do it.”

Vanessa’s breath hitches in her throat when she comes, the waves of pleasure so intense that she can hardly breathe, hardly move, hardly make sense of the world. Brooke licks her through her orgasm relentlessly, no signs of wanting to stop, and just when Vanessa thinks she’s about to come down, another climax knocks her back off her feet, back into an undone mess.

When she finally comes down, Brooke’s ministrations slowing until Vanessa goes completely lax, it takes a moment for her to come back to her senses, to make the world stop spinning.

But when she finally does, she laughs.

“Well?” Vanessa watches Brooke climb up to the top of the bed to lay with her wife, wiping her mouth. “Did it work? Feel any better?”

“You bet.” Brooke kisses Vanessa gently, pulls her close and hugs her tight. “Thank you, baby.”

“My pleasure. Literally.” Vanessa grins, cackling when Brooke rolls her eyes and gives her a playful shove.

“Seriously though, you need anything?” Brooke kisses Vanessa on the cheek, runs a gentle hand through her hair while Vanessa considers the question for a moment.

“I’m pretty hungry, honestly.” Vanessa shrugs. “But, um…”

“What?” Brooke frowns, her voice taking on an edge of concern. “You okay? Are you hurt? Do you need to talk about anything?”

“No, no.” Vanessa smiles, a rush of affection for Brooke running through her heart. “I’m okay, I was just gonna ask—can we cuddle for a bit first?”

It takes a moment for Brooke to process Vanessa’s request, for the question to break through her concern. But then, with a sigh of relief, she smiles.

“Of course, love.” Brooke gives Vanessa another squeeze, peppers her face with quick little pecks. “Anything you need.”

They stay like that for a while, Brooke comforting Vanessa as she comes out of subspace and Vanessa serving as Brooke’s personal heating pack, until they both fall asleep, breakfast forgotten.

[thepeterfuckinparker]

miss. thompson pt.2 — peter parker smut

Summary: After the heated exchange at school, Peter goes to Flash’s party to see you and things get hot and heavy.

Notes: CHARACTERS ARE 18++ and im still trying to get the hang of tumblr :( i think i tagged pt 1 properly so get check it out :)) it was a hit so i wanted to make another part, maybe there will be more ;) let me know! SEND REQUESTS!

Warnings: smut!!!

pt. 1

You sighed in boredom as the front door closed, instantly rising off of the large couch and trudging towards the kitchen. Flash could be heard on the phone while you poured yourself a glass of lemonade, climbing onto kitchen island and scrolling through your phone. All at once, your phone was flooded with texts. You furrowed your eyebrows, pressing on each one as you sipped your lemonade.

‘What should I wear?’

‘Yo! Is there alcohol?’

‘Byob?’

‘Send me the addy, I didn’t ss it.’

‘Is there gonna be food?!?!?!!!!’

You heard Flash enter the kitchen, his fingers tapping away at his phone’s keyboard. You glared at him, crossing your arms immediately. “Eugene, do you have something to tell me?” You said harshly. Your step-brother ignored your tone, rummaging through the fridge and pulling out a box of beer. Your eyes widened, instantly chucking the empty carton of lemonade at Flash. He yelled in annoyance, throwing it back to you. “Are you throwing a party?” You ask.

“What’s it to you? You’re not invited.” Flash spat back, pushing your shoulder to get off of the island. You did, watching him spread out bottles of alcohol and bags of chips onto the marble counter.

“It’s my house too.” You snapped, “Mom and dad are out for literally two days and this is what you do?” You watched him continue to walk past you and set up red solo cups. “Hello!” You exclaimed. Brothers could be dicks, many were gifted with sweet ones but you had been burdened with Flash. He wasn’t a complete pain, he always had your back and was very protective of you but he was also incredibly insensitive. You grew used to it, learning it was better than being an only child sometimes.

“Invite your dumb friends! I don’t care. Hot girls only.” Flash rolled his eyes, ignoring your stomps as you fled to your bedroom. You slammed the door closed dramatically, squealing in excitement after a few minutes and desperately searching your closet for what to wear. Your step-brother was known for having notorious parties, you hadn’t attended one in a while and had to admit you were eager to dance and drink a bit. You settled on a tight red dress, one that was casual yet party-ish. Flash wasn’t a big fan, but he had already downed a beer so he had loosened up. You texted friends while helping Flash set up the house, putting cars in garages, placing important vases into your parents bedroom. The party would commence in thirty minutes and you had finally gotten time to do your makeup. It consisted of mascara and lip gloss before fixing up your hair. You looked over at your phone as you heard the doorbell start to ring, people were arriving. You looked over at your backpack that sat by your bedroom door and thought back to a few weeks back in school. The time with Peter Parker, chemistry project gone wild, you hadn’t done much speaking to him since. You bit your lip as a thought crossed your mind, you grabbed your phone and instantly shot a text to Betty Brant. You both weren’t exactly friends, she was well-known, you were well-known. In a matter of minutes, you had gotten exactly what you wanted. Peter Parker’s phone number. You sent him the obnoxious party flyer that Flash had made on an app, insisting he should come. Peter hadn’t replied which made you a little upset, but you attempted to not overthink and join the party.

You grinned at the set-up, Flash had brought out speakers and was already blasting music. It wasn’t too shitty, you made some requests and helped him tweak his ‘DJ Flash’ persona, he was getting better. There were even flashing lights, people already crowding the house with red solo cups in hands. You found yourself a beer, popping it open and taking soft sip; you were to be the chaperone. You danced with friends, watched people jump into your backyard pool, you made sure the neighbors weren’t being too bothered. You kept yourself busy, one beer turning into three - enough to keep you buzzed yet alert. An hour into the party, you locked yourself away in your bedroom. You simply wanted a time-out, to scroll through your phone and lay down. Swiping out of Instagram, you found yourself searching for Peter Parker’s response only to find that he still hadn’t replied. ‘READ AT 9:32 PM.’ You sighed out in annoyance. The other day at school must’ve meant nothing, maybe you hadn’t made yourself clear, maybe he simply thought it was a one time thing and you clearly weren’t interested. But you were, you wanted to see him again. It wasn’t just the light amount of alcohol in your system, you were still sober. You liked Peter, a lot — and you liked him sexually too, he probably didn’t feel the same way. That had to be it. You were buried into your pillows, still scrolling through your phone before your bedroom door opened. The music that had been blasting downstairs seeped through, instantly causing you to groan.

“This room’s off limits. Find somewhere else to fuck.” You turned over and instantly sat up at the sight of Peter Parker, you fixed your hair, pulled down your dress. “Oh - hey!” You smiled.

“H-Hey, can I come in?” Peter asked softly, your smile grew wider as you nodded. He shut the door behind him, awkwardly walking and standing in front of your bed. “I heard about the party, a-and saw your text so I figured I’d swing by.” His eyes widened, “Not swing by! That’s crazy. I mean - my aunt dropped Ned and I off.” He cleared his throat.

You laughed at him, a rose tint covering his cheeks in embarrassment. “I understand.” You bit your lip, you noticed he hadn’t moved, anxiety in both of your systems. You crawled towards the end of the bed, waving Peter to sit by you. Your legs hung over the end, hands placed on your thighs as he took his seat. “Peter, about the other day - “ You noticed disappointment flash over his eyes, “I really liked it.” He instantly lit up, eyebrows raising. “I don’t know what came over me, that’s not usually how people tell their crushes they like them but - “

“I’m your crush?” Peter blurted out, his lips parted in shock. You twisted your lips and nodded, “You like me?” You nodded again, instantly feeling the urge to just run to your closet and hide, but you pushed forward and rested your hand on his thigh.

It was silent, it was making you nervous. Was Peter thinking about what to say? Obviously because he wasn’t into you. You mentally scoffed at yourself, you were you, of course he was into you! You smirked, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a kiss. Peter’s hands flew to your waist, feeling you crawl onto him and hover over. Your hands rested on his shoulders, knees buried into the bed as you sat on his lap. Your kiss deepened, his tongue easily playing with yours. He bit down on your bottom lip softly causing you to moan quietly. Just from the make-out session, from his hands running up and down your waist and back, you were soaking wet.

Peter stood to his feet, your legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed down your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed, soft whimpers leaving your plump pink lips. The wall was pressed against your back, your arms wrapped around his neck as he kissed down your collarbones towards the valley of your breasts. Your breathing was heavy, you took it upon yourself to pull up the bottom of your dress and pull down the top of your breasts. He admired your chest, pulling you up higher to take one nipple into his mouth. You groaned, arching your back as his warm wet mouth engulfed the sensitive bud. Peter set you down, your hands instantly going to his pants. You unbuckled his belt, unbuttoning them and yanking his pants down with his boxers. His length hit your stomach causing you to bite down on your bottom lip, eager to have his cock fill you up. You slid down the wall, your tongue taking a bold stripe up his shift. He gasped from above you, his hands instantly balling into tight fists. Peter hadn’t done anything like this before, the closest he had gotten with a girl was kissing; a bit of ass-grabbing. You, on the other hand, were somewhat experienced; but still a virgin. You intended on keeping it that way, despite your dripping pussy begging you to consider otherwise.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Peter stammered out, his hands unsure of where to go. You took his hard dick into your mouth, taking your hands into his and leading them to hold up your hair. He bit down his lip as he looked down at you, your pretty lips wrapped around his cock. It was a sight he surely would never forget. Your eyes locked onto his face, watching his face twist in pleasure as you looked up at him innocently. Your tongue focused on the tip of his length, swirling around it and hollowing your cheeks. You used one hand to jerk what you couldn’t take, his hips bucking. You gagged on his thick cock, stopping for air and wiping your lips. Peter instantly apologized, embarrassed for getting carried away. You giggled in response, kitten-licking his tip after reassuring him that all was well. You sucked softly, your spit dribbling down his shaft and down your chin. Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, his fingers gripping your hair tighter, pulling you in a bit closer. “I’m gonna come.” He whined out, Peter felt your hands trail from his cock to your wet pussy. Your fingers found your clit, rubbing it roughly while you continued to focus on helping Peter reach his climax. The eager boy began to thrust in your mouth, which you didn’t seem to mind at all. He groaned out, his eyes shutting tightly as he came into your mouth. You released him with a pop, sticking your tongue out jokingly to expose his release. Peter watched you swallow, instantly biting his lip at the sight.

“How was that?” You asked with a grin, wiping your mouth. Peter barely responded before he pulled you to your feet. You both moved to the front of your bedroom door, your hand gripping the doorknob for support. His lips found your swollen ones, his hands kneading your breasts. He peeled off your underwear with his lips still on yours. You felt him place his hands on your hips before he muttered for you to jump. You did as told, ready to wrap your legs around him only to be brought up higher. You squealed in response, his hands holding you up as you pressed your hands into the ceiling. “What are you doing?” You laughed, looking down to see him eyeing your wet pussy.

“Returning the favor.” Peter smiled at you, his hands held your hips tightly.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss onto your swollen clit. You moaned in response, your hands still touching the ceiling. He licked it lightly before swiping his tongue up and down. A cry left your lips at the feeling, Peter soon licking back up to your clit and wrapping his lips around it. He sucked lightly, his tongue still playing with the bundle of nerves. Your hands flew from the ceiling to his soft brown curls, tugging on them in encouragement. Your eyes rolled as his tongue flattened, you took the opportunity to grind down. Your body shook above him, your fingers still tangled in his hair, you didn’t want him to stop. It was almost like you were seeing stars, the building orgasm in your core was ready to burst. His tongue was doing wonders and you didn’t know how much longer you would last. Peter held you up with one hand, you weren’t sure where the strength was coming from but you didn’t care. His other hand trailed down your thigh before his fingers made their way inside of you, a louder cry leaving your lips. It was a gentle yet quick gesture, he looked up at you, making sure you were okay. The sight he saw was gorgeous, your back arched while your lips parted, sweat glistening across your body. His cock was harder than ever, even after the mind-blowing orgasm you had given him. He felt your fingers yank at his hair harder, your hips bucking, your moans growing louder.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,” You panted, your eyes rolling as you bursted. You felt a bliss, pleasure coursing through your veins as your orgasm washed over you. You shook in his arms, his tongue and sucking becoming lighter as you relaxed in his arms. “Oh my god, Peter.” You moaned softly, a smile spread across your face as he pulled back. Peter’s big brown eyes gazed up at you, returning the smile as you caught your breath. Suddenly, the door began to open. You gasped, pushing your back further in and Peter’s hand quickly shutting it. “Um - who is it?” You shouted, mouthing at Peter to let you down.

Peter did as told, bringing you down and setting you on your two feet. You used one hand to lock the door while the other adjusted your dress. The brown haired boy beside you scrambled to dress himself, his eyes wide. You fixed your hair and wiped your mouth before shoving Peter away from the door. You unlocked it and cracked it open, sticking half of your body out. You instantly grinned at Flash who glared at you, arms crossed. “What do you want?” You asked, clearing your throat.

“I need your help, neighbors called the cops. Someone saw them. Get everyone the fuck out of here!” Flash insisted, he gestured for you to hurry up.

“Oh uh - shit! Okay.” You nodded, “Let me put on some shoes.” You held up a finger before scrambling back into your room and locking the door.

Peter stared at you, “What do I do?” He asks quietly. The music was now off, Flash was sitting at your door. You pulled on your shoes, looking around for answers. The doorknob rattled again, you quickly pushed Peter, pointing towards underneath your bed. He understood, quickly scrambling to hide himself.

You rushed back to the door, opening it before Flash stormed in. “Mom and dad!” He pointed to his phone, you shut the door behind him. Your step-brother answered the phone, a fake grin plastered on his face as he spoke. He sat on your bed, laying down as your parents checked up. You felt nerves in your stomach, you felt like throwing up. “Yeah, everything’s fine. We’re watching a movie and we’re gonna head to bed, right Y/N?” Flash looked at you.

“Oh yeah! Totally - everything’s cool here.” You answered quickly, running a shaky hand through your hair. After a few minutes, your parents hung up. “Okay, go and tell everyone to get the fuck out. I’m gonna talk to the neighbors.” Flash inspected you carefully before standing up and nodding, he headed towards the door. He stopped in his tracks, his face scrunching up in disgust as he looked at the floor. “W-What?” You asked anxiously, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I thought girls rooms are suppose to be clean.” He pointed at your discarded panties on the floor, Flash rolled his eyes before leaving.

You sighed out in relief, locking the door behind him. “You can come out,” You mumbled before watching Peter crawl out. A light-hearted laugh left your lips, he rolled his eyes at you as he walked over. Peter kissed you gently, his thumb pressed against your cheek. “Thank you for tonight.” You muttered on his lips, he pulled back and thanked you in return.

“I gotta go.” Peter reminded you, his hands on your hips. You both clearly didn’t want to be separated but he had to leave. He reached for the door before you pulled him back.

“No! Flash will see you.” You argued, Peter looked at you in confusion. “Um - “ You thought to yourself, turning and looking at the window. “It’s not a far jump.” You smiled nervously.

“Y/N,” Peter whines before sighing and trudging toward the window. He opened it, peering down and glaring at you jokingly in response.

“I’ll see you again, right?” You asked softly, tucking a hair behind your ear. You ran your hands down your dress, bouncing on your feet.

Peter nodded, a smile on his sweet face. “Yeah.” You enjoyed tonight, it wasn’t just about the touching and being with him physically. You genuinely had feelings for Peter Parker, you wanted to see him again. You wanted more than this too, but until that comes, this would be fine.

You kissed him again, hands pressed against his cheeks before you heard your door rattle again. Your eyes widened as you ushered him to jump out. Peter nodded, watching the door open and quickly jumping out of view. You whipped your head, quickly closing your window and grimacing at Flash.

“Well, are you coming?” He shouted in an annoyed tone.

“I’m coming, jeez!” You exclaimed, rushing past him.

[iaal]

Hisoka Dirty Alphabet

OK so that’s my first contribution and obviously it has to be a thirsty post about Hisoka. I love that man and it says a lot about me.

also English isn’t my first language so if you see some horrible mistakes in my writing please let me know .

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

I feel it can go either way. Either he would stays and let you cuddle while he plays with your hair and tease you about the faces and sounds you made earlier or he could just straigt up leave once he's done depending on his mood. If it does stay and spend the night you better bet that he'd be ready for another round in the morning.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Hisoka definitly knows  he's eye candy, this man loves every inch of himself head to toe but he likes to attract attention on his arms and hips suggestively, you think he's just making weird pose ? It's not, it's a mating stance. I don't see him as a man who'd be too picky apparence wise for a partner. He can appreciate conventional beauty but as long as  his interest is caught and he thinks he can have some good time he would go for it, he's a sucker for nice full lips though.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Be prepared to have cum litteraly everywhere, even the walls are not safe with the trash clown. Hisoka's cum is opaque, very sticky and slighty sweet like you would expect for someone who calls his Hatsu "Bungee Gum : Elastic Love" and while it's nice when he finishes in your mouth it will drive you crazy when he'd aim for your hair. Just imagine washing honey, you'd need at least 3 shampoo to get everything off and he knows that perfectly, he finds this funny for some reason. As much as he likes to finish inside, when he knows that you both have all night he'd make it a game to cum in a different place each time to see how much of your body he could cover. He won't let you shower inbetween, he likes to make you dirty.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He have no shame period. He will tell you everything even if you don't ask for it. Wether it makes you wet or cringe he doesn't care, he just wants to see your reaction.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He had too many partner to even count, this man needs standards (and Jesus) . Everything he didn't already experienced or heard about he'll think of it on his own. He's smart and have a lot of imagination as we saw during his battle so it's only natural that he'd use his mind in bed. He would be very attentive to everything you say, your movements, gasps etc he'd find your button really fast whithout you having to guide him at all. Like everything else in his eyes, sex is a battle and he wants to win, his goal's to break you with pleasure until you're a drooling, half conscious mess.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Everything that let him have a good look at your face when you cum. He loves the physical pleasure of sex there's no doubt about it but what he aches for is contemplating the result of his caress and thrust when you come undone under him. He get an enormous satisfaction knowing he's the one doing that to you, like I said that's his win. I can see him asking you to look at him in the eyes when he senses you're close and his climax won't be long after yours.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Depends on his mood too. He would be pretty playful most of the times, driving you mad with his shitty grin of his but I can also see him not fooling around when his need is too strong. In the latter situation he wouldn't be up for foreplays either he'd just want to be inside you fast, like yesterday fast. He won't force you but he'd be a lot more agressive than his usual flirty self when he'd tease you so much that you'd be the one begging to finally getting him to fuck you. When he's impatient he'd just finger you and grind himself on you to relieve the need a bit until you're ready to accomodate his cock, once he's inside he would pound you like there's no tomorrow but still intend to make you come too either with his hand or, if you didn't finish before him, with his mouth afterward.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I see a lot of headcanon of people thinking the carpet match the drapes. I don't . Hisoka is all for surprise and I can imagine having his pubes the same color as his hair being boring for him. He would make stupid shape and dye his pubes in a color that complement his hair, no fashion faux-pas like Yellow and Orange.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Well ... he can fake it. It would be one of his games to tease you on how much you like it when he's sweet to you, and that maybe you like him and shit like that, I can't see him being genuine. He would like it  if you're overly sweet to him sometimes though, he have time when he likes being pamper a bit and won't tease you *too much* about it.

J= Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Yeah he jerk off a lot too. When he got times he'd go all out with lube, toy and getting in a room where he'd be in front of a mirror (i did say he really LOVES his body). This guy doesn't just jack off, he treats himself to a full course of pleasure. He would go slow and taking time to give attention to every of his sweet spots before even touching his dick. Hisoka would tease himself like he would for his partner, always delaying just a bit more the moment when he'd start pumping himself. I can see him  being pretty rough when he gets going, gripping his cock with way too much force to be comfortable. If you're available he'd call you when he's near his end so he'd come to the sound of your voice and because he's an oversharing slut.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Blood play, bondage, asphyxiation, edging, outdoor... you name it he loves it.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He loves thrill, he loves to embarrass you so semi public is the way to go. He'd fuck you particularly hard and fast to make you as loud as possible, don't even try to stay silent that'd encourage him to try harder and in the end he will win anyway. Bonus point if you're as shameless as he is and don't give a shit if someone sees you, he'd get out of his way to pick locations with the riskiest chance to get caught. He wouldn't go full public though he like the thought of being surprise in the act not giving a show to a crowd.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

If you breath he's already hard. Don't you know the man is a hoe ?

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I can only think of things that would gross him out, lack of hygienes, poop or pee, things like that being a big NO. I headcanon Hisoka as a very clean man, sure he likes to get you and him dirty but in the *right* way. Eveything else he would consider a boring fuck if it wasn't for his taste but he would sure as hell finish before leaving and never come back.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Both. He will eat you out any chances he gets, he's great at oral and he'd uses it to tease you relentlessly, stopping just when you're about to come to kiss and lick your thigs with his shit eating grin glued on his face. He would do that a few time until you start threatening to kill him if he doesn't let you finish. Seing you grabing his hair, feeling your legs shaking would delight him beyond words. Please look at him when he goes down on you, he's happy when he gets your full attention. He loves attention to his dick too, any kind, so he's pretty enthusiastic if you blow him, he would moan loudly and sing your praise in a way where you wouldn't really know if it's bullying or genuine compliment. Be careful though, if you want him to finish in your mouth he WILL fuck your face.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Whatever makes you lose your mind. That doesn't mean he's a selfless lover just that like I said he wants to win, he'd be sure that if anyone ask you "who's your best fuck?" his face pop immediately in your head. He's pretty good at manipulating people, even if you don't share his tastes at first he'd make at least some of his kinks yours by slowly incorporating them into your sex life and merging them with things he knows you like until you get some pleasure out of it. You're his toy and he wants to play with his rules. However when he chases his own orgasm he's very rough and if you weren't already into that it would be the moment when he'd bruise you with his gripe and leave bite mark on you. He would apologize after if it bothers you. He's not sorry at all.

Q= Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He loves quickies but more like something punctual than an habit, he'd prefer to take his time to have you needy and begging, he does love his mind game. Sometimes he would like to take you in a more animalistic way, right here and right now, it's usually when he's in his "no bullshit just fuck" mood, after a particularly exciting fight for exemple, in this case he would just straight up says that he wants you now and it's even better for him if you're outdoor so he can still indulge in his kink. If you accept he'd take you into the nearest hidden location and wouldn't lose any time to get started. It would be one of the time when he'd like to take you for behind and only focus on his sensation.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Hisoka isn't even careful with his life he wouldn't be careful with his dick. Do your worst to him there's a high chance he'd like it.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

You'd be spent waaaay before him, there's no question about that. He can go for days and his only limit is your staminia. You'd be raw and sore in the morning every time but hey you knew it would be like that ! That's why you chose to fuck the trash clown in the first place.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He uses them on him or his partner sometimes, it's more an once in a while fun. He likes the different sensations that toys can offer but he'd still prefere to go natural when he's with you, it's an ego thing. When he's doing his all "jerking like a diva" routine that's when he uses them the most.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Very very very unfair, that's his main turn on. Either with words or actions he would tease you all the time, coupled with the fact that's this man couldn't shut his mouth to save his life, be prepared to have a comment for everything you do to him and every reaction he'd fish out of you. With edging being one of his kink too don't expect him to let you come anytime soon, he'd be teasing you until you whimper in frustration and even then it wouldn't be the end of his torture. When he's going down on you or pleasing you with his finger he'd make you say eveything you'd want him to do to you, and then how, where, what rythm. You'd need to spell eveything out for him to let you finally come. It doesn't seems that hard but in the state you'd be in, just articulate a word would be harder than solving an advanced math problem. The good news is that he likes being teased too so feel free to make him pay.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

So loud, you can't even compete. He's shameless and he'd make every sound an human mouth can make. He has no restrain at all.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Hisoka nipples are extremely sensistive, you can make him come just playing with them. That's the spot to go when you want to have him going boneless under your touch and that's the spot to go when you're feeling mean and want some vengeance after all his teasing.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Thicc. Hisoka's cock is around 16cm, very grithy and curbing a bit to the right. The skin is pale like the rest of his body but  in a redder shade, his head get very red when he's aroused and precum, so much precum.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

If he didn't like fighting that much he would be fucking all the time, that's how high is sex drive is.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends if he's sleeping alone or not. If you excuse yourself out after you're done with him (because you're a smart girl and you know that all of this was a mistake) he'd go doing something else, I don't think the sex would have tire him so much that he'd need to sleep right away. He would probably take a shower first, maybe bother Illumi with some texts or keeping track on some of his fruit. If you do decide to stay and he's in the mood to let you sleep with him he'd sleep close to you and cuddle a bit if he's satisfied, he'd fall asleep not long after you and skip the shower so you could both take one in the morning together (and do the do once again).

[meat-husband]

Thomas Hewitt - Alphabet Ask Meme

I’m hoping to start doing requests on this blog, so I thought I would start up with the alphabet ask memes as a sort of intro! I figure all the letters get asked eventually, so I’m just doing all of them in one go. There will be one of these posted for each character I’m writing.

I have a page with what and who I write for here. 

Both the NSFW and fluff alphabet asks are under the cut!

NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Most of the time you’ve both got to get back to your household duties, but a few minutes spent being held and catching your breath won’t be missed. If there’s nothing pressing, you best believe there is gonna be some napping in the cool, dark basement, sprawled out in the little corner he’d made into a bed.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

The only part of himself he really judges aesthetically is his face. He doesn’t give much thought to the rest of himself in terms of appearance, so long as he can do the work that needs to be done.

This is sort of specific but - he loves that little bit of pudge that sticks out over thigh high socks, that’s good shit.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He doesn’t really care about where it ends up, until he gets ‘the talk’. Once he knows how to put a baby in you, it goes inside no matter how much you whine about the mess he makes.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Absolutely watches you without your knowledge for quite a while. He climbs up to the attic to peek through the floorboards, waits in dark rooms to look through the crumbling walls, hides behind the basement door and watches you through the peephole - once you get together he stops being sneaky about it, but even then you’re going to turn around to find him suddenly looming over you multiple times a day.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Honestly, it would be better if he had none. As it is, his uncles have taught him whatever they think he might need to know (his mama’s contribution amounted to ‘no hussies’ and ‘wait till marriage’). Once they see he might actually have someone interested, you better believe they crank that shit up to eleven. When you get ahold of him you’ll have to… reword some of the things he’s been taught. It’s not all wrong, mostly just vulgar.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9EgA2VzQFRA

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He’s usually pretty fucking intense tbh. Rough hands, snarls, hair pulling - he’s used to using his strength for just about everything, this is no exception. Early morning, sleepy Tommy is a different thing, though. Despite waking so early everyday he is not a morning person so you’ve gotta take charge. Warm him up with some snuggles beforehand and you’ll set yourself up for something a little slower and sweeter than usual.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Bruh. Have you seen this man. I am nearly certain the closest thing to a shower he’s seen in a while is getting sprayed down with the hose outside. At any given moment he’s either covered in sweat, blood or both.

He will always wash his hands before dinner though, Mama didn’t raise an animal.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He doesn’t put much thought or effort into romantic things, but that doesn’t mean he’s not affectionate. He’s very shy about touching, so you know the small pat on your head or the crooked smile you see when you reach for his hand are more meaningful than they might be to others.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Tommy goes through phases of denying himself things he needs/wants, especially when there is a lot of tension in the house or he’s feeling particularly shitty for whatever reason. Usually it’s food and rest he ignores, but pleasure is something he’d deny himself as well.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

So, obviously, breeding. That’s always going to be his number one, but taking it a step further, it’s going to drive him crazy when you actually get pregnant. He’s still going to have the urge to fill you up, even when you’re already full, and knowing he’s going to have to wait so long to do it again riles him up. You won’t even be showing yet and he’ll be ready to put the next one in you.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Technically, he has a bedroom upstairs but he doesn’t sleep there often. A few wooden pallets stacked in the corner and topped with an old mattress has served as his bed in the basement and it’s where he’s most comfortable now. That being said, he hasn’t really grasped that sex is usually a private thing. If you’re in the kitchen, on the porch, anywhere really, when the mood strikes him, he’s just gonna go ahead put his hands under your skirt. Hoyt thinks this is hilarious and no amount of furious, red faced scolding is convincing Tommy that this is not how to let you know he needs you. Of course, it only had to happen once in front of Mama for him to learn that that shit ain’t gonna happen when she’s around.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Sweet things, like soft touches and warm kisses, will always get him riled up. He’s not used to being treated gently, so he will eat that mushy, lovey-dovey shit up. Shy smiles, cuddling on the couch, hand holding - truly he is a deviant.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that might draw blood, like knife play or biting. He’s rough, but he’s not trying to hurt you. A few bruises here and there are alright, but anything more is too much.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He likes blowjobs when he’s tired or sleepy, but he won’t hesitate to get rough and put you in your place if you try to get him to finish in your mouth - that’s not gonna happen. He will always reciprocate unless you tell him not to, but he’s not very skilled. The mask tends to get in the way a bit and you can’t tug on the hair the way you’d like without pulling it out of the skin. It’s one of his favorite things though, and that enthusiasm makes up for what he lacks in knowledge. Sometimes you think he enjoys it more than you do, desperately holding your hips in place and moaning, open-mouthed, between your legs.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

Tommy’s always on the rougher side, with deep, slow thrusts that hit hard. He likes bottoming out and grinding against you, pushed in as far as he can and desperate to go deeper.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Honestly, he’s not got a preference either way as long as you’re both getting off in the end.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Whatever you want to show him, he’ll try. He’s not got many ideas of his own in terms of experimenting, so you can always tell when something he does or wants has been suggested by his uncles.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He puts all his effort into the first go, so unless it’s a quickie, he’s probably tapped out after that. If you really want a round two though, he will not pass up the opportunity to eat you out and it’s a surefire way to get him going again.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Not in Mama’s Christian, god-fearing household, no sir! (you know Hoyt has some shit he’s kept from the cars and luggage he brings in, only because he’s offered you and Tommy first dibs whenever he comes across something. You’re not sure if he’s serious or just wants to see your face go red - probably both tbh).

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If you let him, he’ll skip foreplay all together and get straight to it, so he’s not much for teasing. On the other side of it, teasing him works a little too well - push your luck and you’ll end up bent over the nearest piece of furniture, whether or not someone else is using it.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Everybody in the house knows when you’re getting dirty because Tommy will not. Shut. Up. For not being able to speak, he’s amazingly loud and clearly has no shame.

W = Wild Card (Get a random head canon for the character of your choice)

Tommy snores, loud, like a plane engine backfiring. Everyone else has learned to tune it out, but that’s hard to do when his face is right next to your ear.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Tommy’s ready to go anytime tbh, if he didn’t have so much work to do around the house you’d spend a lot more time in bed.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If you’re in bed, pretty much instantly. Of course, if you need something, like more blankets or a glass of water, he’ll be happy to get you taken care of before drifting off. Otherwise he’s pretty diligent about getting back to work, and making sure you do too.

Fluff Alphabet

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Soft hands, unworn from rough work, that reach for him at the end of the day, and even softer kisses pressed against the corners of his mouth and eyes and anywhere his own skin shows behind the masks. He wants that Soft Shit™.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

He’s not really been brought up with the expectation of continuing the family name simply because no one expected him to be able to. Of course that changes once he’s got a willing partner and Tommy always wants what his family wants. He’s going to have no idea what to do with a baby, but the combined praise from his family and you will have him ridiculously proud of himself when it happens.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Half on top of you, face buried into your neck and snoring is the normal position. Hair petting is a must, it helps him fall asleep. When it gets really hot he’ll give you more space, but even if you start out on opposite sides of the bed you’ll always wake up with him practically on top of you. Makes getting up to pee really difficult tbh.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

There’s not much to do that would make a traditional date with Tommy. He’ll take you on evening walks past ruined homes and barns, listening to the dogs and coyotes yipping in the pastures. Sitting on the warm porch, his head in your lap and your fingers in his hair as you read out loud. Short joy rides in the cars of strangers, before they’re taken to the old mill to rot.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

Family.

It’s always been the most important thing to him and becoming a part of that family isn’t an easy thing to accomplish. The others would accept you into the fold much more quickly compared to Tommy. He trusts his family completely and giving that kind of power to someone new isn’t easy for him so when it happens everyone knows it’s a big deal.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

It’s gonna hit him all at once and pretty early into knowing you. He’s going to be very suspicious of how nice you are, but it won’t take long for him to figure out you’re being genuine when you say those nice things to him.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

It doesn’t come to him naturally most of the time so he tends to overcompensate. He’ll be extra careful with you physically, but he also keeps and eye on what you’re doing throughout the day. You can totally lift the laundry basket yourself, but he’s going to do it for you anyways.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Okay, hand holding is Tommy’s jam. Mama thinks it’s sweet and has forbidden Hoyt from teasing either of you (he’s only barely holding back tbh). Usually you’re the one to reach for him, but if you take too long or aren’t getting the hint he’ll take the initiative. He’s shy about it, brushing his hand against you, hooking his pinky with your own timidly before finally sliding his hand over yours. He will absolutely not be able to make eye contact for a good five minutes afterwards, but he ain’t letting go either.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Suspicion. Whether you were dinner turned hostage or something else, Tommy doesn’t like or trust outsiders. Even when his family starts to warm up to you he’s still ready to drag you into the basement at a moments notice. He’s probably the most surprised out of everyone when you end up fitting in so well.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Tommy is jealous of pretty much every man that gets dragged into the house. Hoyt might like to mess with them first, but he’d rather get them into the basement as quickly as possible. It doesn’t matter what they look like, he’s under the impression that anyone is a step up from himself, so he’s not taking the chance. You’ve caught on that he doesn’t like you around them, at least, so you make things easy and keep out of the way.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Tommy is absolutely not going to make the first move when it comes to kissing. It takes quite a while for him to get used to touch in general, but his face is still a sensitive area, even with the masks. You would have to ease him into it. He’d be okay with quick pecks on the cheek of his mask right away and maybe you could catch him off guard with a sneaky kiss on the lips. If you want sloppy makeouts, you’ve got some work ahead of you. Once he does come around to it he’s still hesitant and you would have to start it, but he’s pretty firm about keeping the mask on for smooches.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

He can’t say it out loud, but he thinks it first. Kindness is the way to Tommy’s heart and unfortunately it doesn’t take much after so long without it. He’ll have a crush way before you start thinking the same. Once you’re together he doesn’t have a way to say ‘I love you’ in particular, but he’ll always give you a response when you say it, so you know he’s saying it back in his own way.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

Even though he’s not much of a morning person, he always wakes up before you. His favorite moments are in the early morning, before the sun has even risen, when you’re still asleep and he can hold and touch you, with hours left before either of you has to get up.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?) So, there’s not much for Tommy to spoil you with, but he tries. Clothing and jewelry from the meat that’s brought in are the most common gifts, but he’s always on the lookout for sweets and candies hidden in cars and purses to bring back to you.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

He thinks of red, the color of the bright, tacky shorts you were wearing when his uncle dragged you out of the cruiser, screaming. Your hands and knees were red too, scraped and bleeding, and he still feels guilty looking at the faded white scars.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Well obviously Tommy can’t really express any pet names verbally and he doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to use them anyways. I do love the idea of his partner calling him Bubba as a pet name though, and you had better believe Hoyt is teasing the fuck out of you both for it, no matter what Mama says. Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Pretty much everything they own is non-modern, even by the standards of the 70s. Most of it belonged to previous Hewitts and anything new is most likely from some unfortunate traveler. Tommy has always liked using the old sewing machine though, even when he was little and didn’t cover his face. Now he’s skilled enough to repurpose the clothes and belongings that get brought in, besides making his masks.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Rainy days aren’t much different from sunny ones if there’s work to be done. The winter rains are something he enjoys, just because it’s a nice change from the usual heat. He gets tired of it quick though, especially when the flooding keeps travelers away and there’s no new meat to look forward to. It’s nice to have a few slow days but he needs to work, to be productive and take care of the family, and it makes him restless not having his usual duties.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Seeing someone he cares about hurt or crying would upset him and he might curl around you, whining, but he doesn’t know what to do when he’s upset, let alone how to comfort someone else. It’s likely to get him more agitated than you are, and the only thing he knows to do when he’s hurting is get angry. He’s not got much of a temper usually, but any sort of distress will set him off, scratching and biting at himself, or worse.

He also doesn’t take comfort very well when he’s upset. Depending on the situation it’s best to leave him to himself, until he’s calmed down on his own. Attention and fussing will only make him angry and nervous. If he gets too bad then Hoyt can usually reign him in, and luckily you’ve never found out what happens when he can’t.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

He doesn’t speak, but once you get used to his body language it’s not hard to communicate at all. It’s easiest when he can respond to something you say or ask, but he’s not going to play charades to get his point across. If it can’t be said with a few grunts or pointing then it’s not getting said.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

It’s often Hoyt and Mama who make dinner, so you, Tommy and Monty will wait in the living room, watching TV until it’s time to eat. He’ll listen to you and Monty arguing over the remote, drown out the noise of the old Western you finally settle on and nap on the couch with you curled into his side. V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Usually he’s not much for showing off, but that changes when you’re around. Usually it’s when he’s helping you around the house - sure, he didn’t need to lift the entire goddamn table over his head for you to sweep under, but it worked, didn’t it?

W = Wedding (When, how?) It’s not so much a wedding as a big family dinner. It’s really more for Mama’s sake, since she can’t give you a traditional wedding like she’d want. Henrietta and her family come up to the house for the occasion and you spend all day in the kitchen, cooking with the older women. Tommy sticks around for the food, but he’s in and out after the eating is done. Most of the evening is spent around the cluttered table or out on the porch, listening to stories and receiving not-so-subtle hints about grandchildren.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Tommy really doesn’t like music, at all. He doesn’t mind the old radio playing in the kitchen, or the TV, but he won’t use them himself. He will listen to the news every once in a while, but he only puts it on for white noise when he’s sewing or working upstairs.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

As far as he’s concerned, you already are married. There’s no rings (unless you want one, in which case he’s got a collection in the basement) or ceremony, but he sees it as more of a promise between the two of you. You’re already family and that’s about as official as the Hewitts get.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

He’s not much for animals really. The family keeps chickens and pigs when they can, but they’re meant for meat and eggs. The feral dogs in the fields come around sometimes to get scraps and bones and he’s been around cattle for most of his life, but he doesn’t see a reason to keep a pet. Animals have uses, like people do, and that’s the only reason he’d keep one around.

[gremlinkweenarchive-blog]

Death of a Salesman Pt. 1

A/N: okay, so idk if y’all know, but i was the one responsible for the pimp traveling salesman hc anons that @ccodyfern was getting last night so uh, it’s only fair to write a fic. there will be more, but i figured clocking in at 1.8 k words, I thought this might be long enough jfkldsfjklsd. also, this is the first time i’ve written a fic or smut in a very long time, so i’m a bit rusty, but other than that, i hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Choking, Sleeping with another dude because the Salesman asked you to??? idk, I think that’s it

here we go! 

How this happened was a little beyond your understanding. One day life was normal for you, next you were traveling with this mysterious salesman. Your days are just filled with being cock drunk from your companion and days pass in a hazy mist.

In was a warm afternoon, and you were just napping naked on the bed of this shitty motel, letting the soft sunlight warm you. There was vague awareness as the bed dipped under added weight, but you couldn't be bothered with the wonderful warmth you were feeling. You're legs were moved and you felt finger tips teasing your clit. You moaned, but it wasn't enough to get you to awake from your slumber. You couldn't tell, but the salesman was getting impatient with you.

Suddenly, there was a sharp pain that made you jolt awake with a yelp. He wasn't satisfied with that, and he slapped your pussy again, making you yelp again and practically fold in half to try to keep from your center but he just pulled on your hair roughly, making you look at him. He was clearly amused with himself and your reaction to your wake up call.

"Good morning, my sleeping beauty," he purred as fingers traced her folds gently, making your head spin from the change of paces he's putting you through. He pulled your head again to expose your neck to him so he could leave his marks on you. His fingers sped up, finding your clit and making you call out. Your head is reeling from such an abrupt wake up call, but as crazy as this start was, it was over just as fast.

You felt your core tightening and about to snap and then he left you, making you whine loudly and look up at him. He laughed at your reaction and his eyes were gleaming mischievously at you as he loomed over her. "Get cleaned up, darling. I've got a sale and you're going to help me."

His words shock you, he never took you along with him on sales, you were mainly just his stress relief or celebration after a sale, depending on how it went, but now he wanted you to come with him? You almost didn't trust it, but you also feared what he would do if you refused outright, so you nodded softly in agreement.

He stroked your cheek lovingly, the most affection he's shown you and he hums softly. "You're such a good girl, pet. maybe later tonight, I'll give you a treat."

---------------------------------------

Tt was so shitty dive bar out in the middle of nowhere in the desert, but there were enough people there, so you didn't really know what to think of it. You followed your companion to the back in a little booth. He let you in first, keeping you guarded from the rest. Only what he permitted got close to you. It was little moments like this that you wondered if this was possessiveness or protectiveness, but part of you realized that you didn't really care. You were with him, and that's all that mattered.

You were nervously tapping the table, not sure what to expect, but he started rubbing your bare thigh to sooth you. "You're alright, pet. patience." He hummed to you as his hand started caressing the inside of your thigh, making your breath hitch. He just had a ghost of a smile on his lips. You tried to keep the same level of poker face as he did, but feeling his fingers start to tug at your panties, pulling them down. You obediently shimmed them off, but your eyes are go to his with questions running through your head, but he dismisses them with smile and a wink.

He turns from you to watch a young man approaching, his feet walk with confidence, but his face reads of confusion, as if he doesn't know why he's walking towards the two of you. you look from the young man to your companion, studying his features. He looks so angelic, friendly, but you catch the wolf hidden in his gaze, excited for new prey. You often wondered who or what he was, but you also knew no such questions would bring you any good, so you kept your mouth shut.

The new customer sat down with the two of you and the salesman slides his briefcase across the table to the other man. "Is this the pick me up you were looking for?" He asks with a cocky grin, and you watch with curiosity, you wonder if it's the cigarettes that he sees or if it's something else.

"I don't think I can take this," he says looking at the salesman, and then his eyes flicker to you. your salesman notices this too, and he smirks. He holds up your panties and you take a sharp breath and blanch slightly, "Does this sweeten the deal?" You grab his thigh under the table, letting your nails dig into through his pants, your silent "what the fuck are you doing?"

He shoots you a dangerous look that makes you let go of him immediately, and suddenly you regret your actions, but you are still burning with embarrassment.

The customer is at a loss for words and the salesman turns his attention back to him.

"Not enough?" he asks, waiting for the young man's answer.

The young man now looks at you now, more boldly, clearly stealing himself, and looks to the salesman again. "No. I want something more before I take this. Something to sweeten the deal."

The Salesman grins and turns to you, "Well, go on." Your brows furrow in confusion, and his look goes from good natured to steely with every second, "I said go on. Sweeten this deal."

It clicks in for you and your stomach drops. This is why he wanted you to come to this sale. You were just another thing to sell. "No," you say before you even think about it. He quirks an eyebrow at you, his anger is brewing, it's hidden, but you know the storm in his eyes.

He grabs your shoulder and holds you in place as he leans in and hisses in your ear. "You are going to ride his cock. Be a good girl and do as I say."

You could hate him now, and tears start to well up in your eyes. His eyes soften and he kisses your cheek gently. With a kinder voice, he said, "I promise, if you're a good girl now, I will reward you and make you feel like my princess. I will fuck you so hard that forget that this even happened. Just do this now."

His words, his actions shouldn't have this affect on you, and you know it, yet it soothes that hot hatred in your heart. He can feel your resolve break and he smiles against your skin.

"Good girl," he whispers into your ear and you maneuver across the booth cushions to the customer and you do your best to look at him like you desire this as much as he does, to make your salesman proud. If you are to play this role, then you will be just as much as a salesman as he.

You kiss him softly, before your lips kiss up to his ear, biting at the lobe as you straddle him. 

"Turn around," sounded across from the table.  

You listen to him almost immediately, trying to let this other man to know his place to you. You may desire him, but you are your salesman's, through and through. It's a double edged blade you walk. You make eye contact with your man as you start grinding into the other. Your hips moving into his slowly and tantalizingly. Your salesman is pleased with this show. 

The other's hand comes up to grope your chest through the thin fabric of your dress and you let bit back a moan. It seems as if the salesman enjoys this more than the man you're riding. You feel his bulge pressing into you, and your body reacts, but it's not the impressive bulge of the Salesman, it's not the cock you belong on.

Your panting picks up, but you know not to exhaust yourself just yet. You stop to lift yourself, and thankfully the customer knew what this meant, and he started to unbuckle his pants, freeing enough of himself to fucking into you. He pulled you back onto him, seething himself inside of you in one rough thrust. You didn't even time to bit back that sinful moan and you watched lust cloud the man across from you's eyes. 

He wasn't as thick as you'd like, but he was getting the job done, and the rough denim of his jeans were rubbing your clit. You hated to admit that it was getting harder and harder to bite back your cries. He was making quick work of you, the denim underneath you was getting wet with your cum.

"Just one rule," The Salesman spoke, making both of you look up, "You don't cum inside her cunt, that's still mine."  

You try to hide back your smile, but he sees it and you can see the approval in his eyes. He's proud of you, and in appreciation, he leaned over the table to stroke your cheek before his hand grabbed your throat just as he knew you liked it. You gasped as the pressure slowly increased on your throat which translated directly to your pussy tightening around the other's cock. The hand around your throat tightened, cutting off your air supply completely. A moan tried to sound, but you couldn't get anything out past the hand clamped on your throat.

You felt that coil tighten in your stomach again as your vision started to blur on the corners. You mouthed a please to the owner you the hand, the owner of your pleasure and life, and he smiled sweetly. Just as the vision almost went completely black, the traveling salesman released your throat allowing you to gasp for air. The shock of the air to your lungs was enough to make the coil inside you snap. Your whole body convulsed as the orgasm over took you and you didn't even notice the other man pull out of your cunt and paint your thighs and dress with his cum. 

You nearly fell off of him into the booth, trying to recover from that orgasm. You barely noticed that they finished the deal and that the customer left. The next thing you do know for certain is gentle and strong hands helping you to your feet and guiding you out of the bar. You hear the familiar voice of your beloved Salesman whisper to you. "You were better than I would have ever hoped for. Now, it's time for your reward, pet."