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#they totally went easy on them too
llatimeria · 2 years
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youtubers b like "there's no direct evidence that this easily fake-able story was faked, but it was posted to r/nosleep,"
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fingertipsmp3 · 4 months
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Today has been a productive day :)
#i did some work on a project because. idk. it was there#it was one i hadn’t seen before so i thought i’d try it out. i was kind of confused by the instructions so i only did a few tasks#but it’s okay#then i did a lot of building work on my ts2 prosperity neighbourhood#i finished every single community lot i wanted (specifically i built a salon; boutique; greengrocer and a coffee shop#the neighbourhood already had a gym; bar; convenience store; park and a roller rink)#i renovated one of my favourite maxis dorms to give it a layout that would actually make sense and be fun to play#(i don’t fuck with building my own dorms because i either make them too small or WAY too big#and they often turn out glitchy which is just not the vibe#but i’m totally willing to take a premade lot i know works and just gut it)#on a less nerdy note; my weighted blanket arrived#so i changed all my sheets so that i could put away my duvet for the time being and put the weighted blanket in a duvet cover#(i think this is the only way that makes sense because if i try to wash this thing it’ll break my washing machine#it’s 8kg. i don’t think i conceptualised that until the yodel delivery guy abandoned it on my doorstep and ran away because he didn’t want#to carry it anymore. that guy needs a raise. anyway. it’s HEAVY. i’m going to be SMUSHED. i can’t wait to go to bed tonight)#THEN i went for a run#it’s been probably like two weeks since i actually had what i would classify as a GOOD run (which is an overachieving run tbh)#so i decided fuck it; i’m just going to start my couch to 5k program over#and to be honest it was the perfect decision. it was easy enough that i can tell i’ve improved since i first started this program#but hard enough that i felt challenged and i know it was the correct decision to go back to the beginning#(for the integrity of my knee if nothing else. my knee is.. not feeling great. which is not ideal because i’m going to pride soon haaaaaaaa#we’ll worry about that when we get to it.)#then i got home and found out like 4 of the things i listed on vinted yesterday have sold so that’s really nice#that’s another £20 in my account and a bit more decluttering done. which i’m pretty happy with#now if you need me i’m going to watch a cooking show for a bit#personal
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niennanir · 1 year
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Listen to your elders
So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.
So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.
But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?
In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.
Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download
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Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title: 
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No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.
Now you’re going to need some materials:  8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife
You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.
Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:
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use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.
Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.
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Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.
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You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.
Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour
In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock
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Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)
Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.
Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine
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Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.
Voila:
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I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.
The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.
If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders. 
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nightingale-prompts · 25 days
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Nightwing gets a sidekick introducing: "Batboy"
Continuation of this post: "Danny has Bat wings"
|Next|
Dick tries to tell himself that he's better then Bruce. He's not going around taking young orphaned boys with unique abilities willy-nilly. No, he very carefully. Besides this is first-well second sidekick.
He's doing a public service anyways. You can't have a kid with giant bat wings just falling from buildings. If Nightwing hadn't stepped in to stop those goons trying to catch the kid and sell him then who knows what would have happened. What if they tried to cut off his wings and turn the boy into a bloody trophy for the Bats?
There are many villains in Bludhaven who'd take the boy out or take him in. Dick already had a sinking feeling that Heartless would try his hand at killing the kid after all he targets the weak and helpless like a coward.
It was easy enough to convince the boy to be his friend. Dick did have natural charm and charisma after all. All it took was a meal from batburger and a fruit cup to get the kid to open up.
Danny (apparently his family gave him a normal name) didn't live with his family anymore due to ideological differences. That difference was that they thought he shouldn't exist anymore and wanted to turn him into an experiment. Poor kid didn't even get to finish his freshman year of school before he had to leave. He was a small town vigilante for a few months before the incident.
Dick saw an opportunity but was subtle about it. He invited the kid to live with him until he got his education. Its also totally ethical because the kid was a vigilante already.
Everything kind of went by quickly. Dick had done everything possible to hide Danny until he could come up with a plan of how to tell everyone.
True Dick didn't "need" a sidekick but come on, look at him! He's a boy with bat wings! Dick could put a little cowl on him and dress him up like Batman. I mean he's not a dog but it would be funny. The irony there, the bird-themed hero now had a bat-themed sidekick. That is the universe's way of sending a message.
After training Danny Dick learned that the kid had an endless supply of energy and ADHD that rivaled his own at that age. The kid also couldn't fly, it was actually closer to gliding which was still useful but he kind of looked like a flying squirrel when he jumped off ledges.
The term issue with taking Danny in was that Dick was still a Wayne and while he could hide the kid while he was swinging through Bludhaven, Dick Grayson could not.
Danny could hide his wings like they weren't even there whenever he wanted to look human. Which was a start, next he needed a new identity. One that wouldn't tip anyone off.
Dick needed to pull some strings without alerting Barbara or Tim. A new name was forged: "Daniel Nightingale" (Dick patted himself on the back for that one).
With that Dick was ready to let Danny out in the field. For the most part, Danny was as reliable as any Robin if not a bit crazy. Danny was way too charming for his own good but also completely feral. The public adored the domino-masked kid in his green and black costume. Danny didn't wear a cape because of his wings so he used them as a cloak.
When citizens saw them in public they'd offer the kid fruit cups and candies just to get close enough to see his wings. The people of Bludhaven were also excited to have their own version of Robin since Gotham had so many. Also, the kid was so marketable. Look at the way his wings flapped when he was excited.
Danny's or more specifically "Batboy's" presence would not go unnoticed.
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Well, this can't end well.
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Welp. Dick should have expected this. He couldn't even be upset. He doesn't regret anything that he's done.
Danny was still in bed, actually it was a hammock which was more comfortable for a bat. Dick wondered if he could sleep upside down. The kid was comfortable here and probably better off here than in Gotham. Once the adoption goes public however things will get complicated. Danny may end up Bludhaven's sweetheart or outcast. He'll probably end up fine...probably.
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veritasangel · 2 months
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Let It Happen
ft. Simon Riley
⋆ ˚。⋆ fem pov ୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw content {mdni} ↣ vaginal penetration, oral (receiving & giving), cum eating, fingering, age gap (reader is college age)
↣ When your car breaks down, the first person you call is your best friend's Dad.
wc: 4.8k
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Simon groans, eyes barely opening as he tries to reach for his phone.
1:00 a.m. 'Who calls at this time?' he thinks.
His eyes adjust enough to read your name, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little nervous as to why you'd be calling so late. He immediately sits up, answering the call. “What’s up—”
His words are interrupted by you incoherent panicked rambles about what happened. “Okay, okay, kid—hey, kid, chill. Speak slower.” he says as he puts the phone on speaker, already throwing on some sweatpants and a t-shirt.
Simon listens as you explain to him that you went out for a late night drive but ended up a way too far out of town, and then your car decided to quit on you.
“Of course it did.” he mutters under his breath, shaking his head. “Alright, can you send me your location?” he asks, grabbing his shoes and car keys.
'The things I do for her' he thinks to himself as he waits for you to send your location.
It’s just because you’re his son's best friend, totally no other reason why he drops everything to come whenever you call.
“Alright, just stay in the car, doll. Make sure it’s locked. I’ll be as quick as I can, yeah?” he says as he pulls out of his driveway. “Gonna get off the phone a second to call someone about your car, is that okay?” he asks, ready to stay on the call with you if you prefer.
“It’s okay,” you say, your voice still shaky. “Just hurry, please.”
“Don’t worry, I’m on my way.” he reassures you before hanging up to make the necessary call.
It’s not long before Simon turns up, slightly cringing at the sight of your car. “Made it sound like your car was playing up for no reason.” He says, as he walks over to your car, watching as you get out of the drivers seat.
“You look like you’ve been playing pinball with the piece of junk.” He jokes. You knew he never liked your car, always had been very vocal about it being a death machine.
“I’m so sorry for calling you so late, I didn’t know who else to call-"
“It’s okay, kid. Glad you called me. Though you could’ve called my son, no?” He laughs a little knowing damn well he's glad you chose to call him over his son.
“I didn’t know how knowledgeable he’d be and I thought you’d probably know more so I went with you.”
“Yeah, that kid’s got many talents, but cars ain’t one of them.” Simon chuckles. He gives your car a once-over, grimacing at the state of it. “What did you do, drive through a minefield?”
“I swear, I didn’t do anything! It just stopped working!” you protest, your frustration evident.
“Alright, alright,” he says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I believe you. Let’s just wait for the tow truck. I called a guy I know; he should be here soon.”
You both stand by the side of the road, the cool night air filled with the chirping of crickets and the distant hum of traffic. Simon glances at you, noting your tense posture. “You okay, kid?”
“Yeah, just... tired and a little shaken up.”
He nods, his expression softening. “Don’t worry about it. Happens to the best of us. Just thankful you’re safe.”
The two of you make small talk while waiting, the easy banter helping to calm your nerves. Eventually, the tow truck arrives, and the driver hooks up your car.
“Alright, let’s get you home,” Simon says, opening the passenger door for you.
You climb into his car, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment. As he starts driving, he glances over at you. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, just...thanks for coming to get me.”
“You did the right thing,” he says firmly. “I’ve always said, anytime you’re in trouble, you call me, got it?”
“Got it.” you reply, feeling a warm sense of security.
The rest of the drive is quiet, the hum of the engine and the rhythmic thump of the tires on the road lulling you into a sense of calm. You glance over at Simon, his focused expression lit up by the passing streetlights. No matter how tough he acted at times, he was always there when you needed him.
And you couldn't help but subtly admire him. He’s an attractive man and he knows it, definitely knows the affects his nicknames have on you too. But you couldn’t think about him that way, he was your best friend’s Dad. No go territory as he had once told you.
When you finally reach your place, he pulls up to the curb and turns off the engine. “Here we are,” he says, turning to you.
“Thanks again. I really appreciate it.” The two look at each other for a moment too long and you both know it.
He's silently warring with himself as he leans closer and fuck he should pull away, knows he can’t do this, you’re his son’s best friend, but is it really so bad when you’re leaning in too?
Simon's lips meet yours and you can’t bring yourself to pull away. The kiss is soft and slow at first, before growing more insistent, more demanding. He deepens the kiss, his hand in your hair, tugging gently as he explored your mouth. He tasted like cigarette smoke and scotch, a bold, intoxicating flavour that made you weak in the knees.
His hand released your cheek, slowly trailing down your jawline before gripping the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His free hand slid from the steering wheel to your thigh, his thumb rubbing small circles against your knee. He moved his hand, slowly creeping higher, his thumb brushing against the hem of your skirt.
His kisses became more desperate, his tongue demanding entrance to your mouth once more. His other hand slid under your shirt, kneading at your side, his fingers trailing dangerously close to your bra. His breathing grew heavier, a low growl rumbling through his chest.
He broke the kiss, panting, his eyes dark and hungry. "I've wanted to do that for a while," he whispered dangerously, his voice deep and rough. "But you're my son's friend, and I'm like twice your age" He chuckled darkly, shaking his head, though his hands remained firmly on you. “Fuck, I really shouldn’t have done that-”
“Sorry- I…” God what was I thinking? “I shouldn’t have done that either.”
Simon's eyes softened, a mix of guilt and desire still lingering in them. "You didn’t do anything wrong, kid," he murmured, his voice husky and low. "I'm the one who shouldn't have done that. I know better."
He pulled away, his hand falling from your thigh, leaving you feeling suddenly chilled. "We can just pretend that didn’t happen," he said, trying to sound convincing, but his voice cracked, betraying the fact that he was struggling with it just as much as you were.
He shifted in his seat, the unmistakable outline of arousal straining against his sweatpants. His face flushed, and he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "So, uh, I'll, uh- I'll let you get out now." he said, his voice thick, trying to focus on getting you out of the car and back to your place.
A heavy silence descended between the two of you, broken only by the two of you breathing, the tension palpable.
You should leave it there, you know you should. Get out of the car, walk to the the door and never think about this moment again, so why do you say...
“He's not here tonight.”
The realization that his son wasn't home hit Simon like a freight train, his heart hammering in his chest as your words hung in the air between you. He glanced at the house, his mind racing, trying to reconcile this new information.
“He's not?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze flicking back to you. "...Well, I suppose I could walk you to your door, just to make sure you get in safe, before I leave," he suggested, his voice tense, strained.
The two of you get out of his car as you approach your front door. Simon watched you, his gaze intense, as you fumbled with your keys, his own heart racing. He couldn't deny the attraction any longer, the tension between you had become too much to bear. before you finally open the door and step inside.
Thanks for dropping me off. I hope you have a good night Mr Riley.
That’s what you were supposed to say, but instead you held the door open waiting for him to follow.
He followed you and once inside his body began to move on instinct. He gripped your waist, pulling you closer, his lips crashing against yours once more, his kisses desperate, hungry.
"Shit, doll," he muttered against your lips, his voice thick, rough. He tore his mouth from yours, his eyes still dark with want. "I shouldn't be doing this," he growled, his hands roaming your body, trailing up your sides, before cupping your breasts slightly, squeezing them through the fabric.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, "But I can't- can't fucking stop myself." he whispered, his breath hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hand slid to your waist pulling you flush against his arousal.
He groaned, his hold on you tightening, "You have no idea how much I've wanted to do this," he said, his voice hoarse, as he nipped at your earlobe, his other hand tangling in your hair, tugging gently.
You were his weakness, the one he shouldn't want, and yet he ached for you, greedy for every inch of you.
The one thing he wasn’t supposed to want and yet he did.
Simon lifted you off your feet, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist. The sudden rush of adrenaline made your heart race as he carried you over to the sofa. He sat down, pulling you onto his lap, his hands roaming your body as he kissed you, his tongue dancing with yours.
His hand slid under your skirt, rubbing against your thigh, his fingers dangerously close to where you wanted them. He bit your lower lip slightly, his eyes dark and intense. "Take these off," he demanded, his voice rough and commanding as he toyed with the waistband of your panties.
His arousal pressed against your hip, the evidence of how badly he wanted you. He trailed kisses up your jawline, his hand still teasing you, making you squirm in his lap. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the tension in his body.
Simon's grin was wicked as you stood up, watching as you shuffled out of your panties. His hand slid up your thigh, gripping your ass as he pulled you back onto his lap, so that you straddled him.
He groaned when his fingers pushed through your folds, "Fuck, you're soaked for me, doll," he murmured, his voice rough with desire.
You should've been embarrassed at how wet you were for him but it was the last thing on your mind as Simon's fingers delved into your folds, his thumb flicking and rubbing over your clit. You leaned back, your head falling back, a moan escaping your lips.
Your body ached for him, craving the friction, the touch that was driving you wild. You ground against his hand, desperate for more. "Please," you whimpered, your heart hammering in your chest, your mind hazy with lust.
You gripped his shirt, your nails digging into the fabric, the need for him overwhelming. You arched your back, leaning into him.
Your skirt was still around your waist, but you barely noticed, all your attention focused on the pleasure he was coaxing from you.
His fingers danced against your clit, causing you to squirm in his lap. "Please what?" he teased, his voice thick with lust, his own need for you becoming impossible to ignore.
"Please, fuck me," you begged, your voice a pleading whisper.
Simon pulled his fingers away from your wet core, sliding them into your mouth. You couldn't help but moan as the taste of your arousal flooded your senses, the action making you shudder.
"How badly do you want it?" he demanded, his voice deep and commanding, his eyes filled with lust.
Your hips rocked back and forth, desperate for any kind of friction. "I need you, Simon," you panted, your voice raw, the need for him overwhelming. "Please, please fuck me, I need to feel you inside me," you begged, your eyes filled with desperation.
You shifted, trying to grind against him, desperate to alleviate the ache deep within you. Your hands gripped at his shirt, tugging at it, wanting to feel his skin against yours.
Simon's grin was dark, predatory as he pulled your shirt over your head, his gaze raking over your body, as he unclasped your bra, moving it to the side to expose you completely.
He groaned, his hands gripping your hips as his mouth closed over one of your nipples, his tongue teasing it. "You're so beautiful," he growled, his voice thick with lust as he nipped at your other nipple, making you moan and squirm in his lap.
“Show me how bad you want it.” he says.
You leaned forward, grinding your hips against his erection, feeling how hard he was for you. Your body was aching, desperate for release.
Your breathing grew heavier as your movements grew more urgent, the need so overwhelming you barely noticed the mess you were making on his sweatpants. Your eyes were locked on his, your gaze pleading.
"Please, I need you, Simon, please," you whispered, the desperation and need clear in your tone. She wanted nothing more than to feel him, to be wrapped around him, to be his.
Simon's smile was dark and wicked as he watched your movements, the sight of you writhing on his lap, grinding against him, driving you closer to the edge. "Yeah?" he smirked, his voice a growl. "Get yourself off like this then."
Your eyes widened at his words, your body trembling with need. You felt exposed, on display for him. But you wanted to show him, to please him in this way.
"Fuck, yes, that's it," Simon encouraged, his words rough and thick, his own need for you growing.
You focused on the feeling, the sensation of your body pleasuring itself. Your breathing grew ragged, the pleasure edging closer, "Simon, I'm close-" you whispered, your voice thick with need.
Simon's hand squeezed one of your breasts, teasing your nipple as he watched you, a wicked grin on his face. "So eager for me, aren't you, love?" He teased, his voice a low growl, his other hand helping you grind against his erection, the friction making your whimpers louder.
You leaned your head back, your need for release growing. "Please-" you begged, your voice hoarse, the words barely audible.
Your body tensed, the pleasure building, the edge of the cliff growing closer with each movement.
"You gonna come for me, pretty girl?" Simon teased, his words encouraging your movements.
Your hips jerked, your body arching into his. Your moans muffled as he kisses you. "Yes, oh God- yes-," you gasped, your voice breaking, the scent of your arousal heavy in the air.
You clung to him, your nails digging into his shirt once more, your body trembling, the pleasure building within you until you cried out, your hips bucking, your release washing over you.
Simon chuckled darkly, glancing down at the wet patch on his lap. "You made a mess," he teased, the words holding a hint of approval.
He admired your form, the beauty of your body, and the way it responded to his touch. With a firm grip on your hair, he pulled your head forward slightly, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Look at me, doll," he commanded, his voice a low rumble, filled with lust and dominance.
Your eyes locked on his, your heart racing, your body still buzzing from the orgasm you'd just experienced. 
Simon's gaze held yours, unwavering. "You sure you want me?" he asked, his words heavy with the promise of what was to come.
Your hand moved, reaching out to grip his erection through his pants, her fingers wrapping around him, feeling the hardness beneath her touch. "I want you, Simon. I need to feel you inside me," you breathed, your voice thick with need.
Simon's breath hitches. He lifts his hips allowing you to lower his sweatpants and boxers, the fabric sliding down his legs to reveal his thick cock, throbbing with need.
You shifted, moving so your head was level with his cock, your fingers gently brushing against it as you positioned yourself.
You wanted this, you wanted him, and there was no turning back now. You lowered your head, your lips parting as you wrapped them around his tip, taking him into your mouth, your hand gripping his base, your lips moving up and down his shaft.
Simon's groan was a low rumble, his fingers threading through your hair, guiding your movements as he watched you. "That's it, love," he encouraged, his voice thick with lust.
His grip tightened, his hips rocking gently against your mouth in time with your movements, urging you to take more of him.
Simon's grip tightened in your hair as you took him deeper, his hips rocking against your movement, his breathing growing heavier. "Slowlyy-" he teased, his voice a soft growl. "Don't need you fucking choking on it."
You obeyed, your mouth moving more slowly, your hand pumping his shaft, your tongue swirling around the head before sliding back up. Your eyes locked on his, the need for him growing with each movement.
Simon's breathing grew heavier, his fingers gripping your hair tighter, his hips moving against your mouth with more urgency, his groans growing louder, the control he usually held onto beginning to slip.
"Fuuuck-" he groaned, his grip tightening, his head falling back, the pleasure building within him. You continued your movements, your desire to please him, to bring him to the edge driving you.
You looked up, your lips still wrapped around him, your hand moving along his length, your voice muffled by his cock. "Am I doing good, Simon?" you asked, your eyes shining with desire as you waited for his response.
Simon's hand tightened, his hips rocking into you, his breath hitching. "Fuck yes, doll, you're doing perfect," he groaned, his voice thick with lust, the control he usually held around his orgasm slipping, the pleasure building within him.
"Fuck, yes, like that," his breathing was growing heavier, his hips moving faster, his cock throbbing in your warm mouth.
The scent of him, the taste of him, all combined to make your arousal grow, your body quivering with need. 
"Shit, stop-" Simon panted, his voice a growl as he pulled you away from his cock, his eyes locking on yours, the lust and need in his gaze. "Not yet- Wanna fuck you first," he said, his breathing heavy, sweat glistening on his skin.
He carried you upstairs, his pace quick, his lips never leaving yours. "Where's your room?" he mumbled between kisses, his tone a low growl, his body still humming with need.
You directed Simon to your room, your body still humming from the pleasure you'd brought him, your own need growing within you. 
Once inside your room, Simon laid you down gently on your bed, pulling your skirt off finally. His gaze broke from you temporarily as he stripped off his shirt, revealing his impressive physique and tattoos. His body was a testament to the hard life he'd led, scars crossing his chest.
His lips trailed along your jaw and down your neck, the rough texture of his stubble brushing against your skin, his teeth grazing you softly.
One of his hands moved downwards, teasing a nipple, his fingers rolling it gently between his fingers before sliding down to your core, his fingers brushing against your folds.
"Might have to coax one more out of you," Simon whispered, his voice a low rumble as he curled his middle and ring finger inside of you, your walls clenching around him immediately.
His touch was expert, his fingers finding your sweet spot almost instantly, your breath hitching as pleasure coursed through you.
You threw your head back, pleasure coursing through you, a small whine escaping you. "Please, just want your cock, want you inside me-" you begged, your body quivering with need, your eyes locked on his as you waited for him to fulfil your desire.
"Patience, doll," he growled, his voice a low rumble, “Gotta' make sure you can take me.” 
Simon lowered himself between your thighs, his fingers continuing their slow dance inside you, his lips moving to your folds, his tongue licking up one side, leaving a trail of wetness in its wake.
His fingers thrust inside you, his tongue flicking against your clit, the sensation overwhelming, your body arching in response to his touch.
You whimpered, your nails digging into the sheets. You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt this overwhelmed by pleasure, completely at the mercy of Simon's touch.
His fingers and tongue worked in perfect harmony, driving you closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling, your breath hitching
Simon chuckled, his breath fanning against your skin as his tongue flicked against your swollen nub. "Feisty one, aren't we, doll?" he teased, his voice a low growl, his fingers thrusting inside you, his tongue working on your clit.
His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body trembling, your hips rocking, your moans growing louder, the pleasure building within you, the anticipation of having him inside you growing, your body responding to his touch, his lips, his fingers.
"Be a good girl. Cum for me, and I'll let you have me, yeah?" Simon drawls, his voice a low rumble as you ground against his tongue, the obscene noises it made driving you further, the pleasure building within you.
You writhed beneath him, your body quivering, the edge close, your nails digging into the sheets as your moans grew louder, your hips rocking, the pleasure and need for him growing.
Simon continued his ministrations, his fingers thrusting inside you, his tongue flicking against your clit, the combination of his touch driving you over the edge.
You cried out, your body convulsing, your release washing over you as you came for him. Simon continued his actions, milking your orgasm, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he feasted on you, his lips never leaving your folds. A low groan escaping him as he slurped up your juices.
His gaze locked on yours, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable. "You have a condom?" he asked, his own arousal evident, the need for you clear in his features.
You nodded, reaching for your bedside table and pulling out a condom to offer to him.
Your gaze lingered on his impressive form, your eyes drinking in the sight of his muscles as he reached for the condom. He'd retired from the military but there was no denying that he still kept in shape, it was evident.
The way his muscles moved as he slipped on the condom, the way he stood there, his dark eyes locked on yours, it sent shivers down your spine, the anticipation building within you, the need for him growing.
He climbed onto the bed, his body above yours, his hands gripping your waist as he lowered himself between your thighs, aligning himself with you, your eyes never leaving his.
"Ready, doll?" he asked, his voice a low growl, his cock pressing against your entrance, his gaze holding yours.
You nodded, taking a deep breath, anticipation and nerves mingling within you.
"I need words, sweetheart," Simon said, his voice a low growl, his gaze locked on yours, his cock pressing against your entrance.
Your lips parted, your voice a soft whisper. "I want you, Simon. Please."
With your permission, Simon slowly pushed into you, his pace slow and deliberate, allowing you time to adjust, his eyes locked on yours.
His muscles tensed as he entered you, his breath hitching, the pleasure evident in his eyes, the need to claim you clear in his features.
As Simon bottomed out, his eyes closed, a low groan escaping him, his hips stilling for a moment, his body seemingly revelling in the tightness. He started to pull out, his pace slow, his eyes locked on yours, the lust in them clear.
He began to thrust, his pace slow at first, building in speed as you both grew more comfortable.
With each thrust, the pace grew faster, his hips slamming into you, the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room, the rhythm of your bodies mingling, the pleasure building within you both, the heat between you growing.
"God you feel so good," Simon ground out, his breath hitching, his eyes locked on yours, the pleasure building within him.
His hand gripped the back of your head, his thumb brushing against your jawline, guiding your head so that you looked down at the two of you, connected, your eyes widening at the sight of him filling you.
"Look- fuuck- look at how well you're taking me," Simon growled, his pace growing more frantic, the need to claim you overwhelming, his eyes locked on yours, the pleasure between you building, the tension coiling tighter.
You bit your lip, unable to speak, the sight of him filling you leaving you breathless.
Simon's thrusts grew more forceful, his hips slamming into you, your body responding to his, the pleasure building.
You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your moans growing louder, the pleasure overwhelming. The anticipation of your release growing, your body responding to his, your hips rocking to meet each of his thrusts.
"Simon- pleasepleaseplease, fuck-" you begged, your voice a breathless plea.
His hands moved to grip your hips, helping you meet his thrusts, his pace steady and intense, his eyes locked on yours, the need to claim you burning within him.
"You let-thrust-shit- you let my son do this to you?" he breathed out, his pace relentless, his grip on you unyielding.
You shook your head, your voice a breathless moan, your eyes locked on his, the pleasure between you building. "No-" you cried, your hips rocking to meet his thrusts, your moans growing louder.
The world around you began to fade, the only thing that mattered was this moment. You know you’ll regret this come the morning. Your best friend would hate you if he found out, but it was all irrelevant to you right now.
Simon's pace grew more frantic, his thrusts more forceful, his hips slamming into you, the connection between you electric. “Such a good fucking girl for me.”
That praise was it all it took as you cried out, your body convulsing, your release washing over you as you came for him, your moans loud and unrestrained.
Simon groaned, his own release imminent, his thrusts more forceful, his hips slamming into you, the sound of flesh on flesh filling the room as he claimed you, the need to possess you overwhelming.
In that moment, time seemed to slow, the two of you lost in the pleasure. The aftermath of your passion leaving you both spent.
Simon pulled out before he collapsed beside you, his body slick with sweat, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.
He turned to face you, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing against your jawline, the weight of the moment heavy between you, the remnants of your pleasure still lingering.
"You alright, doll?" he asked softly, almost not wanting to break the daze.
You nodded, your breath hitching, your body still recovering from the intensity of the moment.
"Yeah." you whispered, your voice soft, your gaze locked on his. “That was....nice,” you whispered, words failing you in that moment.
"Just nice?" Simon teased, his dark eyes locked on yours, a ghost of a smile playing at the corner of his lips as he ran a hand across your skin, taking pride in the slight shakiness.
“It was amazing, shut up- You know what I mean.” you laugh a little and Simon chuckles too.
He pulls you close to him, so that your head rests on his chest, a hand soothingly playing with your hair.
You closed your eyes, the warmth of his body enveloping you, savouring the feeling of safety and security that came with it, the intimacy.
“Go and pee and then I’ll join you for a shower, doll.” he says softly as he presses a kiss to your forehead.
You reluctantly leave his arms, smiling at him as you head towards the bathroom, not even thinking about the chaos that will ensue should your best friend find out.
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still need to proofread this so i apologise for any mistakes :/
༄ cod m.list ༄ reblogs are appreciated if you like it.
© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴
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erwinsvow · 5 months
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little sad bitchy!reader moment: her and rafe are at the country club with topper and kelce and some other friends of rafe and one of the guys starts saying how she would be a horrible wife and mother (bc of the way she is) and she honestly is so hurt by it and i think she would almost try to change the way she is around rafe a little just so he wouldn’t think that about her…
sobbing thinking about it and listening to this (https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLX2Pdcv/)
hi my love this was so amazing and wonderful to write! im sorry its kinda long, hope you like it ♡
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in all honestly, you stopped caring what people said about you a long time ago. you weren't the way you were because it was funny, or to get a reaction out of others. that was just the way you've always been, and there was nothing you hated more than letting people walk all over you and get away it.
that must be why the comebacks would fly out of your mouth before you could stop them, if you even wanted to stop them. why you never stopped to think twice about the people who didn't want to talk to you again or the boys who didn't want a second date.
you weren't easy to handle, not that you wanted to be, but you knew you weren't.
it seemed easy enough for rafe though.
he never seemed to wish that you'd bite your tongue or tell you to act differently, behave a certain way. no, he'd laugh and fire back something, or agree with you and say something you remember to add to your collection of insults.
rafe liked you as you were. that's why he fought so long and hard to get you, something that you didn't take lightly. you were committed, and the more days that went by, you found yourself softening up more and more with him.
rafe knew a side of you that a select few had ever seen, much less engaged with. you liked it this way, having a boyfriend you could be yourself around and be a little soft around.
until you overhear a boy at the club talking about you. in all your years of life, you've never let a boy make you feel upset, and you didn't want to start now. a comeback brews the second he mentions your name—of course it's the idiot one, the one whose parents pay for his grades and doesn't know anything besides losing at pong and scaring away girls—but it dies in your throat when you hear the words that follow.
"i mean i get it, she's hot, but i don't know how cameron puts up with her."
"what're you talking about? she's just like him," kelce says, and you feel briefly grateful for him.
"dude, she's a bitch. i've never heard one nice thing come out of her mouth. totally untamed. you can't bring a girl like that home to your folks, they'd hate her. especially his folks. and don't even mention long-term. imagine coming home after working all day and your girl is bitching at you? i mean, no offense but what kind of kids is she gonna raise?"
you hear laughter, and when your face feels wet, and you're confused for a moment. you look up at the ceiling, wondering if there's a leak, when your eyes flood again and more tears fall down.
crying, and that too over what one of rafe's friends said about you. this isn't like you. frankly, it's pathetic. those idiotic boys don't know the first thing about you or your relationship with rafe—they don't know the conversations you have and all the things you both agree on and the way he laughs when you fire back at him.
but somehow, feet leading you outside and to your car, fingers texting rafe some excuse for why you went home early, you end up letting it affect you.
rafe comes over the next morning—he texted you something but you didn't reply. worried for a moment about something you've never been concerned with before, you think a nicer girl would have texted him back right away, that you should have texted him back.
he doesn't knock, never does. your parents aren't home but he has your spare key, letting himself in and up to your room. he stops at the doorway, leaning against the frame.
"hey. what happened last night?" he asks it like he doesn't know what happened—which is good, you want it to stay that way. the thing you would have said yesterday bubbles up, coming to your lips. maybe if you'd gotten your head out of your ass, you'd see my text.
"wasn't feeling good. came home."
"you feelin' okay now?" he gets closer to you, and you look up at your boyfriend. i'd be fine but that asshole you already hate ruined my mood. will you run him over in your truck?
"better." you stop for a moment, you don't want him to think something's wrong. "how was your night?" he looks at you a little confused.
"it was fine. borin' without you. kelce asked where you went too."
"y'know i always liked kelce," you say, smiling again. you think you can get better at this.
rafe takes you out for lunch, and then you wanted to go shopping in the afternoon and get your nails done. it's a whole day, and you like spending it with him. you swallow down what your mind usually thinks and opt for being nice instead, polite questions and trepid commentary.
the waiter brings you the wrong drink—and though you're not so much of a bitch to hurl insults at teenager servers, you're normally annoyed enough to say something and get your correct drink. instead you sip it quietly, waiting for rafe to start the conversation. when you don't, he looks at you in that confused way again.
"you okay?"
"yeah. fine. you okay?"
if he thinks something's wrong, he doesn't say anything. at the mall, nothing looks how you want and even the things you like don't feel right. you'd let rafe buy you whatever you want, normally giving him a twirl in the dressing room and thanking him very sweetly.
"you want that dress?" rafe asks, his arm resting on a rack while you comb through mindlessly.
"no, it was too short."
"that's never been an issue before." ha-ha. pervert. looking up my skirt aren't you? knew you were desperately horny for me but this is down bad even for you.
"trying to dress better. and it'll be cold soon."
"hey, look at me." rafe uses his hands on your shoulders to turn you from the clothes, facing him. "you okay baby?"
fuck, you know you messed up. he only calls you that when he's being serious—the rest of the time it's princess, angel, sweetheart. all things that you are definitely not.
"i'm okay. i just don't want it. but thank you." you don't know it, but he thinks you're upset with him, spending the next hour in the nail salon racking his mind for the reason why.
your nails are fine, they look pretty enough. shorter than normal with a clean french manicure, you admire them from a distance. you suddenly feel like crying again, wondering why you didn't get the pink acrylics you like, rhinestones and bows and all the other things that were pretty to look at when you flipped people off.
in rafe's passenger seat after, you keep staring at your hands, feeling another tear slip down. rafe's not looking at you, he's looking ahead, still unsure what was going on.
"baby, if i did something you gotta tell me, i don't like seein' you like this-" when he turns his head to glance at you, you're looking back at him with your pouty face and wet cheeks—two things he's never seen before. "hey. what's wrong?"
you couldn't stop the downpour if you tried—tears falling quick and fast. you hate that anyone's seeing you like this, especially rafe.
rafe is nice to you, and you soften up around him. you didn't really realize that he softens up around you too. he wipes your tears away, keeps a hand on yours the whole time.
"can you talk to me? what's goin' on?"
"yesterday.. one of those guys said that i was a bitch-"
"which one? to your face? when? i'll fuckin' kill him-"
"no, he didn't know i was there. it's not that, i know i am. i don't care about that. he said that-" your voice cracks, something else you hate, that you don't want rafe hearing. "sorry. he said you couldn't bring me home. and that you would hate coming home to me-me being all mean. and that our kids would be mean too."
yes, you're mean. but rafe's mean too, and none of your friends have ever said anything like that about him. you like that he's mean, that he's like you—you think he's the closest thing to a soulmate you could ever find.
"don't fuckin' listen to any of them for a second, got it? they don't know anything."
"rafe, i-"
"no, seriously. they yap because i wasn't there to knock him out. and he says it when you're gone 'cause he knows you'd make him cry if you were there." you sniffle, though you already feel better.
"but i didn't. i started crying instead." you hate even thinking about it.
"s'okay, it happens. but don't believe a word of that shit. i wanna come home to you everyday. hear everything you say. i want all of it."
"really?" you ask him, wiping away your tears, appreciating the hand on your thigh and how sincerely he's looking at you. "i thought you'd be mean if i cried in front of you."
"it's hard enough to be mean to you."
"you're such a sap. should we go get ice cream and braid each others hair after this?" he laughs, and you laugh. "thanks rafey."
"no problem, kid."
"don't call me that." rafe groans, and you smile.
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itsbenedict · 11 days
Text
so in an effort to be slightly less out-of-touch, i went and watched all of Skibidi Toilet the other day. (at present, the whole series is about the length of a feature film, so this wasn't too big a lift.)
what surprised me is just... how totally normal it was. like, it's not at all difficult to describe. people big it up as this incomprehensible thing that's emblematic of a generation gap, but it's. not.
the plot is: there's toilets with human heads in them that go "skibidi dom dom dom yes yes, skibidi dabbadul neef neef". they can move despite a lack of ambulatory appendages. this is wacky and unsettling, but the chief question is: Do They Win In A Fight Against Some Robots With Cameras For Heads?
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it's an action movie about a war against an alien invasion. that's it. less than the first thirty seconds of it are anarchic GMod YTP insanity- it develops a plot almost immediately. the plot is paper-thin and conveyed almost entirely without dialogue, existing to set up giant robot fights and zombie apocalypse jumpscares.
who are these factions? why are they fighting? you aren't failing to get it because the kids these days are on some totally different psychic wavelength. the show simply does not give a shit about this question. here are some bad guys! here are some good guys! they're going to do explosions and punches at each other for roughly two minutes until the perspective camera is abruptly destroyed in the crossfire somehow.
it is a remarkably competently-shot action movie. the fight scenes are weighty and satisfying and have lots of exciting little twists and turns as the two sides pull increasingly bigger weapons and gadgets out of their asses. the production gets more elaborate over time, and it's a pretty stellar example of what machinima is capable of. genuinely good at the things it's trying to do.
it does kinda fall down a little later, as it attempts to develop Characters and Deepest Lore after kind of not caring about that for most of its runtime. the decision to have "dialogue" almost exclusively in the form of incomprehensible heavily-filtered backwards speech with no subtitles is probably rewarding for die-hard Skibidi-heads who have the time on their hands to mess with the audio and uncover all the hidden messages, but it means you are not going to understand anything anyone is saying on a normal watch.
the action suffers from this decision a little bit towards the end, as for reasons that completely fail to come across, the toilets appear to have broken into their own factions and start fighting each other and forming various alliances, which disrupts the simplicity of the setup and makes it hard to determine who's winning a fight at any given time. a giant scary toilet man just exploded! was that bad, or good? listen, don't worry about it. all you need to know is that these things are going to keep happening until DaFuqBoom gets bored.
it's like a... 7/10, shallow but enjoyable. easy to see why kids like it. not going to give you any deeper insights into the Kids These Days, but there's worse ways to spend a couple hours.
(the most confusing thing to me is how something this straightforward got a reputation for crossing some sort of rubicon of cultural alienation. did everyone born in the 20th century who talks about this show just watch eighteen seconds of it and give up???)
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interloved · 6 months
Text
nerdy!anakin skywalker who’s secretly a freak
requested by poll!
description box; the nerd with the glasses that tutors you turns out to be not so innocent after all. and he looks even more delicious without his glasses.
warning; heavy nsfw warning, mentions of cheating and an affair, porn with a bit of plot, anakin is a total pervert and freakyyyy, smut under the cut!, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
ANAKIN SKYWALKER IS A nerd, and it’s by default that he doesn’t associate with ‘your kind’.
the popular kind, the pretty kind.
the ones that run around with the football players, the kind of people that have this certain aura that just makes everyone look at them the second they walk into the room.
most of the popular people at your school were known to be arrogant douchebags, unintelligent jerks and vain bitches who thought they were above everyone else. but not you, though.
you were different. you were popular, really uniquely and breathtakingly beautiful, but your heart and soul were just as pretty as you. you also had a jerk of a boyfriend, and you really sucked at mathematics and physics. but luckily for you, your desk mate anakin skywalker, who also happens to sit next to you in physics classes, knows that. and also happens to be a very valued tutor.
“another D?”
anakin’s gaze is deplorable, his lips are pressed together in a pitiful way.
“yeah,” you wince as you examine the big, red D on your paper, “can’t say i didn’t expect it though. i thought the questions were really easy—maybe that should’ve given it away.”
anakin is hesitant, he doesn’t want to upset you—he knows you’ve been called stupid and dumb plenty of times by teachers, but really, he knows you’re not. really, you excel at subjects like history, english or music, you just… need a little tutoring. but he also knows you’re too prideful for that. you’ve never been bad enough at a subject to need tutoring, but you’ve been consistently getting D’s the whole year and there’s nothing anakin can do.
he would’ve let you copy his answers, but the teachers never look away during exams. he wouldn’t have done for just anyone—he would’ve only done it for you.
you’re the kindest person he’s ever met. you probably don’t remember but about four years ago, maybe a little more, he was getting bullied really bad. and not just by anyone, a guy named dylan. he was your boyfriend at the time. and still is. fucking asshole. anakin hated him passionately.
but you’d broken up with him after you’d caught him throwing punches into anakin’s stomach. you had yelled at him, even slapped him, you had taken anakin by the hand and went to the school nurse with him. and you were so kind to him. so sweet. so nice.
honestly, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when he developed a huge crush on you. but he never confessed, he knew you were out of his league, and not his. especially after your (shitty asshole! anakin would treat you so much better) boyfriend dylan had apologised to him and you in a heartbreaking manner through a big gesture, and you had forgiven him.
ever since, dylan and anakin still give each other dirty glances and nasty glares, but he never laid hand on him again.
anakin would like to describe you and him as friends. you talked to each other in every class you had together, especially physics, because you sat next to each other, and you always greeted each other in the hallways.
but you guys have never hung out together and you’ve never been to his place, or he to yours.
“listen, maybe you… maybe i can study with you.” anakin muttered gently, carefully studying your face expressions as he made his suggestion.
your eyebrows formed into a frown, “you think that’ll help?”
anakin nodded, relieved you weren’t taking this as badly as he’d thought you would, “yeah, sure. i’m a tutor, you know? i can explain stuff pretty well.”
“oh, i wouldn’t want to impose—” you’re quick to deny, you hate bothering people.
fuck, you’re the sweetest person there is. truly an angel sent down from heaven. anakin made up his mind, right there. he would do anything to make you his.
“no, you’re not imposing. i want to. i want to do this for you.” he smiled, but seeing your hesitant face, he added, “besides, we’re friends. isn’t that what friends do for each other?”
a small smile tugged at your lips. “really? you… you’d do that for me? but i really don’t want to be a bother! you’re so smart and clever, you probably have so many tutees and you’re probably so busy—”
anakin would be replaying those words in his mind tonight. non-stop.
“listen, i really don’t mind. it’ll be like us hanging out. ‘kay? you don’t need to worry about it, i’m happy to be at your service.”
you hesitated for a second. and then you smiled, and anakin knew he’d won. “OK, then. it’ll be like a hangout.”
“it’s settled then,” he smirked at you, “my place? tomorrow afternoon?”
you laugh.
“your place, tomorrow afternoon.”
YOU HAD ABSOLUTELY NO idea how you ended up like this. in his bed. in this position. moaning and whimpering his name.
you were on all fours, legs trembling and quivering, your arms weak and the only thing that was holding you up was anakin’s toned arm, hooked under your waist, holding you up firmly as he thrusted into you.
you had never noticed it before, but his arm… looked so… delicious when it was flexed.
“that feel good, darling?” the smirk in his voice is all too evident, he got off on the way you were so fucking responsive to his every touch.
his hands went from caressing your thighs and kneading your ass to playing with your nipples and tugging back your hair.
“haven’t even begun properly fucking you and you’re already so soaked. does your boyfriend not fuck you, darling?”
your mind is nothing but chaos, and your stomach all fuzzy, and the only thing you can do is whine around his cock, writhing underneath him. you nod, you just nod because your boyfriend’s cock doesn’t kiss your cervix like this, your boyfriend’s cock doesn’t fit into your womb so fucking well, because your boyfriend doesn’t make you feel so, so, so good.
“n-need you to go faster…”
he kisses his teeth with his one, making a quiet ‘tsk’ sound. “that’s not very polite, demanding others like that. what’s happened to your manners, angel?”
he’s fucking you agonisingly and painfully slowly from behind, the question papers he brought and physics notes he made for you, just for you, carelessly scattered in front of you. your hands are gripping them as you moan.
“f-fuck, ani—please just… won’t fuck me faster? can’t… can’t, ‘m not—hah—”
“all right, all right, doll,” he replies to you sweetly, bending over next to your ear, still thrusting into so painfully slowly, “only if you admit that you love me more than your boyfriend.”
your eyes widen. “b-but—”
“ah-ah. no buts. say it or i won’t let you cum.”
you loved your boyfriend. you did! but anakin just made you feel so, so good…
“love you more than my boyfriend,” you moan quietly, closing your eyes in shame.
“‘m sorry, what? i didn’t catch that.” he grinned teasingly.
“ani,” you whine, “don’t be like that.”
he laughs. “all right, all right. cum for me, doll.”
author’s note;
i have never written smut like this before. please have mercy on me 😭😭
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blublublujk · 10 months
Text
good girl, gone bad
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oneshot
word count: 6k
genre: established (secret) relationship
pairing: good girl y/n x bad boy jk
summary:
“I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.” You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.” What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?
warnings: basically just pwp but plot went missing (oops!), swearing, smoker jk (i swear if anyone complains in my inbox i'll haunt you), explicit sexual content; jk has a huge dick ok, consensual recording/pictures, car sex (don't fuck in a car), hickeys, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, spanking, squirting, breast play, blowjob, fingering, cunnilingus, come shot (on face), slut shaming (again lol), come tasting/swallowing, stomach bulge (my fault i love this one), choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie
a.n: sorry for a late update hope yall dont mind, but i just wanna get rid of all my drafts they are PILING. lol forgive me for only always writing about jungkook, but he's so easy to write about. he breathes, and i instantly open my notes app (im not even joking). this has been sitting in my drafts since his LA trip (iykyk) it sparked a conversation and i wrote it. i want that man bad... and im lesbian :D
ANYWAYS enjoy and STREAM GOLDEN for our golden bunny <3
p.s: i'll probably come back to this couple but its a oneshot for now... but wouldn't no nut nov be fun with this jk?? everyone say yesss. ok bye.
—> m.list
—> welcome me on ao3 & twt
—-
“Ugh, what a piece of shit.”
Before you even get to ask who, the motorcycle roars back to life across the parking structure belonging to the very one and only, Jeon Jungkook. A group of college jocks crowd around the man. There’s a cigarette between his fingers, he’s not paying it much attention though. He's deep in conversation, laughing at something one of them said, clearly more invested in the joke than anything else around him. 
As the laughter dies down, he looks over, eyes connecting while he brings the cigarette to his pierced lip, slowly inhaling the toxic fume. The terribly annoying (yet somehow sexy) tattooed jock on his loud motorcycle winks towards your direction, before selfishly exhaling that poisonous smoke into the air. Fuck, you really, really wanted to hate him too. 
“Yuck.” Karina gags with a scrunch to her nose, turning a cold back to them and you’re grateful to her because you almost get stuck in his lustful gaze. 
“Yeah… yuck.” You reply with no real meaning somehow managing to convince her you meant it.
“I hate him and his stupid friends. They are killing the Earth slowly and they don’t even give a fuck!” Karina argues in all her given glory and in her environmental science major mindset. “Plus those cancer sticks reek, why must the general public suffer because they can’t last thirty without them.”
Jungkook could last thirty without them. Way more than thirty when you were around him, especially when he was given something (or someone) to entertain himself with, but you couldn't say that aloud so the sudden thoughts stayed safe and sound in your head. 
“No, no they don’t. But what can we do?” There’s a sigh and then you clear your throat. “Should we get going now?”
Your arm wraps around hers, gesturing the way back to campus with a swift wave where you both had been meaning to study given that classes finally started cramping in heavy assignments.
“Yes, please.” Karina is quick to sharply turn her heel and walk back towards the building. “I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.”
You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.”
What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?
—-
“You taste disgusting.” There’s a muffled laugh pressed into your lips, as your tongues meet halfway, meeting each other’s lips in a bruising wet kiss. Your ass grinds roughly against his lap, groaning into your mouth while you bring your ass flush down, feeling his soft cock harden below you. His right hand grips your right ass cheek, jiggling it in his hand, before smacking it (with love, of course!). 
“Yeah?” Jungkook smirks, bringing his mouth against your throat, sucking and licking everywhere there was space. He sneakily leaves little love bites behind even though he knows you’ll kill him for this later because you have somewhere to be after this. He even bites your ear lobe gently between his teeth, before he cockily whispers. “You love it though.”
The whimper that leaves your mouth should be illegal. It only drives Jungkook crazier. 
Both hands find purchase on your ass now, spanking you once again in each cheek. Though Jungkook was a bit disappointed he wasn’t seeing your flushed bare cheeks on top of him, but he guesses he can settle for now. “You gonna let me fuck you now baby?”
He gropes your asscheeks without any hesitation, still leaving wet kisses buzzing onto your skin, stealing a quick kiss from your raw-bitten lips. 
“Mm, only if you ask nicely.” You tease, dragging a finger along his jawline.
With this, Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. Your hand comes to fist his hair, while he drops another wet smooch onto your lips. “You know I’d do anything for a piece of this ass angel.”
You smile into the kiss, grinding harder against his now– hard cock. You felt your folds leak of your own arousal. It was so undeniable. The attraction between you two, the desire to take each other apart, to be within each other’s arms. There was no place like Jungkook’s lap. Here you could stay forever.
“Imagine what people would say if they saw you like this baby.” Jungkook starts teasing, tugging your shirt off with no trouble. Your breasts catch his attention, noticing that you are wearing that black lingerie set he had bought for you last Valentine’s Day. “Fuck. Look at you baby.”
He squishes your breasts together, leaning up to kiss the uncovered tender flesh on both sides. You don’t even attempt to hold your moans back. “I– nghhh.”
“Did you expect to get fucked today princess? Hmm? Is this all for me?” Jungkook’s words work like magic, they drip off his sinful tongue like honey. You bring your body flush against his, burying your blushing face against his neck. “Don’t get shy on me baby, tell me. Did you wear this all for me?”
He purrs sweetly and you only nod, cheeks burning red. 
It's not like you were embarrassed of him, no in fact, you were happy to announce that the college campus’ certified bad boy is all yours and has been for the past two years. 
There was no exact moment to this, the attraction had always been there. 
You had first officially met Jungkook in one of your general ed classes. Statistics, to be exact, which he would have one-hundred percent failed had it not been for you passing him the answers mid exams. It wasn’t like that to begin with of course, it took you some convincing. To be fair and to your excuse, it was so hard to say no to those beautiful big brown eyes.
At first, you assumed he was doing this all, acting lost and playing dumb, to get into your pants which he succeeded. However you had enough dignity left to make him work for it. Until you realized those secret smiles, stolen glances, and subtle hand holds were much more than just a silly game. You had fallen for his charm, and against everyone’s advice to stay far away from him, you fell in love with the (not so terrible) bad boy and let him take over your heart completely. It happened so randomly and so all at once. It was confusing, new, but most of all, liberating. 
Being with Jungkook was so freeing and the thrill of being caught with him was so worth it. It didn’t matter what people thought of you or him, you both were willing to die on this hill of love. 
Jungkook, too, had fallen quickly. How could he not? There was nothing to dislike and everything to love. Your pouty scolds, he looked forward to. The stolen glances across campus were his favorite, a secret only you and him held close to heart. There were times where your cheeks would flush pink, because he would steal kisses from you behind the campus library. You were seriously his favorite person ever. 
“Jungkook stop! What if someone sees us?” You would whisper-shout, a pout would form against your will. 
Jungkook would just kiss your worries away again and again and then say. “You’re the cutest little thing alive baby.” 
“Are you trying to change the subject?” It was hard to speak between kisses, that and the fact that he would squish your cheeks together like the adorable boyfriend he was. 
“I don’t know. Is it working?” His reply was cheeky and lips would start trailing down your neck and then you determined, yes. Yes, it is working. Fuck it all. 
It’s safe to say, he was yours since the start of it all, as you were his. Wrapped in each other’s fingers before anyone had realized it, now you were inseparable. 
“Answer me princess.” Jungkook pulls you back gently, observing your flushed face. “God, you’re so beautiful.”
Of course, this only makes you blush harder, but you do manage to admit. “Y-Yes… I wore this only for you. Always for you.”
Jungkook smiles, pecking your cheek. “Then I’m the luckiest man alive angel.”
He cradles your face, before leaning in to kiss you. This time, you guys take your time. Your mouths stay closed, taking the time to really feel the plushy feeling against your own and enjoy each other’s presence. You felt as if you were floating in clouds. 
“Jungkook.” You mumble onto his lips and he hums, but that’s not enough so you call his name once more with intent. “Jungkook.”
He pulls back with a questioning look. “Yes, my love?”
“Can you please just fuck me already?” The words come out barely above a whisper, even after fucking you so many times, you could be so shy at times.
Jungkook breaks out into a bunny-like grin, holding back a stifled laugh. “So much for wanting to make me say please, look at who’s pleading now.” 
“J-Jungkook…” Your face goes hot again and he laughs once more, patting your ass softly.
“Okay. Okay, my love. Enough teasing, I’ll fuck you since you asked so nicely baby.” Jungkook takes his sweet time taking off his own shirt, and pulling your skirt off. It was a bit tricker, given you were both in your car which was not fit for two people even in the backseat, but you guys always made it work. 
You were still scared to ride to campus with him as much as he begged you to because it would blow your secret relationship, but fucking on campus has yet to be off-limits. Mainly because Jungkook fucks you all too well, and you aren’t one to say no to good dick (oops).
He attaches his mouth right above the bare skin of your left breast. He holds your tits in his hands, pushing them together, stuffing his face right between them. Jungkook makes sure to pay attention to both breasts (it’s only fair), rubbing your hard buds through the black lace which hardly covers them. You bite back a moan, feeling him rut up against your heat, his hard length pressing stiffly against you, your walls already clenching, desperate to feel him inside you.
His tattooed hand slips below, releasing the nipple he had been tugging on earlier. You feel the tip of his fingertips brush against your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby. I can’t wait to be inside you.”
Surely by now, you were dripping onto the lace. His erection is still pressing against your inner thigh. “D-Don’t wait then.”
Your boyfriend smiles, bringing his lips to yours. “Behave. You’ll get some dick inside you soon.”
Like the brat you were, your eyes rolled back so used to being spoiled. He pays it no mind though because his tongue comes out again, licking your lips apart. Your tongues meet once more, this time you suck his tongue into your mouth, brushing it against the roof of your mouth. He taste quite bitter, it’s the cigarette from earlier, yet somehow and against all judgement, he tastes fucking delicious. Especially when a grunt slips from his throat, feeling you roll your barely covered folds against his fingers.
He allows this, putting more pressure with two fingers, feeling you drench his fingertips even through your panties. Jungkook pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth, spit mixing as he reciprocates the favor, sucking gently on your tongue. You tasted like the strawberries you had earlier for lunch and Jungkook groans, greedily swallowing the taste in your mouth. 
What an innocent sweet little thing you were and he was about to ruin you all. 
Cigarettes and strawberries. 
Quite the pair. 
You whine into his mouth, unable to hold back much longer. “Please, Jungkook…”
He smirks against your mouth. How much he loved the way you fell apart on his cock. Especially more, when he had barely had his hands on you and you were already begging for more. Jungkook pulls back, but not before you whine a soft “no.” He holds your cheeks in his palms, forcing you to look directly into his hazy eyes. 
“Imagine if people knew baby.” His voice comes out more sultry, rough around the edges. His thumb carrasses your cheek, patting your mouth open. “How much of a slut you were for this dick.”
His words make you mewl (he knows how much you get off to this thought), he slowly eases two fingers into your mouth, holding your chin in place. You made sure to suck on them as he liked, your tongue coming flat against them. 
Jungkook bucks his hips into yours, chest rising while he watches you suck, like the good girl you were. “Imagine if they really knew, baby? Such a sweet girl like you, with someone so dangerous and reckless like me. What would they say? Hmm?”
He pulls out his fingers, seeing them barely glisten under the light.
“I- I don’t know.” Your voice is dry and soft yet, you are incredibly horny.
“You don’t know? I have a few ideas.” Jungkook chuckles, hands brushing along your back. “Can this come off?” 
He tugs your bra from behind and you hesitate to nod permission. “Good, I wanna watch them bounce when I finally fuck you.”
By now, you have given up resisting him, so you moan pathetically as he shreds your bra with ease and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking the tender bud into his tongue, flicking it and placing it between his teeth. He tugs and licks the sting away, watching with hooded eyes as you squirm against him. Your face burns imagining the idea. 
What if people knew? How would your friends react? They would surely be disappointed, Jungkook was good for nothing but trouble. Yet, he was perfect to you. You were willing to defend him from hell and back. Whatever it took for them to believe you. 
Jungkook moves to the other bud, placing it into his mouth, cupping and gripping your breasts. His mouth was hot and heavy against your nipple, his tongue caressing the hard bud. He squeezes them one last time before letting them drop, watching them bounce gently against your chest. Yup, Jungkook was the luckiest man alive. There was nothing better than this moment right here.
Heat travels your body quickly, feeling your own chest rise, struggling to breathe in the steamy car. Your boyfriend looks down, communicating with his eyes instead of actually saying anything, your hands quickly move to his belt, tugging them off and throwing it anywhere else. Desperately, you unbuckle his jeans, harshly pulling his boxer down, just enough to watch his dick spring out. The flushed, wet length smacks against his stomach, watching as his abs clench at the sensation. If you stare any longer, you’ll start drooling. “So good for me angel.” 
There’s no time to waste. 
“Wanna suck you off.” You breathe out, voice filled with desire and lust, clearly it takes over because usually his girlfriend was much shyer and timid, but that all disappeared when Jungkook’s cock was present. 
“Yeah?” Jungkook watches you drop on your knees, your pretty knees will for sure suffer the consequences of your horny choice, but there was no stopping this. He pats his thighs as he leans back to give you enough space. “I’m all yours, baby girl.”
Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek when he feels your warm mouth wrap around his dick. Your tongue comes out messily, practically salivating and dripping all over him. There’s probably not a single day that goes by that you aren’t sucking his dick, but it was quite the experience every damn time. 
“F-Fuck, I wish you could see yourself.” He struggles a bit because the sight is fucking sinful and if people knew you like he did, they wouldn’t believe the person in front of him. 
His personal little cockslut. 
You pop off for a second, hand still wrapped around his length covered in your spit. “Yeah? Then take a picture for me, Kook.”
Double fuck.
When you first started dating Jungkook, you were against any pictures at all. After time passed and to his luck, you came around and you would let him take pictures, but only if he promised your face wasn’t in the frame. Now, his camera roll is covered with images of you and your blooming relationship. You didn’t care anymore about covering or blurring your face out. His camera roll consisted of just about everything, pictures of you sleeping peacefully against his chest as you would nap, videos of you laughing on the random adventures he would take you on, but never images of you nude. Never ever was he allowed anything that could probably incriminate you both, even if he would beg, ever-so sweetly. It seems like you came around after all. Bless you.
“Fuck, don’t talk to me like that princess, you have no idea what that does to me.” He’s never heard you sound so fucking sexy. Jungkook bites his lip, recovering his phone that had dropped earlier on the carpet. “You sure about this baby?”
“Yes.” Then you are back on his cock and he shudders, already snapping a few pictures. Your eyes looked up at the camera, making a show out of it all.
Jungkook tries controlling his heavy breathing but with a sinful tongue like yours, it’s impossible. “Can I record this princess, only if you’ll let me, of course.”
You take him deeper into your throat and nod furiously on his cock. You trusted him enough, you knew Jungkook could never hurt a single soul, unless they tried him. Point is, he would never do anything to break that trust so hell yeah, why not add more to his long collection.
“God, you are so perfect baby. Made for me and only me.” Jungkook’s voice is nothing short of possessiveness. He presses record, caressing your hair softly, almost petting you for your work like the good girl you were for him. “Imagine if they knew how well you take cock baby. How perfect those plump lips look around my dick. You’re like a dream come true princess, my personal cockslut.” 
You moan around his length, loving the bitter taste on your tongue and Jungkook has to hold back from fucking your throat, though he thinks you’ll love it anyways. 
“Can I fuck your throat?” His voice is raspy and you open your mouth wider, nodding so prettily with dick stuffed in your mouth. Jungkook is careful when placing your hair in a little makeshift ponytail for the meantime and as best as he can with one hand as he starts to thrust into your warm mouth. “So beautiful and all mine. Isn’t that right princess?”
You don’t get to reply, but the vibrations of your moans that manage to run through his cock  answer for you and it almost makes him smile. What a good girl you were. Pretty things like you deserved to be spoiled and he couldn’t wait to give you the fucking world. 
And was he fucking loving the show you were putting on for him becoming more needy and desperate on camera, your eyes rolled as he brutally used your throat for his liking. 
Jungkook bites at his bottom lip as he begins to roll his hips with much more force, feeling your throat take him down with greed. “Fuck baby, your throat feels amazing. Taking me so good.” 
He lets you go when he feels you tap his thigh and you gasp for air, tears threatening to leak down your face. “W-Want you to come on my face.”
Your voice is hoarse and his eyes widen at your sweet request. 
“Aren’t you just perfect for me today baby. Just you wait, you’ll get the best dick of your entire lifetime.” Not that you would know since he was your first and he knows that, proudly carries that in his cocky ego, but you always believed him. No one could fuck you better than this, you were sure. You bat your eyes at his promise and he comes down to kiss you messily, the camera records jackshit, but it captures your whiny moans and the sound of your lips smacking against one another. He pulls off with one last kiss and adjusts the camera frame back towards you as he takes his hard length and slaps his swollen, wet dick along your cheek. “Open up princess, I’m really fucking close.” 
You take him in with no hesitation and go to fucking work. Slurping and licking all over his length, your chin dripping with saliva, but you don’t even care anymore because his grunts and whines keep you going. 
Every now and then you look up at the camera making sure you do your best to keep him coming back. You know he will probably rewatch this every night that you aren’t there with him. And your predictions are correct because Jungkook’s already planning on watching this tonight and jacking off to it while you are out with Karina doing God knows what. All he knows is his sweet girl will be doing something productive while he’ll be coming undone in your gracious honor.
“I’m close baby.” He groans sexily, and his breathing starts to become sharp. “Look up baby, right into the camera, gonna come all over that perfect fucking face.”
Doing as he says, you look up sucking him dry, your hands come to relieve what you can’t cover with your tongue. His hand pushes you off for a second. “Tongue out baby.”
He fucks his fist and it doesn’t take long before he squirts his load all over your face, grateful that most of it lands on your tongue, you swallow it all immediately, humming gracefully at the salty taste. 
Jungkook’s eyes are blown out as he catches his breath and lets his dick flop back down against his thigh, you look like a fucking sin and he must be the Devil because he’s about to commit about thirty tonight. “Give me a second princess.”
He says between breaths as he stops recording with one last picture of your come-soiled face, still breathing heavily as he throws his phone on the floor again, thankful that he has something for later. You giggle against him and he almost awes as you throw your head against his bare thighs into a laughing fit. “Okay.” 
He huffs a dry laugh and pulls you up. “Times up. Come here.” 
Jungkook is quick to capture you in a sloppy kiss, not minding the leftover mess of come on your face, he doesn’t wanna mess up his masterpiece just yet. You soon grow desperate in his arms, but this time he doesn’t mess around. 
“Lay down.” Your bare back lands on the seats and he shoves himself between your thighs. Again, it’s steamy and fucking cramped in your car, but you both couldn’t care any less right now. 
His tongue hits your slit not bothering to move your matching panties, but the effect is almost the same. He licks a long strip watching you soil the silky lace mixing his spit with your own arousal. 
You moan sweetly as your legs come apart letting him completely devour your heat. Jungkook pulls off, tugging your spoiled little black panties to the side and continues on with his mission. His tongue finds your clit and you swear you could come like this. 
“R-Right there. Please.” Your boyfriend doesn’t let up either, eating your sweet pussy like it deserves. His tongue flicks your bud, building the sensation in your tummy. Jungkook sucks on your clit selfishly.
His chin is covered in your arousal. He’s humming and moaning deep inside your pussy, your juices stick onto his tongue like candy and he greedily swallows the treat whole. 
“B-Baby.” Your voice is struggling like his was earlier, but it’s there. He lifts his face from your heat, eyes in a lust-filled trance. Jungkook knows he’s pussy-whipped, but at least he admits his problems!
“Yes, my baby.” Jungkook’s eyes are blown out and he looks just as wrecked as you are. 
“C-Can I take a picture?” He almost gapes at your request, the amount of times you took him by surprise today. At this point, he would let you do anything, fuck his morality!  
“Do whatever you want princess. Pictures, videos. I’m all yours.” He gives you his full consent and permission to do anything so you are quick to grab his phone (you’ll send them over to yourself later) and start snapping pictures while he dives back in for seconds. 
Jungkook keeps your legs open while you are a whimpering mess above him, struggling to get the best picture. You have no idea how he was doing this himself, the pictures come out blurry as he continues to devour you as if it was his last meal.
He also puts on a show for the camera like you did so nicely earlier for him. Jungkoook’s eyes hood as he stares up, he even winks for the shot. If college didn’t ever work out for either of you, this would be something to look into. Good thing that was not the case, at least for you, his little straight A student. 
“I’m g-gonna come.” This only makes your boyfriend go crazier between your folds. He drops eye-contact with the camera and instead solely focuses on that pretty pussy presented for him. Jungkook’s tongue is sin itself, not letting up once as more arousal drips out of you. He slowly teases a finger inside, building your orgasm quickly as he fucks you open with his middle finger. “I’m– nghh. Fuh-fuck!”
The sentence is never finished as you start to squirt onto his tongue, creating your own little masterpiece on his face. Jungkook has never swallowed anything down faster than right now and he’s loving every second of it. Completely pussy-whipped and all, but at least he’s happy!
Your boyfriend finally detaches himself from your heat and the sight is nearly adorable. His hair is now all fucked up and he’s a sticky mess everywhere (you are sure you look no better). 
“Yum, I could do that all day.” Jungkook shamelessly says. 
“Mm, I’m sure.” You say coming down from your own orgasm, he gives you a few seconds to breathe as you set his phone down again. Jungkook takes his shirt from the floor and wipes himself clean. He does the same but it’s no use, the come that landed on your face has dried up and he doesn’t wanna scrub it off and end up hurting your precious face. 
Jungkook kisses your cheek affectionately as an apology. 
“There’s dry come on my face right?” You start to scold him, but he smiles with all his teeth apologetically and you forgive him at that moment. 
“Guilty.” He smirks, proud of his work, he thinks you truly haven't looked better. 
Wrapping arms and legs around your boyfriend you whisper innocently. “I was promised dick of a lifetime, unless… unless you lied to me?”
Jungkook scrunches his nose cutely while he looks at your perfect pouty face, doe-eyes begging to be fucked. “I never lie, not to you at least.”
He makes you laugh and he detangles your legs from his waist. “Now let me focus, I have a reputation to uphold.”
There’s no laughing once two fingers press into you and you gasp at the invading feeling, but the stretch only burns for a while before it turns into pleasure and you are whimpering at his touch. “Fingers so deep.”
He smiles and you throw your head back. “Yeah? My dick goes even deeper baby, I’m just making sure you can take it.”
“I can take it.” You breathe out against his pink lips. “I was made for you.”
The taller’s eyes nearly eat you alive, fuck you were so sexy. “That you were baby. My perfect little cockslut.” 
His fingers pull out of you brutally and you whine, but he kisses you roughly making you forget the loss. A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing it with purpose. You squirm in his hands and he pops off your lips. 
Fingers coated with your arousal trace your lips and you take them in greedily, sucking your own juices off the tattooed fingers, moaning at the delicate taste, his other hand still locked around your throat. 
“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” You nod around his fingers and he finally lets go, gasping for fresh air. “‘M gonna fuck you now baby.” 
Your legs fly open in response, letting him have his way with you. 
“Do me a favor?” He asks while taking his hard length in his hand, jerking himself off while he awaits your response. 
“What?” You hum, confusion written all over your face. 
“Record this for me. I want you to see how I break you apart. How this pretty pussy makes a mess all over my dick. I want you to remember this fuck for the rest of your life.” His voice drops a few octaves and you can’t help but gasp and moan at his vulgar use of words. 
You used to be innocent, at least, that’s what Jungkook used to think. In a way, he thinks you still are. Untouched and pure, only for his eyes and his hands to touch. Jungkook is honored that he was your first, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He was gentle and took care of you every step of the way. It was like that until you were begging and pleading for more. Sweet then, and sweet now.
He’s created a little monster, but he knows that your heart is pure and that’s what he loves most about you. 
“Okay, yes.” His phone is back in your hands and you click record, watching him line-up his cock. Jungkook groans as he disappears snuggly inside you. “Mmm.”
He lets you get used to the feeling and once he feels your breathing stabilize he starts to thrust himself with strong strokes inside you. 
Like the first time, you are struggling with the phone because you can’t stop shivering and shaking, you feel him in your guts and recording is much harder than pictures because it lasts longer and you can't stay still for that long. Not with dick inside you.
“K-Kook. I— oh.” You stop to moan when he hits your g-spot and he continues ramming that same spot over and over. “I- I can’t. Hand’s shaking.”
Your sweet boyfriend grabs the phone and lets you settle yourself. “That’s okay princess, I got you. Just lay there, I’ll take care of you.” 
He records himself ramming into you for a few minutes, watching himself disappear into you on camera. The taller one can't even believe this is his reality. How did this even happen and most of all with him of all people? He truly was the luckiest man alive! 
“‘S deep, Kook.” He fondles one of your breasts as he keeps a harsh pace, rubbing the hard nub with his thumb. 
“Yeah baby? Tell me where you feel it.” He whispers loving the way you tremble, your gaze struggling to keep up with his. 
“Right here.” You touch right below your belly, palm flat against the feeling of his cock inside you. “So so deep.” 
You mumble something else, but he doesn’t get to hear it because your high pitched moans drown everything out. He lets go of your breast watching them bounce as he continues to pound straight into your sweet spot. 
The camera catches it all though. The mess between your thighs look just as delicious on film as they do in real time. The sounds you make, the squelching noise that is being created by his cock going deep inside you, and most of all, it captures your beautiful face as it comes apart. 
He presses on your stomach right where your own palm rests and you strangle out a whine. “I- I can’t. T-Too much.” 
“You can take it. Remember?” His dick tears through you from the inside and you start yelling when he increases his pace. He’s fucking you mercilessly now and you can’t control the sounds that escape. “You were made for me, princess.”
“Yes, yes, I am.” You sound beautiful, but you would kill him if you guys got caught now especially in the position you guys are in. 
His firm hand finally comes off your stomach and instead two fingers go inside your mouth, muffling your screams and whines. 
The car rocks back and forth. He’s sure people know what the fuck is going on, the windows are foggy as fuck, for fuck’s sake, but you would hate him much worse for not finishing you off.
“Mmff, don— stopff.” He nearly giggles as you struggle to speak, but he keeps his promise quite well. He fucks you ever harder and deeper, his cock will surely fall off after this, but it’s all worth it. He slams inside, bottoming out fully before pulling out and repeating the same steps. “Fuhh-uk.”
“You like that baby?” Jungkook rasps feeling you squeeze tightly around him, which only means one thing, you are really fucking close. “Gonna come all over my cock princess?” 
“Mmff.” You are quick to nod and hum sweetly. He decides to pull his fingers out, spit dripping all over. “Yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Harder Kook- ah!”
Jungkook almost forgets he’s recording and he centers the camera again, wanting to capture every last second of this. You are glistening all over, he’s made a complete mess of you, but he is no better. Jungkook is dripping sweat and yet, that doesn’t stop his mean and precise strokes against your velvet walls, stretching you in ways you didn’t even know were possible. 
The final straw is when you feel his messy fingers start toying with your clit and you are coming once again all over your back seats and wetting his cock just how he likes it. Being a squirter had its own perks with a boyfriend like Jungkook because that meant he never stopped fucking you until you completely had nothing more to give. 
Jungkook curses when he starts to see your orgasm trinkle out, he fucks you all through it though, feeling the water-like pressure against his slit. And it doesn’t take long before an orgasm catches up to him. 
“Inside.” You plead with a pout, eyes completely blown out. 
With one last curse Jungkook comes deep inside your walls. He catches his breath for a few moments before pulling out slowly, making sure to capture the dribble of his come which sadly hangs onto your hole. “Push it out for me princess.” 
“Nooo, we’re gonna make a mess Kook.” Jungkook shakes his head, a smile on his face because a mess has already been made. 
“I’ll clean it. Now, push it out baby.” You almost cover your face because you are sure you turned red, but you start to push his seed out of your hole and he’s tempted to fuck it back inside. 
“Fuck. That’s it baby. Perfect comeslut. Isn’t that right?” He stops recording once he’s gotten the shot he wanted and he starts to wipe you down with his shirt, lucky enough that he has a back-up hoodie to cover him after he’s done. 
“Yes, all yours.” 
You both smile against each other’s lips before he whispers. “I love you princess.” 
“I love you more.” 
“Impossible baby.”
—-
JK❤️: hiiii 🙂
me: hi baby :) everything okay?
JK❤️: marvelous 😇 i just came watching that video we took earlier ;))
me: baby! 😠  i'm out with karina! can you not talk about sex for two seconds while im out
JK❤️: sure! just came all over myself totally wasn't watching our sextape back ;)))
me: nice talk jungkook.
JK❤️: come home soon~~ i miss you :((((
me: love you too lol
JK❤️: not more than me. come home soon im serious!!!
me: i'll see you later jungkook. ❤️
JK❤️: 😠😠😠 
me: ❤️❤️❤️
3K notes · View notes
gallavichsreddie1128 · 6 months
Text
Older (Dean Winchester)
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Description: Y/N has a crush on Dean but they have a 20 year age gap. How does Dean react when she finally tells him?
Warning: Smut, Age Gap
Word Count: 1,743k
Y/N watched Dean as he washed Baby. His big muscular arms on display with the tight white shirt that had dirt on it. Baby was soapy and wet as Dean wiped her down. Y/N was trying not to drool as he went in circular motions cleaning the car. She was too into the scene in front of her; she didn’t notice Sam coming up to her side. “Stare any longer he might just notice your obvious crush on him.” He said to me, making her snap out of it. She turned towards him and rolled her eyes. He chuckled and handed her a beer. She took it from him and took a drink. “Ya think maybe he’s too old for you.” He said. Y/N pushed him and they both laughed. She sighed and looked at Dean again. He was pouring water on the soapy car. She sighed and got up  from her spot and walked into the house. She needed a cold shower to erase the dirty thoughts from her mind. 
It was days later that she’d be staring at the older man as he made breakfast. They had just come back from a hunt and Y/N was hungry so Dean offered to cook for her. Sam was getting some sleep but the other two were wide awake. “How do you like your eggs?” He asked her as he got them out of the fridge. “Over easy.” She said and he cracked the two eggs on the pan. She watched as he put the bread in the toaster. “You really didn’t have to make me anything.” She said as Dean put the eggs on the plate. “But I wanted to. You deserve it putting up with us.” She laughed as he set the eggs and toast in front of her. She thanked him. “Well I like putting up with you guys.” She said. He got his plate and sat across from her. “What, you got a crush on one of us?” He joked but she didn’t laugh. “Nah we’re probably too old for you anyway.” He said. She stared at him without saying anything. She shook her head and went back to eating her food. “Yeah totally.” She said. 
She woke up 7 hours later in bed and yawned. She remembered the cringey things Dean asked her this morning and she sighed. She thought for a second when he asked her that she was caught. Luckily Dean was oblivious.She got out of bed and stretched. She walked out of her room and noticed Dean at the table on the computer. “Where’s Sam?” She asked. “Grocery Shopping.” He said and nodded and sat down across from him. He looked up from the computer at her. “So back to early convo you probably like Jack don’t you?” He asked. She looked at him confused. “No, not the antichrist.” She laughed. “Do you even like anybody?” He asked. “Dean, can we not talk about this?” She asked not wanting to expose herself. “Yeah sure.” He said and went back to research. The silence now,awkward and unwanted. 
Why was Dean so curious about who she had feelings for or if she did? She honestly thought that Dean was too old for her but that’s how she liked it. They were eating dinner and she had a glass of wine. Dean sat across from her and Sam sat next to Dean. Jack and Cas sat next to her. Everyone was in a conversation except her. She never talked much while eating. She sometimes butted in with Jack and Cas but other than that kept quiet. Dean noticed her silence and wondered if it was about his question earlier. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. After dinner was over she helped him clean up.
She didn’t say anything to him so he figured he thought correct. “I’m sorry about the question earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He said. She looked at him. “You didn’t.” She said and poured herself some more wine. “If I did I would completely understand-” “Dean.” She interrupted him. He looked over at her and she was holding the wine and her upper body on the table a little. Her boobs are perfectly on display. “What are you-” She took a sip of wine and smirked. “I told myself I’d never fuck anyone old enough to be my dad.” She states. He stares at her in shock. She stood up and walked closer to him. “That was until I met you.” She said seductively. “Wait you like me?” He asked her confused but kinda turned on.
She nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And before you give me any of that age bullshit. I’m 22 i’m an adult.” He stared at her as her hands ran over his chest. “You have no idea what you do to me Dean.” She says and her hands lower themselves to the bottom of his shirt. She tugs on it and he looks down seeing what she was doing. “Y/N are you sure?” He asked her. She looked up at him with lustful eyes. “Are you sure Dean? Think you can handle me, old man?” He chuckled and picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.She laughed as he took her to his room. He threw her on the bed and smirked. “I’m 42 sweetheart not 72.” He said and took off his shirt revealing his amazing body. She was almost drooling at the sight. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him down in a kiss. He moved his lips against hers as his hands traveled her body. He lifts her tank top up a bit and she pulls away from the kiss. She sits up and removes it showing her white bra. He looks down at her boobs and cups them. “Wow you’re so sexy.” He says and moves his hands to her back. He unclips the bra and she lets it fall freeing her boobs. He smirks at the sight and leans down to put one of her nipples in his mouth. She gasps his name and her hands go to his head as he licks and sucks. Her hands moved to his jeans and she cupped his growing erection. He moans against her nipple. “Dean take these off.” She breathes out. He pulls away from her nipple and gets up to remove his jeans. He pulls them down along with his boxers. She moves herself to the end of the bed and pulls him closer to her. “I didn’t know if I want you in my mouth or inside of me.” She says and he chuckles. Her eyes staring at his long hard cock. “Both would be ideal but right now I really need to be inside of you.” He tells her and pushes her back on the bed.
She smiles as he pulls down her panties. He gets back on her and kisses her again. She runs her hands up and down his muscular back. He pulls away and sighs into her mouth as he lines himself up with her entrance. He pushes in slowly and she gives a sharp gasp. “Are you okay?” He asked. She nods. He pushes in deeper and her noises fill his ear. She hadn’t had sex with many people and certainly not with a guy this big before. Once he was in her all the way he let her adjust to him. They stare at each other as she adjusts to him. He got lost in her eyes not believing that this was happening right now. She pulled him out of his thoughts when she thrusted up. She moaned as the pain was gone and she was full of pleasure. He started moving his hips and she let out little moans. Her eyes closed and her mouth opened. He didn’t let his eyes close as he watched her facial expressions. He groaned as her hips started matching his. She grabs his neck and moans his name. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He breathes out and she opens her eyes to look at him. “You feel so good inside of me.” She whimpers. He leans down and starts kissing her neck. She gasped and pulled him closer if that was possible. “Dean, go faster.” She begged and he moved as fast as he could.His hips pounding into her hard and fast making the bed screech. His lips left marks on her neck. Neither of them cared at the moment.
He pulled out of her some and angled his hips. He slammed back in her and hit her g spot making her scream. He covered her mouth with his hand. “Gotta remember sweetheart we aren’t the only ones here.” He groans in her ear. She tried to keep her sounds to a minimum but with him pounding at her g spot that didn’t work. “Dean, you feel too good.” She mumbles in his hand. He nods. “Fuck I know baby. You feel amazing.” He moans. She felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge. He was twitching inside of her signaling that he was close too. “Baby I'm close.” She moaned and he groaned out a me too. She gasped out feeling him fill her up which triggered her orgasm. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as her orgasm hit her. She bit her lip trying to hold back the loud noises that threatened to spill from her. Her hips moved up as she rode out her high. Dean watched her and almost became hard again. Her hips slowed and she opened her eyes seeing Dean already looking at her. “That was hot.” He smirked. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah well thanks to you.” She smirked back. He pulled out of her causing her to moan.
He got up and went to the bathroom and got a wet towel. He came back and cleaned her and him up. “Such a gentleman.” She teased. He laughed and threw the towel in the laundry bin. He collapsed next to her and yawned. “Tired old man?” He turned to look at her. “Baby I could go another 5 rounds.” He said. She turned towards him and smirked. “Prove it.” She said and he smirked. Sam couldn’t sleep that night but Dean and Y/N weren’t complaining.
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month
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OMG !! idk if you've seen baby bill cipher but he's such a little cutie — you should totally do a oneshot where he's accidentally transformed into his prime years and the reader is forced to take care of him , not realizing that baby bill imprinted on them !! kinda like ducklings ^_^♡
(it can be gender neutral , female , male, whatever you're comfortable with <3)
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You didn’t know what to expect when you came home after work, especially not with Bill. He could’ve flooded your bathtub with rat sized spiders, or made your fridge grow legs just to tell you that you need to catch it, or even decide to decorate your house with portraits of morbidly disturbing subjects that get worse the longer you look at them.
However what you defiantly didn’t expect to see was a little cute yellow blob with comedically large light blue shoes sat on your couch, his singular eye staring at you.
‘Bill?’ You asked as you walked closer to the little guy, still thinking this was some prank as your eyes scan the rest of the room, expecting him to have popped out by now and dose you in fake blood or something but nothing of the sort happened.
The little yellow blob only made grabby hands at you and that was all it took for you to know that this little cutie pie was Indeed the little shit you knew as Bill, but how did he revert to being a baby? You didn’t know but your heart melted when baby bill made a disgruntled noise when you didn’t immediately pick him up and automatically gave in as you held him close to your chest.
Unaware that baby bill had imprinted on you the moment you walked into the room, knowing that you were a trustworthy person to protect and keep him safe from all harm.
‘Hello little guy.’ You cooed as you smiled down at baby bill who only looked back at you with his big eye full of wonder and awe, it made you wonder about how this little cutie became a demonic creature that thrived off of human tragedy and torture because whatever it was that did it didn’t sound too particularly pleasant.
Baby bill only babbled back at you, his tiny hand grasping your finger tightly which only melted your heart even further. ‘Well aren’t you the cutest triangle I’ve ever seen, oh yes you are.’ You praised as you sat down on the couch, tickling him slightly, which caused him to giggle and you couldn’t help but hold this little sweetheart close to your chest.
Taking care a little baby triangle wasn’t easy as you couldn’t go to work without the little guy crying and reaching for you with his tiny hands in desperation, it broke your heart that you had to call in sick for the next couple of days as you tried to figure out what baby triangles liked to eat if they even eat at all.
Soon enough you found out that he didn’t like crust on his sandwiches after the first couple of times when he didn’t touch them, and after that you would always make sure that his sandwiches were crustless as to prevent your house being trashed during his little tantrums.
He still liked silly straws and wouldn’t drink anything at all unless it was through a silly straw, this was already well known knowledge as there was countless times where Bill would casually cause chaos and be found sat on some surface, sipping a drink through a silly straw as though he was watching a movie or a sitcom.
You even bought little outfits for him during this time too! Sure they were made for human babies but you didn’t care as Bill looked absolutely adorable in the unicorn onesie that you had albums dedicated to him and the outfits you bough him.
You had to wash him in the bathroom sink because you feared that the bathtub would be a bit too big for little bill and that was about as successful as giving a dog a bath, you had to case the floating baby triangle throughout the house before finally managing to catch him and drag him to the bathroom.
Baby bill clung onto you no matter where you went, as though he was scared to be apart from you and would even sneak himself into your hoodies, jackets, wherever he could fit himself in so that when you went to the shop, he’d poke his head out to smile at you.
You wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t when he was so cute and so you gently reminded him that he couldn’t always sneak into your pockets and not expect you to experience parental adrenaline when you couldn’t find him nearby.
He pouted and looked saddened by this but you made it up to him by cuddling him and blowing raspberries on him, making him giggle.
You wake up to him sleeping on your face most of the time since he couldn’t sleep anywhere else unless he was near you, but you feared that you’d squish him by accident so you tried letting him sleep on your pillow, only for him to be found fast asleep against your face or your neck by the morning.
It was sweet while it lasted but it was only a matter of time before he reverted back to his usual sharp angles and chaotic self, so you valued all the time you had with baby bill to heart and making sure he had nothing but unconditional love and affection from someone who cared.
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everyonewooeverywhere · 8 months
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MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED
pairing ✭ mechanic!mingi x f!reader
synopsis ✭ when a random girl keeps shamelessly flirting with mingi, despite his many attempts to ward her off, he needs a knight dressed his own sweater and a black mini skirt to fend her off.
content/genre ✭ smut (18+ MDNI)
word count ✭ 2.5k
warnings ✭ smut, please MDNI (seriously), clothed sex (mostly), on top of his car (🫣), fingering, minor jealousy (from mc), spanking, despite the title there's really no dom/sub dynamic (just mc trying to protect her man)
✭✭✭✭
You noticed her immediately when you pulled your car into the shop. Of course you did, she was chatting it up with your boyfriend with a hand reaching out to grab his arm. He pulled back in obvious disinterest, but it irked you nonetheless that another woman was after your man. You knew him well enough to know that he’d definitely told her he had a girlfriend. Despite this, she certainly seemed to think that she was his type. With her grease-stained cargo pants and tight tank top you could tell she worked with cars just like him. 
So what the fuck did she need here? You wondered to yourself. 
You hadn’t yet gotten out of the car and continued to watch them from a distance when someone knocked on your window. Yunho grinned down at you from outside the car. You waved at him, slightly embarrassed that he’d caught you staring so intently at the sight in front of you. He gave you a friendly wave as you stepped out of the car. 
When you got out of the car, you saw her give you a glance over and roll her eyes. Oh you were gonna fucking lose it. It was obvious from the way she had looked at you that she was judging your appearance, and you got the vibe that she would give you the same treatment that most other men you give you if you came to them with a car problem. Like you were some stupid little girl who would be easy to upsell. Did you know anything about cars, not really, but you had a sexy mechanic boyfriend to do that shit for you so what was the need? 
“She’s been here every day this week,” Yunho informed you, clearly aware of your annoyance toward the woman giving bedroom eyes at Mingi, “claims something different is wrong every time she comes in, but when she gets here everything works fine. Then she never leaves. She’s luck it’s been a slow week, or he would have fully lost it by now”
You scoff quietly, “have you tried to ‘help’ her?”
“Yes,” he sighs, “but she always dodges my help and finds a way to drag him back over.”
Of course she does. 
“Anyway, is anything wrong with your car?”
“Of course not,” you laugh, “but, if you wanna take a look, be my guest.”
Yes, you were fully aware of the irony of you and this woman having identical motives when pulling your cars into the shop, but at least you were always a welcome surprise who didn’t go around trying to sleep with other people’s boyfriends.
“Sure. I’ll look,” Yunho grabbed your keys from you. “Um, by the way, I can tell you he certainly wouldn’t mind if you went over and saved him. You know, assert your dominance.”
That line made you giggle. You brushed out your black mini skirt and checked your lip gloss in the side mirror of your car. Luckily, you were feeling incredibly cute today, in your possibly too short skirt and sweater that totally belonged to your boyfriend. The heels on your feet were a gift from him as well, and you always felt sexy hearing the sound they made when you walked. And that was the noise they made as you made your way over to them.
She saw you first. “I’m sorry, can we help you? Isn’t he helping you out?” She asked, clearly annoyed, pointing her finger at Yunho who was checking out your tires. Clearly trying to ward you off, and you got the idea that she knew exactly who you were.
Her acknowledgment of you though, made Mingi turn around. Finally seeing you for the first time since you’d stepped foot in his shop today. He was visibly relieved as he took a step toward you, “hey baby, I didn’t realize you were coming in today.”
He grinned when you placed a manicured hand on his chest. He wouldn’t bring it up now, but he fucking loved when your jealous side came out. And he knew that this specific touch’s purpose was to stake your claim.
“I missed you,” you sighed, stepping closer, “you’ve been so busy this week, and I haven’t seen you at all.”
His hands found your waist and pulled you all the way into him, “I know baby. I’m so sorry.” He placed a chaste kiss on your cheek, “I've had a lot of customers waste my time this week, and I just can’t catch a break.”
You giggle as the girl next to you scoffs, “Wow Mingi, you didn’t tell me your girlfriend was so,” she eyed you up and down again but, before she can finish what was bound to be a wonderful insult, you cut her off.
“Oh so you knew he had a girlfriend and were still all over him like a bitch in heat.”
She laughed at you, "he doesn't mind. Right, Min? Sorry sweetheart, you're not as special as you might think. Maybe, he needs someone a little more real, not some plastic bitch who doesn't even know how to change her own tires."
Sensing that you were about to fully unleash yourself onto this fucking cunt, Mingi put a soothing hand on your shoulder and spoke sternly, “Get out.”
She gaped at him, “Wha-”
“You can fucking fix your car yourself, if there’s even anything wrong with it, but make sure you see Yunho on your way out. He’ll charge you before you leave.”
“You can’t be serious.” 
“Of course I’m serious. You’ve wasted a lot of fucking time for me this week with your perfectly fine car. My time is precious, and since you wasted it, I'm gonna need you to pay up.”
He looked back over at your car, “Yunho, please deal with this.”
The other man’s shoulders slumped, clearly not keen on dealing with this woman, but he made no effort to argue. You made a mental note to bring him lunch next time you came in to make up for it.
Mingi grabbed the hand that’s still on his chest and leaned down to your ear, “come with me.”
✭✭✭✭
“God, I’ve missed you so fucking much baby,” he breathed into you neck as he placed kisses on it. 
You smiled and placed a hand in his hair, gripping lightly onto his dark hair, “I’ve missed you, too.”
You were in the back of the shop, where Mingi kept his own car. You didn’t know the make or the model, but you knew it was a sexy car. And you were well acquainted with it. From it pulling up outside your apartment for the occasional lunch date. To late nights in the backseat when you both knew you couldn’t make it to a bed. And then to moments like these. Days in the shop where your boyfriend wanted nothing more than to see you all on display for him on top of the hood.
“Why didn’t you tell me someone was bothering you, Min?” you pouted as his hands fiddled with the edge of your (his) sweater.
“Oh, y/n I can handle myself, baby, you don’t need to worry yourself with stuff like that.”
Sighing, you placed a hand on his cheek, “you know I just wanna help and be there for you. Will you at least tell me next time?”
“Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up. I promise I’ll tell you next time. Ok?”
You nodded as you moved your hand from his cheek to the back of his head, pulling him back down to your lips. His hands started wandering as the two of you explored each other’s mouths. He removed a hand that was tangled in your hair and caressed your neck. His mouth followed the hand, leaving plenty of dark spots all over your pretty neck.
When he reached for the hem of the sweater you were wearing, you grabbed at his hand, “I don’t wanna get naked in here.”
And you really didn’t. As much as you loved your boyfriend, getting fully undressed anywhere but the bedroom was a line you very rarely crossed. Especially in a place as unkempt and naturally messy as the shop he spends most of his days in. You were a woman of at least a little class, but keeping your clothes on didn’t mean that sex was off the table. Not at all, actually.
“Ok, love,” he moved his hands to fiddle with the edge of your skirt, “it’s a good thing you wore such a tiny skirt today then, right?” 
You nodded, biting your lip to suppress your smile, “you can take my panties off if you really want to, though.” You said through a whisper.
He didn’t need any convincing because in the next moment he’d slipped your panties off your legs and put them in his pocket. His hands were under your skirt now. One gripping your waist and holding you in place. The other teasingly stroking your inner thigh.
“Mingi, please,” you begged breathily, desperately trying to shift closer to his hand, but the other one on your waist was completely preventing that.
He smirked at your desperation, “patience, baby. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
As a man of his word, his thumb brushed your clit, and you let out a whine when he pushed two fingers into you. He worked over your clit with his thumb as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. 
“Oh, Min–” you moaned and gripped his shoulders tight.
The hand from your waist moved to grab your throat as he leaned close to your ear, “God, baby, you moan so pretty for me. You’ll let me know when you’re close, yeah?”
You could barely get out a breath “yes” before he slid another finger into your already soaking cunt. Your grip on his shoulders tightened. Wrapping a leg around his back, you arched your back, trying every option to get as close to him as possible. You lost all control of your hips and ground yourself into his hand in sync with his own movements.
When you felt the familiar knot in your stomach, you whined, and your eyes fluttered shut, “I’m close! So close.” 
“Let go for me baby. I got you.”
As you reached your climax, you wrapped your legs around his waist. 
“Good girl,” his lips reached your own as you came down from your high. He pulled you off the hood of his car and set you on the ground. He looked you up and down, admiring you fully. He lifted a hand to caress your face and his thumb brushed over your cheek. Smiling, he said, “you always do so good for me baby. Turn around for me, yeah?”
You turned around quickly, eager for what you knew was coming next. Without him even having to ask, you leaned over the hood of his car. Giving him just the view he wanted. His hands were quick to flip up your skirt and smooth his hands over your ass. He gripped one cheek in his hand, and you braced yourself on your forearms. When he let go, you wiggled your ass and looked back over your shoulder. Challenging him with your eyes.
He brought his hand back down on your ass, slapping it. When you let out an obvious and loud moan, he smirked and leaned down over you, “you’re so fucking impatient baby, are you really so worked up? Let me help you out. Does that sound good?”
“Please, Mingi,” you begged (god he loved when you couldn’t stop begging), “I need you!”
“Where do you need me, baby?”
“Inside,” you moaned when he slapped your ass again.
“You want my cock, baby?” You could hear him unzipping his pants and the rustle of fabric behind you. Fucking finally.
All you could do was nod desperately and look back at him over your shoulder with begging eyes. He couldn’t fucking hold it together when you gave him those eyes. So desperate and needy that he could almost see tears. And the pout on your lips was the cherry on top.
You braced yourself again when he gripped his hips with one hand. When he finally pushed into you, you moaned out softly.
With one hand gripping your waist hard enough to bruise and the other playing with your clit, he thrust into you. His car shook, and you struggled to hold yourself up but, god, it felt so good. After a week of missing him constantly, you couldn’t think of anything but how full you felt with each thrust. He couldn’t help himself, either from telling you how good you felt.
Shit, baby, you just keep getting wetter.
You just love it when I fill you up like this, don’t you?
Oh, you’re close, baby. I can feel you closing around me so good.
Fuuuuck, god angel I’m almost there. Can I fill you up?
“Yes, yes, yes, please!” you cried. Your loud and pornographic moans bounced off the walls as you reached your climax.
He followed soon after, filling you to the brim. You felt so warm and flushed. Your eyes fluttered in post-orgasm bliss. Panting, he flipped you back over onto your back and helped you sit up. He kissed you one more time, “thank you for coming to visit.”
“Of course,” you laughed softly, “I mean if you reward me like this everytime, then I’ll just come in every day like that bitch earlier, but I can’t promise I’ll pay you for your time.”
“Oh baby, you being here is enough, and your pretty pussy is the perfect payment,” he moved a finger back down to your core and pushed his cum back inside of you.
“Mmmm,” you ran hand through his hair, nails scraping his scalp, “as much as I’d love to go again, you closed an hour ago, and Yunho’s probably waiting for you to lock up.”
Mingi groaned as he finished putting his pants back on. He lifted you off the car, “can I have my panties back please?” You reached a hand out to him.
“Oh,” he laughed as he reached into his pocket to give them back to you.
✭✭✭✭
“Did she leave?” Mingi asked his friend who was finishing up putting new tires on your car. So maybe you actually did need something done with it. 
The other man laughed, “oh she left alright. She tried to stick around, but when she heard you two having fun back there she took off. Kinda felt bad for her honestly.”
You rolled your eyes and scoffed at his sympathy even though you felt an immense sense of satisfaction at knowing you had fended her off so easily. You had “asserted your dominance” to quote Yunho.
Mingi placed a hand on your lower back, “don’t worry baby, we won’t be seeing her for a while.” He turned to Yunho, “You can go man, I’ll finish locking up. Thanks for your help.”
“Good night man, have fun locking up.” Clearly implying that you might distract him from such a task. 
When Yunho was gone, it was only seconds before you were backed into the back door of your own car, and Mingi reached around you to open the door. “Get in, baby.” 
You could only giggle as you climbed in, pulling him in after you by the collar of his t-shirt. When he shut the door behind him, he leaned over you, “just one more. Ok, baby?”
“Ok,” you responded breathlessly. Knowing full well you would be under him in your bed soon enough.
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note ✭ thank you for reading. i'm trying my best over here, but university is kicking my ass. so i appreciate you reading what is essentially a coping mechanism 😀🥲
also this was so nerve racking to post so SEND ME VALIDATION (if you want 😙)
srsly though, thanks for reading! feel free to lmk what you think. reblogs and comments are much appreciated!
have a wonderful day!
mwah~
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literaila · 8 months
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three things
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: a fun trip to the grocery store (how do you raise children?)
warnings: a bit of anxiety, a bit too much of gojo
last part | next part
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*
year one.
"no, satoru." 
how many times have you said that today? 
how many times has satoru pouted--like he's doing right now--and put back whatever he'd plucked off the shelf, grumbling something about how you hated him or you weren't his mom or how he was the one buying everything? 
oh, too many times to count. you stopped after five. 
megumi rolls his eyes with you, already familiar with this routine, looking at everything in the cart again with the same analytical eye he's had since you all walked into the store. you're pretty sure he's counting the total cost.
it might be cute--the way his frown deepens just a little bit after each new item is added--if it didn't worry you completely. 
because it's the first time you've taken the two of them to the store, and the first time you're trying to recall everything their eyes trail over, the things they want but neither of them will say.
you're trying to remember yourself as a kid--if you begged your parents for anything you could possibly want, or if you stood there and stared longingly. but your childhood has always been a dull memory you keep hidden in the attic of your mind. 
so you're not sure what to expect. 
because neither of them has asked for much, since the first night. tsumiki requested a notebook she could draw in, and megumi asked if you could get gojo to stop talking to him. 
the first which you did immediately, even letting gojo get her some expensive pencils to draw with, the second which you... tried. 
it hasn't been easy, the past few days. settling two kids into a dysfunctional house didn't exactly fit into your schedule for the week. 
"why not?" satoru demands, walking right along slide you, pushing the cart because you'd forced him to. "we need dessert." 
"there are seven different types of dessert already in there. i'm hiding at least three of those, by the way." 
"i'll find them," satoru grins mischievously, but waves a hand. "we've got two extra people in the house now. i'm not just shopping for me. do you want them to starve?" 
you roll your eyes, again. then pull on his hair, which he squeaks at. "you're only shopping for you. i've seen your pantries, you know. and i lived with you for three years. we all saw your grocery lists." 
satoru is about to say something, but tsumiki giggles. maybe at the stupid way his face looks. 
the way he's almost smiling, even in denial. how his eyes show from just behind his glasses, his brows moving like a separate entity on his face. 
you haven't really talked to him, the past couple of days. nothing beyond a question about megumi's technique, or where the two of them went to school. 
how long will it take before you finally ask him--
you look over to tsumiki, shaking your head at satoru and smiling back. 
"megumi doesn't like sweets much," she adds to you, easily.
you add it to the mental list of things you know about them.
you look at the little boy, and he nods, looking straight ahead. his shoes catch on the ground every couple of steps like they don't fit right. 
satoru gasps like this is an outrage. because not drinking straight sugar is offensive to him. 
"what?" he asks, stopping all three of you so he can grab megumi by the shoulders. "were you cursed?" he inspects the boy carefully, peering over the glasses on his face.
megumi seems to sink back with each glance of his eyes, his face turning red. 
"cursed to deal with you, maybe," you tell him, pushing him away from megumi. the boy fixes his hair--which had been pushed over his eyes--and glares at satoru.
"he doesn't like sweets?" the man repeats, mouth open, glancing at all three of you like he's not sure that any of you are sane.
"you say that as if you don't eat enough for all four of us." 
"i need the calories," satoru whines, fluttering his eyelashes at you. you ignore him--and the funny way you feel about the gesture.
you look at both of the kids, observing the two of you closely, and give them a look. a look as in, he's crazy. 
megumi swallows. "i like dango." 
"great!" you nudge satoru to keep walking. "we'll get some." 
"that's it?" satoru prods. "what about--" 
you pinch his hip and shake your head, glaring at him when he pouts at you again. 
you step on his heels as you walk through the aisles, still watching the kids with sharp eyes, trying to figure out anything they might want. 
tsumiki murmurs something to megumi every once and a while, but beyond that, they only walk alongside you and satoru, stepping out of the way of any other adults that pass by. 
honestly, you might as well have taken them to the park. they don't even glance at any of the shelves--except when satoru pushes one of them away to grab something. at least at the park, they'd be getting some fresh air. 
after you sigh in--what? frustration? disappointment?--for the fourth time, satoru gives you a look, raising his brows. you shake your head. 
he nudges you with his shoulder but doesn't say anything. whistling while he sneaks more sugar into the cart. 
after the fifteenth minute of this, megumi falls in stride beside you and you look down at him. his eyes evade yours, focusing on the necklace you're wearing instead.
"um, i have to use the restroom," he says to you, soft and embarrassed. 
"okay," you place a hand on his back, gently turning him around, "i think it's just over here," you say, listening as satoru follows along idly. 
"me too," tsumiki says, trailing on your other side. 
the store is almost completely empty, so you tell the two of them that you'll wait right outside the door, and lean against the wall, watching the both of them disappear. 
satoru is already looking at you. 
"what?" you groan, glaring at the doors. 
"what what?" 
you sigh. his voice is annoying. "why are you looking at me?" 
satoru is too close for comfort, his arm brushing against yours--uncomfortably of course because he is the worst--without a care in the world. "what's up?" 
"what do you mean?" 
"why are you acting weird?" 
"i'm not acting weird," you look at him, frowning. 
he's wiping his glasses on his shirt--like he can actually see out of them--and looking at you quizzically. "oh, so you staring at tsumiki and megumi like they're a science experiment isn't weird?" 
you ignore him and his stupid blue eyes. 
"if i was doing that you'd push me down a flight of stairs, but okay..." 
you sigh again, rolling your eyes. and then again. and then you relent because satoru's silence will inevitably break you. "they haven't asked for anything," you say, almost whining to him. "you told them they could pick out whatever they want." 
satoru shrugs. "so they don't want anything." 
"everyone wants something, satoru. especially kids." 
"everyone?" 
"yes. i'd expect you to know better than anyone," he laughs but you frown. "it's a human trait." 
he smirks, leaning down towards you. "what do you want, then?" 
you scoff, flicking his forehead. "i want them to feel comfortable. and i want you to stop bugging megumi." 
"but he makes it so easy," satoru says, pretending to be innocent.
"you're the adult, here," you say, even though you don't really believe it--nor should you. "act like it." 
"all the kid does is scowl," satoru complains. "i'm just trying to make him comfortable." 
"by invading his space?" 
"you stare from far away, i stare from up close." 
"you antagonize." 
satoru grins, crossing his arms, very pleased with himself. he's silent again. 
the past year has almost made you forget that satoru knows you like this. he's always known how to keep you talking, how to read your face and your hesitant glances. 
it's not like time could make him forget. it's not like you've forgotten anything about him. 
"you aren't worried?" you ask, after a second. 
"about the kids?" 
"yes," you say, obviously, "that we're already messing something up." 
he gives you a dubious look. "it's been four days." 
and he's right. you can't expect to understand either one of them after seventy-two hours of merely knowing about their existence. but you don't know how to treat kids like these, because any mistake you make--anything you say--will inevitably come back to haunt you. 
"it's--" you shake your head. satoru doesn't worry about anything, so you don't even know why you're bringing it up. "it's like when you play with someone else's kid and feel like you're breaking some unspoken rule. except this time we're the ones making the rules. there's no one to tell us if we mess up." 
"i think megumi would tell us," satoru answers, almost sarcastically. 
"he's the kid, idiot," you groan. "he doesn't know." 
"rude," satoru is still grinning. "what could you have messed up, at this point? all you've been doing is asking them questions. that's pretty straightforward." 
"maybe it's too much, too fast." 
satoru snorts, shaking his head at you. "grocery shopping?" 
"everything." 
satoru raises a brow at you, watching as you deflate. you feel like each move you make takes a little more air out of you, and who's to say when you'll finally run out? 
how many mistakes do you have to make to finally get it right? 
and you know--and you know that he knows--that it's not just about them, but about you. is this too fast? is this too much?
satoru rests a hand on your head. "you're too in your head about this." 
"well, i have to do it for the both of us." 
he ignores that. "if they need something, they'll ask," the words are soft, genuine. he's completely sure like he always is. "you made it clear that we're just here to help. it's been four days." 
you sigh, nodding reluctantly. 
"we'll figure it out," he says, simply. "you don't need to worry about anything. i mean, i'm here, so..." 
you push his hand away, glaring. "megumi doesn't even talk to you." 
"hey, yes he does." 
"to call you a freak, maybe. or tell you to shut up." 
"don't be jealous of my relationship with megumi. we're bonding." 
you roll your eyes but find a laugh making its way out of you. 
he's always been good at this, too. making everything seem easy. 
when tsumiki comes out of the bathroom door, she smiles at the sight of the two of you still there--both talking animatedly, with similar glares in your eyes. she settles in beside satoru, copying him as she leans against the wall. 
"you think i'm great, don't you tsumiki?" satoru asks her, goading. 
she nods immediately. 
you snort and look away while tsumiki giggles when satoru leans down to smack a kiss on her cheek. 
something inside of you warms, just briefly. 
and then megumi comes out, rubbing his hands together. unlike tsumiki, he glares at satoru and chooses to stand beside you. 
"okay," satoru clasps his hands together. "are you both ready to go?" 
"um," you turn to him. "satoru we haven't--" 
megumi nods immediately, looking a bit brighter at the prospect, and tsumiki furrows her brows, questioning. 
"great! both of you pick out three things that you want and then we'll leave." 
megumi glowers. 
"three things?" you clear your throat. "they need more--" 
"three things," satoru repeats, looking right at megumi while he says it. some words pass non-verbally between the two of them. you might have to tell satoru not to talk to megumi about anything without you. "we'll get everything else we need." 
tsumiki runs alongside megumi and grabs his arm, which he allows, though you watch his eyes roll. 
"go on," satoru shoos them away, smiling all proudly. when they're gone, he turns to you again. "there. now you don't have to worry about picking something they like." 
and he reaches his hand to grab yours, as a simple habit. 
satoru has never tip-toed around the line of physical contact. even with shoko, even when she would push him off.
something passes between the two of you. holding his hand is familiar; egged on by four years of standing alongside him. 
you try not to flinch away from the contact. 
and, sure, satoru probably just lost both of them in the store, and you don't actually have everything else you need, or know what those things are, but he's smiling at you. 
he's trying to be reassuring. 
so you smile back and let him hold your hand. 
"we'll figure it out," he whispers to you, and you push the cart this time while the two of you try to find the children he just lost.
*
later that night--after forcing satoru to put away the groceries with the rest of you--megumi lets you sneak into his room with a (third) bag of candy that satoru grabbed last second, acting like you wouldn't notice. 
"where's the best hiding spot for this?" you ask him, looking around.
it's pretty doubtful that satoru would risk going into megumi's room just to look for it. and, you're sure, that megumi probably wouldn't let satoru open the door, nonetheless go through his things.
the boy points at his dresser and moves some clothes so you can hide it at the bottom of one of the drawers. he doesn't even question your motivations.
as you back out of the room again, you make him promise not to tell, and, for a single second, megumi smiles back at you, crossing his heart. 
*
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allurilove · 3 months
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Yandere Mob Boss x you
*This is inspired by the show called My Sweet Mobster! And this is just a short little drabble! I just quickly wrote this, so if there’s any mistakes, I am probably going to fix it.*
Synopsis: You’re a mommy blogger who shares your life on the internet, and unbeknownst to you, a terrifying and dangerous mob boss starts to watch all of your videos.
He just wanted to wind down for the day. There was nothing more tiring than coercing information out of stubborn little fuckers—people who were a huge threat to his empire—and ending up with nothing when they succumbed to their wounds from hours of torture. He sat in his huge California king bed with the softest sheets known to man, the air conditioning blasting at the perfect temperature for the room, and he scrolled through his YouTube recommendations.
He used the remote to flip through all the channels he had previously watched and liked. But one really caught his interest. He first rolled his eyes when he realized it was one of those mommy “bloggers” who just boasted about how their lives were better than everyone else’s, and how they conveniently got a pass to post the craziest and most intrusive things about their children. Kids getting exploited wasn’t something he wanted to watch, and he was surprised to even see your channel show up on his flat TV screen.
The yandere mob boss mostly watched primitive cooking videos or those men who went out into the wilderness and built houses from the ground up. Although, he was too lazy to click on a button to skip your video, so he decided to give you a shot instead.
You were perfect. Too perfect. It was hard for him not to get sucked in and binge-watch every post you had made. He was absolutely enamored at the sight of you and your adorable children. He barely blinked whenever you came on the screen, and his eyes tried to get a good look and memorize your face completely.
You were just talking about how you liked to make things from scratch, how you kept a little garden in your backyard, and how you got the kids to help you out as a fun activity. He learned that the father of your children was a deadbeat who never wanted to do anything with the kids and left the moment he could. Judging by your frustrated tone in your ‘Get to Know Me’ video, you were upset that he had left you so soon and suddenly. It certainly wasn’t easy for you at first, and you talked about how you wished you had a mentor to help you. Thus, this channel came to be. You wanted to help other women and help all the families that were going through the same thing as you. You were an amazing person, mother, and you gave helpful advice to all the new parents out there.
You were the total opposite of him. You were better.
You wouldn't kill people, you wouldn't threaten and torture them to the brink of death, and you were sickly kind and sweet to everyone. It was nauseating for the man to even think about dealing with hate comments (he got them daily from the news outlet), to edit and figure out what to do for each video, and you started to open his eyes and made him realize that you were practically superwoman.
The yandere mob boss was so grateful that you had posted about a hundred videos on your mommy blog. A hundred videos for him to see a glimpse into your life. There was nothing safe about how you were so open and honest, and certainly, you should have kept your mouth shut about the new place you were about to move into.
For someone who was a YouTuber, you knew nothing about internet safety. He took a mental note of how the interior of your new house looked, and you even showed a bit of the exterior and the neighborhood. He wrote down in his notes to remind himself to look for the exact house on Redfin or Zillow.
The yandere mob boss knew your two children’s names: Lila and Finn. Lila was the youngest of the two; she didn’t look anything like you, which meant she looked like the baby daddy. It was a shame, really, that the cute small girl had to end up with genes from the horrible parent. The eldest stuck to you like glue. He clearly held a candle for his father still, and was having a hard time adjusting to the new lifestyle. Despite that, you continue to push on.
And so did he.
Yandere mob boss binge-watched all of your videos to the point where he knew everything there was to know about you. He knew all the schools you went to, all the partners (you were willing to share) you had previously dated, and he could feel his cold exterior start to crack when he let out a genuine laugh at your witty jokes. He spent hours, weeks, and now months watching your channel flourish and grow.
He smiled when you did. He too let out a sigh of relief after you saved your kid from tripping. He laughed, cried, blushed, and got angry when you did. The expressions and emotions he was feeling were all controlled by your content, and by you personally. You truly had him in the palm of your hand.
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Note
Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…
I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !
You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Wildflowers Grow in Ruins
(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)
Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.
Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.
A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.
Wars are exhausting. 
You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.
But waging a war against yourself… 
Now that is pure hell. 
It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.
But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.
He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.
But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.
Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.
The day has finally come to let him go.
You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.
But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.
Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to. 
You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.
But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.
So why is it so hard to let go?
The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today. 
And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.
You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.
Good. 
Good.
Great.
You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.
The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown. 
It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.
Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?
The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.
"I need to talk to you." 
Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.
He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.
"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too. 
This should be easy…
It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.
"I think we should go separate ways."
The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.
"Ok."
It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm. 
"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.
He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.
"Is it because of my work?" 
"No."
"What is it then?"
Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.
Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.
"Hey. Hey."
He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling. 
"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"
His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?
His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.
And he must hate weakness.
"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows. 
It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.
"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?
"What do you mean?"
He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.
"Have you found someone else?"
What the…
"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"
He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you. 
"I'm just…" 
Jesus, this is just humiliating. 
"I'm just not your type."
"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise. 
He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one. 
Losing you.
"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."
"It's not that. You don't understand–" 
"Try me."
"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"
"Stop right there."
The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.
"Bloody fucking hell…" 
He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven. 
And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.
"You're serious?"
"Yes."
"This is the reason you wanna break up?"
Ugh.
"Yes?"
His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing. 
But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.
"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"
"I don't know." 
"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"
"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done. 
"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."
He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.
"Can I touch you?"
You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.
"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.
"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…
"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"
Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.
"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.
"Then why do you think you're not my type?"
"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.
"That for sure ain't true."
"But it is."
He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.
"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to. 
"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"
It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.
"No…?"
"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"
"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.
"No, I don't think I will."
He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.
"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"
You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to… 
It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.
"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."
"Simon–"
"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"
He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is. 
"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."
For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?
"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.
"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."
You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.
"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."
You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.
"Then let me help you."
The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.
"You don't even let me touch you anymore."
It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.
"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."
Oh my God…
Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months? 
That would explain why he has avoided you too…
He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain. 
Jesus fucking Christ.
"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."
"Never seen such a gorgeous mess." 
He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution. 
Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.
"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."
Oh God–
"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."
"Hmh…"
"Don't wanna live without that smile."
You don't have to. 
God, you don't have to…
"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.
"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"
"...Ok." 
He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.
"Come on. Make me believe it."
"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.
"That's my girl."
Oh fuck…
He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly. 
And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?
The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.
"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."
He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.
He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.
He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender. 
No one can fake such fervor.
You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.
"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."
You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.
"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"
"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."
He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.
"Yeah…?"
"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."
His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.
"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."
"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.
"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."
If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.
"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.
"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty. 
"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."
Wow… He is a bit pissed.
Had they checked your ass out when you visited him? 
It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy. 
"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left." 
Whoa. 
Ok…
First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.
You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.
Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…
There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.
"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"
"No. No, I don't want you to stop." 
Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.
He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.
Oh f–
"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in. 
"Uh–...."
Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end. 
"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."
"Oh god…"
There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.
"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you. 
You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.
"Simon–"
His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.
"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."
You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard. 
You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.
"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."
He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.
"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."
The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.
"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"
"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all. 
"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."
Shit…
"I, I'm gonna…"
Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.
He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.
Fucking bastard…
Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core. 
You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.
His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load. 
Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.
"Jesus Christ…" 
He sounds dazed. 
Relieved. 
"Should've done this weeks ago."
You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.
"I should've talked to you weeks ago..." 
"Yeah. You should have."
"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.
"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."
He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even. 
The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…
And love.
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nathaslosthershit · 4 months
Text
Media Interrogation [Part 2] (LN4)
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(Read part 1 here!)
Summary: He had prayed the media would leave his newfound ‘friend’ out of their questions, only focusing on the race. But Lando Norris would soon see he wasn't so lucky.  A/N: I don't know how Twitch works so excuse the poorly explained streaming things.
A little less than two weeks after Lando had met his new neighbor, they had spent any time they could together, and any time they couldn’t they were texting and calling. It was exciting, they weren’t dating per se, still trying to get to know each other before they jumped into anything, but this newfound friendship had been great for both of them. Slowly, Lando had been introducing her to some of his friends, and with all the new faces, she didn’t feel half as lonely as she used to. 
It was wonderful.
He had warned her about the stream, leaving the details of him turning bright red, giggling, and Max admitting that Lando had called her his “cute neighbor” out. But, of course, after she spent far to long going through the #landonorris tag on various social media sites, she had found a clip of the interaction. Seeing how giddy he was about it, even after meeting her for only a minute, made her giddy as well, happy to know that it seems her feelings weren’t one sided.
He had invited her to the race, being as it was at Silverstone, but the thought of going there and meeting new people and being seen by the media so soon after her and Lando just met made her nervous, so she politely declined. 
Although he was a bit upset, he understood her reasoning. 
Before the race, Lando was with Oscar giving various interviews, with mostly race related questions. ‘How was the car feeling?’, ‘you think you guys can give Max a run for his money this weekend?’, etc. It was easy and he wasn’t worried about intrusive questions.
Until they opened it up to the fans.
When they said they’d take fan questions, Lando began to sweat. Beside him, Oscar let out a laugh, knowing what the first question was bound to be.
“Lando, it seems you made friends with you “cute neighbor” while streaming, have you guys talked more?” one of the fans asked.
Shit.
He probably should have warned her this would happen but, maybe it was wishful thinking, he hadn’t expected to be asked about it. And maybe his cute neighbor wasn’t even watching. 
“Uhhh” he said as he let out an awkward laugh, “Yeah, we have talked a bit more. The cookies were really good so I’ve been trying to get the recipe.” Lies, he hadn’t asked for the recipe, he just wanted her to make the cookies for him again.
“Is she your girlfriend?” Another fan yelled out.
There was a beat of silence from Lando, causing fans to laugh at his awkwardness around the situation. Oscar, now feeling bad for his teammate, jumped in.
“He shared some of the cookies with me too. He wasn’t kidding when he said they were really good. Might have to ask her to make me a batch.” Oscar jokes. 
Seeing as he wasn’t going to answer the girlfriend question, which wasn’t even a proper question as the fan just yelled it out instead of waiting to be picked, the interviewer moved on. 
He really hoped she wasn’t watching this.
She was totally watching this and enjoying every second.
It felt nice to see Lando blushing so profusely at the mention of her, which made her feel better for also blushing profusely when he talked about her.
Since she saw the stream, she had noticed he definitely had a bit of a crush on her, but she didn’t know how deep it went. If it was a tiny crush that was bound to fade as they became closer, or if this closeness was going to lead to an even bigger crush. Only a few weeks into their friendship though, and she had already fallen fast and hard.
She couldn’t do anything. She'd never do anything, even though she so badly wanted to. All her new friends were Lando’s, if he wasn’t as serious as she hoped about his feelings, it would crush her. She wouldn’t be able to stay friends with him and in turn would lose all the new friends she had made. 
So she vowed to not make the first move.
Eventually, three months had gone by and the pair only became more inseparable. Instead of planning mini vacations and trips between races, Lando always tried to get home so he could see his favorite neighbor, who he now knew he had massive feelings for.
She had started work and it was going great! Her worries about being alone if she lost Lando went away as she made more non-Norris-acquired friends. 
The two had also graduated to an even deeper level of intimacy. They weren’t sleeping together, or straight up kissing. But holding hands, cuddling, kisses on the cheek or forehead, were all normal for the pair. Sure it seemed so childish to dance around their feelings at their grown age but it's all they could do for now.
Baking had become a new hobby as well. Before moving, she couldn’t really say she was much of a baker, only doing it when it came to birthdays or bake sales. But with Lando becoming increasingly more obsessed with her cookies, she had started to branch out with other flavors, even throwing in muffins or a pie. 
She had just finished a new recipe her mom sent her, which were divine, when she knocked on Lando’s door, flashbacks to the first time they met those few months ago going through her head.
Lando, also like those few months ago, had been streaming when he got a knock on his door. Smiling to himself as he already knew who it would be, which the fans most certainly caught, he quickly excused himself to go open it. When he saw her there, he immediately pulled her into a hug.
“I’ve missed you.” He mumbled into her neck.
“You saw me yesterday.” She laughed, happy to know he missed her as much as she did him.
“Can’t blame me for wanting to see my favorite girl all the time.” He replied.
“Favorite girl, huh? It's an honor. I don’t know what I did to deserve such a title.” She teased.
“Your cookies, of course!” He said as he pulled back, when she shot him a look, he continued, “and your wonderful personality, and how great of company you are.”
“That's more like it. Speaking of, I tried a new recipe and, not to toot my own horn, these are the best yet.” She said as she grabbed the container of cookies from her bag.
“Yes! Thank goodness I was beginning to experience withdrawal. I am streaming right now, they are always asking about you since the- anyway, could I do a taste test? You can join me, I think the chat would love it. I would love it. But you don’t have to if-” He began to ramble, clearly feeling awkward at almost admitting just how much she is brought up on his streams.
“No, that sounds great! I definitely join.” She immediately regretted the words the moment they left her mouth but the look on Lando’s face stopped her from taking it back. He has lit up in a way she hadn’t seen and all she wanted to do was forever make him light up that way.
He quickly pulled her to his streaming room, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling her onto the screen. “I’ve returned with cookies, oh and of course a special guest. Guys, please don’t be weird. Be normal or I'll end the stream.” He joked, but also prayed that his fans would for once listen and try not to embarrass him for their own entertainment. He knew they wouldn’t listen though.
Immediately after saying that, someone donated and got their message read out loud,
‘Are you the cute girl that gave him cookies?’
“Uh I don’t know. That depends. How many cute girls give you cookies, Lan?” She teased.
“Oh hundreds, I am constantly drowning in sweet baked goods. My trainer hates me now.” He teased back.
“Then I guess I should take these back, don’t want to make your trainer even more mad.”
“Over my dead body. Seriously, you’d have to pry these out of my cold dead hands. Anyway, this is a taste test of a new recipe, as was explained to me ‘it's the best yet’. You guys can’t eat them obviously so I’ll try to be descriptive.” 
After one bite, Lando started moaning in a way that was uncomfortable for everyone except him. Her face had never felt hotter at the sounds he was making and she was far too scared to check to see if her face was as red as it felt.
Do you hear him make those noises a lot?
“Alright! I told you if you guys made it weird I’d end it, so you lost your privileges. Goodbye everyone, think about what you did.” Lando was kidding, his fans knew it, but it was a pretty crazy question to ask. Not that the chat cared.
“Wow, I wasn’t expecting all that.” She said once he turned off the stream.
“I know, I’m sorry they get like that.” He replied, feeling bad that he hadn’t explained well enough what she should expect. 
“No, I thought they would be worse to be honest, I meant the moans you were making from my cookies.” “Oh come on they weren’t that crazy, and the cookie was amazing, I had to.”
“Lando, those noises were nothing short of erotic, I was worried how far you were going to go if you had another bite.” She teased.
They both laughed and after a few seconds, a beat of silence fell over them. As they looked into each other’s eyes, the energy in the room shifted. Finally, Lando spoke up.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked.
“Please,” She replied.
Explosions, fireworks, sparks, whatever you want to call it, they felt it. It was so cheesy but it was so electric, they couldn’t help but feel like they did in the movies.
After a much needed breather, before going in for more, Lando asked, “Let me take you out, properly, please? Like an actual date.”
“Only if it's not a seafood place, I’m allergic to fish.” 
“Good God, I’m gonna fall in love with you.”
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