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#not sure how helpful this will be but here you go
cold-kitty · 3 days
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Due to very, very high demand for part two of my Yan!Mermaid (looks at my notifications and cries), here it is.
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Contains: NSFW, dub-con, same warnings as the last one other than that
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Yan!Mermaid who starts clinging to your leg as you sigh, so happy that you're giving him another chance.
Yan!Mermaid who watches your hand signals and listens to your foreign words, not understanding a thing but tries to listen for your sake.
Yan!Mermaid who forces himself not to straddle you when he sits next to you, his tail swaying slowly behind him.
Yan!Mermaid who watches you fish all day, just enjoying your presence.
Yan!Mermaid who pouts and whines and clings to you when you try to leave. no no no no no! don't leave! i don't wanna be alone! stay with me, i promise to keep you warm!
Yan!Mermaid who tries to climb into the trunk of your car, and somehow manages.
Yan!Mermaid who happily slides out of your truck when you arrive home, smiling wide.
Yan!Mermaid who's surprised when you don't seem happy too. you look mad, but you suck it up and groan.
Yan!Mermaid who doesn't like how you put him in a tank with the fish you caught, he wants to sleep in your bed!
Yan!Mermaid who climbs out of the tank when you're asleep and crawls across the floor to your room, curling up in bed with you.
Yan!Mermaid who lets his mind wander to when he was grinding against you, how good it felt. y-your skin is so w-warm and soft... a-ah...
Yan!Mermaid who is immediately worked up again, pressing himself against you tight.
Yan!Mermaid who lets his hands greedily trail over you, gently squeezing your thighs and watching the flesh bounce back into place.
Yan!Mermaid who hesitantly pulls down your pants. he promises himself that he's just looking, but he can't resist the temptation. s-so pretty...
Yan!Mermaid who starts by squishing the flesh of your ass, watching it jiggle. he continues to do that for a while, almost mesmerized. he loves watching you squirm in your sleep too.
Yan!Mermaid who sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them and getting them wet.
Yan!Mermaid who starts by pushing one finger into you, slowly so he doesn't hurt you. he watches how your unconscious body squirms and reacts to the intrusion.
Yan!Mermaid who slowly pushes another finger into you, but that wakes you up. you look behind you almost immediately, a horrified look on your face.
Yan!Mermaid who expects you to hurt him, staring at you with wide and fearful eyes. he starts moving his fingers nonetheless, hoping that it might calm you down, twisting and curling them with slight hesitation. oh please don't hate me! you're just so irresistible!
Yan!Mermaid who watches as your body starts to quiver softly, your head falling back into the pillow. you were giving up to the pleasure, even if reluctantly.
Yan!Mermaid who feels encouraged, his fingers thrusting fasted, twisting and curling them to his hearts content. he makes sure to get real close to you so he can hear all of your soft whimpers and moans. a-ah... keep making those sounds... so cute...
Yan!Mermaid who keeps this up until you cum, and oh my God is he so happy. he watches as you convulse softly, pulling his fingers out and licking them. he doesn't mind if it's nasty if it's you.
Yan!Mermaid who lowers himself down and starts licking up the cum that fell onto the bed.
Yan!Mermaid who pats your back reassuringly as he positions himself behind you, helping you out though the whole thing. stroking your hair, praising you in his language, kissing every inch of your body, going as slow as he can.
Yan!Mermaid who cuddles you the whole night after that, kissing you softly. he's so happy, so fucking happy. he finally got to mate with you like a real lover, even if it was only one short round.
(BONUS NSFW: Yan!Mermaid definitely does analingus, %100. Yan!Mermaid puts your needs and wants before his, if he wants to go fast and you want to go slow he goes slow. he hates seeing you in crying, so he refuses to overstimulate you, nothing rough or degrading, and he doesn't dare leave marks on you. Yan!Mermaid AFTERCARE, SO MUCH OF IT.)
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Does anyone know how mermaid dick works? Like honestly, how. Is it in the tail? Just hanging out there? HOW!?
~🐈‍⬛
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girlgenius1111 · 2 days
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all that i did to try to undo it
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engen!reader... platonic ingrid & reader + platonic mapi & reader
r lives with her sister, but their relationship is rather rocky. can they fix it before it's broken beyond repair? angst. pretty much just angst. r is not mentally well. proceed with caution.
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Moving from Norway to Spain wasn’t your idea. It seemed that your parents had had quite enough of you. You knew you could have been better behaved, but you hadn’t realized they were so frustrated that they were willing to send you away. Not until it was too late. 
It was your friends, back in Norway, that were the issue. They were why you snuck out and drank and cut school and generally broke all the rules that had been set for you. And this was why, when you arrived in Spain, it all… stopped. Mostly because you barely spoke Spanish and had no friends. Also because Ingrid had adopted a rather tough love attitude with you. She was strict and cold and you knew that she wouldn’t tolerate any missteps. And honestly, you didn’t know where you’d go if Ingrid decided she didn’t want you around anymore. Not that you were sure she really did in the first place; you were pretty convinced that she was doing this as a favor to your parents. She didn’t want you here, and you weren’t going to push her to do something about that. 
Unbeknownst to you, Ingrid did want you there. It had been her idea for you to come to Spain in the first place. Your parents were at a loss with what to do with you, and Ingrid was tired of hearing how frustrated they were with you when she knew you were just trying to get their attention. She decided she could probably do a better job, simply by just paying attention. And so she did. She moved you in, she got on your ass about your responsibilities and your future, and you hadn’t yet put a toe out of line. Your sister was determined that you assimilate, thinking it would make it easier for you, so she only allowed you to speak Spanish in the home. She had Mapi read over your essays, and help with your grammar. She drove you to school everyday, and made you all eat dinner together as a family every night. It seemed to be working. You were quiet, but behaved. Ingrid was pretty convinced she’d done a good job, and solved the issue. You were a teen, and she figured you didn’t need her trying to hangout with you all the time. 
So, while Ingrid paid attention to your school, she didn’t pay much attention to you. She didn’t know you didn’t have any friends at your school, or that a lot of the kids were pretty cruel to you. She didn’t know school had turned into an entire nightmare, and that you had to push through an insane amount of anxiety just to walk through the front doors every morning. She didn’t know that you were behaving because you were scared of her kicking you out. She didn’t know you were desperately sad and homesick, not even allowed to speak your language in your own home with her. She didn’t know that all you wanted some days was for her to just pull you into a hug, and tell you she was proud of you. That she loved you. 
Why would she? Your parents clearly didn’t. Ingrid had no reason to either. 
Mapi had some reservations about the way Ingrid was with you. It was a complete 180 from the Norwegian’s normal demeanor. Ingrid was smiley and warm and silly with the younger girls on the team, and stern and harsh with you. Mapi noticed the way you watched your sister with her teammates, face full of jealousy. As time went on, though, and you didn’t cause trouble, Ingrid became more and more sure that her approach was the right one. Mapi still wasn’t as convinced. She wasn’t quite sure it was her place to say anything, though, so she kept a watchful eye on everything, and made sure to make you feel like their home was yours too.
You didn’t quite know what to make of Mapi, honestly. She was clearly infatuated with your sister. And she was always so kind to you. Mapi made you coffee every morning, made sure to buy all your favorite foods at the store, and she reminded you, repeatedly, that if you ever wanted to talk, about anything, she was around.  But Mapi was Ingrid’s. Not yours. If Ingrid was so reluctant to show you any affection, you shouldn’t seek it out from her girlfriend. 
You were quietly miserable. Ingrid thought you were okay, finally mellowing out. Mapi was caught somewhere in the middle, seeing both the side of yourself you hid from your sister, and the neutral façade you put on in front of her. 
For you, things couldn’t get much worse. Or at least, you didn’t think so. 
------
It had been a while since you’d gotten in a fight. You’d forgotten how good it felt to punch someone in the face who very much had it coming. 
It was your birthday. You would have forgotten, too, if a few of your old friends hadn’t texted you. Ingrid had forgotten. You’d woken up to her knocking on your door like she always did. She was focused on the important training session ahead, and barely spoke to you on the way to school. She’d forgotten your birthday, and you thought that it hadn’t bothered you. Until the idiotic group of boys was following you down the hallway, saying awful things. Until you’d snapped back at them in a way you never did, and until they began throwing punches. And you didn’t run. You turned and you fought and you let your anger and your hurt out for the first time in months. For the first time since you left Norway.
 There was an odd sense of calm that washed over you, waiting in the dean’s office for your sister to arrive. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, in that moment, what she would think. Your hands hurt, your face hurt, and you’d finally stood up for yourself to the awful boys that wouldn’t leave you alone. 
When Ingrid walked into the office, though, an absolutely livid expression on her face, you realized you did care. Very much. You had been waiting on the dean, and although he was a scary man, you would have rather faced him at that moment. 
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Ingrid hissed, grabbing your face in her hands and inspecting your wounds. 
“Ing,” 
“Do not. I cannot believe you. I don’t want to hear your excuses or your explanations. You are going to apologize to the dean, take your punishment, and we are going to go home. I’ll deal with you there. Understand?” 
You lowered your head, nodding. She took the seat on your other side, still visibly angry, though she softened for just a second as she looked closely at your hand. 
“Is anything broken?” She asked quietly. Your eyes flooded with tears at the question, everything inside of you screaming to lean into her arms. She was angry, you thought. She was angry, and she wouldn’t want to hug you right now. 
“I don’t think so.” You mumbled instead. 
“Good. María will patch you up when we get home.” Her tone was cold again, and you began to zone out. The dean walked in, spewing a long lecture. He didn’t tell Ingrid that you hadn’t swung first, or that the boys had been bothering you for weeks. He didn’t tell Ingrid what they called you, or that it was three 18 year old boys against an 18 year old girl. He just said that the school didn’t tolerate fighting, and that you would be suspended for a week. 
The worst part was that Ingrid didn’t even ask what happened. Not in the office, not in the car, not when you both got home. You used to get into fights all the time, back in Norway. She thought this was more of the same from you. Your sister stormed off to call your mom the minute you were in the house, leaving you standing in the entry hall in front of Mapi, eyes fixed on the ground. 
Mapi’s hand was gentle when it rested on your back, gently guiding you up the stairs and into the couple’s bathroom. She sat you on the counter like you were a little kid, and pulled out the first aid kit. Only then did you raise your head and look at her. You thought she would be mad, but she only looked concerned. 
“She hates me.” You said it before you could stop yourself, and your voice shook over every syllable. Mapi’s face melted, and she shook her head insistently, carefully wiping a tear off your face. 
“No, nena. She’s upset, but she loves you very much.” Mapi seemed convinced. She loved your sister, after all. And though you didn’t know it, Mapi had been a witness to your sister worrying over you for 2 years now. 
There was no use arguing, so you stopped talking again, and Mapi got back to cleaning your face up. She asked you a couple questions in English about things that hurt and didn’t hurt, and you responded in English. Mapi had moved on to cleaning the cuts on your knuckles when Ingrid appeared. 
“Can you bend your fingers?” Mapi asked. 
“Yeah, it’s a little sore, but I can bend them.” You replied. 
“Español.” Ingrid scolded. You nodded, correcting yourself quickly, now trying to stifle the flow of tears flowing from your eyes. 
“How are you feeling?” Ingrid asked, stepping in closer to study you closely. 
“Okay. Hurts a bit but I’m fine.” You said softly. 
“Do you promise it just hurts a bit?” Ingrid asked. 
“Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. Your body didn’t hurt that bad. You hurt though. Every inch of you ached with a deep sadness, a deep loneliness. But that wasn’t what Ingrid had asked. 
“We have a dinner tonight, a team dinner. Will you be okay here if we go?” 
A little bit of you shattered, then. Maybe you’d been hoping that Ingrid had remembered your birthday, had been planning a fun dinner or something. Clearly not. 
“Yeah. I’ll get a head start on my homework.” You managed, biting down hard on your lip to stop yourself from crying. Ingrid nodded, satisfied, but Mapi didn’t look away from you. 
“Are you sure? You look a bit upset, nena. We can stay if you need us.” 
You shook your head harshly. “No, I’m fine. Promise.” 
You were very far from fine. You needed to be alone, though, if you were going to feel every complicated emotion raging through you. 
------
“Ingrid,” Mapi said suddenly, about halfway into their drive to the restaurant. Ingrid hummed in response, looking over at her girlfriend from the passenger seat. “Your sister said something today. And it seemed like she really, really believed it. I think you need to be a little easier on her, amor. She’s just a kid.” 
“What did she say?” Ingrid wondered, head stuck on that comment. 
Mapi hesitated, well aware of how hard this might hit Ingrid. “She said you hated her. She was pretty convinced, Ingrid. How mad were you at the school?” 
Ingrid sighed roughly, running an exhausted hand over her face. “Fuck. She’s always been dramatic, I forget that she’s just… sensitive sometimes. I was pretty harsh.” She admitted. 
“Amor, I know you think this strict approach is working, but I don’t know. She seems so sad sometimes. She’s just a kid, and she’s doing her best. I think she needs you to be a bit… softer with her.” Mapi suggested, finally voicing the thoughts that had been plaguing her for weeks, if not months. 
Ingrid was quiet for a while. “Maybe. I don’t know, I thought it was working, but then today happened. I don’t know what to do.” 
“Why don’t you just… talk to her? What was the fight even about?” Mapi asked. 
Ingrid didn’t respond, her frustration with herself quickly replacing her frustration with you. 
“You didn’t ask?” Mapi sighed. 
“No, but the dean didn’t say either.” Ingrid defended halfheartedly. 
“That probably isn’t a good thing mi amor. We’ll talk to her when we get home. Figure out what’s going on.” Mapi declared. 
“We?” Ingrid asked quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips. 
“We.” Mapi affirmed, looking cautiously at her girlfriend. “Is that okay?” 
“More than okay.” Ingrid assured her. “I think she might need both of us.” 
It was clearer, now, to Ingrid. Suddenly, and very painfully. That she’d gone about this wrong. The extent of the damage that had been done was not yet to be realized, though. 
--------
The silence that echoed through the house was what got you. Today, on your 18th birthday, you sat alone at the kitchen table, tears falling freely from your eyes. They stung the cuts in on your face, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. It felt like wherever you went, you messed up. Wherever you went, you weren’t wanted. When you’d come to Norway, you’d had hope that maybe things would be different. Maybe Ingrid would treat you differently than your parents. She had, but you still didn’t feel loved. It felt like there was something fundamentally wrong with you that drove everyone away. You just wanted to make it better, and yet, at the same time, you felt so incredibly hopeless. Like there was nothing in the world you could do to make your family love you. You supposed it was your fault; you’d been acting out for years. Everyone was bound to get tired of you. You didn’t want to be like that, you just didn’t know what else to do. The age gap to your siblings was huge, your parents were tired of being parents, and no one had any time for you. Or the desire to make time. You’d done the only thing you could think of at the time to get their attention, and it had only made things worse. You had only made things worse. 
And still, a part of you was angry. Furious. Did you have to be perfect? Did you have to make no mistakes? Shouldn’t they love you regardless of all that? There was no consistency in your brain; sometimes it all felt like your fault, and other times it felt like there wasn’t anything you could do right. 
You felt the inexplicable urge to apologize. Really apologize, really explain.  Maybe they could forgive you. Maybe Ingrid could forgive you, maybe you could get her to understand. You didn’t think you could make it through an entire apology, though, not verbally, not face to face with your intense sister. So you got out a piece of paper, and began writing. 
Ingrid,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry you got stuck with me, and I’m sorry I haven’t been good enough. I’ve tried, I promise I have. Sometimes I feel like it isn’t possible for me to meet your standards, but I still try. 
I’m sorry about the fight today. They came at me, I swear. These three boys have been bothering me since I've arrived, and they say horrible things to me, and I just snapped. I should have just kept quiet, and they never would have started the fight, and I’m sorry I didn’t do that. 
I’m sorry I’m always home and bothering you and Mapi. I’m sorry I haven’t made any friends here, and I’m sorry my spanish isn’t perfect. I’m sorry I'm so miserable. I don’t know why I can’t just be happy, but I can’t. I want to be. I really do. It just feels like you’re always mad at me. I feel like such an awful person no matter what I do. Mom and Dad didn’t want me. And I don’t think you want me. I don’t think I want me either, sometimes. 
I’m trying to like it here, but it’s so different. I miss Mom and Dad, even though I know they don’t miss me. I miss my home and I miss Norway. I miss my friends. I didn’t really feel like I belonged there, but at least it was familiar. 
I think I’m mad at you, too. You’re my sister, Ingrid. Do you always have to be so harsh with me? I think I’d be happier, if you seemed happier that I was here. 
You forgot my birthday. Mom and Dad didn’t remember either.  I turned 18 today. I turned 18 today, and you and Mapi went to dinner without me. I made a sandwich and ate it by myself in the kitchen. I’ve never felt so worthless. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. I just want you all to love me again. I want to love myself again. I think I’d do anything, to feel like I have a family again. 
I’m so desperate I’m writing you this absurd letter that I’ll probably never give you. I don’t know if I can give it to you. I’m scared to give it to you, and I’m scared not to. 
I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me. I’m scared because it feels like no one would even notice if I was gone. It feels so easy. Everyday it feels like it would be easier. 
I guess I’m asking for help, Ingrid. I don’t want to ask you to fix this for me, but I don’t think I can do it myself.  I want to be better, I want to
Your writing cut off abruptly, as the front door opened. All you felt was panic. You were a mess, sobbing uncontrollably on the couch with the letter almost completed in front of you. They weren’t supposed to be home yet. The event was supposed to be a long one, and you’d planned on leaving the letter, if you were brave enough, on the kitchen table, and going to bed. Handing it to your sister face to face had never been the plan. You weren’t even sure it made any sense, and you weren’t sure you wanted to give it to her. 
The front door swung open anyway, and Mapi walked into the house. You remembered, then, that she was always coming home early. She had a follow up appointment for her knee the following morning, and she hadn’t wanted to be out late. Alexia had driven her home early, not wanting a late night herself. Ingrid was still at the dinner, but Mapi was here. Standing frozen in the entryway, with a perfect view of the disaster you were on the couch. You were frozen, and she was frozen, but then she was moving, moving closer to you, and you couldn’t you couldn’t you couldn’t. 
“Pequeña, what is it? What hurts?” Mapi asked urgently, moving to sit next to you on the couch. She thought you must be hurt, physically. The thought that the agony on your face could be from anything else didn't even enter her brain. 
She sat next to you, and you were still frozen, not even able to move the piece of paper out of sight. 
Mapi saw it. You were using one of your textbooks as a surface, not unlike how you did your homework. Your favorite pen was in your hand. And resting in your lap, on the textbook, was a piece of paper that somehow radiated pain. Mapi was reaching for it before she even knew what she was doing, and you were still frozen. Frozen, staring at Mapi like you were afraid of her. Very suddenly, Mapi was terrified. 
“Nena, what is this?” She asked softly. It was to Ingrid. Written in Spanish. Mapi saw her name in it a few places as she scanned it over, before she looked back up at you. “Nena?” she prompted again. 
This time, you did move. You jolted forward, reaching for the letter, a deep gasping breath escaping your mouth. Mapi held it out of your grasp, her eyes stuck on one sentence, the only sentence that she’d read so far. It had jumped out at her. 
“I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me.” 
An instantly, Mapi knew she couldn’t let you take the piece of paper back. She knew she needed to call Ingrid and tell her to come home. She knew she couldn’t let you out of her sight. You were so fragile, though, sitting in front of her like you were second away from shattering into a million pieces. Too many pieces for anyone to ever be able to fix. 
“Nena, I think I need to read this.” She whispered, watching carefully as you pulled your hand back towards your body, as you curled in on yourself, and began to shake with silent sobs. 
And then Mapi read the letter. With one hand on your back, and one hand tightly clutching the paper, she read the most painful thing she’d ever laid her eyes on. It tore her apart, reading how you felt. 
And it wasn’t meant for her. It was meant for Ingrid. And, ridiculously, Mapi wished she could fix it before Ingrid ever read what you’d written. Mapi would have done anything in that moment, to make things right with you, and to make sure Ingrid never had to know how badly she had hurt you. Because realizing it would hurt the Norwegian just as much. 
Mapi ached to tell you so many things. That Ingrid loved you so much, she just wasn’t sure how to help you. That she thought what she was doing was working, helping. That she was sure Ingrid didn’t know the date, or she’d have never forgotten your birthday. That she knew Ingrid would do anything, anything in the world, to fix this. That Mapi was sure both she and Ingrid would go back in time if they could, and fix everything that had gone wrong. 
She couldn’t force that all on you now. She couldn’t defend Ingrid, or herself. 
Instead, she placed the letter carefully on the table, and sent Ingrid a very brief text. 
“You need to come home now. Everything is fine, everyone is safe, but you need to come home.”
Instead, Mapi pulled you into her lap, and held you so tight it almost hurt. 
Instead, your sister’s girlfriend, who owed you absolutely nothing, told you, over and over, how very loved you were. How proud she was of you. How her and Ingrid were going to fix everything if it killed them. 
They’d fix everything before it killed you. 
------
🙂
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celestie0 · 2 days
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what is the flow rate of gojo’s sperm? 🤔
😈 😈 😈 ALRIGHT LET’S FIND OUT
shoutout to m00tie @quinnyundertow since u said there's nothing that turns you on more than hearing how mobile a man's flagella are. this one's for you bb.
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alright, first off, because his cum is confirmed to be both incompressible fluid as well as move with laminar flow, these attributes satisfy the conditions of pouiseulle’s law:
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i had to do a little bit of research to determine if it was laminar or turbulent flow, and apparently sperm travels with both stokes & laminar flow, which is pretty interesting, and also moves in a sinusoidal propagating wave, likely due to the movements/shape of the flagella
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note: microscopic sperm travel & ejaculate fluid travel are two very different things, but i can’t solve for anything microscopic here so we’re just gonna go for the ejaculate fluid only
anyways, to use pouiseulle’s law, let’s first determine our variables, and make sure we get the units right as well! always draw a diagram w all the variables:
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now, let’s identify the variables:
1. radius (r) of tube -> this refers to the pipe/tube, therefore in this case, the vaginal canal. now since gojo has decided to creampie, we can assume that the radius of the vaginal canal will be equivalent to the radius of his girth as he is stretching you out. gege told me the diameter of his big fat schlong is approximately 3 inch girth, therefore the radius = 3/2 = 1.5 inches
2. ΔP refers to change in pressure gradient, in this case i’ve decided to have P1 as pressure at vaginal canal opening, and P2 as pressure at the end where the cervix is. therefore, ΔP = (P1 - P2) for the equation. i know you’ve got that gorilla grip coochie, esp when the world’s strongest sorcerer is fuckin you SENSELESS, but all things considered this is a very difficult parameter to measure, therefore i found this article to help out with this:
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we’re going to assume “contraction pressure” (at the vaginal canal opening) is P1, due to gojo’s intrusion. and we’re going to assume “pressure at rest” is P2 at the end near the cervix (he’s pulled out a lil bit ok this makes things easier for me)
kPa are the units that we want for ΔP in this case, therefore it’s a simple calculation:
ΔP = P1 - P2 = 41.8 kPa - 26.8 kPa = 15 kPa
3. the last variable we need to account for here is L, which is the length of the PIPE HE’S LAYIN INSIDE OF YOU (jk it’s just length of ur coochie). now, i imagine this man is a generous lover, and he’s alr made you cum a few before he stuck it inside, so with arousal, the vaginal canal length has likely increased to about 5 inches (moreso 4.75in based on avg values in research but he stretched you in even more during the sexing!!) therefore L = 5 in
4. the other two values are just constants:
π = pi 3.1415 (imma just use pi function in calc)
η = this is viscosity of a fluid. based on this research article, the viscosity of human semen is approximately 9.35 cps. we want these units in kPa•s (remember that your units need to match the units of the other variables), so we need to use density of sperm (1.043 g/ml) to convert the factor (i just used chatgpt lol) but the conversion factor is pretty similar therefore we will just plug in something close to 9.35 kPa•s (true value is a little smaller)
ALRIGHT WONDERFUL! WE HAVE DETERMINED ALL OF OUR VARIABLES :) NOW WE JUST NEED TO PLUG IT INTO OUR EQUATION/DIAGRAM:
*note: mind the units! (shown in blue) there are lots of variations on how flow rate can be shown w the units, so u wanna be careful that they match
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YAAAAY!! so the flow rate (Q) of gojo’s cum is approximately 0.63787 in^3/sec ☺️💕
use a quick converter online, and we can make it into liters per minute -> 0.02214 l/min. convert this to milliliters -> 22.14 mls
which means that, in one of gojo’s average cumshots, he cums 22.14 mls of ejaculate !!! :0 sheesh that’s a lot!!
but how does this value compare to other men? research varies, but on average, men ejaculate between 1-10mls per orgasm, therefore the world’s strongest sorcerer cums more than TWICE the worldwide average!!
and one final calculation shows us that when he finishes, it’s at about 0.369 mls per second :) that's fuckin fast!!!
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thank you for cumming to my ted talk!! byee
alr ellie out ✌🏼😖 (i have sm brainrot)
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usedpidemo · 3 days
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Stargazing (Twice Mina)
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With the way things are going, Mina’s begging for trouble. And not the usual slap of the wrist kind that celebrities get away with—the kind that’s scandalous, career damning.
She’s so close to falling apart.
And as you watch her come undone—the very image that defines her gradually disappears—you can’t help but think: she deserves this.
—————
If there’s any clear-cut takeaway, it’s this: Mina is designed to be gorgeous, and she plays the part to near perfection. 
That’s the whole point. Here’s a sea of media outlets and paparazzi, accompanied by flashing cameras and screaming fans on one side. On the other, stars and figures from different fields, all dressed to the nines and emanate a distinguishable aura. The ‘I’m better than you’ kind. No amount of modest smiles and perfectly curated PR-fluff can disguise the noxious air of celebrity on the red carpet. 
Then you look at Mina, wearing the hell out of that backless dress, designed by none other than yours truly (you). You couldn’t have asked for a better muse. She carries herself and your brand around with a confident smile—with pride—seemingly indifferent to the raucous screams telling her to look this way, that way. Wherever her profile turns, cameras illuminate the crowd in near-perfect unison. 
It’s a slow motion fashion moment. 
As if she couldn't look any prettier, she brushes her hair with a quick, delicate swipe of her hand with queenly grace. The cameras live for moments like these. It’s what goes viral online; it’s what gets social media buzzing. She’s a K-pop idol, the media will say and it’s true, but she doesn’t look out of place with the so-called elite. If anything, she blends in seamlessly, rich, quiet, and enigmatic personality and all. 
Cameras continue to follow her as she walks through the carpet. She greets a few other celebrities in the vicinity; mostly Hollywood actresses and artists before she disappears behind the steps of the building. Throughout the entire ordeal, you were never on her mind, not even during interviews, nor when she was in clear view, even though you made her what she is now. All she can think about is herself and her character. That’s how fame works.
You don’t even get a text. Your only reference is a note that reads 23:00. 
—————
The next time you see Mina is hours later, at the promised time. One slender leg enters the backseat of the vehicle. She remains mostly untouched, leaving the gala looking the same as when she entered. She’s considerate enough to wave and give a flying kiss to the crowd, who unsurprisingly, go crazy for her. It’s a convincing act. You would, too, if you weren’t always by her side for ninety percent of the day.
She breathes out this deeply relieved sigh once the door slams shut. She’s tired—of being someone else, and just exhausted in general; she’s been in front of a mirror since five in the morning and it’s almost midnight by the time the event ends. You can tell she’d rather be in her hotel suite than anywhere else.
So you drive. No words. Just hit the road and get out of there. 
Even late into the night, Paris is still bustling and lively. You don’t make it past three streets before being met by traffic ahead. It’s an agonizing crawl. The satnav says you’ll arrive at your hotel by 2:00 in the morning. Mina probably won’t make it by midnight, at this point because she’s on the verge of falling unconscious, resting her head on the door. Her heels are set on the opposite end, with her lower half resting along the edges of the backseat into a couch position.
Even when she’s asleep, she’s still gorgeous. 
“Miss?” you gently call to her, snapping her from her tired daze. She gives you a mild stare through the rear-view mirror, unable to speak.
“We’re gonna be held up by traffic. You want something to eat?” you ask, knowing she likely won’t take anything more than a handful of fries or half a burger. 
“Sure. Whatever.” Mina sounds cold, a little annoyed somewhat. The past day has been unkind to her health; she arrived at the airport yesterday after a different schedule and barely had less than five hours of rest before dedicating the entire day for a gala she had contractual obligations to attend. She couldn’t say no even if she wanted; she’s got her whole schedule curated and planned out for months. 
You have more time to get her dresses planned out and prepared out than she has to breathe.
And time is unkind to both of you right now. Traffic trogs along at a snail’s pace. The arrival time on the satnav moves further and further away. Sunrise will meet you above a red light at this rate. How anyone gets around in this city considering the number of events that are happening all at once is beyond you. You only drive through Paris a handful of times a year, all for the same reason, and you abhor the idea—let alone the experience—every single time.
It’s difficult enough to wait, especially in this late of hours, when money and careers are on the line. Even more challenging is keeping a cool head and withholding yourself from using your instincts against the trusted systems of the algorithm. Mina will call you many things. She’ll call you insane. You don’t mind; it’ll be on the lower end of insults and comments you’ve heard from the so-called ‘elite.’ 
At the end of the day, you’re just simply following orders. 
You swerve off the main road, into narrow alleys and streets that aren’t registered on any official map. Anywhere that can give you a sense of progress and hold momentum. You drive. You make liberal use of your klaxon against anything and anyone. You go around in circles, sometimes looking at the satnav if it’s kind enough to give you a shorter, quicker path. In your haste, you completely overlook the star, the celebrity you’re meant to protect and coddle like fine art, and cracks begin to form.
“Shit!” Mina fastens the seatbelt, in distress and wide awake from your uncharacteristically aggressive driving. She lifts her head. Pierces your gaze through the rearview mirror with a mixture of panic, concern, and frustration. All that hours spent in the makeup room to look perfect, down to the smallest of details, coming undone within a few minutes. 
She seemed rather proud of her appearance, too.
Of course, her demands bounce off your ears—or ring through like white noise. You only know your task. Get her safe. 
Even though it’s your very idea, you forget about the thought of eating, too. You’ve passed by a couple of McDonalds along the way, but are blinded by tunnel vision to recognize a single one. It’s not a big loss; she’s as tired of eating fast food as much as you are. It isn’t good for her image right now, either. 
Eventually, you do make it back to her hotel. A little over midnight, but still not as early as you wanted to be. You look at the status of your passenger princess. She’s about as coddled as a five year old playing with her doll. A mess.
When you open up the door for her to step out, it’s a dramatic moment that gathers everyone’s attention and fixes every eye. It’s loud. 
It also so happens to be empty in the area.
The way she slaps you in the cheek echoes throughout the valet like the sharp crack of a whip, or the pop of a firework. Fucking hell, she hits hard. For a dainty woman like Mina, she’s surprisingly strong. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snaps, cold and bitter. 
You find no mistake in what you did. In fact, you believe you’re doing her a service. Tomorrow, she’ll be at the airport and out of the country faster than when she came in. She doesn’t have to think about you for the foreseeable future. You only see a moody, ill-tempered celebrity frustrated that circumstances haven’t gone her way. Chalk it up to fatigue, but you can’t be arsed to explain yourself or react accordingly at this point.
She’s also pretty when she’s angry, you can’t help but think. Not the pouty, cute, wholesome kind—the ‘I’m gonna rip your throat’ out kind of ire. Sometimes you forget your job and admire just how gorgeous Mina is. You’re no different than the paparazzi or the average fan.
It makes her heated. You’re mentally smirking.
It would be a waste to fight over something as petty as reckless driving this late. No one got hurt; not a single traffic light or speed limit was violated. But her heart jumped a little bit when she expected the least. In her eyes, it’s a reasonable enough incident to show some attitude and assert her status over you.
But not tonight.
Instead, you take her by the wrist and lead her to the alley beside the hotel, away from potential cameras and prying eyes. She yelps, but you slip a hand around her mouth so she remains quiet. Mina is too tired to show some resistance. 
“Listen here, Miss Myoui,” you tell her, pointing your finger directly at her. “I did everything right to make sure you have a fine, comfortable experience in Paris. Did your dress, drove you around, everything. What I did was save you a few hours of sleeping in the car.  I never asked for anything from you, so don’t come acting like an ungrateful brat.”
“Fuck you.” Mina raises her palm, readying another thunderous, face cracking slap as a threat. “I could have done all that instead if I wanted to.”
“Need I remind you who made the dress that you’re wearing?”
She freezes, unable to find some form of retaliation or rebuttal.
“Thought so.”
“Well what am I supposed to do, then? Get on my knees and worship you as my lord and savior?” she asks. 
Suddenly, something clicks inside your head. An idea.
“That—” you pause, mentally noting the entire sequence in a flash, “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”
“I’m not doing it.” Mina rolls her eyes, turning her gaze away and crossing her arms. Somehow, she’s managed to recognize your intent so quickly. What isn’t surprising is her natural cleverness and intelligence. “Not tonight. Not after what you did.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s what you believe, asshole.” She shakes her head. “Just—let me go.”
“Would be such a shame if a rumor spread around then that you were spotted in the bathrooms with one of the billionaires,” you say, blunt in your threat. “Wouldn’t you hate that? I hear there was a tabloid photo of you spotted with one of the presidential candidates too—”
“You lie.” Mina’s eyes glare at you. You don’t flinch.
She’s not wrong. You’re only telling a half-truth. It’s true that there were billionaires who attended. It would be a strange event if there weren’t any present, in Paris of all places. The report of a presidential candidate showing up is legitimate as well, but that’s as much as you know as the general public. What goes on inside, you have no knowledge of.
“And what happened there was nothing at all,” she adds. “So quit trying to blackmail me and just let me fucking rest.”
“Then explain this to me.” You point at the dress she’s wearing—your dress—and find different sized patches where they shouldn’t belong. They’re not by design; they’re clearly the result of some kind of external tampering or meddling. Around where her legs should be. Near her tummy. The gala is an indoor event, yet it looks as if she had been soaked in some capacity. 
Something’s quite off.
“So?” Mina defends herself, unwilling to concede. “Got spilled by drinks, and you don’t really care if it gets ruined.”
While it’s true you usually don’t mind your dresses getting ruined, it comes at a price. “I’m not mad. And yes, I don’t care if you do fuck all with that dress. Hell, that candidate is very lucky he got to clap that—”
“Shut up!” 
By instinct, Mina slaps you again.
You chuckle. The sore redness of your cheek isn’t going to silence you. 
As she tries to walk away, you grab her by the wrist again. Pull her close to your chest. She trembles, but can’t do anything to stop or shake you loose.
“So you admit? You got fucked by that candidate?”
“No!” Mina remains adamant in her tone. She twists your grip to free herself. “Just—fucking stop already!”
“Only if you blow me. Just a quickie.”
“What? Why?”
“As remittance for the ruined dress, of course. Remember? Ruined dress, ruined cunt.” You can’t help but grin as you remind her of the terms of your agreement. It’s not written in the contract, but a mutual trust shared between you and your muses. 
Mina sighs. A deal is a deal, even if it’s not signed on the dotted line. And she has the experience to show for it. Ultimately, she reluctantly agrees, sounding defeated in her response. “Fine. But after this, we’re fucking done.”
“I’m in a bit of a good mood today, so I don’t want your pussy,” you tell the disgruntled Mina, unbuckling your belt then unzipping your pants. “Not gonna lie, the thought of some future president fucking that cunt of yours makes me sick. Get on your knees.”
God, it feels wrong, but you’re enjoying every little moment of this, down to the finer details. The look of dissatisfaction on Mina’s face. The fact you can get her flustered with your teasing. The fact she’s obediently on her knees as you whip out your hard cock directly in front of her. She can tell you as many lies as she wants, but they have no firm ground to stand on. She’s not some stuck-up star unlike many others in that gala, but even she needs to be humbled once in a while.
“His dick is better than yours, anyway. I won’t miss this pathetic piece of shit,” she tells you, gripping to the hem of your dress, dodging every attempt to slip your shaft between her lips. 
All the more reason to plunge it deep in her throat.
“Is it? This piece of shit you love to ride on?” You grab your cock and pursue her evasive mouth. You have a hand planted on her scalp, holding her still, as she begrudgingly accepts your length between her lips slowly, in a losing effort to fight back. She gulps her throat, watching as her cheeks hollow, as drool begins to coat your sensitive shaft, until eventually, her seal is vacuum-tight and tension builds up in your groin. “This cock you want to use—fuck—”
Words fail you as you become reacquainted with the warmth of Mina’s mouth. She bobs her head back and forth, slipping a hand around the base of your shaft to stroke. Your cock is poking the back of her throat, your senses relaxing at the pleasure coursing through your body. You feel yourself slipping away—at the cold, at the heat of her sweltering lips, at the layer of saliva that fills every inch of your length. It’s all too much.
This is Mina’s least favorite position. She’d rather have you beneath her most of the time, relentlessly bouncing on your cock till you’re completely drained; it’s how most encounters with her go to the point you simply give up and expect yourself on the mattress as soon as you enter her room. None of that matters now, not when she needs your very shaft to fill her thirsty, dry mouth, as a palette cleanse from the boring gala and because she needs you as much as she utterly hates you.
She doesn’t like the thought of you above her. Her eyes can’t be bothered to look up. It’s a strange dynamic; she’s the celebrity, she’s supposed to have control, not you. Your hand tugs on her black hair, begging her for more, and it reinforces the idea. You love this. Mina, the quiet, cold personality that everyone wants to be like, is zealously sucking you off and you’re helpless to how incredible she is. The suction of her throat. The drag of her tongue on your head, then on the sides. The passionate hum of satisfaction. You recognize the smug grin etched on the corner her lips while she doesn’t bother to look back, knowing full well she can take you any way she wants and you’ll fucking love it. She’s so aggressive, yet perfectly paced. 
And she moves like she can read your mind—cum and saliva dripping from the corners, her tongue running laps around your balls, her mouth devouring you entirely with each entrance. Small, whiny sounds that resemble a choke—they’re nothing compared to the echoey moans you can’t help but make. You’re gasping for air as if she’s punctured a hole in your lungs—and to an extent, she has. Your body instinctively has to remind itself they’re leaning on air, because she’s making your spine contort in ways they shouldn't be twisting. 
Mina is quite used to this. The notion of having to suck a cock. Not just yours, but fans, higher-ups in suits, all kinds. She’ll tell you yours is the best one, and you’ll believe her. You can tell by personal experience. You shouldn’t let control slip, especially now, when such power is rarely vested on you, but you can’t help yourself. There’s some urgency in handling her, but it might be a little too late. Especially when—
“Mina,” you pant, and you sound so desperate. “So close, Mina. I’m so close. I’m gonna—”
She continues to create friction, and eventually fire. Her hands wring around your balls and your base, tightening the coil of pressure in your stomach and in your veins. Spiraling further and further out of control, you can feel your legs crumble in a last ditch attempt to hold on. With your remaining resolve, you cling to whatever semblance of clarity you can find. 
And she plunges her lips further into your length. Her tongue descends lower, to the underside of your balls. None of that disdain and hate from moments ago can be found, only zeal and passion. It’s not graceful in the slightest; it goes against everything her image represents, yet she’s so damn good at it, you can’t stomach the thought of her doing something this filthy, this obscene. The very idea breaks reality. Yet here she is, on her knees, a mouth filled by cock, encouraging you to cum without uttering a single word.
So you oblige her. 
You don’t give her the decency of asking. You just pour it all over her with reckless abandon. Yanking her by the scalp, swiftly pulling yourself away in the heat of climax, blasting thick warm seed all over her pristine features, using her visage as a canvas for all your repressed thoughts. Mina welcomes every drop, sticks her tongue out with an inviting stare, unfazed by all that hot load you’re shooting directly at her. Her professionalism is practically hardwired, second nature to allow herself to be used this freely. It’s more than personal satisfaction; it also pays the bills.
It’s a win-win.
“Happy?” she asks, propping herself back on her feet, using the top of the dress to clean herself. Not a waste when it’s sole purpose is to be one and done. 
The mess around your groin—residue sticking on your pants—answers her question. You can only nod in agreement as you clumsily and slowly gather your bearings. She shakes her head, amused at your predicament, but proud of her work.
Mina acts nonchalant, walks back to the hotel while you still work through your trousers, as if nothing ever happened. As if you weren’t moaning in public about how airtight her lips are around your cock. You hurriedly follow her, only to be met with a surprise waiting just past the entrance doors.
“I hope Paris has been kind to you so far, Miss Minari, because we certainly won’t be.”
Three comically mischievous men of similar stature and appearance, in nearly identical outfits (a simple shirt, coat, jeans and beret combination, how inspired) with the most cartoonishly evil looks on their faces. They could be anyone on the street. You can immediately tell they’ve been waiting for some time.
“Who are you?” you ask, stepping in front of your client. Mina looks nervous, quietly analyzing the three suspicious characters.
“Doesn’t matter who we are, even if we tell you,” replies the middle man, matter-of-factly. “We have no intention of hurting you.”
“If that’s the case, then please step aside. Miss Mina won’t be taking any requests and she’s very tired, sorry.”
“I don’t think so, buddy.”
“What?”
“We heard everything. You lucky bastard,” says the man on the left. “I don’t think Mina seems to be tired at all. In fact, I believe she wants more of it!”
All eyes turn to the person of interest, who seems to be in denial. Mina, this cold, calculated star, appears to have a harsh, sudden reaction. Offended by the comment, she angrily retorts, “No? What the hell are you saying?”
“Yeah, you heard the guy.” The third man steps forward, the other two close behind slowly approaching her. “It’s all over you. Don’t try to deny it. You enjoyed getting blasted all over that pretty face of yours!”
The three men nod in unison. You don’t have a firearm or any weapon on hand, but you’re willing to fight all three guys, even if you meet a terrible end. That’s the likeliest outcome. Lady luck seems to have disappeared on your side, but it’s part of the job, after all.
“Relax, girl. Again, we don’t wish to hurt you or your bodyguard.” The first man, the guy assuming leadership reiterates. It’s as civil and diplomatic as it sounds, but the looming threat remains prevalent. And it doesn’t do them any favors when they creep up towards both of you like wolves. “We just want what he has.”
“And what is it?” Mina frowns, hiding herself behind you, peeking over the shoulder, trembling.
“Oh, you know what we want, Miss Minari. Give it to us and then we’ll leave you alone.”
Where’s the security in this hotel, you wonder? The ground floor is dead empty of guests, which is to be expected, there’s hardly anyone at the front desk, and there are zero guards at the valet that normally wait for the next car to pull up. It’s midnight, what did you expect? 
“Can’t I give you guys some money instead?” she pleads, desperate. She’s no longer hiding herself, but standing side by side with you. Shaking. Nervous. “Name your price and I’ll pay it.”
“I don’t think that will work, miss.” The three men remain adamant. They have you trapped against the corner of the entrance door. Neither of you can hardly move, let alone run. “We’re in Paris. We can easily rob anyone for our keep.” 
Judging by the rather expensive watches and sneakers they all sport, they seem to have a point. 
“But please, we just want one. One round with the finest Japanese idol in the business. That’s it,” the first man adds, his cohorts nodding in agreement.
Mina turns to you, calling your attention. “Hey.” You’re on high alert, waiting for the moment for hell to break loose. She merely stares. Nothing comes out of her mouth, just an expressive, seemingly strange gaze that doesn’t register anything in your head, nor does it open up any sort of interpretation. And for a while, you don’t understand what’s happening or what’s her intent. The three guys seemingly wait, shrugging whenever you eye any one of them. There’s no rush; time seems to stop at that particular moment. You know their demand; you have ears. You just don’t know if Mina is actually serious about caving to the pressure.
———���—
(And fucking hell, you’re so—so—screwed.)
You don’t know if Mina will recover after this. Specifically, her career.
Clothes scatter everywhere in the room, with no regard for cleanliness or the host’s decency. Mina is set in the middle of the mattress as its centerpiece. The star of the show. Her dress is bundled around her waist, baring her chest and legs, while every man is completely in the nude. She’s spread on her fours, with the two subordinates lined up parallel in front of her, the third right behind her. You plan to join after, when everyone’s seemingly tired, when you can have her all to yourself.
At least, that’s what you think will happen. You know she’s going to get used all night long. Mina’s bracing for impact, hoping she can walk out in one piece after this.
You’re holding your phone, ready to record every little thing that happens. It’s not by their request, but your own personal desire. You love seeing it—the notion of Mina getting her comeuppance. The two men in front of her waste no time, stroking themselves hard and slapping their cocks right into Mina’s face, spilling flecks of precum on her. You notice the giddiness in their expressions as they incline the idol’s chin up, nothing but unbridled lust on their faces. The only thing missing is hurling her around and ragdolling her.
“Such a pretty face deserves all this cum,” says the second guy. He’s on the pudgier side, evidently not meant to be in the same atmosphere, let alone the same bed as Mina. “I’ll have you know you were my bias, and you have the most numbers on my counter.”
Utterly shameless.
Meanwhile, the first guy, his colorful body filled with numerous tattoos, slaps Mina’s cheek hard. It ripples throughout her lithe figure, rattles the bed a little. She keens. He takes a moment to look at the hand that committed the sinful act. He’s shaking, in disbelief. He did that. It’s a moment in time, a monumental occasion. Anyone else in his position would be shouting in the streets, celebrating too. 
You would.
The third guy, this aged man who’s evidently in his mid-to-late forties and probably shouldn’t be consuming K-pop, continues to stroke himself to Mina’s face. Too bad her mouth can only fit one cock at a time. Her hand grabs his shaft and he grips her hair instead as she pumps him at a delicate pace. Their collective moans fill the room as each person assumes a position around Mina’s sensitive holes, filling them hastily. No technique, no patience whatsoever. 
It’s pornographic for all the wrong reasons. How it all came to be. The setup. The characters. The very scene itself. Down to the shitty camera recording. Not befitting of an idol such as Mina. It’s got its own charm, but for the most part, it's as disgusting as you imagined. You can’t believe she’d agree to this. At the same time, you can’t look away. It’s a car crash that you know is gonna happen, yet all you can do is watch helplessly—and stroke yourself hard to.
All three men have different rhythms in which they fuck Mina. Tattoos slowly pounding at her dripping cunt, accompanying each deep thrust with a loud smack of her ass. His one hand grabbing at the hem of whatever’s left of her dress, itching to rip it off. Mina’s moan is suppressed by Pudge’s cock protruding through her throat. A fistful of hair in his grip, the other on her flushed, reddened cheek. Expecting her to take his relentless rhythm, only for her gag with each pump into her airtight lips. As if he doesn’t know how giving head works. The oldest man loosens up, lets his body hang as Mina strokes his cock with her ironclad fingers, letting flecks of cum spread over her neck and her shoulders, content with letting her handle him how she wants. 
In a way, it’s admirable seeing Mina like this. Three cocks and all, her commitment to fanservice and satisfaction is any fan’s dream for their idol. You’ve seen it firsthand before, how she attends to each fan one by one, but to handle multiple without a single complaint is quite the accomplishment. She’s gonna take it, and she’s going to love it.
And in fact, she does. You’ve never seen her this dedicated and into pleasuring anyone. How she uses her other hand to seize Pudge’s cock, spitting and licking the head, setting him ablaze. Even as the man with the tattoos begins to wreck into her sopping cunt, foregoing leisure for speed—as her whines echo throughout the room—she maintains her composure the best she can. Even begging him to go harder, which he obliges. The bed’s quaking, seemingly closer to collapse, as the man screams to the ceiling, “Fucking tight—so close—cumming—aah—”
All three men are clinging to Mina in some capacity. On her waist, using her hair, or her shoulders—as they all appear close to their climaxes. Their collective groans of pleasure make this evident noise that warrants numerous calls of disturbance or concern. Imagine the commotion when the staff called in to investigate eventually finds out. The notion spurs Mina as she leans further into it—looks right into the camera as she licks up Pudge’s underside. As if demanding you to take the best shot of her while doing it. 
It’s scandalous—the way Mina uses her expressions to make herself look good even under duress. How she winks, sticks her tongue, twists her face into lewder and lewder reactions while the three men who seemingly have power over her, now fold under her control. If only you could step in and be a part of the show, but you can’t.
And she looks even better with cum all over her.
The three guys moan in unison for dramatic effect. As if it was part of the intended shot. One after the other, each man reaches their own orgasm and blasts their hot load onto some part of Mina’s body. None of them seem to find their way into what they initially wanted, which is her holes. Mostly—tattoos man is partly into a deep thrust when he meets his abrupt end, only filling part of her cunt with his seed before deciding to pull out and throbs onto her back, her legs instead. Pudge gets most of her face, which she happily accepts. But even with her mouth wide open, he can hardly land his cum onto her sweet lips. As for the old man, he was never a factor to begin with. He had spilled his cum on the side, on the shoulder, on some hair, on her fingers. He was done before the others even finished.
What an unexpected sight. 
You stand from the couch you’ve been sitting on, close in on the aftermath of their orgasms, watching as they stand lifeless around the centerpiece that is Mina, running her fingers over all the cum spilled on her body. This is child’s play to her, yet the most surprising thing is: she wasn’t expecting any of the three guys to finish this soon, let alone all three of them. She has this unsatisfied look in her eyes observing her conduits, the supposed ‘threats,’ as if they didn’t live up to her expectation.
“Did I look good?” she asks you, tilting up, resting her head on her palm.
You show her the phone, speed past the raw footage. She watches like she’s the director—which she kind of is.
“Mm—not good enough,” she adds, grabbing the phone and grabbing a tripod from the bedside drawer. “Set it up over there and do it again. They’re not leaving this until they get it right. And you’re gonna show them the way.”
Looking at their tired, exasperated faces, they’d rather be anywhere but here. 
As for Mina, she’s the most energetic you’ve seen her in a while, eager for more—and you’re gonna have to make some phone calls explaining why she isn’t at the airport by morning. 
—————
(A/N: woo missed another deadline/date but happy birthday Mina! By request/commission, so thank you for waiting and I hope it was to your liking. I do agree we need more subby Mina but in the end she owns all of us let's be real XD Thank you for reading!)
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aventureen · 3 days
Text
Unfinished Staccato / Slave!Aventurine x Reader
A/N : I had made a continuation due to high demand and also came up with a title when I uploaded this on AO3 earlier OwO)
WARNING : NOT CANON COMPLIANT, written before 2.1 release, So much fluff, Reader once again spoiling him, psychological trauma, mentions of PTSD (Aventurine), SHOPPING EPISODE BASICALLY
Word Count : 1,8K
Previous Chapter : Part One
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“Here it is!” You came back not too long after. He turns his head to your direction, feeling curious. You brushed his bangs away, taking a good look at his eyes. Your pupils dilated at the realization. They're so pretty. 
You can't help but to get hypnotized by his pink eyes. There's a blue ring adorning his pupil and your mouth slightly gaped at the sight. You never really got the chance to see his eyes up close, but you can see why he's unique and people must've known how to differentiate his race from the others. Aventurine seems like he's too anxious to say anything. After all, compared to what people did to him, what you did is way more tame. He likes the way your hand brushes softly against him. 
“Is there anything wrong, ma'am?” You got snapped out of your trance and you chuckled nervously. 
“Ah- sorry for being rude! It's just… your eyes are so beautiful!” You beamed at him. Aventurine did not expect that at all. He curses his eyes a lot because it brings him to an endless misfortune that was downed to him, he never really thinks that someone is going to heartfully compliment it. His silence alerts you and you suddenly feel stupid. His sigonian eyes is what brings him here in the first place. 
“I'm sorry! Oh aeons I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend you- that's so insensitive of me-” You moved back from him but he cuts you before you can blame yourself further. 
“--Thank you,” You finally stopped. Did he just-
“I know you mean well…” Aventurine smiles for the first time during his stay and you had the urge to put on the sunglasses because damn, his smiling face fucking glows like the sun. You smiled back, giving him his sunglasses. 
“Alright! Let's get you some clothes!”
You took him inside your vehicle before you skillfully drove your beloved car, taking him to the city's center. Aventurine is pretty much tense, his hands groping his poor trousers. He's chewing the insides of his cheek as the last time he were to ride a car, he was thrown inside the trunk. You took a glance on him at the red lights and managed to talk to him to lighten up the mood, 
“Are you alright? You looked nervous,”
“I'm just…-” He was about to tell you about some things that's bothering his mind but he's too scared at the idea of you, noting his weakness to ruin him somewhere in the future. 
“-cold. That's all, ma'am,” 
“Why don't you say so?!” you turned down the A/C before focusing back on the road. Now that he had said it, Aventurine tried to relax his body and he finally succeeded. He still doesn't get why you're so attentive towards him though, it feels sickeningly pleasant to him he doesn't know how to regulate his emotions. He responds better to negative treatments after all. It seems that the best option for Aventurine now is to enjoy it while it lasts. 
The two of you arrived in the shopping district in no time. Aventurine is not sure if you want him to stay in the car or not when you walk out, so he stays like the obedient slave he is. Only for you to open the door for him and he almost jumped from his seat. 
“Why aren't you going out? We're looking for clothes for you!” he was in a dazed state before you gently grabbed his hand to help him up. You locked your car and went on the task at hand. You're practically skipping on your way to one of the boutiques while he nervously follows behind you like a lost puppy. 
“Is there any shop that catches your interest?”
“I'm… not quite sure, ma'am. I haven't been in one and I'll trust your judgment that you know where the most affordable ones are.”
“Hmmm… in that case,” You linked your arm with his and you dragged him to the most expensive looking one. He audibly gasped and his face went pale. You must be joking. Or at least you must've been teasing him. But no, you went in and asked one of the waiters where the man section's at. You must be crazy! 
“Ma'am, I don't think this store is suitable for me-”
“I thought you trusted my judgment, Aventurine?” You gave him a sly smirk and he cannot argue with that. You looked around with him. If you hadn't linked your arm in his he would've stayed on the entrance. 
“Anything that catches your attention? Anything you like?”
“I'm not sure that I can have this, ma'am,” 
“Of course you can! I make the rules here!” You let yourself free and grabbed their teal shirt. It had excellent tailored work and the cloth feels nice against your skin. The waiter also follows you around to assist you. Aventurine is literally squirming behind you, hoping that you won't buy him anything from this shop. Three of these things could literally cost him himself. 
“You should try this one,” the worker is holding the piece for you while you look around the shop once again. Aventurine didn't say anything as he feared that if he speaks again you'll end up getting more things for him. After a few minutes of hopping around the displays, you ended up with a set of clothes. A teal shirt, and a set of black suit and dress pants. Aventurine had a massive existential crisis at your behavior and he cannot possibly follow your ways of thinking. He had his ways of calculating one's behavior but you're just so out of his league. 
“I think that's all for now! Where's your dressing room?” The waiter showed you the way and they left the two of you alone by your request. Even the dressing room is so spacious. 
“You try these on and let me see the results, okay? I'll wait outside,” He can't do anything but nod at your request. He had miscalculated everything. It seems that you're way more terrifying than his previous owners in a way. 
Aventurine carefully takes off his sunglasses, taking his time in changing. He wouldn't want to damage these expensive shits. He can see your foot walking away from the dressing room's front and he got anxious. 
Are you going to leave him alone here? 
That would make a very cruel joke but he can take it, maybe. The blond tried to brush off his negative thoughts and managed to put on the coat. They all fit his figure so perfectly. He can't help but to look at the full body mirror in front of him. His mind cannot comprehend the view as he feels like his value had increased tenfold. A small knock cuts him off his thoughts. 
“Are you done? I want to see!!” he groggily opens the lock and peeks his head out to see you holding a pair of gloves. So you were just strolling around earlier. 
You opened the door and gasped at the view. 
“No way! I thought I had good taste but man, you nailed it so bad!” You grabbed his hand to put on the gloves. You took another look at him and he felt judged under your gaze. Moving closer to him, you undo the top buttons on his shirt, styling it and brushes some of his hair away from his forehead. You tried to ruffle his hair to give it a little bit more volume before you stepped back, inspecting your work. Perfection. 
“Oh you should really see yourself!” you turned his body to look back at the mirror and his eyes widened. He looks nothing like a slave. Smiling widely at your magnum opus, you nudged him a bit. 
“A smile will do the trick,” 
“Ma'am-”
“Come on, we both know you're handsome so do me a little favor won't you?” he unconsciously smiled at your compliment. That's it. He smiled at the mirror reflecting himself and you chuckled delightfully. 
“We're buying everything!”
“Ma'am please-”
“I know you liked it!” You marched your way to the cashier and he's not sure what to do. Should he take off his clothes? He stayed in the dressing room like a mannequin before you came back with a shopping bag. 
“Save that rag here, you're going out with this look!” you helped him put on his glasses back and he complied, holding the bag and stuffing it with his previous clothes. 
“Now we should look for cozier clothes too! You'll spend most of your time at home so it'll be very much necessary,”
“This is too much, ma'am-”
“Of course not! You just came here and we're not going home until we have everything you need!” you linked your arm with his again and you lead the way to the next destination. 
After a few stops, Aventurine had his arms full of shopping bags from various stores. Just how many credits had you spent on him?! It just doesn't count! 
Deciding that it's enough for the day, the two of you headed back to the car. It was morning when you came here and now the sun is already setting outside. On the way back home, Aventurine cannot shrug off the way you dozed so frequently when he's idle. When you're having lunch with him, you just eat like three spoons of your meal before your face falls flat on the table. Even after he's done with his meal you're still soundly asleep. Maybe you're tired yourself last night. He starts to wonder what you could've been doing but then again, he's not in his place to question your behavior. 
Back at home, you helped him with his wardrobe, cleaning the storage before placing his newly bought attires. 
“I'm gonna change, I think you can manage it yourself from here!” You excused yourself out of his room and he continued his task at hand. He had changed to a more comfortable clothes and he couldn't help but to stare at the suit you bought him, hanging so proudly on his hanger. Aventurine pinches his cheek to check that he's currently dreaming but it hurts so, wow, what a day. 
A few times passed before there's another knock on his door. He opened the door to see you now looking more fresh, with another set of fancy clothes adorning your form. Are you going out again? 
“I'm heading out again tonight. Sorry I can't make you dinner but there are some ingredients inside the fridge so you should be able to whip something up! I'll lock the door and don't wait for me!” You walked away from his room. He hadn't had the chance to ask anything but you had left the house in no time. Your car's engine blares before it's all quiet again. 
He tried to guess your job but came up with nothing. Nothing pleasant, at least. But he'll wait some other time to ask you about it. It hasn't been more than two days yet his plan to terminate you is now long gone.
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Can you guess Reader's job? ;) Also will you be interested if I turned this one into a series? Please let me know! I would like some feedbacks too if it's possible <3
If you like my work, consider tipping me on ko-fi! Thank you for reading!
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harryspet · 1 day
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bambi eyes (6) r.cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, DUBCON, dd/lg, sugar daddy rafe, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression. little editing, barry doing barry things 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: Enjoy!
word count: 4.5k
In which your Daddy finally takes you to the country club.
masterlist
You were reading—slowly but surely. You took each sentence of the chapter book word by word, sounding out each syllable until it made sense to you. With a pink highlighter, you marked over every word you didn’t know the meaning of. You’d ask Rafe about those later or spend some time flipping through the dictionary. You flipped around in the cloud of linens you called a bed, attempting to find another comfortable position. You were reading about a girl with cat-like superpowers and the adventures she went on with her pet cats. 
Lana had told you about all the stray cats she feeds out by her house and how a lot of them will let her pet them once they’ve been around her long enough. You’ve been doing your absolute best to stay on Rafe’s good side, knowing the next thing you’d ask him was if he’d let you get a cat. You knew there were plenty out there that needed good homes, just like you did at one point. 
You didn’t ask him to take you anywhere unless he invited you. And after that lady had that outburst at the grocery store with him, his invites became less frequent. Every week, he took you to ballet practice and straight home. You reminded yourself to be grateful even for that experience since it kept your boredom at bay. When your Daddy called, you came straight away. When he told you to stay in your room, you stayed. When he held your wrist so hard that they bruised, you kept tears from escaping your eyes. When he brought you a present, you thanked him with your words and happily with your mouth. 
A knock at your door caused you to sit up straight. You didn’t ever need to respond with “come in,” as the knock was just a warning that he was coming in, not a request. Rafe eyed you, the crinkles in his eyes letting you know he needed sleep before he looked down at his expensive gold watch. “If I’m not mistaken, I was invited to a one-o’clock tea party and lunch, and my host has yet to retrieve me.”
You palmed your face, your cheeks heating up. “I lost track of time, sorry.” You closed your book, stood, and straightened out your short gingham dress, “Everything should be ready though. Bunny is dressed. I just need help carrying all the guests.”
Before you could leave your book on the bed, Rafe said, “Bring it. I want you to read me somethin’.”
You agreed although the idea made you nervous. You grabbed Bunny, who was dressed in a matching gingham outfit, and then directed Rafe over to your mountain of stuffed animals. Impressively, he grabbed the six stuffed animals in one fell swoop, “Got ‘em, let’s go.”
Now that it was starting to get nicer outside, Lana suggested turning your tea parties into picnics on the front lawn. She’d laid out a floral linen sheet and placed a beautiful flower centerpiece in the middle, along with a wicker basket. You took your stuffed animals one by one from Rafe’s hand, placing them perfectly along the edge of the sheet, “And you sit here, Daddy,” You directed him and waited for him to get comfortable, “I’ll go get the sweet tea and finger sandwiches!” 
“Don’t run!” Rafe shouted after you as you hurried back into Tannyhill. As soon as you were out of his line of sight, you picked up your speed, looking to find Lana. 
You found Lana in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the array of desserts, “These look beautiful, Lana!” You exclaimed as she finished piping pink icing onto the cupcakes. You opened the fridge to grab the pitcher of sweet tea. “Did you make sure to add extra lemons? He really likes extra lemons-“ 
“Yes, I did, I know,” Lana responded, “Don’t be so worried, it’s just Rafe.” 
You set the pitcher on the counter, taking a deep breath, “He wants to hear me read my book, Lana.”
“So? You’ve been doing so well in our lessons! You sound great to me when you’re reading and you’re only going to get better. The long, fancy words will come later,” She lifted the tray of sandwiches and desserts and you took it into your hands, “You’re a smart girl.” 
“I am?” Lana smiled warmly, making sure you were carefully holding both the pitcher and tray. 
“Yes, you are,” She assured you, “Go enjoy your lunch. Afterward, you’ll help me with the laundry, right?”
You beamed back at her, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.” 
When you made your way back to the front lawn, Rafe was where you left him but his phone was pressed to his ear. As soon as he saw you, he said, “---Everyone has dirt. Everyone has a weakness. Find it. I gotta go, I really don’t want to hear about this shit again.”  You carefully set down the tray and pitcher, Rafe having intense conversations over the phone having become very natural to you. 
Rafe let out an annoyed breath, setting his phone down, “Doesn’t it look delicious, Daddy?” You asked, cutting through the tension. 
Rafe nodded, “It does. This is the highlight of my day,” He admitted, “You’re the highlight of my day, Bambi.” 
Your nervousness slowly turned into eagerness as Rafe looked at you. He always looked at you like you were something precious, even if you felt the opposite, and you found that you could easily be yourself around him. Although it seemed you were figuring out who you were every day that you were at Tannyhill. 
You poured Rafe’s drink into an antique-looking glass, one that Lana had entrusted you with taking care of, “Made just how you like it,” You handed it to him and promptly began to hand out the rest of the dishware, making sure Bunny and your stuffed animals had tiny replicas of them. With small tongs, you carefully placed sandwiches on your and Rafe’s plates, “I like pickles now. They aren’t so bad.”
“Oh, thank God,” Rafe responded with his mouth full, already halfway through his first sandwich, “I was really worried there for a second.”
You giggled, “You were worried?”
“I was as soon as you tried one and said you didn’t like it,” Rafe said, which made you laugh more, “This just confirms you’re perfect. And open-minded. And beautiful.”
“Me liking pickles means that I’m beautiful.” You were trying to follow his logic, your cheeks heated in embarrassment, but he interrupted you with a messy kiss.
As you finished up lunch, you found yourself entangled with Rafe, your legs over his lap and leaning against his chest as you opened up your book. You hoped starting with chapter one would make it easier, knowing you’d read it at least five times this morning. Luckily, you now had someone who could tell you the meaning of the words you had the most trouble with. Rafe used the strategy of not only defining the word but using it in an example sentence. 
“Ill-u-min-ate.”
“Every time you walk into a room, you illuminate it with your beauty.” 
“Haz-ar-dous.”
“It would be very hazardous to get between me and my Bambi.”
“Fuh-ruh-strat-ed.”
“Seeing you naked gets me extremely frustrated.”
“I thought you said it meant to angry,” You countered, and you could feel him grinning. 
“Words can mean different things,” He spoke cryptically, “Hey, you know, I’m really impressed with your reading, Bambi.”
You straightened up and turned to look at him, “You mean it?”
“I’m really proud of you,” he nodded. “I wasn’t sure if Lana could help you all on her own, but I think you’re making good progress.” 
You wrapped your arms around him, immediately needing to physically express your satisfaction, your weight effectively toppling the two of you over. Pride was a new feeling that you were getting used to. “Does this mean I could go to a real school? Like in the movies? Maybe law school? Like Elle Woods?” You straddled Rafe, his hands gently exploring the backs of your thighs.
“Are you talking about Legally Blonde?” Rafe’s eyebrows raised, his eyes undoubtedly flashing to a past memory, probably related to his sisters, “Did Lana show you that?”
“It was really good,” You nodded, “How far away is Stanford?”
“Far,” Rafe stated, and you got the feeling he wasn’t explaining as much as he could, “Let’s not  — uh, let’s focus on just reading a chapter book. Once you’re reading like Shakespeare and shit, we can talk about college.” 
“Okay,” You agreed, pressing your nose to his, “How many books do I have to read before we get a kitty cat, Daddy?”
“I see what you did there,” Rafe stared you down. You gave him a mischievous look as you pressed your lower half closer to his. “I think Daddy’s going to need a lot of convincing on that idea as well.”
Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt Rafe’s fingers trailing over your panties, “What can I do to convince you, Rafey?”
You saw the lust in his eyes. That was one nickname he seemed to like even more than Daddy. “Slide those panties to the side and take Daddy’s cock out.”
“But the guards–” You rushed out, and Rafe’s grip tightened on your thighs. 
“You didn’t seem to mind when you climbed on top of me,” Rafe countered, “C’mon, you have to finish what you started, little girl.”
After those words, you tried to ignore the idea of one of Rafe’s men catching a glimpse of what the two of you were doing. You did as Rafe said but as timidly and covertly as possible, sliding your panties to the side and then undoing his zipper. Like Rafe had taught you before, you spit into your hand, rubbing the liquid against your hole and using the rest to lubricate his tip. 
You looked Rafe in the eyes before he could command you to, and Rafe gave you the same proud look that he had on his face when he complimented your reading skills. Rafe sat up on his hands, and as you placed him against your entrance, you made sure the skirt of your gingham dress was fully covering your ass. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you slowly enveloped every inch of him. 
You whimpered into his ear, already feeling overwhelmed. Your thighs burned as you tried to move up and down his length, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were doing it wrong. You and Rafe didn’t often have sex in this position, and if you did, Rafe would just end up pinning your hips in place and thrusting up into you. In this position, you were almost in complete control, and it made each sensation feel even more heightened. 
“Grind into me,” Rafe spoke huskily, “It’ll feel better that way.”
You started to roll your hips against him, and instantly you felt something building within you. With that motion, you could feel your clit rubbing against him. As you controlled the speed and how deep he was inside of you, you adjusted it entirely to your liking, and it surprised you how good you made yourself feel, “You gonna make yourself cum on my cock, Bambi?”
You gave him a shaky nod, “Y-Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Cum for me.”
You whimpered into his ear, suddenly burning up even though you were directly under the sun. “Thank you, thank you,” you muttered breathlessly. “Thank you, Rafey.”
“Look at you,” Rafe said, “My grateful little girl is squeezing me so good. Keep going, baby.”
Rafe squeezed you tightly in his arms like he was hugging you as you felt him fill your insides. “Fuck,” Rafe grunted in your ear, “Didn’t know you were so good at that.”
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Rafe was doing something he promised himself he’d never do. 
Maybe this would’ve been an option at the beginning of their relationship when he wasn’t so attached. The idea of doing this now … every fiber of his being was telling him that this was wrong. “Everybody has a weakness. You told me that, right? I did some digging. Some super fucking deep digging,” Barry had started. 
Atlantic Crest Properties is one of Cameron Development’s biggest rivals both on the island and the mainland. Nathaniel Sterling, the CEO, was one of Ward’s closest friends, but since his death, Rafe had struggled to maintain Nathan’s favor. In fact, he disliked Rafe so much that he was purposely starting to poach Cameron Development’s construction laborers and spreading misinformation about the company’s financial status. 
Rafe had worked hard to dig the company out of debt, and Sterling was preventing future investors from giving the company a chance, “There’s this high-end bar on the mainland that he always visits, placed called the Platinum Parlor. This guy is there every weekend, at least. One of my boys tells me that the place is basically a front for a swingers club. They won’t let you in unless you’re a member, and there’s like secret codes you use to, you know, get access to what you’re looking for.”
“Get to the point, please.”
“Basically, he’s a freak. He always asks for a girl named Venus. My boy was telling me this, and I realized I knew that girl; she used to buy from me. I rode over there looking for her before her shift started, and I offered her some powder for some information. She couldn’t tell me everything, but he’s shown her videos of him doing some stuff, and he always asks that she wear pigtails, a plaid skirt, glasses, the whole school-girl look …” Rafe listened as Barry delved further into all the debauchery he’d heard. 
“...what are you implying, Barry?”
“I’m trying to say you have the perfect tool to solve yo’ problem. This is the only thing the dude gets off on, and I know his wife ain’t home dressing up for him. You have the most innocent girl in the world, and she actually likes wearing her hair in pigtails.”
“I know you’re not telling me I should let him fuck her–”
“No, no, Rafe! I’m saying that you can let him think that he can for as long as you need him to. That’s your in.”
“Fuck, I don’t wanna do that.”
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing you’ve ever done, country club.”
Barry was right about that. 
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You liked the way the Kooks dressed, and they all seemed to exude happiness. They matched and coordinated every piece of their outfits, and even the ones playing sports had at least one piece of expensive-looking jewelry on. 
Rafe’s black polo and khaki shorts were nicely pressed, and he looked every bit like a seasoned golfer. He also gripped the golf cart’s wheel in one hand, carefully and quickly navigating the expansive green course. 
After you made your first stop, Rafe started by showing you the basics of acting as his caddy. He pointed at the clubs he would most likely be using and made you practice grabbing them. He also placed you in charge of keeping up the scorecard, slowly explaining all the numbers you were meant to help keep track of. You quickly learned this was a more complicated game than you imagined, and you weren’t sure how much fun it would actually be to play it.
Still, you were overjoyed that Rafe had even invited you out of the house to the country club, of all places. You spent a total of two hours deciding what to wear that morning until Rafe ultimately made the decision for you, choosing a short-sleeve, collared white dress. He also helped you tame your hair into two high ponytails wrapped in pink bows. As soon as you saw how cute you looked, you made sure to ask Rafe if they made golf dresses in Bunny’s size. 
You watched intently as Rafe stepped up to the first tee, positioning his feet and adjusting his grip on the club with practiced ease. With a smooth swing, he sent the ball soaring through the air, landing neatly on the fairway with a satisfying thud.
“Wow,” Your mouth hung open as you watched, “That was amazing, Rafey!”
“You wanna try it?” 
Hands behind your back, you nervously stepped closer, “Relax,” Rafe said, “I’m gonna help you.”
The actual golf club was much heavier than you were expecting and probably too tall for you, but Rafe adjusted your position accordingly. You felt him pressed against your back, his strong arms enveloping your frame and his hands wrapped around yours. “You’re always going to start with a tight grip, and then it’s all about your stance.” Rafe placed his leg between yours, kicking your feet apart until they were about shoulder-lengths apart, “Bend your knees for me, sweet girl.” 
“This feels … hazardous,” You tried and you felt Rafe’s chest vibrate as he chuckled. 
He stepped back from you, “Try bizarre,” You nodded, mouthing the word quietly, but kept your stance, “But you look great. Now, for the backswing. When you swing, you’re going to keep your arms straight and shoulders relaxed, and I want you to turn your upper half until the club is all the way back.”
You tried to follow his list of instructions, but Rafe ended up grabbing ahold of you again to demonstrate the motion, “You’re going to let the club flow naturally through the ball,” He guided you until you were ready to entirely give it a go, “You got this, Bambi.”
You obeyed Rafe’s final instruction and were surprised that you actually hit the ball, although it landed about five feet in front of you. “Look!” you jumped from excitement. 
“You did it,” Rafe grinned, “Wanna try again?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but your voice trailed off as another golf cart approached. Instinctively, you closed the gap between you and Rafe. 
“Mr. Cameron!” An older gray-haired man, maybe in his 50s, approached, grin hidden partially by a thick mustache, “So lovely of you to grace this fine club with your presence after so many years.”
His deep and commanding voice soon matched his stature as he climbed out of the cart. A shorter, younger man was riding in the passenger side. A gold name tag was pinned to the left side of his chest. “Mr. Sterling,” Rafe greeted back, and you looked up to see a tight, slightly painful grin on his lips. “From what I’ve heard, you frequent this place a little too much. Do they have a reserved parking spot for you yet?”
Mr. Sterling let out a pinched laugh.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” 
It was then that the tall man made deep, soul-searching eye contact with you, “Bambi, this is Nathaniel Sterling. He owns Atlantic Crest Properties, which operates here on the island. Nathaniel, this is my girlfriend, Bambi.”
Nathaniel reached out a hand, and you officially felt you’d been thrown into the spotlight. You hadn’t interacted with anyone outside of Tannyhill or your ballet class. Rafe nodded slightly, signaling that it was okay to accept his hand. The man’s grip was strong and calloused.
“It’s nice to meet you, Bambi,” He greeted you. 
“Hi,” You spoke softly, “You do work like Rafe does?”
“Oh, yes, and much better, sweetheart,” You smiled, believing he was trying to make a joke, “I saw your swing on the way up. With some more practice, I can see you becoming a pretty good player.”
“Really?” Your eyes widened. 
“Rafe’s gonna have to get you your own set of clubs,” Nathaniel smirked. “Or maybe you can have my daughter’s since she only uses them sparingly anymore.”
“That would be–” The words came out faster than you could stop them, “That’s a really kind offer, Mr. Sterling.” 
You looked up at Rafe, excited by the offer, “I’m sure I can afford a new set,” Rafe stated. 
“Anyways,” Mr. Sterling coughed to clear the tension, “If the two of you aren’t too exhausted after your game, you should join me at the Steakhouse for an early dinner. Why waste the opportunity for us to catch up.”
You got a similar feeling to when you were around Barry and Rafe, like the two of them were having a conversation with their eyes. Mr. Sterling seemed intimidating, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted to see more of this place. 
“Sound good,” Rafe agreed, which you were grateful for, “We’ll see you there.”
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After playing a few more holes and Rafe finishing your crash course on golf, he started showing you around. There were two Olympic-sized pools, a spa, daycare, and gym, and they even offered horse rides along the beach on special occasions. The two of you explored a women’s boutique—well, you explored it while Rafe had a conversation over the phone with Barry. You noticed Mr. Sterling’s name come up a few times but became distracted when you saw the perfect dress. 
Although you thought Rafe might say it was too fancy for dinner, Rafe immediately called the attendant over so you could try it on. It was princess style, with short sleeves tied with cream-colored ribbons and a skirt flowing out in three tiers. The attendant helped you into the corset, and you were practically locked in by the time you showed Rafe. 
He was already leaning against the payment counter, black card in hand. “We’ll take it; she’s going to wear it out,” he said as you twirled around. “You want anything else?”
“No,” You spoke breathlessly. “This is perfect. Thank you, Rafe!”
Rafe entwined his fingers with yours and held your hand throughout the entire walk to the restaurant. You found Mr. Sterling waiting for you at a table in the corner of the restaurant, with large windows on either side of him that looked out onto the beach. As he waved you over, Rafe leaned down to whisper to you, “You don’t have to say anything or answer any question you don't want to.” 
“Okay,” You said softly, knowing he was just looking out for you. 
“Rafe, Bambi,” He said as the two of you approached. You took the seat closest to the window after Rafe pulled it open for you, “How was the rest of your game?”
Despite the words he just told you, Rafe looked at you first as if he wanted you to answer, “It was really good,” You replied, trying to maintain a certain level of confidence, “I learned a lot and, uhm, the weather was just really perfect today.”
“I agree, it’s a beautiful day, and let me also say how beautiful you look in your dress, Bambi,” You had to glance away, a reflexive gesture to hide the embarrassed gesture that reached your face. You smiled despite the fact that your face was trembling, “It’s new?”
“Y-Yes, thank you. That’s—" You remembered the menu sitting on the table in front of you, and then you realized you were far too nervous at that moment to try to read it. “Do they have ice cream here?” you blurted out. 
Rafe’s lips parted, but Nathaniel interrupted, “I think you’ll be quite happy with the dessert selection. Order whatever you like,” You felt Rafe’s hands suddenly on your thigh. He was trying to hide how tense was, but it wasn’t working. 
When the waiter approached, Rafe ordered for you, which you were grateful for: chicken fingers, mac and cheese, and apple juice. He then went ahead and ordered you a dessert called strawberry crunch ice cream cake. 
Rafe and Nathaniel bantered for a while about business and things related to Kildare that you didn’t fully understand. For the most part, you focused on enjoying your food and addressing Nathaniel whenever he addressed you. Some of your nervousness washed away because the man seemed to smile and laugh in reaction to every word that you said as if you were the most amusing thing in the world. 
Halfway through the dinner, you leaned over to whisper in Rafe’s ear. 
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“I need to go potty.”
Rafe nodded before pointing across the restaurant where he knew the bathroom was, “It’s over there. Go straight there and come back, please,” Rafe felt you squeeze his hand before you got up from your seat. 
Usually, he’d love to watch you walk away, but his eyes were entirely fixed on Nathaniel, who was watching you intently. 
“She’s quite … cute,” the man said sincerely, as if he were thinking deeply. “She’s so pure … hard to believe she was a whore when you found her.”
Rafe squinted, nodding his head, “She was never a whore, Nathaniel.”
“She knows how to fuck, doesn’t she?” 
“She comes from unfortunate circumstances, yes, but I’d appreciate it – greatly – if you didn’t call her that,” Rafe tone was sharp as he leaned closer, elbows on the table, “I really want to work something out with you, Nathaniel, but you’re not going to treat me like I’m just Ward’s son. I want something from you, and you want something from me. I’ll respect you if you treat me the same.”
“You’ve grown attached,” Nathaniel seemed to brush off Rafe’s intensity, “I apologize. Really, I’ve spent a short time with her, and I’m already quite enamored. I admire you, Rafe. You’ve trained her quite nicely.”
“She’s a good girl,” Rafe tried to set his emotions aside, and the feelings he had about you that seemed to make him go crazy. He needed to be cold. He needed to be the Rafe who’s able to pull a trigger and not feel any remorse, “She’s under tight lock and key. She’s under my watch, and I know exactly where she is 24/7.”
“Cameras?” Nathaniel’s interest peaked. 
“In her playroom,” Rafe shrugged.
“Huh,” The man’s jaw clicked, “I want pictures and videos, at the very least.”
This is what Rafe wanted but he couldn’t help but feel pause. The man in front of him was desperate. He could own Nathaniel with the knowledge he was giving up and the secrets that you could probably draw from in. It was dangerous involving you, but what Barry said was true, you were going to open doors for him. 
“At the very least?”
“Yeah, everything after that we can negotiate.”
Rafe could only think for a minute because you were happily skipping back towards the table. Your hands were cradled together, open towards him and holding peppermints, “Look, Rafe, they had a whole bowl of free mints in the bathroom,” You chirped, “I’m going to save some of these for Lana if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, baby, that’s fine.” Rafe smiled at you. “I was just telling Nathaniel about the amazing tea parties you like to throw.”
As you plopped down in your seat, your princess-style dress puffing up and then deflating like a balloon, your eyes widened. “It’s really fun!” you added. “Next time, I want to paint tea-cup handles. You should come, Mr. Sterling. Is that okay?”
The two men exchanged glances before Nathaniel narrowed his eyes back on you, running a hand over his face to smooth down his mustache, “That sounds delightful, sweetheart.”
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reblog with a comment letting me know what you think to be added to my tag list!
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Human Shield - F1 Grid
Request from @kissjde - omg that one vid of the girl using carlos as a shield kinda for when they were spraying champagne🫠 can u like somehow make a fic of that??
I think you wanted a Carlos fic, but I kind of have an idea for an F1 grid fic that I think would be perfect for this. So...sorry if you hate it 🥴
Red Bull driver!reader
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Y/n swallows as she gets into the Red Bull cockpit.
She's been in the car for testing but in Bahrain but they'd altered things for the first race weekend based on data and feedback thanks to testing.
Taking it out on the track for a proper race weekend is scary.
Helmut took a risk with y/n. He insisted she could handle the mature team after test driving some FP1 sessions last season. But now it's the real thing.
Now she's in the Red Bull and going out on track to really prove herself.
"You got this, love." Her mechanic, Eric smiles patting the top of her helmet before helping strap her in. "Remember, just have fun. You're here living the dream."
"You think?" She jokes but the nerves spiking in her voice just earns her a sympathetic look.
Suddenly when she is face with another helmet leaning into her cockpit.
Max has been weirdly protective over y/n, she's faced a lot of backlash almost similar to his. But hers is very much gender targeted just as much as a question of her experience. But he's been incredibly protective and he always tries to make sure that she's not letting her nerves get the better of her.
"I wanted to come say. I want to see you smiling out there and I'll be able to tell." Max states patting her bicep which makes her smile and nod at him.
Max pats her helmet before heading over this own car.
"Radio check, bubs." Her race engineer, Rocky (yes, THE Rocky) states into her radio. Using a nickname he'd given her since she'd came into the Red Bull juniors programme.
He was in charge of mentoring and guiding a lot of juniors and with the promotion of her into F1 and directly into the Red Bull team. They wanted her to have someone she was familiar with on her radio just to at least give her that comfort and Rocky knows how she works better than anyone else.
"Radio check, loud and clear." Y/n replies swallowing to herself.
When she gets out on track she's acutely aware that cameras are very much keeping an eye on her.
"We're just getting a feel of the track, trying out engine set ups remember. No pressure you just trust your feel." Rocky states into her ears as she gets out the pit line.
"And there is y/n y/l/n." Crofty states as the cameras very much do immediately change to watch her. "The world watched her closely in testing. She didn't make any mistakes that we didn't at least see from Max. Now she's out on track."
"She is. I'm quite looking forward to seeing y/n show us what she's capable of. Of course, Red Bull has been quite...kind to her with bringing her in. They've brought in Rocky who worked with Seb but had moved to work more with the junior Red Bull drivers. He's on her radio, they've been very defensive of anyone who has tried to declare her unfit for the seat." Martin explains then sighing. "Now we just need to see what y/n's got and she's got to just put it out on the track."
FP1 ends with her in getting the 4th fastest time. But FP1 doesn't equate to a whole weekend of top 5 performances.
"Hey, bubs." Rocky smiles as she climbs out the car and walks up to him. "Ready for data?"
"Ready." Y/n nods with a small smile.
-
Y/n actually feels comfortable getting into the car for FP2.
Which is where she makes her first error. Because she should've known being confident in the car would lead to disaster.
There's almost some racing going on and that's when she becomes a victim as she tries to keep out the way of approaching cars. George and Lewis are apparently racing? (idc if people hate me I love making George and Lewis enemies, they basically are irl 🤣)
George gives Lewis a puncture and he smashes into the side of y/n. Actually it hurts more than she was expected when people had warned her of the pain of a crash. His car t-boning her ends up pushing her into the wall too. It's only good she wasn't going fast and he'd somewhat slowed down.
"Y/n? Are you ok?" Rocky's voices asks on the radio.
"Yeah, fuck! What the fuck were they doing?" Y/n questions then sighing.
"Car is safe. P0 then you can get out when you're ready." Rocky sighs making her huff before she quickly detached and unplugs everything, climbing out the car and putting the steering wheel back before walking around to look at the damage.
Her whole engine is exposed and the sided is destroyed.
Fantastic.
George and Lewis seem to be bickering and in her own rage she jumps the wall to safety only briefly exchanging words with the marshalls before climbing on the closest moped and getting back to the paddock.
"That is not a happy woman. George and Lewis don't seem very happy but I can imagine Red Bull are speaking to race control about their actions. Very very silly to be racing each other like that and causing a crash with another team as a victim to it." Martin comments shaking his head.
"Do you think a penalty will be coming their way."
"Red Bull will certainly fight for it. That's their rookie and she sounded very upset. I'm sure Lewis and George will be called to the stewards."
"I think apologies will be owed."
Y/n gets herself weighed but her anger has the better of her and her trainer, Wyatt decides to get her to her drivers room to cool off before there's a debrief.
"It's not your fault." Wyatt states while she tries not to cry.
She hates when she cries because she's angry. But it happens.
"Hey. Come on. It is not your fault, you got out the way and got t-boned by two teammates being idiots." Wyatt sighs moving to hug her.
"It's a joke." Y/n sniffles then sighing. "I should go speak to the rest of the team."
"Ok. Let's go."
Y/n gets to the garage, half an hour still left as she walks across to the pit wall.
"Hey, you ok?" Rocky asks making her tick her jaw to restrain ranting about it. "It's fine. We'll get the car fix and we'll make sure you're nowhere near them tomorrow at any point."
"It's still not great is it?" Y/n huffs shaking her head.
"They're being spoken to by the stewards and it looks like Toto will be having words." Rocky reassures her while she sighs and nods a little.
-
FP3 is clean and qualifying sees y/n take P5.
"You did it." Max smiles picking her up in a hug as they all walk towards media.
"Yeah, rookie of the year in the bag already." Lando comments making her smile at him. "No Mercedes smashing into you. Did it not hurt? Lewis really t-boned you."
"Yeah, but I think I was too annoyed to actually car...they were acting like dicks. I'm glad they got penalised for it." Y/n sighs still not exactly having forgiven the Brits in their interterm idiocy towards each other.
The three divide, each with a comms team member who leads them to their given interviews.
"Y/n, a much cleaner Saturday than Friday." The interviewer states as y/n stands in the media pit. "How are you feeling? Especially after quite a nasty hit."
"Significantly better day. I feel fine, maybe some very little aches but nothing major." Y/n smiles with a nod. "P5 not bad for a first qualifying. And I only plan to move up from there for the rest of the races."
"I love the optimism and confidence. I know I speak for so many people that we are rooting for you."
"Thank you." Y/n laughs then moving forward and hugging the interviewer. "Really, thank you."
-
The driver's parade saw all oft he drivers surrounding y/n like she's just the most popular person. Pulling her away for an interview with Laura actually saw Max have to be forced to stop hugging her with Lando and Carlos pulling her teammates arms from around her.
That quickly created rumours online of them dating.
But Max is definitely more like a friend who almost acts like a brother.
"You got this. We believe in you." Carlos states as she grins at him, blowing him and Lando a kiss as they walk to their cars after the anthem.
Y/n gets her helmet and hans device on while Wyatt smiles at her looking like he's beaming with pride, just seeing her go into her first race.
"Alright, feel good?" Wyatt asks making her nod. "Go on then, time to go show the world they're fucking morons."
"I will." Y/n grins fist bumping him before she moves climbing into the cockpit.
They get her strapped in and suddenly she's on her own.
"Radio check bubs." Rocky calls into her ears.
"Radio check." Y/n calls back before he tells her all the tyre choices of the other drivers.
"Formation lap. Then let's go racing."
"Thank you, Rocky."
The formation lap feels as if it goes in the blink of an eye and she's back on the grid, waiting for everyone to finish getting into their grid slots.
"Everyone on grid." Rocky states making her get the ready, watching the lights.
Lights out and while she tries not to dwell on it, her start was as good as she felt it could've been. Now she just needs to stay out of trouble.
Primarily away from anyone who wants to use their teammate as a means of smashing into her.
Driving around Bahrain and pushing, listening to every single thing Rocky says and making sure she speaks back. She doesn't want to know who is in front or who is behind unless they're a threat or an opportunity.
"Y/n is...storming. You'd really think she may be using some of that residue upset from Friday in today. She definitely wasn't afraid to tell people that she was unhappy with both Mercedes drivers and felt their penalties were deserved. Lewis even said she'd unapologetically told him and George both that she wasn't impressed and they had grovelling to do." Martin states making Crofty chuckle.
"I think they might be wise to grovel. She seems like someone you'd want to stay on the good side of." Crofty admits while Martin hums in agreement.
The race continues, and she keeps going not even thinking as she does everything she can to just...make progress. Clean pitstops help and she's just relieved that they have done what they needed to do.
"Last lap, bubs. You got this. Push and go for fast lap if you want, no risk." Rocky states and actually she's surprised to hear they're in the last lap. Has it really been that long?
She's sort of had tunnel vision, her mind had number out the idea of anything else but the track in front or behind her.
Y/n gets herself around the track pushing as hard as possible.
"P3! P3! Fastest lap. Driver of the day and a podium!" Rocky exclaims as she hears cheers in the background with her name being chanted.
"Holy shit. Holy shit. Fucking hell." Y/n exclaims laughing as she waves out the cockpit. "This is insane. Holy fuck. Max P1?"
"Max P1. Carlos P2. Behind you, Charles and Lando then Oscar."
"Oh my fuck-fuck! Rocky!"
"You just get back here bubs. I'll be waiting for you."
Y/n actually maybes goes a bit fast for her in lap. But when she pulls up knocking the P3 sigh. Max and Carlos are always there. She doesn't even properly get out before Max has rushes to her tosses her around in a hug before she is placed down, running to the team who are admittedly more excited for her than they were to see Max take the win.
"Now that is a beautiful sight. The celebrations of a drivers first podium, her first ever race a rookie. I think we've got a lot more to see from y/n and actually I'd say Max may need to worry that y/n's about to threat to him. It might be early to say this, but y/n might be his first teammate since Daniel who may pose a real challenge." Crofty states over the broadcast while they watch y/n get weighed, finally released from the clutches of her team.
Though almost every other driver appears moving to want to congratulate her.
"Good for both of them and he seems to love y/n already. They have really got a bond that we see between the best of teammates." Martin states since Max has had some great teammates but y/n could be the best of them.
Y/n and the boys get up tot he cool down room where Carlos also picks her up hugging her tightly and spinning her around.
"You are amazing, y/n." Carlos grins then placing her down. "We will give you the best podium."
Y/n laughs as Max begins yapping about some of the footage which is being shown.
Eventually they're out on the podium, y/n first, then Carlos and then Max.
Trophies are present and Max gets his medal and that's when it dawns on y/n that Max seems to be about to dump his whole bottle on her.
"No!" Y/n laughs only just managing to not drop her bottle as she tries to run around Max and use Carlos as a human shield which almost works.
If Carlos didn't tip his entire bottle over his head behind him to perfectly pour onto her.
"Ahhh, no! Carlos, you traitor." Y/n squeals jumping back leaving her in the line of fire from Max who showers her in champagne.
"Enjoy it!" Max exclaims making her grin but she returns the gesture as Carlos sprays the champagne onto Max then turns finishing spraying what little is left onto y/n as she showers him too.
"Alright. Alright. We need to get off." Y/n laughs moving to the podium and picking up her trophy as she poses with the boys. "God, I think you've blinded me. My eyes sting."
-
"We watched y/n take a rookie, maiden podium and Red Bull have not stopped their cheering. After the podium and debrief, they did their team photo. Of course and she tried to use Max as a human shield to not be soaked to the skin in Red Bull. That failed in the same way that her podium shielding using Carlos failed. I think last time I saw her, she was trudging very carefully through the paddock looking quite sticky." Ted chuckles as he does his notebook post-race.
"You talking about me?" Y/n exclaims with a smile, appearing cleaned thanks to a quick shower in her drivers room.
Max is walking alongside her with Wyatt and Rupert walking with both the drivers.
"I am. Any very quick comments?" Ted smiles as she nears him.
"Uhh...Red Bull is very hard to wash out your hair. I don't recommend having it poured over your head in gallons." Y/n laughs then fist-bumping Ted. "You have a good night, Ted."
"You have a very good night. I know there's whispers of celebrations for both of you. Enjoy that guys."
"We will!"
Max laughs shaking his head at his teammate who grins walking alongside him.
"Next podium, I am terrorising you with champagne by the way and since you didn't protect me. I'm tackling you when the Red Bull comes out to be sprayed everywhere."
"You shouldn't have told me. I'll just use you as the human shield." Max grins while she nudges him and shakes her head.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05 @mellowarcadefun @cixrosie @scopeiguess @racingheartsposts @c-losur3
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xorafe · 2 days
Text
watch and learn (part two)
pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning drug and alcohol use
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summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.
» masterlist
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
You’re at the library the next morning, enjoying how quiet campus is on a Saturday. You’re trying to focus on a discussion board you need to respond in, but your mind is elsewhere.
You can’t believe you agreed to Rafe’s idea. But you don’t regret it. He may be a jerk through and through, but he’s surprisingly a really good listener in bed.
You’re pretty sure he gave you the best orgasm you’ve ever had with someone. While it was an awkward challenge guiding him, you realized how liberating it was getting exactly what you wanted instead of quietly hoping the guy you were with knew what to do.
Your phone buzzes and lights up with a text. It’s 9:44 am and the notification is from Rafe.
Rafe: if you ever want practice sucking dick let me know
You flush and instinctually look around to make sure nobody in the barren library can see your screen. You reply: good morning to you too.
You take a second and send another message. The thought of going down on him rouses you. And, of course, the feedback will be helpful.
You: might take you up on that
Rafe: might?
You: might :)
Rafe is lying in bed, nursing a minor hangover. When he thinks about what happened on the other side of the wall in your room last night, he gets turned on all over again.
Feeling you cum around his fingers was fucking amazing. Knowing he did that to you, made you shake like that, was like an achievement. And he wants to keep doing it.
He texts you: we’re having a party on the beach today. bring friends
Rafe’s brand new to the frat, but he has already learned how important it is to invite as many people as he can to events. And if he’s being honest, he really wants to see you again.
You: only if you dont hit on them. i cant subject them to that
He feels his lips quirk up in a smile. When you don’t have a stick up your ass, you’re actually kind of entertaining.
Rafe: wtf why
You: you’re a fuckboy
Rafe: nahh you said i was amazing
You: i said the sex was amazing. and thats only because i told you what to do
Rafe: you can’t take all the credit
You: watch me
Rafe: you’re annoying
You: YOU’RE annoying
You: send me the address and time for the party
He quickly sends you the details.
This is the best idea he’s ever had. No strings attached sex with a hot girl who has zero interest in a relationship and can be brutally honest with him. He gets to fuck and improve his skills. It’s a dream.
Later that afternoon, Rafe watches the setting sun as he hangs out with a couple of his frat brothers in the sand. The party’s slowly starting to fill up, conversations growing in volume over the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.
“We don’t host a lot of parties here,” Blake continues to explain to Rafe.
Blake’s a sophomore legacy and Rafe has slowly realized that he sort of looks up to him. He’s involved in the frat and seems to know everybody.
“It’s ‘cause it’s impossible to get people to pay cover, so we don’t even ask for it,” Blake says.
“No door to do it at,” Sam, another sophomore adds with a laugh. Blake looks back and shakes his head.
“Fun police is here,” he hollers. Rafe turns to see pacing towards the keg next to the same girl he saw you with last night.
His pulse quickens as he takes you in. Your shorts are barely covering anything. Damn.
You glare at Blake as you pick up a red solo cup.
“Kidding,” Blake says. “We were kinda being assholes the other night, weren’t we?”
Your lips twist into a small smile. Rafe isn’t sure why, but he doesn’t like you looking at Blake like that.
He didn’t mention to anyone that you two hooked up last night. No particular reason - it just didn’t come up. But clearly, he’ll have to fill the guys in later. They need to know you’re off limits.
“Thanks for admitting it,” you say, filling up your cup. “Why can’t you be my neighbor?”
You look over at Rafe, whose jaw is clenched. Him and that temper. Admittedly, you’re already kind of sexually frustrated over how good he looks in his tank top, his big biceps exposed.
“Life’s unfair,” Blake replies with a bigger grin. You return it. It makes Rafe’s blood run hot.
“I guess it is,” you say as your friend finishes filling up her cup.
You walk away and Rafe realizes he didn’t exchange a single word with you. The second you’re out of earshot, he leans towards his buddies.
“I’m hooking up with her,” he tells them.
“Your neighbour?” Sam laughs. “Cap. That chick hates you.”
Rafe almost tells him not to call you a chick because of your advice last night. Wow. He really is learning from you.
“Didn’t hate me last night.” He takes a sip of his beer.
“Wait, for real?” Blake asks.
“Yeah.” Rafe loves the confidence high he’s riding right now.
“How was it?” Blake asks.
Rafe decides to lie. Painting it as a boring experience will make his buddies lose any interest they might have in you.
“Fine,” he says casually. Yeah, right. It was incredible.
Rafe watches Blake turn, surely to check you out.
“She’s cute,” Blake mumbles.
“Bro code, man,” Sam says, slapping his friend’s chest. Rafe is kind of relieved he said that.
“Shit, my bad,” Blake says with a chuckle, looking at Rafe. “You like her?”
“Oh - no,” Rafe laughs. “No.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind if I talked to her, right?” Blake says it as more of a statement than a question.
Rafe realizes he shouldn’t care. This whole arrangement is so both of you can get better at sex with other people. He doesn’t know what got into him thinking you owed him loyalty. His impulse to be possessive serves no purpose here.
“Go for it,” Rafe says.
Dusk falls as you stand in a crowd with Liv, your feet sunken into the sand as you drink and chat.
You told her about your arrangement with Rafe and were surprised to hear how jealous she was, mentioning how rare it is to find a guy who cares about giving his girl an orgasm.
You had to clarify to her it’s because Rafe’s ego needs all the stroking it can get, especially in the bedroom. And that you are not his girl.
You know it’s a crazy situation to be in with someone, but it’s worth it. You’ll learn what you can from him, and he’ll do the same with you, and then you’ll use what you picked up with people you actually like.
As the night goes on, the crowd gets bigger and closer together. It’s dark at this point, the moon covered with clouds.
Rafe’s been looking at you all night, at your bare legs, thinking about how he had his mouth between them last night.
You feel your phone buzz in your back pocket. When you pull it out, you see a text from Rafe: you ever fucked in a car? or are you too scared lol
You look up to meet his gaze from eight feet away at most, shaking your head in incredulity as he smirks at you.
The abruptness of his message, the promise of doing something so outside your comfort zone, is thrilling. But still, you just have to mess with him.
You reply: too scared :( no thanks
You laugh at the way Rafe’s face contorts at his phone. He looks up at you.
You text again: jk let’s go
He flashes his middle finger to you and you return the gesture. He then cocks his head behind him to signal you to follow.
“Tip for you,” you say when you approach him, walking away from the crowd together. “Don’t flip off a girl you’re trying to fuck.”
“Is that not good foreplay?” Rafe asks with a smirk.
“Aw, did I teach you that word?” you say.
“I knew it before.”
“Sure,” you say. “Just like you knew that girls fake it.”
“You’re annoying,” he groans, amusement in his tone.
“You’re annoying” you say, echoing your text conversation from earlier. You playfully shove his shoulder. He hardly budges.
You approach the parking lot and Rafe pulls out keys to remotely unlock his car.
“Get in,” he says, stopping in front of a large black SUV and opening the right backseat door. You notice the luxury brand immediately.
“This is your car?”
“Got a motorcycle, too,” he replies smugly.
“It makes so much sense now.”
“What?”
“You’re rich,” you realize. Rafe shrugs in such a pompous way.
“And?”
“That’s why you’re so…” you begin. What’s the right word? Entitled? Arrogant? Shameless? “You.”
Rafe scoffs at you, unsure of how to take the comment and unsure if he should even care as you settle in his car. He ambles in behind you, settling on the leather seat and shutting the door.
You don’t feel shy to initiate like you did last night. You straddle him, immediately locking lips, feeling him freeze in what you think is surprise before his hands drag over your hips.
Rafe really wants to grab your ass but he remembers you telling him he shouldn’t jump right to groping.
He tastes like beer and he smells like cologne as you deepens the kiss, weaving your lips together. He dips his tongue into your mouth and your noses nudge together, wet lips smacking in his dark, quiet car.
He shuffles under you, the leather squeaking, allowing you to feel his hard-on between your legs, his hands finally wandering over your ass and gripping hard. Lust burns in your stomach.
Your mind drifts back to what he texted you this morning. You’ve been thinking about it all day. You sit back, unable to see much of Rafe in the darkness, but enough to see that his eyes are half-closed, drunk off the feeling.
“I wanna practice…” you say, stroking him over his shorts. “You know.”
“Say it,” Rafe coaches, his dimples caving into his cheeks. You roll your eyes. Right. This is why you’re doing this. To stop being so reserved.
“Sucking dick,” you finally say. Hearing and watching you as your words spill out of your mouth makes his skin prickle with excitement.
“My turn to teach you, huh?” Rafe’s voice is deep and husky, dripping with desire. You nod, your bottom lip trapped beneath your teeth as you continue to stroke him.
“Should I keep doing this?” you ask, palming him.
“You got it, baby,” he rasps lazily. “Touch it before you put it in your mouth.”
“Fuck,” you half-chuckle. Rafe smirks. He knows you love his dirty talk.
“You can talk, too,” he encourages. “Try it.”
You twist your lips in apprehension, but push yourself past your comfort zone.
“I’ve been thinking about doing this all day,” you admit, goosebumps blooming across your skin. “About how your cock is gonna feel down my throat.”
“Goddamn,” he groans, his hands gripping your ass tighter. How’d he get so lucky to be here right now? “That’s good.”
“Yeah?” you whisper, gratified. You unbutton his shorts and pull down his zipper.
“You liked the way it felt inside you last night, didn’t you?” he asks. He shifts to give you the space to pull down his shorts and boxers.
You watch him shut his eyes in pleasure as you wrap your bare hand around him, no fabric in the way anymore.
“I loved it,” you whisper, giving into the impulse to kiss him again. When your thumb rubs over the bead of warm precum on the head of his cock, he bites your bottom lip.
You move to position your head at his groin, your knees on the carpeted floor of his car. You lean forward, slowly putting your lips around the tip, feeling just how wet your panties are when you taste him.
“Shit,” he shudders. You slightly raise your head to dribble spit onto his thick cock, bringing your hand up to rub the moisture over his length.
“Sit up,” Rafe says. “I wanna watch you spit on it again.”
You straighten and the sight of your line of saliva dropping from your mouth to his dick makes Rafe feel like he might go crazy.
His cock is slick now, your hand sliding up and down it easily.
“Should I use both hands?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he huffs. You nod, both your palms rubbing over his girth, cupping and twisting.
He’s about to tell you to start using your mouth, but you drop a hand, leaving the other at his base, and take him in.
Your hot, wet mouth feels unbelievable. You start to suck and slide over him nicely, leaning up and down.
“Squeeze harder,” he instructs, and you nod with his cock still in your mouth, your hold stiffening at his base. You’d assume gripping this tight would hurt, but this is why you’re doing this with him. To learn.
You take a little more of him with every dip of your head, lips locked as spit dribbles down your chin. The sound of your slurping is fucking amazing to him. Your tongue twists and curls as you move.
“Keep using your tongue like that,” Rafe says to you, his words whispered and rushed. “And take as much of my cock as you can. Try to take all of it.”
You nod again, pushing down, gagging but reaching all of him, your nose touching his toned stomach.
“Fuck, yes,” he moans. “Good fucking girl.”
The praise makes you stir with enticement as you pull back, then take all of his length again, flicking your tongue.
“Just like that,” Rafe grunts, his voice hoarse. “Look at me.”
You meet his eyes in the shadowed car, his chest heaving. Rafe might just lose his mind at the way you look with your mouth stuffed with his cock. He reminds him this is supposed to be instructional.
“Guys love this shit, okay?” he says. “When you look up like that.”
You pull back, making him watch his cock slowly get uncovered as you pop off of him.
“Is it wet enough?” you ask.
“Yeah, baby, you’re doing a good job,” he replies. You nod and sink onto him again, starting to move faster, moving your hand in sync with your mouth.
“Hold my balls,” he tells you. “Not too tight.”
You obey, cupping the soft flesh with one hand while the other remains wrapped around his cock. You squeeze gently, massaging his balls and earning a deep groan from him.
Wow. You really are learning a lot from him.
Rafe feels his stomach tighten. He’s close.
“You gonna swallow?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you say, muffled and vibrating over his cock. You never have before, but you really want to impress Rafe and do this right.
He starts to shake, his voice reduced to a whimper. You feel him get even harder, then shudder.
His hot cum hits the back of your throat in one hard splash, trailed by short spurts. He moans his way through his orgasm, his load heavy.
You take it all, making him smile as he looks down at you, panting.
“That was… fuck…” Rafe huffs, titling his head back, his jawline sharp.
It’s pretty gratifying seeing such a big, loud, arrogant man reduced to this tired, heaving mess. He rakes a hand through his hair as you shift to sit next to him.
“A-plus?” you ask. You’re expecting him to tease you but he nods.
“Fuck yeah,” he laughs. “Give me a few minutes. I want you to show me how to make you cum on my dick.”
Nerves suddenly bubble in your stomach. Even after what you just did, the thought of fucking him in here makes you feel on edge.
“Let’s do that another night,” you say, adjusting your top.
“What? Why?” he asks. He looks at you, lips still parted as he breathes heavily.
“We could get caught.”
“The windows are tinted,” Rafe tells you. “Nobody knows we’re even in here.”
You look away, which by now, he has learned means you’re embarrassed.
“Holy shit, why do you get so nervous all of a sudden?” he laughs. “Do you feel bad for liking sex or something?”
You swallow hard. You never thought about it but... maybe he’s right. There always is a little bit of shame attached to every hook-up you have.
He called you out on your lack of confidence last night. Here he is, doing it again.
Rafe doesn’t understand how a girl can be so sure of herself one minute, then ashamed the next.
“Relax,” he says. “Don’t think. Just answer, understand?”
“Okay,” you say.
“Do you want to fuck?”
You nod.
“Say it.”
“Yeah, I do,” you relent.
“Then take your clothes off.”
(part three)
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princessbrunette · 2 days
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frat!gooner!rafe is weird and icky.
occasionally he’ll follow you into the bathroom at his place, crowding you from behind with his hands on your hips so you don’t shut the door in his face as he eases you into the room to do your business. you’re used to him, unbothered as ever as you innocently pull your panties down and pee in the toilet, the watchful boy stood before you with a wide stance in grey sweats and parted lips, staring at the little pudge of pubic meat that peeks from between your legs.
the sound of your tinkle fills the room as you swing your legs, looking up at him curiously. “cute… can hear how tight you are just from the sound…” he has no shame in the way he says it, looking down right at you as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. for something said in such a flirtatious way he sure was off putting at times. “you ever like… pee’d… pee’d on a dick while its fuckin’ you?” his voice is rasped, drawled, like he’s already horny at just the mere thought. you shake your head.
“only ever had sex with you, remember?” you blink dolly eyelashes up at him and he nods, fixing the backwards hat on his head.
“oh shit, yeah. aha…”
only later on he’s following you back into the bathroom to see what else you’ll get up to. it’s later in the evening, and you’ve headed to brush your teeth. when you’re minding your business, the tall fratboy looms over you and takes the toothbrush from your mouth, taking over for you.
he grasps your chin with his fingers, seemingly concentrated as he works the bristles over your teeth. it’s seemingly innocent at first and you even giggle, in which he responds with a distracted ‘hm’ with a smile. but rafe being rafe, he gets carried away fast— making sure to really scrub at your tongue until you’re grasping at his wrist with wide slightly panicked doe eyes and a furrowed brow, toothpaste frothing and drooling out your mouth at the corners as you gag on the plastic device.
“yeah… fuckin’ sexy even like that.” he mutters to himself, before he’s had enough of it and lets go, leaving you coughing and wiping your mouth, departing with a slap on your ass. “hurry up n’ come to bed already.”
he’s also the type to randomly start jerking off whilst the two of you are watching tv. it’s nothing special, you’re rewatching gossip girl and when rafe gets disinterested — he puts his hands down his basketball shorts, thumbing at his cock until it’s hard. he leans his head back, staring at the ceiling in a daze as he does so, and you only notice he’s doing it when he pulls it out, jerking it at its full stiffness.
“rafe!” you widen your eyes, startled. he licks his lips, completely unfazed by your reaction.
“what?” he has the audacity to sound mildly irritated by your surprise. “s’a very normal thing, alright?”
“you just caught me off guard.” you pout, head tilting in curiosity as you watch the way he works his fist over himself, unable to help yourself from mentally taking notes. he looks at you, chest rising and falling with slow deep breaths as he touches himself, and after a few seconds he speaks.
“well are you going to keep staring or do you wanna help me out here? this dick won’t suck itself, fucking unfortunately.”
you shuffle closer, huffing out your nose with a frown. “you know i’ll always help.” you argue at the insinuation and he presses his lips together in a smile, both arms now resting along the back of the couch as you lower yourself between his legs.
“thats why i like you sweetheart. me n’you are just the same, isn’t that right?”
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elodieunderglass · 3 days
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Hi! I was wondering if you could help me out with a word I've forgotten? I'm trying to remember the name for a concept that (I think) talks about how people better understand or process Things once they have vocabulary to describe it - I've heard it talked about in regards to the colour orange, or coercive control, etc.
long story short i've just read a paper saying ancient Greeks and Romans weren't racist bc they had no word for racism and am trying to form an argument against!
(no worries if this is unanswerable, i'm aware its a bit of a long shot but you struck me as a person who Knows Things)
That’s extremely kind and funny of you. i don’t know much but i am ok at synthesis.
I think you might be thinking of the concepts loosely called the “Sapir-Whorf hypothesis”, which describes something called “linguistic determinism.” This idea has been “disproven”, as it is just too reductionist as a concept - people are clearly perfectly capable of having experiences that are tough to describe with words. There will be plenty of papers showing how this reasoning is applied.
but it is still commonly thrown around and still considered a useful teaching framework. That’s why you’ll see it referenced online as if it is fresh, new, and applicable - people learn about it every year in college. Also, elements of the framework are probably perfectly sound. It definitely seems to be the case that language shapes brains; it just doesn’t seem to be the case that humans who don’t have specific words for them can’t experience orange, or the future.
(Many things in college are taught using teaching frameworks that may not be, technically, true; the framework is intended to give a critical structure for interpreting information. Then, when we later find evidence that disproves the hypothesis, that single piece of information doesn’t destroy our expensive college education; what we paid for is the framework. This is mostly frustrating in the sciences, when fresh crops of undergraduate students crash around on social media, grappling with their first exposure to (complex concept) and how it’s DIFFERENT to what they learned BEFORE and their teachers LIED TO EVERYBODY and they’re going to save the world from POP SCIENCE by telling the TRUTH. You’ll notice that these TOTALLY NEW INFORMATION reveals map along the semester schedule. The thing here is that getting new information, or information being different from what you were previously told, does not cancel out the fact that you are getting what you pay for - an education. Learning new facts that change our relationships to hypotheses isn’t a ✨huge betrayal ✨ , but the expected process of academia. Anyway.)
You have an interesting response here, and can start by looking at the ways that Sapir-Whorf has been disproved. There will be loads of literature on that.
However, it would be interesting to look at the argument as an unpicking of the other side’s rather weird, ritualistic superstitious belief that a behavior doesn’t exist if the creatures doing it can’t describe it. It is not on the ancient Greeks and Romans to categorise and interpret their behavior for a modern educated audience. They do not have the wherewithal to do so. They are also fucking dead. We can name the behaviors we see, and describe their impacts, however the hell we like.
Sure, the ancient Greeks used “cancer” to refer to lumpy veiny tumors. We can infer that they still had blood cancer, because their medical texts describe leukaemia and their corpses have evidence of it - they just didn’t know it was cancer. But we do, so we can call it cancer. Just because Homer said “the wine-dark sea” in a flight of girlish whimsy doesn’t mean he was unable to distinguish grape juice from saltwater, which we know, because we can observe that he was an intelligent wordsmith perfectly capable of talking about wine and oceans in other contexts. We are the people who get to stand at our point of history with our words, and name things like “this person probably died of leukaemia” and “poets say things that aren’t necessarily literal” and “this behaviour was racist” and “that’s gay” and “togas kinda slay tho” despite Ancient Greeks having different concepts of cancer, wittiness, prejudice, homosexuality, and slaying than we do today.
Now just to caveat that people do get muddled about the concept of racism. Our understanding of racism from here - this point of history, with these words, probably from the West - is heavily influenced by how we see racism around us today: white supremacy and the construct of “whiteness,” European colonial expansion, transatlantic chattel slavery, orientalism, evangelism, 20th century racial science, and so on. This is the picture of racism that really dominates our current discourse, so people often mistake it for the definition of racism. (Perhaps in a linguistic-deterministic sort of way after all.) As a result, muddled-up people often say things like “I can’t be racist because I’m not a white American who throws slurs at black American people,” while being an Indian person in the UK who votes for vile anti-immigration practices, or a Polish person with a horrible attitude about the Roma. Many people genuinely hold this very kindergarten idea of racism; if your opponent does as well, they’re probably thinking something like “Ancient Greek and Roman people didn’t have a concept of white supremacy, because whiteness hadn’t been invented yet, so how could they be racist?” And that’s unsound reasoning in a separate sense.
Racism as the practice of prejudice against an ethnicity, particularly one that is a minority, is a power differential that is perfectly observable in ancient cultures. The beliefs and behaviors will be preserved in written plays, recorded slurs, beauty standards, reactions to foreign marriages, and travel writing. The impacts will be documented in political records, trade agreements, the layouts of historical districts of ancient towns.
You don’t need permission to point out behaviours and impacts. You can point them out in any words you like. You can make up entirely new words to bully the ancient romans with. You are the one at this point of history and your words are the ones that get used.
Pretending that “words” are some kind of an intellect-obscuring magical cloud in the face of actual evidence is just a piece of sophistry (derogatory) on the part of your opponent here. It’s meant to be a distraction. You can dismiss this very flimsy shield pretty quickly and get them in the soft meat of them never reading anything about the actual material topic, while they’re still looking up dictionary definitions or whatever.
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exhaslo · 2 days
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Can you do like a God Miguel and devil fem reader, this is my first request so please no hate 😭 Oh yeah AND SMUTTTTT
That man is basically a God, haha. Usually I see this request the opposite way, so this is going to be so much fun!
Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, teasing, taunting, handsy, oral sex (m receiving), riding, rough sex, dirty talk, doggy style, creampie
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"C'mon, Big Boy. Afraid to show a lil ol' devil like me what a taste of Heaven looks like?"
This was a sight to behold. No one had ever dared to question or even go against Miguel's ruling. There was a reason why the two dimensions were split between Heaven and Hell. There were a whole list of reasons.
One of them, being devils like you.
You gave a wicked smile towards Miguel, the God of Heaven himself, the ruler of all Angels. Hell, the very man whom separated the Angels and Devils. He was one who controlled all. One who could change the course of fate itself.
"What's a Sinner like me to do in order to enter your pearly white gates of Heaven?" You cooed, getting on your knees.
"You have already made your choices in life. You must live with the consequences of your actions." Miguel spoke.
You gave a pout, pressing your lower lip out while pressing your breasts together.
"But, it wasn't all my fault! I'm here to confess my sins and do right. Please, give me a chance? Isn't that what Angels do? Give second chances?" You begged.
Miguel grunted lowly as he shooed his Angels away. They had started to whisper amongst themselves because sadly, you were right. Miguel disliked it when a devil would sway the good hearted with cruel twists of truth.
"You wish to be redeemed? How do you plan on doing so?" Miguel asked. You bit your lower lip, finding his scowl hot,
"I'll do anything."
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Miguel sure had you work your way into heaven. As God, he personally oversaw your progress. Every human you helped; everyone good deed you did; everything was in his sight.
Even your advances. You were sly as you did your job. Poking your ass out slightly; accidently having a tit pop out; hell even using the old lollipop trick. You were doing whatever it took to try and sway Miguel in your favor.
"Hm, excellent work. Perhaps I just might consider your arrival into heaven after a few thousand more good deeds." Miguel hummed. You felt your eye twitch,
"Thousand? Isn't there anything more..." You slid your hand down Miguel's chest, "Intense I could do?"
"Have you forgotten who I am?"
"I haven't," You whispered in his ear, slowly lowering your tank top, "I know that you rule over everything. You see everything while no one can see you. You poor stressed God."
"I'm not stressed." Miguel huffed as he glanced around the human world, "I know what you've really been after this whole time."
"Hm? You have?" You cooed, "Then why entertain me?"
"Because even a God gets bored."
In the next second, both you and Miguel were in what looked like a human hotel room. A smile curled upon your lips as you spread your legs on the bed, slowly removing your top. You gave Miguel a seductive look, motioning him over,
"So bored that you'll entertain a devil?" Miguel scoffed,
"So bored that one might say I am stressed." He tried to change the topic, but sighed, "Sometimes even I grow jealous of how easily humans find pleasure."
You raised a brow, your smile growing wider. You sat up, reaching for Miguel. Your hands stroking down his chest as you threw your top across the room.
"Allow me to give you a show then?" You whispered.
Swapping places with Miguel, you proceeded to give him a little lap dance. As you moved your ass against his crotch, you started to take your bra off. For a God like him to entertain a devil like you, oh this was going to be good.
You nibbled against his ear as you took off you pants, revealing no underwear. A chuckle escaped your lips as you glanced down towards Miguel's erection.
"Hm, does mini God wanna play?" You cooed.
"Perhaps I could show you what heaven tastes like after all." Miguel played along.
Oh, that made you wet. You hands were all over Miguel now. You just had to strip him, but slowly. You cute little devil tail twirled as you started to grind against Miguel's white robes. You stroked his face, watching his temptation grow,
"Shall I do all the work?" You whispered. Miguel just smirked,
"Weren't you the one who needed to get into heaven?"
You huffed as you removed his robes. Eyes widening at the sight of his dick. He wasn't a God for nothing. With a lick of your lips, you got on your knees and started to work your magic. You had good deeds to do after all.
"How many deeds if I make you cum?" You hummed with a lick of his tip.
"A hundred."
"Oh? Then I'll have my work cut out."
"It's a good thing stamina doesn't exist for me." Miguel said with a smirk, which made you quiver.
Ignoring that thought for now, you returned to stroking and sucking Miguel's dick. Of course God doesn't have stamina. Even devils and angels had it. Well, at least you were trying to earn his forgiveness and not the other way around.
You moaned lowly as you started to take Miguel deeper. His dick was thick and long. Just the thought of him ravishing you was making you horny. Not to mention the sounds of his grunts was delicious. If only you were a succubus, this would make a fine meal.
"Still waiting to be impressed." Miguel teased.
You felt your eye twitch as you kept sucking. What more did he want? Gasping, you felt his hands on your head as he started to thrust into your mouth. Tears started to form as you tried to breathe through you nose.
"Here's your first hundred." Miguel groaned.
You nearly gagged as Miguel cummed inside your mouth. Moving away, you swallowed what you could, but coughed up the rest. There was so much. Wiping your mouth, you glanced at his still harden erection and chuckled,
"If that's the case, then this will be easy."
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"Are you giving up already? What a poor little slutty devil you are." Miguel mocked as you bounced on his cock.
You were drooling as you rode Miguel. His dick fit so nicely inside you, stretching all your walls as you fucked him. His tip hit the far back of your cervix, making you really see heaven in a different light. You had only fucked him for a few minutes and you felt like giving in.
"Is this all Hell has to offer?" Miguel asked. You flinched, feeling yourself about to cum again,
"N-No...J-Just....so...ah~" You whined, jumping down once more only to cum.
"This is why you need my help."
Miguel held your waist and started to thrust up inside you, causing you to moan and squirm. His dick was too much. He was hitting you in all the right places. Gripping your hips, Miguel watched your tits bounce as he fucked you from below.
"Tsk, tsk, this poor little devil wants forgiveness right?"
"Y-Yesh~"
"I'll give it to you. One load at a time."
You shuddered towards his words as he released a heavy load inside you. Gasping, you felt Miguel press you against the bed, entering you from behind. His grip was still tight as he started to pound your pussy.
"Such lewd sounds you're making. Does my dick feel that good?"
"Ah~ Ah~ Y-Yes!" You cried out, gripping the bedsheets. Miguel chuckled, listening to the sound of his dick slapping into you,
"Can you feel my holy presence inside you? Is this the taste of heaven you wanted so much?"
"Ah~ Mhm~"
You couldn't think. You felt your eyes roll back as you focused on Miguel pounding you. His hot cum just begging to spill before his next load. This was truly paradise.
"So cock drunk that you can't even think. What a slutty devil you are." Miguel hummed, feeling you cum around him, "But you are doing the best deed there is."
"Mhm!" You gasped as Miguel slapped into your gummy walls faster,
"Keep coming to me for your forgiveness and I'll happily give it to your horny pussy." He groaned, cumming once more, "How does that sound?"
"Ah~ Y-Yes~ Yes~" You moaned loudly.
Miguel just chuckled in response, turning you over. You were out of breathe and fucked out. Miguel glanced at your body, watching your devil wings disappear since you had no energy. Another chuckle escaped his lips as he watched his cum leak out of you,
"Don't suppose you want to start a new race? I have unless stamina after all."
You had a long road of forgiveness ahead of you, but you weren't complaining in the slightest.
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I CAN FEEL THE JUDGEMENT FROM ABOVE, BUT WE ALL KNOW I'M GOING DOWN! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!
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flemingsfreckles · 3 days
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Better Boyfriend than Him (18+) pt.3
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Preview: Part 1, Part 2 the more time you spend in Jessie’s bed the more you start to realize maybe it’s more than good sex
Warnings: Smut (18+), frat boy Jessie vibes, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), strap on (r receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, overstimulation, edging, cursing
WC: 4.9k
A/N: this is like a 50/50 smut/not smut split. For the sake of this series continuing it unfortunately couldn’t just be straight banging, so there’s a little plot.
“Please, Jessie, please.” You yelled into your pillow as Jessie was behind you thrusting roughly, her thighs slapping hard against the back of yours. She was putting so much force into you that you were gripping the bed sheets to prevent your body from moving. Your body was exhausted but you fought against her thrusts to keep your knees under you.
Letting her use the strap on you had been like opening the floodgates of sex between the two of you. You had both fallen asleep together in her bed after the first time she used it on you. When you woke up Jessie had moved to the living room where she was sitting watching tv. You had sat down next to her, it only took a few minutes for her hand to move onto your thigh and before you knew it, she was kneeling in front of the couch with her face buried between your legs making you cum for the third and fourth time that day. Instead of coming over to just hang out with her, you came over to hang out, but also you weren’t going to turn down mind blowing sex.
You felt bad for both of your neighbors over the past few weeks, you alternated between your place and hers but it was still an excessive amount of sex being had that your poor neighbors had to hear. The sex had somehow managed to get better, you’re not sure how but it had. You were beginning to try more things, but Jessie was still hesitant about being too fast or hard on you. She still need some encouragement here and there, sometime getting caught up in the fact that she cared about you more than her other hookups, unable to completely let herself go. She tended to be soft, making sure her actions were slow, gentle.
You could feel when she would hold herself back from being rough. She’d get caught up and move faster or harder, you’d let out a whimper or a cry out of surprise or pleasure and she’d immediately slow back down much to your dismay. Despite your encouragement, she kept it gentle. While it was nice and made you feel comfortable and safe at the beginning, but you were secretly dying for her to be rough with you.
That’s how you both ended up here. You had decided to tease her all day in hopes it would lead to some rougher behavior from her. Today was one of the busiest days you had, 3 classes in a row followed by a lab. You had worn your lowest cut shirt and the smallest bra you owned, making sure your chest was fully on display. You had picked out a red lacy thong that you had just bought yourself with the idea of Jessie taking it off in mind.
When you sat down next to her in your first class you watched her eyes attach to your chest, her mouth falling slightly open.
“Like what you see Fleming?” You gently shake your chest in her direction.
“Are you trying to make me fail?”
“No. If anything I’m helping you. If you’re good today and pay attention during class I’ll let you see what I’ve got under my skirt.” You lean over, letting your hot breath tickle her neck and ear “not to give away the secret but it’s lacy and red and I bought it with you in mind.”
Her face flushes but she grabs out her notebook and a pen. You watch as she actually takes notes in class for once, instead of just doodling and then asking you for help later when she doesn’t understand something.
You continue to tease her over the next few classes, you can tell she’s becoming more and more frustrated as the day goes on. She’s more frequently glancing at your chest, biting her lip, she even tries to place her hand on your thigh in your last class. Quickly pushing her hand away she sends a begging glance your way. You turn to her and mouth ‘later’ to her. She rolls her eyes and goes back to taking notes.
That’s how you ended face down, ass in the air with Jessie pounding herself into you. You finally had broken through and she was being rough with you.
She had thrown you around the second you walked into her apartment. She had nearly ripped your shirt pulling it over your head and stripped you of your bra while you were still against the wall in the hallway to her bedroom. She had ordered you to leave the thong on after she pushed you onto her bed. She had walked to her dresser, grabbed the strap and lube as she usually did and came back over to you. Her hands had spread your legs, and she dropped her face to start teasing you.
She had licked and touched you through the fabric of your underwear, making you feel some of the same teasing that you had put her through all day. She had grabbed the fabric between her teeth, pulling it back before letting it snap against your skin making you moan.
Instead of taking it off Jessie had pushed the fabric to the side, holding it with her thumb, and let her tongue start pleasing you. Each time she would feel your legs begin to shake and your grip on her head get tighter, she’d pull back much to your disappointment. She was edging you, teasing you as much as she could and it was ruining you. You whined after she pulled away for the second time.
“Oh my god, Jessie seriously?” You were getting frustrated with her the way she’d get you so close to the edge and pull away.
“This is what happens when you’re a fucking tease all day. Wearing that tight fucking shirt, putting your tits on display for everyone, telling me about this tiny little thing.” She snaps the elastic of your thong again. “You did this to yourself.”
You were so sensitive, squirming under her as she held you in place, after the third time she pulled away when she returned she added fingers into you with her tongue. It took only a couple thrusts before you closed your legs around her, cumming hard on her face and fingers. Jessie wasn’t done, not satisfied with her reward for being a good student today she continued.
Giving you no time to recover she pulled down your now soaking wet thong, leaving you completely bare. She had flipped you over and pulled your hips up and toward her own. She had never fucked you in this position before, you usually were facing each other in some way. Not wanting to actually hurt you she had still paused to put lube on despite how wet you already were, your arousal dripping down making your thighs and the bed wet. She had pushed into you at a quick but still sensible pace. The new position made your hole even tighter, you felt her stretching you out.
Jessie didn’t wait this time for you to say anything, she started thrusting immediately pulling the whole length out, leaving just the tip touching your entrance before slamming her hips back into yours. The first few thrusts were pleasure mixed with pain but something about the mixed feeling, torn between pushing her away and wanting to pull her even closer was exhilarating.
“You’re taking me so fucking well. Being such a good girl.” You hadn’t explicitly discussed it but Jessie had quickly realized you had a small praise kink. She had accidentally called you a good girl another time in bed and you had blushed at the phrase while letting out a dirty moan. It should’ve been obvious given that you were a people pleaser, a teacher's pet, it made sense that being told you were doing well was a turn on.
“So perfect for me, you're being such a good reward, letting me take you like this, letting me do whatever I want to you. So good.”
Jessie’s words were surprising, in the numerous times you had slept together in the past week, she had never been this vocal. Some moaning and a couple words here and there but it was simple stuff. Her telling you you’re doing good, that you feel good, taste good, but never to the extent of what she was telling you now.
With the previous edging and orgasm it’s only a couple minutes before you’re shaking under her,
“You want to cum again? Make a mess on my cock?”
“Mhmm” not able to get out words you moan in response. Her thrusts stop, her dick fully inside of you. She leans forward somehow making it feel like the strap on was even further inside of you. Her hand comes up to grab your hair and pull your head up and off the pillow. You’re now looking at the ceiling and can just barely see Jessie’s face
“Good girls use their words.” Those words falling from her mouth in a husky voice is nearly enough for you to cum without any further stimulation.
“Yes I want to cum.” You’re able to get out the words now that she’s not pounding into you.
“Ask the right way.” Her grip on your head tightens as she waits for you to beg for her.
You weren’t fully sure what she meant by the right way, but you knew she’d tell you if it was wrong.
“Please Jessie, please make me cum, I want to cum for you, can I?” You’re whining, hoping she doesn’t deny your plea. You didn’t have much experience with dirty talk, you had previously felt uncomfortable saying much of anything in the bedroom, but with Jessie it was comfortable and she made you want to beg.
“Good girl.” She says as she drops your hair moving her hands back to your hips. Her thrusting picks up right where it left off, she’s picking up speed, you're being thrown forward so hard you have to put your hands on the headboard to make sure you don’t hit it.
“Fuck, I’m going to cum Jess, please.”
“Go ahead.” She says so calmly, as if she was giving you permission to take the last piece of cake, not for you to unravel underneath her in a writhing mess. Unable to hold yourself up as you give in to your orgasm you collapse onto the bed, laying down flat, your face turned to the side, eyes screwed shut, you’re biting your lip so hard you’re sure there will be blood, groans coming through your teeth.
Jessie doesn’t stop when you collapse under her or when she feels your legs shaking. She lowers herself to stay inside of you. She keeps thrusting as you cum around her.
“Jess” a whine comes from your lips trying to let her know you were on your way to being oversensitive, the edging from before taking its toll.
“Give me one more.” She demands from behind you.
“I can’t.” You’re really not sure if you can or not, the feeling between your legs is so overwhelming you’re not sure how much longer you can take it.
“Yes you can and you will. Be a good girl. You wanted to cum, I’m letting you cum.”
Her praise has you wanting to listen to her, wanting to follow her command. She puts her body weight onto you, she’s warm and sweaty, the new angle gives you a slight relief as she’s hitting a new spot inside of you but it’s only a few seconds later that you feel another orgasm surface again.
Your moans get softer until you’re left with your mouth open, no noise coming out as you have your third orgasm that afternoon. This one was short, pleasure running through your body only for it to be immediately followed up by the pain of overstimulation. Tears start to fill your eyes, you whole body feels like it’s on fire, every nerve ending screaming at you. Instinctively you try to pull yourself away from Jessie as she continues to fuck into you but her weight is holding you to the bed, unable to move.
“Fuck Jessie. Stop, stop!” You're able to throw your hand behind your back finding her hips that had already stalled at your word to stop. “Fuck.”
Jessie is frozen behind you, she doesn’t move at all. The strap is halfway into you, it remains there as she stops moving.
“What do you want me to do? Pull out?” Her voice that was previously full of confidence and arrogance is now one of concern and comfort.
“No, don’t pull out yet, just give me a second.” You were done, you wanted her to pull out but knew the sensation of her sliding out would be uncomfortable in the moment.
“You don’t have to be frozen Jess.” You could feel how tense she was behind you. Trying to reassure her that she wasn’t going to break you if she moved. She readjusts slowly putting more of her weight off of you and onto her own legs, making sure not to move her hips and change how she was inside of you.
“Take it out please.” Feeling yourself relax enough, you tell her to pull out. Jessie follows your direction, gently moving her hips back from yours to pull out. You curse into the pillow as she does, the drag of the strap against your overly sensitive walls was uncomfortable.
“Did I hurt you?” You can't see, still face down in the pillow, but she sounds quiet and far away, you no longer can feel her touch against your skin.
“Not really? I don’t know?” You’re really not sure, you’ve never been so overstimulated, it wasn’t necessarily painful but it wasn’t a good feeling. It was on the tiny line between pain and immense pleasure. Using what strength you had left you use your arms to push yourself up and flip over. Jessie’s hands grab your calves and help move your legs, resting one on each side of where she was sat back on her feet. “It was just too much I think. But I’m not hurt, no.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize, you didn't do anything wrong. Technically you did everything right, you did it so well, I couldn’t handle it.” You make a joke trying to lighten her mood. She grabs the strap on the harness and slides them off, picking up each leg to slide it off and tossing it to the floor.
“Can I lay down?” You know she’s referring to if she can lay down on top of you, a small action she had started doing after sex. She had done it out of exhaustion the first few times and once when she didn’t do it, you had made a comment about it. Now she does it everytime. There was something so safe about both of you laying, skin to skin, after letting her do unmentionable things to you just moments before.
“Please do.” You weren’t sure if this time it was more for you or her. It was usually you asking for her to lay but the way you could read the guilt on her face made you realize that maybe today, being able to lay on you would help her more than it would you.
She gently places her body on top of yours, her arms wrap about and under your back, her face falls into the crook of your neck. You face goes to the same place on her. You stay wrapped together, neither of you moving, just breathing and holding each other.
“I think I got a little carried away.” She says into your neck. Jessie presses herself up, putting her face above yours. “I’m sorry. I just, with the teasing all day, not that it’s your fault. I just got so pent up, I should’ve checked in before we started. To see if it was okay to be like that.”
“Hey it’s okay, I would've told you to do exactly what you did, the whole reason I teased you was because I wanted to rile you up, to get you to be rough with me.”
“You want me to be rough?” She gives you a questioning glance.
“Yes, I’ve been trying to get you to be for a couple days now.” You let your hand gently drag up and down her back reassuring her with physical touch.
“Oh. Sorry I was too rough.” You can tell by her face she still feels guilty.
“Please don’t feel bad about what just happened. I really enjoyed it Jessie, it just became too much. But I really liked how you were talking to me.” Your hands come up to cover your face as you admit to her you liked her dirty talk.
“Oh yeah?” Her cockiness comes back for a moment. She moves your hands away from your face and plants a kiss on your lips. It’s a quick kiss, nothing sexual about it. She had been doing that more often. Giving you kisses when you’d walk by, giving you a kiss when you’d show up at her door, a kiss when you get ready to go back home.
“Do you need anything? Water? Food? Do you need pain meds?”
“Maybe just a shower.” Normally Jessie took the time to clean you up after you had sex, she’d bring a towel or washcloth with warm water and gently clean you up, but after today she had wanted to stay close to you, not wanting to even wander off as far as the bathroom for a couple minutes.
“Yeah of course.” Jessie moved off of your body, hopping off the bed and standing next to you. She held her hands out to you. Feeling the soreness already setting in you swung your legs over the side of the bed and hopped onto the floor. Jessie held your hands before moving a hand to your waist watching you wobble as you began to step toward the bathroom. She turned on the water for you and grabbed out a fresh towel.
“I’ll be in the living room if you need anything, just shout and I’ll come.” She turns to leave. Part of you wants to ask if she’ll join you. You decide against it. Jessie had yet to fully undress in front of you at any point during sex. She had made it routine to take off her shirt and pants but never further than that. You were okay with that, you didn’t mind being on the receiving end, but you also had a small urge to return the favor. You wanted to make her feel even half as good as she had been able to make you feel. You wanted to make her feel comfortable and safe enough with you to take them off if she wanted to.
You couldn’t help but think if she’d been intimate in that way with anyone else. You’re sure she had but the more you thought about it, you could only recall times she had talked about her doing things to girls, never anyone returning the favor. You shook that thought from your head, that was her choice, not for you to push.
Jumping from one thought to the next your brain brought up the question of what were you doing? What was the point with Jessie? Was it just experimenting? Was it just for fun? Was she just a good fuck? Friends with benefits maybe? The longer you stood under the water the longer you thought about her. The longer you thought about the brown hair, brown eyed girl waiting in the other room, the more you realized, you maybe didn’t want to just be friends with benefits. You quickly shut off the water, realizing you had been in the shower a significant amount of time and Jessie would probably come to check on you if you didn’t emerge shortly.
You stepped out, wrapping a towel around your chest. You moved to the other side of the bathroom, taking a second to look in the mirror. You pulled the towel open, to look at the full extent of Jessie’s work. You were littered with hickeys, some from days before, now a light yellow shade as they nearly faded. Others a deep blood red, from only a few minutes ago. She had put them everywhere, your stomach, your chest, your collarbone, shoulders, hip bones, there were a few on the inside of your thighs. There were a few tiny ones on your neck. All low down that they could be easily hidden with a hoodie, your only request to her. As you looked at each one you could remember the feeling of her lips and tongue, taking the time to make the mark on your skin.
“Admiring something?” Jessie’s voice startles you, causing you to jump.
“Just the marks you left.” You turn to her, holding your towel still open. Her eyes drag over your body slowly, stopping for a second at each mark.
“Some of my finest work.” She smirks at you. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you, you were just taking a while, wanted to make sure you were still standing.”
“Yeah sorry I just got lost in though. If your water bill is extreme this month I’ll cover it.” You wrap yourself back up in the towel.
“Do you want some other clothes? I can’t imagine that bra is in the slightest bit comfortable.” She’s already rummaging through her drawers for a shirt and sweatpants. She tosses both in your direction. “Underwear too? I think I have a clean pair of yours from a different time.” Her hands flip through a stack of clothes in a wash basket. The pair of underwear comes flying from her hand in your direction.
“Yeah it wasn’t super comfortable and neither was the thong but it was worth it.” You pull on the clothes she gave you. A pair of her UCLA sweatpants and a plain black shirt were a lot more comfortable than the outfit you had been wearing. After dressing you follow Jessie out to her living room. She had gotten out a textbook and notebook paper while you were in the shower.
“Wow, did I turn you into a good student or something?” You say sarcastically, Jessie usually didn’t pull out school work unless you encouraged her to. “If you had just told me all it took was a good bra and a tight shirt to get you to take your own notes I would’ve whipped out a tit a long time ago.”
She looks up at you, unamused by your joke. Moving into her kitchen you grab yourself a glass and fill it before moving back to where Jessie was sitting.
You both work side by side on your assignments, you notice you have to help Jessie less than normal, or maybe it’s just she’s trying harder than she normally does. You can tell when she starts to struggle with a question. Normally she’d turn to you for an explanation, instead today she’ll try it herself. She’ll use the textbook, she even opens the notes she had taken in class, and then if she still needs help she’ll poke you with her pen until you look at her. It’s a nice change, seeing her put forth more effort than normal toward school.
If anything it was you having a hard time getting your work done today. You couldn’t stop thinking about what it was you and Jessie were doing. The same question of was it just friends with benefits, crept up and over again.
“Can I ask you something?” You let the words come out before you have the chance to second guess it.
“Anything.” Jessie says not looking up from where she was writing on her paper. You both had always responded that way when asking each other if you could bring something up. It was what made you such good friends, the openness and communication with one another.
“What are we doing?”
“I’m doing calculus, I don’t know what you’re doing though, you have out your chemistry book but you’re doing physics homework.”
“No Jessie, I mean what are we doing? With the sex?” This draws her attention. She puts her pen down and looks at you.
“What do you mean?”
“Is it just meaningless sex to you?” You needed to know, was this just a hookup for her. You wanted to know if you’d be replaced as soon as she found someone else more suitable, someone who could handle her without stopping her.
“It’s definitely not meaningless.”
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t know, what do you think it is?” She deflects the question back at you.
“I don’t know Jessie, I thought it was just fun, originally I did. But recently, I don’t know. And it’s making me question things and it’s just a little overwhelming.”
“I know what you mean.”
Unsure of what to say you just sit, biting your lip as you think. “I’m not sure if I’m just confused, because we’re so close and we’ve been friends for a while, and now with the sex, I don’t know, I can’t tell what my feelings are, but they’re different then they were before.” You were pretty sure you were developing feelings for her. You had also never had feelings towards another girl so that added confusion on top of the confusion of her being your best friend. “I think about you a lot, more than I did before.”
“I do too, think about you a lot more than I used to. It’s confusing.”
“Would you want to try figuring that out? Like us together?” This was your poor attempt to ask her out on a date, to try exploring those feelings and seeing where they took you.
“Are you implying we date?”
“I don’t know, maybe?”
“I don’t really date, you of all people should know that based on my history.”
“Yeah well based on my history I don’t really have sex with women but apparently things can change.” You throw up your hands in frustration. Jessie doesn’t say anything. She just sits, her pen now back in her hand as she plays with it.
“You know what, forget I said anything.” Embarrassed now that she had essentially rejected your offer on a date you closed your textbook and started to back your stuff. You didn’t want to sit here with her after being rejected.
“No wait.” Jessie puts her hand on top of the textbook stopping you from putting it into your backpack. “I just don’t really know how to.”
“How to what?”
“How to do the whole dating thing. I haven’t actually dated anyone in years, and the last time I did it ended so badly, I just decided to ignore feelings and decided to just stick with sleeping around since, no feelings, no commitments, just the fun, and I’ve been doing that for so long, I don’t know how to do dating. I don’t think I’d do it right.”
“There’s no right way to do it. It’s however we’d want to.” You couldn’t believe you were having this conversation, that there was a small possibility that this could work. “That’s the thing about dating, it’s a trial and error process, that’s why people don’t just jump straight to marriage, dating is for learning. Think of it this way, nothing would really change with us, we already hang out everyday, we know everything about each other, we know the sexual chemistry is there, it would just be adding in the couple-y things.”
“Okay, trial and error, I can do that with you. I’m just nervous I’ll end up losing you. If something were to happen.”
“Is that a yes, you want to try this?” You gesture between the two of you.
“Yes.” Jessie nods, a small smile across her face.
“Okay. I should get going then.” You pick up the textbook you were in the process of packing up, actually throwing it into your backpack this time before sliding the bag onto your shoulders.
“What? Why?” She jumps up from her position on the floor, concerned why you’d be leaving after you just agreed to date.
“I have a hot date to pick up tonight, I have to get ready.” You wink at her and see the realization cross her mind that she meant you. “Be ready by 6.” You check your watch quickly, making sure that gives both of you enough time to get ready. She follows you to the door and you turn to face her to say goodbye. She leans in to steal a kiss but you move your head and place your hands on her shoulders stopping her from coming closer.
“I don’t kiss before the first date. Try again tonight.” You send her a smirk and she rolls her eyes at you. You step out and close the door to her apartment behind you. Reality starts to set in, you just asked her out, and she said yes. Butterflies build up in your stomach, you were taking her out on a date, your best friend.
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luveline · 10 hours
Note
You mentioned in one post that bombshell!reader was furious with the team for not helping Reid with his addiction (as she should be)…. Would you maybe write about her helping him thru withdrawal or thru the cravings that follow? Maybe subtly at first, then just making sure he knew he wasn’t alone? Just some tender moments where Spencer starts to realize she actually cares about him, even if he doesn’t believe her flirting yet.
-🌕
I love every single thing you write, even for fandoms I’m not even in. You’re amazing!!
thank you for requesting my sweetheart!!! I really hope this is what you wanted, love you <3 fem!reader
cw past drug abuse
“Hi, Spencer Reid.” 
You perch on the edge of his desk with no further introduction. You’ve changed perfumes, to his immediate recognition, the rich smell of your usual parfum swapped for a less consuming scent. He detects apple blossom, and rose, the smallest hint of jasmine, a contrast to your usual vanilla and peony. The human brain can remember 50,000 scents, and Spencer can remember all of yours. Or, he could. 
“You’re not saying hi anymore?” 
“Hi, Y/N.” 
“Hi. It’s nice to see you.” You put your hand on his. Spencer isn’t sure you’ve ever touched his hand before, he’s never really let you, but he doesn’t move away. A huge winding of tension between his shoulders begins to unspool. “It’s really nice to see you, babe. I’ve missed you tons and tons.” 
He looks up tentatively. “You have?” 
“I have. I haven’t really been invited, today. I’m just here to see you.” 
“Why?” Spencer asks. 
You tighten your fingers on his hand. “Missed you. Thought maybe we should, like…” And that’s unusual, for you to use filler words, Spencer doesn’t know what to think of it. “Well, I have something to say to you, and it’s going to either sound reassuring or ridiculous.” 
“Okay.” 
You give him a withering look. “Don’t make it any easier for me.” 
He laughs. The sound alone fosters your smile. “Sorry,” he says softly, “I doubt it’ll be ridiculous.” 
“Spencer Reid, we are friends. We are. But we never do anything outside of work, so I was thinking you could come over tonight and we’d make dinner and watch TV and stuff.” 
“And stuff.” 
“I’m a bit nervous,” you confess, looking down at your lap, then quickly back up into his face, “I’m worried you won’t want to.” 
You’re kind to avoid saying what he’s sure you’re thinking; you’re worried he won’t want to spend the night with you, and instead will look down the long barrel of a small needle. Or, he thinks that’s what you’re thinking. He does it to everyone. 
“What do you want to make for dinner?” he asks. 
“What are you enjoying lately?” 
“I… I don’t know. I’m not really eating.”
“Cereal?” 
“Yes,” he laughs. “Lots of cereal.” 
You tap the wheel of his chair with your heel. You’re dressed as though you aren’t working, wearing a sweet dark dress with a starched collar and baby sleeves, stockings, and a necklace at your neck that glows with a small white crystal. You look amazing. It never makes any sense to Spencer, why you’d taken an interest in him, and why you bother now. He knows he’s hard to care for. He knows he’s making it worse. 
You look up and down his face. You must see the purple half circles beneath his eyes, the crack at the corner of his mouth, the cut he can’t stop picking on his cheek. Every time it scabs, he opens it again. One second he’s sitting there and the next he’s got blood under his fingernail. 
“Hug?” you ask hopefully. 
He goes to stand. You move in too fast and wrap your arms around him, leg slotting between his, leaning over his shoulders with a distinct sense of protectiveness. You squeeze him, a little sigh escaping you that sounds loud so close to his ear. 
“How has it been this week?” you ask quietly. 
“It’s fine.” He cups your back in his arm carefully. The other wraps tight around the small of it. He soaks you up, scared you’re gonna pull away any second. 
“How are you feeling about it? Do you need any extra help?” 
He cringes. “No,” he says. “It’s really fine.” 
“When you texted me, about the cravings? What are they like today?” 
He wishes he could breathe in the smell of your perfume and your skin and tell you they’re all better now. It would make sense; there isn’t much in his life that hasn’t been made better by your attention. He’d struggle to do this without you. You’re his only friend who actually cared enough to say the problem out loud, but you’re just a woman, you can’t work the sort of magic necessary to kick this for him. 
“Spencer?” You pull away, nudging his cheek with the back of your finger. 
“They’re okay. I’m not gonna do anything.” 
“Good, honey. I’m proud of you. I know how hard this is.” 
He bites the inside of his lip, surprised at your caring. He shouldn’t be.
“What are you two whispering about?”
You and Spencer have different reactions to Emily’s sudden question. He flinches like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and you, still vaguely pissed with everyone for not telling you Spencer was struggling and not afraid to show it, keep your eyes trained on his face. 
“Nothing,” Spencer says. 
You turn to her with a small smile. You still like her, Spencer knows. Secretly, he’s pleased you’re angry for him. It’s nice to have someone so obviously on his side. “We’re just deciding what to get for dinner.” 
“Oh, nice. Date night?” she teases. 
You press your cheek to his forehead. “Date night,” you agree, your hand unmissable where it bunches in his sweater near his heart. 
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kamiversee · 3 days
Text
➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 52 || The Things Done in Private
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, smut, & angst if u squint.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.6k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——WHILE YOU WERE BUSY confessing your love to Choso and having that long-ass conversation in his car, Geto and Yuki had been left in the cafe.
When you initially left to chase after Choso, Geto and Yuki turned to each other before laughing. They found the entire thing entertaining more than ever and swore they were watching a drama unfold.
But, after the shared laughter, Yuki smacked Geto’s arm, “Now, why the hell did you cause all that?” She asked with a raised brow.
Geto snickered, “Because there’s too much they don’t know about each other.”
Yuki scoffed, “Meaning?”
“I can’t explain it all to you since it’s not my place but, trust me when I say, there are things she needs to talk to him about,” Geto explained vaguely.
“Right… So you and her really were good friends?”
“We could’ve ended up besties,” Geto hums, shrugging to himself, “But, I didn’t want to put myself between her and…”
“Her and Choso?” Yuki questions with a tilt of her head.
“No, someone else,” Geto murmurs. He didn’t want to mention Gojo again because, in his mind, Yuki didn’t need to know all of your business, “Anyway, I brought up Sukuna to help the two. Watch them come back as a married couple within the next thirty minutes.”
Yuki scoffs, “Y’know what, let’s bet on it!” She exclaims, moving to stick her hand out, “Thirty minutes; she comes back alone ready to kick your ass because you fucked it all up for her.”
Geto snickers and moves to shake the blonde’s hand, “Thirty minutes; they come back together happier than ever.”
The two shake each other’s hands firmly, solidifying their bet and deciding that the loser would have to buy the winner something.
Turns out they were both wrong though because as they spent the rest of their time together talking and catching up, two hours had passed, and neither you nor Choso had returned. It was raining outside and the sound of thunder is what caused Geto to remember the bet made.
He turned to look out the window behind him, seeing how hard it was raining, and letting out a scoff, “Seems we were both wrong.”
“Think they’re okay?” Yuki asks.
“I’m sure they’re fine,” Geto shrugged, “Probably long gone by now anyway.”
Yuki sighed and moved to rest her cheek against her knuckles, “That’s no funn, they were supposed to come backkk…”
Geto shakes his head at the woman as he moves to stand up, her eyes following him, “It’s for the best, I’m sure. Plus, it started raining not too long after they walked out so it makes sense they didn't come back.”
She rolls her eyes at him, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Where are you going?”
“Home,” Geto sighs, “I have a roommate to feed.”
Yuki lets out a snort, “To feed? You talk about Gojo as if he were a pet.”
“He is sometimes,” The raven-haired male jokes, “But I meant I should go home and tell him what happened here, he’d want to know.”
She raises a brow, “Why?”
“He’s nosy and will wanna know why I stayed out longer than I told him I would,” Geto explains, chuckling to himself as he grabs his things.
“So basically,” Yuki starts laughing a bit, “You have to keep your boyfriend updated with your social life?”
Geto frowns, “He’s not my boyfriend, stop that.”
The woman begins to snicker, “Right, right, sure.”
Geto rolls his eyes and after grabbing his bag, he turns to walk away, “I’ll see you later, Yuki.”
“Oh come onn, you can’t just leave me here!” She huffs, “At least give me a ride homeee…”
“Nope, you’re the one who thought a bike would be a better investment than a car,” Geto replies as he furthers away from her.
The sound of her groaning dramatically is the last thing Geto hears before exiting the cafe. He was lucky enough to have an umbrella in the bag he brought with him so he quickly opened the item and swung it up and over his head.
Making his way through the parking lot, he sees that Choso’s car is no longer where it was earlier and the sight makes Geto curious. He then glances to where he remembers your car being parked and once he sees it was left in the same place, he smiles to himself.
He knew things would work out just fine.
After that, Geto makes it to his vehicle and steadily gets in. Today was quite the day and he started to wonder what his best friend was doing while you were here at the cafe all this time…
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
The answer to that was simple. 
Gojo Satoru had been going through it at home. Since he had the apartment to himself and no Suguru to vent to because he was out, Gojo was quite literally losing his mind.
From the second you walked out the door, Gojo rested his head against it and wondered if he should go after you and take everything he said back. Perhaps there was a way for him to fix things-
Yeah, no. He purged those thoughts from his mind the moment they came. And of course, to make matters worse, you left him with an annoying tent in his pants.
Gojo let out a groan as he lifted his head from the door and trudged to his bedroom. He kicked his door shut and shuffled over to his bed, laying face first against it and grunting at the friction against his member.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Gojo grumbled to himself. It was one of those aggravating boners that wouldn’t die down.
You often left him like this too. Nearly every time Gojo had the pleasure of kissing you, he’d gotten hard. Whether it was during the kiss or directly after, it never mattered, his cock always sprung up because of you.
Hell, even on Christmas when you first hugged him he had to control his body. You made him feel like a teenager with the way the smallest touches from you went straight to his dick.
As of now, his tip was leaking in precum the more he thought about you. Gojo had to shift around to lay on his back, his legs hanging off the bed as he stared up at his ceiling still thinking about you.
Do you know what you do to him?  Are you aware of how much the very idea of you turns him on? Gojo shuts his eyes to try and calm his thoughts but it’s no help, the second his eyelids shut, he’s picturing you all over again.
His hand moves on its own to rest over the bulge in his sweats as he has images of you staring up at him in his head, the sound of you uttering his name simply echoing through his brain.
Fuck, he loved the way you said his name. His fingers curl around his length and he palms himself through his clothes. He’d do anything to hear you moan his name again.
It feels like it’s been forever. Part of Gojo feels like he should’ve kept you with him longer. You were in such a perfect position too, all he’d have to do was lift you up against that door and fuck you right then and there.
His hand movements over the prominent print of his cock grow more eager and Gojo sighs heavily. Then, he decides that his boner isn’t going to go down on its own so he might as well just take care of it already.
Gojo starts to move around, shifting his sweats down enough and sitting up while pulling his phone out. He could use his imagination of you to get off no problem but, another idea had come to mind. It was perverted of him but he didn’t care.
His fingers tapped over his phone screen quickly, moving to head to the nearest social app, which in this case was Instagram. He knew yours by heart and was quick to type it in, feeling like such a pervert as he prepared himself for what he was about to do.
Gojo was beyond desperate so he went through your page, finding a picture of you from the summertime. The caption said something about the last photo being taken by Shoko but Gojo wasn’t paying attention to any of that.
There was a collection of images posted, one in particular imprinted in the man’s brain from a while ago. He swiped through the images before he landed on it. It was taken in a bathroom, dim lighting showing what was important and good god Gojo’s cock was twitching at the sight.
It was the only image posted that could be considered a thirst trap. You hand one hand on the counter and the other up at your lip, the pose seeming as though you were checking yourself out in the mirror. In your reflection, your cleavage was exposed and one of the straps to the thin tank top you wore was hanging off your shoulder.
You were braless but no one could really tell unless they paid close enough attention, which Gojo did. Then, the entirety of your back profile was revealed as well, the arch you had as you leaned forward and the way the small shorts you wore clung to your ass made Gojo let out a heavy breath.
This was so fucked up. He shouldn’t be doing this but there he was anyway, reaching his hand into his briefs and tugging his cock out.
So much of your skin was exposed and the shorts you were wearing was the perfect tease. Gojo knew what you looked like beneath all that after all, he knows what you feel like, what you smell like, what you sound like.
So, this photo of you was just enough to feed his imagination. He knew you at the time this picture was taken, just never talked to you. 
Even so, none of that mattered right now, not when this one photo was enough to have Gojo’s mind running rampant. His hand started moving on its own, a groan leaving his lips as his fingers wrapped around his cock and he began to jerk himself off.
He’d done this plenty of times with you in mind but never to a photo before. What would you think if you saw him like this? Legs spread, veiny hands running up and down his shaft as his eyes remained glued to such a teasing picture.
“Fuck,” Gojo moaned, just thinking about you ever seeing him like this drove him crazy.
He soon tosses his phone and just leans back a little, focusing on relieving himself. All he needed was that image in mind to continue, his imagination coaxing him through his acts.
Gojo let out a pant as he started to picture you instead of his hand. He remembered so vividly how you forced him to list all the things he missed about you whilst teasing him, the way your index was swirling around his tip so teasingly— he mimicked the motion and had to bite his lip to conceal a whine.
He recalls how small your hand is compared to his cock and the way you’d jerked him off so slowly. Gojo has every moment with you imprinted into the forefront of his brain, if he thinks hard enough, he could almost feel you over him again.
Your cunt was always so damn wet, so tight, so fucking intoxicating. Gojo’s hand began to increase in pace, slick sounds of him jerking off filling his room. He wishes that the last time he had sex with you, he was able to touch you because fuck is it torture to think back on it now.
He wanted so badly to grab onto your hips and fuck his lengthy cock up into you, only to praise you for taking him so well. And then there was today and the sounds you let out just from a couple of kisses. How whiney and breathy your voice had been as you’d uttered a simple don’t stop while grinding against his leg.
Gojo missed touching you already. His eyes shut for a moment and his lips parted, a whine of your name leaving his lips. Now he was making up scenarios in his head, using that picture you posted as inspiration. He could only imagine the kind of sounds and expressions you’d make if he was ever able to fuck you from behind.
He can picture how your eyes would roll back, the way your jaw would drop and you’d moan his name over and over, and even how your ass would feel bouncing off his pelvis every time he thrust into you. Gojo would take any kind of sex from you right now.
Sloppy sex where it’s all just a mess and both of you are completely fucked out, slow sex where he’s deep inside you and whispering in your ear how much he loves you, or even rough sex where he’s fucking you dumb and hearing you whine about how you can’t take it— even though he knows you can.
“S-Shit-,” Gojo moans again, knowing that you can handle him just makes his mind go blank.
Hell, you’d probably tease him if he were to have sex with you now, tell him how he’s not deep enough just to rile him up, order him to fuck you harder, and cum inside you. Gojo’s wrist was getting tired from how hard and fast he began stroking his dick.
He needed you so badly. He could hardly bring himself to a proper orgasm anymore. His eyes open and his free hand reaches for his phone again, this time he does something even more desperate. Gojo went to his voicemails, having one saved from you.
It was a while ago and you were cursing him out for something but his brain was too dazed with arousal to remember. What he wanted to hear was simply you saying his name. His thumb was shaking a bit as he went through the message you left, up until he heard your voice mutter his name.
“Satoru-,” He couldn’t hear anything else after that and his head went back, hand stroking himself even faster as he replayed that second of you voicing his name.
“Mmgh… fuck, n-need you s’bad, sweetheart,” He mumbled out, as if you could hear him. Gojo was releasing his moans and groans more freely now.
He soon looked down at how his hand slid up and down his cock so quickly, the amount of precum that’d come out smothering his length and making it seem like he already came. Gojo whined and even whimpered when he pictured you above him, you rode his dick so well that he’d never be able to forget it.
He vividly recalls how your folds parted around his cock, how eagerly your cunt sucked him in. Shit, speaking of sucking, he wished he got to experience that mouth of yours. 
Geto bragged about it to him before, telling him you knew how to throat cock surprisingly well. How you’d keep your eyes up despite them watering and flicking to the back of your head. The way you felt moaning around his shaft-, Gojo was losing it.
He had dropped his phone to the side again and his free hand went to his bedsheets, knuckles turning white as his fingers curled into them. His cock ached in his hand, tip twitching as he started to cum mid-stroke. 
He didn’t stop though, whimpering out your name so softly as his dick remained hard and he started overstimulating himself.
“Oh shit-,” Gojo moaned into the air, “F-Fuck, fuck… god-,” He tossed his head back again and the wet sounds of him jerking off grew even louder and messier as he spread his cum all over his cock.
You had him this much of a mess. He got this horny because of you. Gojo doesn’t know if he’s ever feined for sex from a specific person this badly in his life. He’d take anything from you, even a text from you right now would help him.
He ended up laying back as he kept stroking himself, recalling the smallest moments with you to get himself off. For example, when you had sex with Suguru, he remembers how you moaned and how loud everything was. He remembers the sound of you creaming around his best friend.
Gojo’s member was twitching again while he remembered how loudly the slap of your skin to his best friend’s was. His hand squeezes around his cock and he chokes as he recalls you riding him in a similar way. His dick had just slipped in and out of you so nicely, so perfectly, he wanted to feel that again.
Then Gojo could only imagine what you were like with other guys, what things you did with them, and how you looked doing so. 
He cums yet again at the thought and wonders if you knew the things you did to his body. His orgasm was fine but he swore it’d be better if you were here.
Gojo’s hand eventually came to a stop and he relaxed himself, his cock softening as he huffed out heavy pants. How the hell was he ever going to function properly without you?
He knows he has to but it’d be hard. Did he really just let you go? He could’ve kept blackmailing you…
No. You’d hate that. You’d probably cry. Yeah, Gojo didn’t like thinking about that again. Seeing you cry and even once hearing you cry over the phone still haunted him.
He just finished jerking off to you and now all he can think about is the shit he put you through. But hey, at least it’s over now, right? At least you’re happy.
And safe.
That’s all he cares about at the end of the day. Gojo’s heart will heal. He’ll move on eventually. He’ll go back to normal sooner or later.
Right?
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Wrong. Within the next hour, Gojo was jerking off again.
He had a problem at this point because he was standing beside his bed with a picture of you on his phone as he got off to it. These acts of his just continued.
The slightest thought of you for some reason made his cock twitch back to life. Was he in heat or something? It’s like his body was craving you today more than ever and he didn’t know why.
Sessions of getting off to different pictures and thoughts of you went on and on up until the sound of Geto calling Gojo’s name was heard.
By that point, Gojo was sweating and he had to rush around his bedroom to clean himself off before responding to his roommate.
“Uh, g-gimme’ a sec’,” Gojo huffed.
Even from outside his room, Geto knew what had been going on. After all, it wasn’t the first time he came home to Gojo thirsting after you. Hell, there was a time Geto walked by the bathroom and heard Gojo moan your name.
He knew his white-haired friend had a problem but he never really knew just how bad it was. Or at least, he didn’t know Gojo was simply obsessed with you.
“Satoru, you can’t keep doing this man,” Geto sighed out to his friend.
They hadn’t even laid eyes on one another and Geto already knew what was taking Gojo so long to come out.
After a minute or two, Gojo emerges from his room. Geto had to blink a few times at the sight of his best friend because he was simply a mess.
His hair was disheveled, his eyes were low, heavy pants leaving his lips, the shirt he clearly just put on already had sweat on it, and overall Gojo looked like he just run a marathon.
“Can’t keep doing what?” Gojo questioned casually.
Geto gave the man a blank stare as if to say he’s not dumb and he knew his best friend better than anyone but, afterward, he simply rolled his eyes, “Never mind.” He hums before turning away and heading toward their shared kitchen.
Gojo carefully followed behind his friend as he tried to clear his thoughts of you, “What do you mean never mind? I can’t keep doing what?”
“Jerking off to a woman who’s in love with someone else,” Geto says bluntly.
There’s a slight pang in Gojo’s chest but he ignores it as they both enter the kitchen, “I wasn’t-“
“Satoru, as soon as I walked in here, it smelt like dick…” He grumbles, his face twisting up in slight disgust.
“I-,” Gojo blinks and tilts his head innocently, “How do you know what dick smells like?”
Geto turns and looks at his friend with a blank stare, “I have one, idiot.”
“Okay but-“
“Enough, Satoru.” Geto says sternly, “I know what you were doing in there and there’s no need to deny it.”
“Right…” Gojo’s lips purse together as he goes to take a seat at the island in the middle of their kitchen.
“And I actually ran into your nut material earlier today.” The raven-haired male suddenly says before opening the fridge.
Gojo scoffs, “Nut material? Please don’t call her that.”
Geto snickers at his own comment, “That’s what you treat her like.”
Gojo frowns, “I do not-“
“Saw her with Choso, by the way.” Geto interrupts as he swipes a bottle of water out of the fridge.
“Oh.” Gojo chirps. Then his eyes go wide, “Oh?!”
“Yeah, oh.” He hums.
“How uh,” Gojo swallows hard. He can only imagine what it was like for you to be in the same area as Geto and Choso at the same time, “How did that go?”
“Oh I started an argument.” Geto shrugs before shutting the fridge and opening his water casually.
Gojo’s face twists up, “You what? Why would you do that? And how?”
“Brought up Sukuna just to test the waters, turns out she doesn’t know much about him aaaand Choso was obviously unaware that she slept with him.” Geto snickers a bit as he recalls how it went down.
“Y-You… You could’ve fucked everything up for her!” Gojo suddenly shouts.
His roommate doesn’t seem to get why that’s a bad thing, “Wouldn’t that have worked out in your favor?”
“No, no the fuck it wouldn’t have.” Gojo spits.
“And why not?”
“Because-,” Gojo lets out a heavy sigh, “The only reason she fucked Sukuna is because of me so who do you think she would’ve started hating again?”
Geto nods, thinking that his friend has made a fair point before he comments, “But at least she would’ve come back to you.”
“Yeah, come back to me hurting and pissed off.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Suguru, I don't want her to be with me, I want her to be happy,” Gojo explains.
His friend raises a brow at him, “Your actions say otherwise.”
“How?”
“When she left on Christmas you went in your room and cried the rest of the night.” He recalls.
Gojo scoffs, “I-“
“You don’t go a day without talking about her.” Geto continues.
“Suguru-“
“You’ve been talking about this woman for like three years now,” He reminds the man, “I’m not sure happiness is what you want for her. I think you just want her.”
Gojo stares for a long moment before looking away, “Well I can’t have her.”
“Why not?”
“Because I blackmailed her?” He says.
Geto tilts his head, “So?”
“What do you mean so?”
“Did she not forgive you?”
“Well she did but-“
“Then why couldn’t she have been with you?”
Gojo lets out a groan, “Because that’s fucked up, Suguru.”
“I think we established that a long time ago.” Geto scoffs, “Who cares if it’s fucked up? You pushed her away from you when she wanted to be fucked up with you.”
“She didn’t. She hated me and hated loving me even more.”
“And she has every right to but you’re missing the most important thing here; she loved you.”
“She shouldn’t have.”
“But she did.”
“Okay well, I can’t make her happy.” Gojo results in saying as he shrugs.
Geto bats his eyelashes at the man in confusion, “Why not?”
“Because I just can’t.”
“I don’t get you, y’know. You can’t even tell me what’s going on and I’m your best friend?”
“It doesn’t matter now anyway,” Gojo dismisses his question entirely, “The list is over and she’s happy.”
“Is she?” Geto challenges.
“Yes, yes she is.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I just do.”
Geto blinks, “That makes no sense-“
“Suguru, she’s happy now. Alright? Just leave it alone.” Gojo sighs.
The two get quiet after that. Geto moves to sip from his water and Gojo simply sits there with a tense expression.
After a while of silence, Geto just begins to explain how the entire cafe situation went from start to finish. He tells Gojo how he basically spilled the necessary info in order to give you the opportunity to tell Choso the truth.
Gojo asks why exactly he did that and Geto just tells him that he was right, you did seem happy but he knew that happiness wouldn’t last if the things you’d been doing never came to light. Again, Gojo gets upset and the two even argue about it.
That only results in Geto telling Gojo how you and Choso worked it all out anyway because when he left, your car was still there but Choso’s wasn’t.
Gojo couldn’t believe his best friend, even though the man was trying to help you, things could’ve gone so much worse for you. And knowing that made Gojo anxious because his best friend said that either way— Gojo would win.
If things went bad between you and Choso, you would’ve come back to Gojo without a doubt. But, since things went fine, Gojo still got what he wanted, which is you being happy.
So, Geto basically explains that what he caused was a win-win situation for his roommate who he knows cares oh so deeply about you.
Given that, by the end of their conversation, Gojo is still bothered by the chance of things almost going south for you but, he’s still thankful to his best friend to some extent. It’s not the worst thing that could’ve happened after all…
Thus resulting in Gojo back in his bedroom later that night, staring at your contact and wondering if he should call you. He didn’t want to ruin anything of course, he simply wanted to get info from you on how things went.
He knows you ended up leaving with Choso but that doesn’t tell him everything else that happened. Then again, Gojo is supposed to see you again to burn that cursed journal of yours so, he shuts his phone off and decides to simply wait until then.
He’ll learn everything when he sees you again and hopefully… Hopefully Gojo will be able to let you go. There’s too much guilt inside him to hold onto you any longer so he sees the burning of that journal as the end of a dark era for him.
That’ll be the end of his story with you, right?
Yeah, Gojo grins to himself, he thinks he can live with that.
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢
KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???
NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙
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mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
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tags;
@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx
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lovifie · 2 days
Text
Lift Me Off My Feet
Chapter 10: Ghost’s Date
Masterlist
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9
W: Ghost x Reader (+ Ghost x Price x Reader), threesome, douple p, a bit of choking, feelings.
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It's a couple of days after your little adventure with Soap, while you are making yourself a cup of coffee that Ghost enters the house. He walks behind you, smiling when you smile at him, he hugs you from behind kissing the back of your head. 
“How you doing, birdie?” He asks, resting his head on yours.
“Really good, Ghostie.” You answer, smiling enjoying the warmth of his body.
“Any plans for today?” He asks
“Yeah, I was planning on going running later, then I was going to go on a flight to Madagascar and probably have dinner at some terrorist organisation headquarters.” You answer, unnecessarily sarcastic knowing perfectly fine you can't leave the house. “Why? You wanna join?”
“Ha, ha. Well, since you are so busy I'll ask Gaz if he wants to help me with the dogs then.” He says casually, stepping back and chuckling when you whip your head around.
“Dogs?” You ask with a wide smile on your face. 
“Yeah, there is a bunch of new K-9 units and I have been assigned to arrange their trainers and partners.” He explains. “I thought you'd like to spend the afternoon with the puppies but it seems you're busy, so.”
“No, no, I'm not.” You quickly say, clinging to his t-shirt. “I'm sorry, I was just joking, sorry, sorry.” 
You lay your head on his chest, looking up to him with puppy eyes. 
“Can I see the doggies?” You ask smiling softly.
He chuckles, shaking his head at your antics and patting your butt. 
“Put on your shoes then, let's go.” You quickly scurry past him, coffee long forgotten on the kitchen counter. You end up being the one pulling him out of the house, excited to see dogs.
The fresh air of the outside fills your lungs when you take a deep breath making Ghost chuckle. “You're acting like the house doesn't have windows.” 
You laugh back, not being able to argue and walking towards the car. It is a quick drive back to base, and different from Soap, Ghost lets you open your own door waiting for you before the car to hold your hand on your way inside the dog kennels. 
The barks and whines of the puppies can be heard immediately and Ghost moves his hand to the small part of your back to push you forward telling you to go for them. 
You walk faster almost running until reaching the gate at the end of the hall where the puppies are, little tails wagging to the sound of your voice excited to meet new people. You crouch down getting your finger inside that immediately get bitten and licked by the little devils. 
“Want to help me give them their tags?” Ghost asks when he reaches you. “You need to go inside, I'm sure you'll hate it.”
You end up having the time of your life, once inside you sit on the floor close to the gate with Ghost sitting on the other side of the gate. He passes the collars with the tag for each dog, laughing when you try and identify each of the puppies when they won't stay still for a second. 
By the end, most of the dogs are already falling asleep around you; even some on top of you. And when you are done with the tags, Ghost moves to the desk to sign the last documents required.
“Oh, no!” You exclaim getting his attention. “He peed on me!” You whine, moving the puppy that was on your lap and getting out. Holding the t-shirt away from your body, a big, circular spot in the middle of it. 
Ghost chuckles when he sees you, noticing a familiar tag on it. “Wait, is that…”
“Soap's t-shirt?” You ask, looking at what he's pointing. “Yeah, it is.” 
That turns Ghost's chuckle into a whole belly laugh as he stands, finished all the work, picking it up. “Let's go to the room, I'll lend you one of mine.” 
“You got a room in here?” You ask walking after him.
“Yeah, nothing major. Price managed to get us a room for each of us, Gaz and Soap share theirs cause they are clingy but Price and I got our own. Rank privileges.” He says winking at you, slightly blushing for some reason at such a silly gesture. 
The room is close by, and when you enter Ghost sits on his bed dropping the papers on his desk. You take off the shirt, careful not to touch it with your face in the process. In his bathroom, you wash the part of your abdomen that you feel moist, grimacing at the knowledge it is pee and walk back into the room. Not bothering to put on a shirt and sitting on Ghost's lap, your legs going around his hips.
He looks at you, hugging you back and a look of mischievousness in his eyes. 
“So you told Johnny that you loved him.” Ghost suddenly says, blood blushing to your face making you hide it on his neck as you groan.
“He couldn't stay quiet, could he?” You ask, making the man chuckle as his hand moves up and down your back.
“Nah, you would have threatened him with stopping to love him or something for him to be quiet.” He jokes, his other hand resting on your thigh. “But why do you want him not to say anything, love? Embarrassed of him?”
“No. Of me.” You admit, mumbling against his skin while you hug his torso. 
“Explain.” He simply says, pulling words out of you; feeling a certain wave of proudness that you found a safe space to talk in him, even if hiding your face. 
“I feel silly… too exposed… I don't like it…” you say, burying your face even more if possible trying to hide. 
“It is overwhelming, right? He asks, resting his head on top of yours. “And confusing… it is already confusing coming to terms with the feeling of one person, let alone four of them, right?”
You simply nod against his neck, like a stubborn kid getting called out. 
“And you feel the pressure to automatically love the four of them. There is that one person that you feel like the relationship is a bit more forward or is just different from the rest, maybe you met them before or clicked easier with them. But now, it is not fair to the rest so you start to force yourself to love them too, and it is not that you don't, is that you are not letting the relationship evolve naturally and you are pressuring it, and it doesn't feel right. And then, that turns into feeling that they are gonna notice it, and they are going to hate you and you are going to lose them all, but now you want them and instead of feeling love you feel scared and you don't want to admit it.” He says calmly, each word as if he was reading your mind. You look up to him, brows furrowed and glossy eyes. “Right?”
“How do you…” you half ask, looking into his eyes that crinkle when he smiles. 
“Well, birdie.” He says with a soft chuckle. “We didn't wake up one day and decided we were all married together and everything was perfect. It took us years to finally set everything in.”
“Years?” You ask surprised by the time.
Simon hums as an answer. “We met you a month ago. So you already doing a better job than all of us.” He chuckles. “I'm pretty sure I was the one who did the shittiest job with it, to be honest… I kept thinking Soap didn't like me back, that he was afraid to tell me off and that was why he wanted more with Gaz and Price. Funniest thing is that we were not really dating because I was already unsure about him liking me more than physically.”
“And how did you do it?” You ask.
“Well, the thing that I struggled the most was with how jealous was of the way Soap would look at them. Once I got my head out of my own ass I realised he look at me just like that as well…” He says cupping your face. “And I'm pretty sure he is starting to look at you just like that too. And he is not the only one.”
You look up into his eyes, you have never seen them like they look at the moment. Clear with emotions, no walls in between, just pouring into you the reassurance you so badly need. It brings tears to your eyes, not sad, simply feeling like the door holding all the anxiousness and self-doubt has just been opened and those feelings are being flushed out. 
“Can I kiss you?” You ask with a sob, your hand reaching to the bottom of his mask not daring to actually touch it until he tells you it's okay. He nods, helping you take it off; and before you can kiss him he cups your face stopping you.
“You are alright, birdie?” He asks, concern obvious in his voice. You quickly nod, not wanting to use words and Ghost takes pity on you, probably for seeing himself on you, because he doesn't push you and leans forward crashing his lips against yours. 
His hands move down to your hips, pulling you tightly against him; his tongue finds its way inside dancing along with yours. You grab his shoulders, his wide hands engulfing your ribs pulling you close.
Your hips grind against his crotch making him groan into your mouth, his cock coming to life against your ass. One of his hands moves lower, to where your spine ends and pushes you helping you move against him.
“Aww, poor birdie needs me to fuck all my love into her tight sweet cunt?” He coos into your neck, making you whine out of embarrassment. “Show her how much we want her, our treasured birdie. So luckily that we found you, you know that?”
Ghost moves to kiss your cheeks, drinking your tears as he does. His hand find its way inside of your pants, sliding down until he reaches your entrance groaning when he feels the wetness.
“So wet already, birdie?” He snickers looking at your face as you close your eyes, biting your lips as you keep moving your hips trying to get his finger inside of you. He indulges you, inserting two fingers inside your weeping cunt making you arch your back as a soft moan escapes your lips. 
It is fast, the way he easily takes off your clothes; barely making you stand to take off your clothes before he has you straddling his lap. He's still clothed when you pull him down, making him lay on his back with you still on his lap. 
“I want to ride you, Simon Riley.” 
And who in the hell is he to deny your wishes? He doesn't even stop to think how you learnt his name, Johnny most likely. But you standing over him, hair framing your face, light from outside illuminating you from behind looking like a fucking angel. And it takes him a minute, to remember that he has free will to roam your body with his hands. 
He helps you undo his pants, only taking them down to his mid-thigh before pulling his dick out of his briefs. Simon knows you are not as stretched as you should be, but when he sees you spit down on his tip rubbing your small hand up and down, he too can't wait any longer. 
He helps you, lowering you on his dick as it stretches you to the brim. He sees the look of pure ecstasy on your face; eyes dropping close, brown furrow and lip between your teeth keeping you from moaning out loud. 
He is no better than you, his fingertips dig into the fat of your hips with a bruising strength, his eyes locked into the way your lips spread to allow his dick deep into you. He groans when he feels your hip flush against his, smiling when he sees you grind forward to find friction against your clit; your legs slightly buckling when his trimmed pubes give you that needed touch. 
He moves his hand forward, brushing the soft fuzz of your abdomen as he presses his hand on it placing his hand right where he knows his tip is at. Pressing down at it and moving his thumb slowly down your body, making you feel him inside of you; almost able to tell every vein of his shaft. 
It must also do something for him with the way he groans, using his other hand to move your hips back and forward savouring every millimetre of friction that it gives him. You press your hands on his chest, bending your knees under you getting in position to move up and down. 
He sighs, a feeling of victory in his heart as he moves both his arms to cross them under his head; as if he was simply sunbathing on the beach and not having sex. 
You chuckle when you see him, a refreshing of sight of seeing him smile satisfied with himself and with no mask on the way. 
“Enjoying the view, Riley?” You tease, still not moving and letting yourself rest for a second. 
“Very.” He simply answers, you the white of his teeth peeks as he gives you a tiny smile. “Was it Johnny that told you?”
“Obviously.” You chuckle back, Simon's eyebrow twitching when you do and your cunt clenches around him. “He actually said your name right before eating my ass… I’m still figuring out how to feel about it.”
Your comment makes him chuckle, moving inside of you forcing an intake of air in you. “Nah, that’s just cause you have a bloody nice arse, birdie. Must have reminded him of mine.”
You shake your head. “I’ll have to check it myself then.” You say, raising your chin. 
“Aw, for fucks sake. I already have to hide my arse from Johnny, not from you too.” He laughs, covering his eyes with his arm. 
“Aww, Simon, you getting shy.” You tease him, softly pulling his arm.
“Ha, I’ll show you shy.” He says with a chuckle, he grabs your calves one on each hand pulling you up. It forces you to plant your hands on each side of his head when he pulls your lower body up. It leaves you holding yourself up, with only your hands on the bed, legs spread open and his dick resting on your entrance having forced out with the change in position. 
You look down, seeing the clear string of arousal linking the two of you together, and you watch as he slowly lowers your hips; his tip catching at your entrance and he suddenly thrusts his hips up filling you up easily. 
It forces the air out of your lungs, leaving you with your mouth open right over his face and if you had your eyes open you would be able to see that he looks just as fucked out as you. Eyes closed in bliss, mouth open and head slightly tilted back. 
He moves you up and down, using you like a human fleshlight, the humble show of his sheer strength only fueling your arousal. This man has the strength to break you in two, and instead is using all his power to make you feel good.
It is an angle at which he reaches so deep, every time he lowers your or his hips rises it is skin on skin; there is not an inch of his dick that is not inside of you. Your arousal drips down, making plat plat plat sounds every time your clit kisses his body. 
It has your mind empty, focusing on keeping yourself up but every thrust threatens to make you fall face-first on his. Your arms start to shake after a bit, it is hard to stay up when you are getting fuck within an inch of your life. 
You lower yourself, choosing to rest on your forearms; getting closer to his face but still keeping yourself off of him. “Getting tired, birdie?” He asks between grunts. “Better cum soon them, love.”
He changes the angle again, and somehow the new angle makes it easier for him to reach that point inside of you that has your eyes rolling back into your skull; moaning his name loudly as you feel your climax approach suddenly. 
“Yeah, just like that, birdie.” He says, satisfied with himself that he was able to have you coming undone so quickly. “C’mon, birdie, give to me, love.”
You whine, wanting to hold on a little bit longer; just a bit more.
But it is just a couple thrusts more than have you finally collapsing over him, barely dodging his face on your way down when you come; arms shaking when you feel him let go of you just to rub your clit in tight circles to make you climax last making you moan on his hear.
He lets you breathe when you slap his hand, chuckling to himself when you do and he lets you rest. With you resting on him, both your arms over his head and his face on your chest.  
It takes you a moment to catch your breath back, and when you do you look down to see his dick still red and angry. “You didn't finish…”
“I know, I had another plan.” He says. “Are you alright, love?” He asks, and when you nod he smiles. Standing up keeping you on his arms, your legs around his hips. “Let’s go visit Price.”
“What?” You ask, dumbfounded when you see him start to walk towards the door. “Wait, no, we are naked, people will see.”
“No, they won’t. And I’m dressed.” He argues, and he is right. His only skin showing being his dick and his face. Funny enough.
You hug him, hiding your face on his neck and accepting your fate. He walks outside, he knows perfectly fine that only he and Price are on this side of the base but you don't need to know that. He reaches Price's office in less than a minute which for you feels like an eternity and he knocks on the door, going in when Price says “C’mon in” from the inside.
“Night, Captain.” He says as if it is the most normal interaction. 
“Well, hello Simon.” The captain answers, chuckling when he sees you still hiding. “Hi, birdie.”
You still feel yourself burn with embarrassment, mumbling a tiny Hi as an answer; only pulling your face out when Simons sits you on Price's desk. “Lay down.” Simon tells you.
You look behind you, seeing as Price moves everything so you can lay back; choosing to prop yourself on your elbows to remain able to look at them. 
“Give me a kiss?” Price asks, still sitting on his chair and you give him a soft peck on the lips making the man smile, his moustache moving as he does. “Are you having fun?”
“I am.” You answer and you turn to Ghost. “But he isn’t”
Ghost scoffs at you, slapping your thigh at the same time. “And who says I’m not having fun.”
“He didn't finish.” You tell Price, looking up at him, feeling like a kid snitching on somebody. 
“And whose fault is that?” Ghost answers, teasing you. 
It makes you gasp, feeling offended by his words and you sidekick him his ribs not strong enough to actually hurt him. “Don't say those things to me, I feel bad later!” You admit
“Now, now, settle down the both of you.” He says chuckling as he stands up, slowly walking to stand beside Ghost. “If you have so much energy why don't you fuck it out instead of fighting.”
Ghost groans between your legs, and it's then that you notice that Price is fisting his cock, moving his rough hand slowly up and down Ghost's length aligning it with your entrance. He pushes Ghost forward, filling you up once more and making you moan softly. 
“Lay down.” Price tells you this time, and you oblige letting your back rest against the table. Ghost’s hands move to the underside of your thighs, keeping them up closer to your chest. His hips move slowly in and out of you, and you notice one of his hands slip from your leg. 
Wet sounds catch your attention and when you look up you see Price kissing Ghost, his hand on the back of Ghost's head and Ghost’s hand wrapped around Price’s shaft. He moves his hand at the same pace as the one set by his hips fucking you, you barely hear them moan into each other mouth. The slightest twitch of their eyebrow when they touch a weak spot.
You notice Price’s hand on Ghost’s waist under his shirt, rubbing circles with his thumb and slightly pushing him forward to meet your hips. The one that is behind his head closes around his hair, pulling his head slightly back and Price moves to kiss the man’s throat, a moan leaving Ghost’s mouth as he looks up. 
You see Price drag his tongue flat against Ghost’s neck, moving up to behind his ear biting at his lobe and it is then that he catches you staring; a smirk appearing on his face. “I think birdie is a little perver that likes to watch…” He snitches, a tone of voice that lets you know you are in trouble. 
“I think she just wants more attention… Can’t have enough, do you, birdie?” Ghost asks, grunting as he keeps thrusting in and out. 
“Not true...” You mumble, half whining. You follow Price as he moves away from Ghost, his hand finding its way back to your leg. Price stands behind you, pressing his hand on your chest to make you lie down coming face to face with his dick right in front of your face. 
“Maybe if you have a cock down your throat you will stop lying.” He says, fisting his dick and probing your lips. You open your mouth slowly, expecting him to ease his way inside little by little. Instead, the moment your mouth is opened enough he thrusts forward, making you gag.
“Fuck!” You heard Ghost groan. “Do it again, captain. She clenched down so hard when you did.”
Price chuckles, pulling back and bending down to look at your face. He grabs your hand, moving it so his fingers are on your palm. “If it gets too much, grab it twice, alright, love?” He instructs and you nod, opening your mouth back again eagerly.
He doesn't waste time, filling your mouth back at the same time Ghost does, making you arch your back at the double stimulation. Something about the unusual harder way that the both of them are fucking you tonight truly ignites something inside of you. Ever since your weekend with Soap, something in the dynamics of the five seems to have changed.
Before, they would always touch you with such care as if scared you would break or that they would scare you off if they pressed a bit too hard. Always putting you in front of them, making sure you were enjoying it most time not even caring about themselves.
Not that they are not caring about it today, but there is a certain edge about it that shows that they are enjoying it doing it harder not for the extra friction but for the feeling that they are allowed to do it to you and you are basking on the attention received. 
Price and Ghost thrust in and out so hard that for a second you fear they may meet in the middle, their hands roam your body, pressing, scratching, slightly slapping just to make you jump at the sting. 
Price leans forward to kiss Ghost again, the change in angle making his shaft hit deeper in your throat making you grab his finger in reflex; once, not twice. And once he is sure of it, he keeps fucking your skull without much of a care.
It is not much longer after that you feel your second climax on the night approach, not that you could do much about it. The change in Price's attitude, from worshipping you on your first night to the lack of care of tonight truly opens your eyes to the wide range of possibilities with the man.
And the way Ghost has been filling you up, cunt stretched to accommodate the wide size of his shaft on every thrust has you wailing around Price when his thumb rubs your clit in tight circles. You combust on a loud moan around Price, Ghost holding your hips hard as he picks up the pace trying to reach his as well, grunting loudly and pulling out last second to paint your abdomen white with his spend, groaning at the sigh. 
It is Price the last to come, letting go of your hand to wrap both of his around your throat to fuck it harder. It makes you panic for a second, the lack of his hand translating to a lack of communication to let him know if it is too much. It only lasts until Ghost’s hand takes Price’s place, keeping you grounded as he moves to your side kissing your hand. 
Price's hands wrap harder than expected, making it almost impossible to breathe and having to lean on holding your breath for as long as Price needs hoping to have the lungs capacity. He finally does, right as you start to think about tapping out, he comes deep down your throat, coughing when he finally lets go of your neck. 
He pulls back, letting you breathe, marvelling at the sight of his pretty bird looking so filthy with his and his Lieutenant come on her body. He sits back down on his chair, picking you up to sit you down on his lap; using the tissues on his desk to wash as good as he can the come and spit drying up on your face as you are still coughing up a bit. 
Post-nut clarity hits Price hard when he sees the imprints on his hands on your neck, they are just red for the lack of oxygen; he knows perfectly fine there will be no marks in the morning. But right now you are coughing up a lung and his hands are around your neck. 
He cuddles you, kissing your head as he bathes you in apologies. “I’m sorry, birdie. I was too rough, sorry, love.”
You shake your head, making him look down at your face, heart warming up when he sees a little mischievous smile on your mouth. “I liked it.” You say, voice hoarse and scratched. 
Ghost chuckles behind you, crouching down to let a glass of water on your hands. “You were right, Captain. She is a little perver.” He jokes, dropping a kiss on your forehead. 
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Hi my lovelies!! 💗💗
Only two more chapters to go to finish this series, and I dont know how to feel about it.
I only need to write the finale, and revise the next one, AAAAA so nervous.
Once I'm done with that I'll do a lot of blogkeeping so it is a lot more tidy because it is A MESS right now, and I want it to be easier to find everything I have written before adding more to the chaos.
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gojipink · 1 day
Text
privilege
ஐ ft. diluc
ஐ summary. giving diluc a blowjob so good, he revokes your bj card :(
ஐ warnings. N*SFW, mdni, fem!reader, deep throating, fem. pet names. 1.4k words
ஐ notes. part of my bj mini series! check out more parts here ✧˖°.
“waitwaitwaitwait,” diluc catching your arm, stopping your trail of kisses down his stomach as you peer up at him through your eyelashes. 
he swallows thickly, mind reeling from your ministrations, a little embarrassed at how he’s found himself to be on the receiving end of your love. undressed to only his boxer briefs, laying flat on his back as you slide down his body, worshiping every inch of skin in your path downwards.
“what’s wrong, ‘luc?” you ask as you plant an innocent kiss at the start of his v-line. 
to be honest, you knew exactly what you were doing. diluc has been so busy, so stressed out recently that you wanted to take a night to focus on him. to let him receive even half as much love and pleasure that you receive from him on an almost nightly basis. you knew exactly what you were doing when you straddled him on the bed, giving his lips a searing kiss as you slowly pushed him back to lay his head down on the plush pillows. making him so distracted by your onslaught of hot, wet kisses down his jaw and neck that he wouldn't notice what you were trying to accomplish. 
“my love,” he calls out breathlessly, “what are you doing all the way down there? come lay down, i should be the one taking care of you, don't you think, darling?” 
you breath out a laugh as you nip at his hip bone making him draw in a sharp breath as his hardening dick flinches in its confines. 
“i want to be down here, diluc. actually i'm not even exactly where i wanna be yet,” you tease.
“love-” he tries to argue before you interrupt him,
“please, ‘luc,” you pout up at him, “lemme take care of you this time. wanna make you feel good, i’ve missed the way you feel in my mouth,” you plead. 
diluc has only let you suck him off a small handful of times throughout your entire relationship. it's not that he doesn't like it, quite the opposite actually. it’s just when it comes to sex, he gets off on getting you off. your pleasure is genuinely his pleasure, he’s almost sure he could cum at the sight of you coming undone alone. but when you look up at him almost pleadingly with your lips so so close to his straining cock, he lets his resolve melt a little and lets you take whatever you want from him. 
he sighs, his big hand coming up to cup your face, thumb caressing the apple of your cheeks. “if…if that’s what you really want then… but go slow, love. don't hurt yourself, okay?” 
you inwardly melt at his concern as you flash him a smile, “thank you, ‘luc. i’ll be careful, i promise.” 
he huffs out a sigh while his hands brush your hair out of your face, “yeah, that’s what you said last time before you choked on it.”
you giggle at his words before playfully nipping at his skin right above the waistband of his underwear. “and who came almost immediately feeling my throat tighten on his cock?” you tease. 
“darli-mmph-” he tries to argue before you cut him off with a warm wet lick along the heavy shaft of his cock through the fabric of his underwear. 
his breathing instantly becomes heavier as you press teasing opened mouth kisses to his twitching length while your fingers hook over the waistband to slowly drag the last article of clothing off his hips. 
diluc raises himself on an elbow to watch you through hazy vision as he uses his other hand to help you pull the fabric off. 
as you discard them onto the floor by the bed, diluc’s wraps a hand around his throbbing cock squeezing at the base a little, giving himself a couple of short pumps. 
“my love, you don't have to do this,” he tries to convince you one last time as you make yourself comfortable between his thighs, “come lay down, hm? let me make you feel good, bet she’s just aching for it, isn't she, angel?”
you pout at him knowing that he’s trying to rile you up on purpose, hoping that if he gets you needy enough you’ll let him take over. you would be lying to yourself if you said his plan wasn’t effective, not with the way his filthy words strike straight to your cunt making your little hole clench around nothing.
“it’ll be my turn later, wanna taste you first,” you insist, your hands dragging up his thighs, nails lightly raking over the cords of thick muscle. 
diluc’s jaw tightens when your smaller hands replace his on his swollen cock. using both of hands to twist around the entirety of his length, making him draw in a sharp inhale. 
his piercing gaze follows your every movement as you open your mouth slightly, letting a pool of saliva fall past your lips and drop onto his flushed tip. diluc’s lip part in a silent moan as he watches the filthy sight, mind filling with fog as your hands drag across his length smearing your saliva over him. 
his resolve to switch positions finally dying down as he gently tangles his fingers in your hair, subconsciously pushing down the slightest bit trying to encourage your soft lips to meet his drooling cock. 
your lips finally meet his aching tip as you press a sweet kiss to his oozing slit before you take his length into the warmth of your mouth. 
diluc hisses at the feeling of your tongue repeatedly circling around his tip then massaging at the pulsing thick vein on the underside of his cock. 
“mmmh, love, s-slow, go slow,” he pants while his fingers tighten themselves in your hair, trying to grasp for control over the situation he’s found himself in. “doing so good, darling, mmph-! d-dont go any deeper, just-ngh keep it...keep it there.” 
you hum while bobbing your head up and down, the vibrations going right to his tightening balls as he tilts his head up to the ceiling a guttural groan ripping through the room. all senses filled with him, you desperately want to disobey his orders and just want to feel him further. want to feel his tip poke at the back of your throat as you swallow around him, want to know what he sounds like when his hips involuntarily stutter, thrusting his dick down further. 
knowing he’s slowly losing himself in bliss, you test the waters by slowly inching your mouth lower and lower until you feel his coarse red hair tickling your nose. you close your eyes and take a breath before surging forward practically devouring him whole.
the constricting feeling of your throat wrapping around his sensitive tip forces his hips to jerk in surprise, his mind short circuiting at the addicting sensation.
“ah-! l-love, oooh f-fuck! wait-!” he chokes out, his hands fisting tightly in your hair desperately trying to keep your head still, torn between wanting to push you down just a little bit further or pull you off him to scold you for deliberately ignoring his warnings to be careful. 
thick, milky ropes of his cum hit the back of your tongue as he pulls his leaking tip away to keep you from bullying his twitchy cock further into your throat. 
you swallow every spurt of cum, not letting a single drop leak through the corners of your lips. soothingly licking his shaft, softly bringing him down from his high, his chest harshly rising and falling, his eyebrows knitted together as he gazes at you with glossed over eyes. 
you lick one last stripe up his length, making his dick twitch in overstimulation, before sitting on your knees in between his legs, hands massaging his flexed thighs. 
he huffs out a breath as he gives you a pointed look, “alright, your privileges have been permanently revoked.” 
your mouth falls open in shock, “what! you liked it, though!” 
he shakes his head as he reaches to grab your elbows to drag you off of your knees. he rolls the both of you over, you now laying underneath him, face caged in by his strong arms. 
he tenderly lays a soft kiss on your lips, cock stirring when he vaguely tastes himself on you. he pulls back just slightly to chastise you, “i distinctly remember telling you to be care-” 
“and i distinctly remember you, once again, cumming as soon as your cock hit my thro-mmph!” you try to interrupt him only for him to cut you off by capturing your lips in a heavy, greedy kiss.
“what am i going to do with you,” he sighs into your mouth as you giggle and wrap your legs around his waist. 
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