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mypoisonedvine · 6 months

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𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 | ghostface!darren (pig) x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | he probably wasn't even invited to this party, because who would invite him? but he came anyways... just to torment you. far more than you could've imagined, in fact.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 2.5k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | NONCON DARK SMUT 18+ ONLY!!, public sex, degradation, pain kink, knife kink, a bit of predator/prey, blood kink, smoking, unprotected sex/implied risk of pregnancy, darren is kind of an incel lmao

It was a pretty traditional high school party— overcrowded, loud and sweaty, bad music and worse liquor— but at least the sea of costumes, ranging from scary to silly to sexy, added at least some new layer of interest to the whole thing.

You hadn’t tried very hard with your devil costume— more accurately an attempt at a ‘sexy devil’ costume— but you put on horns and heels with a tight red dress and nobody can really complain. You weren’t really here to get into the ‘spooky spirit’ or whatever anyways, just an excuse to drink and maybe chat with some people you’d been missing.

The person you ended up chatting to right in that moment, though, was exactly the last person you wanted to talk to.

You didn’t even know there was someone behind you until you felt him press up to your back, suddenly hovering right by you. “Want a drink?” he asked, shoving a cup towards you, but you were too busy nearly jumping out of your skin to care— you almost knocked the drink over, actually some of it did splash onto another partygoer, but she was too drunk to notice.

“Fuck!” you yelped, turning to see the gangly boy behind you. “Christ, Darren, do you have to always sneak up on a girl like that?”

He just smiled and tried to offer the drink to you again.

“M’already holding one,” you pointed out with a frown, “didn’t ya notice?”

“O-oh yeah,” he mumbled, lowering the cup finally. “Costume looks good.”

“Thanks,” you shrugged, though you suddenly felt the urge to tug down the bottom of your dress.

“You’re not worried what the boys are gonna think with you dressed like that?” he asked, and you glared at him as you shoved his shoulder.

“Don’t you think before you open your fuckin’ mouth?” you spat. “What are you, anyway?”

The black robes didn’t really tell you anything— not until he reached behind his head and pulled a Ghostface mask over his face.

“Oh,” you snorted, “not the most original, is it?”

“Don’t like t’movie?” he wondered as he pulled the mask back again.

“I mean, it’s pretty good,” you relented, “but—”

“You wanna fuck ‘im, don’t you?” he insisted suddenly with a lascivious grin.

“What?” you squinted.

“Ghostface,” he clarified, “you’re one of the girls who thinks he’s fit, yeah?”

“Why are you always such a creep?” you asked him with a grimace, but then you decided to change the topic quickly. “Kinda thought you’d be a pig or something,” you admitted, “with the nickname and all.”

“Nah, that’s stupid,” he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms— which made you notice the prop knife in his hand. It actually looked pretty good, shinier than most plastic costume knives.

Just then, Jimmy O’Doyle sauntered up beside you, slipping his arm around your shoulders. “Ay, little devil,” he greeted, flicking the red horns on your head as you smiled sheepishly.

He hardly acknowledged Darren, spare for a quick nod, but Darren was staring at Jimmy for a little too long before he looked at you again.

“Thought you said you didn’t want a boyfriend,” Darren said sharply, glowering a bit.

Jimmy scoffed and you shifted uncomfortably; Darren tended to be… what’s the word… desperate? Clingy? Overall bizarre? He certainly couldn’t take much of a hint.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said first, though that didn’t really matter— you didn’t need any reason to reject Darren, outside of your natural self-preservation instinct. He actually wasn’t bad-looking, but it was hard to tell past those leering eyes and the uncomfortable smile. He wasn’t smiling now though… he looked quietly enraged, sipping pointedly on his drink as he glanced away for a moment.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Jimmy smirked at you, hardly waiting for your nod before disappearing back into the crowd.

Suddenly, as you felt Darren’s livid gaze from awkwardly close, you decided that you needed a little fresh air. And by that, you really meant a cigarette.

Not wanting to tell Darren that you were going outside for a smoke, you instead mumbled some excuse about going to the loo— somewhere he was just sane enough not to follow you to— and bumped through the crowd until you found a door out into the neighbourhood.

There was a slight drizzle still going outside— more of a misting, really— that made everything all foggy and grey, spare for the yellow-y glow of the streetlamps dotting the way. It wasn’t a full moon, as cool as that would be, but near to one… regardless, it wasn’t visible behind low, dark clouds, leaving the night starless and dreary. There wasn’t much to look at in the alley as you lit your cigarette and took slow drags from it, so as you stared blankly forward at brick walls with chipping whitewash, your mind wandered a bit. Nothing of great merit: upcoming assignments, the possibility of an afterparty, the lingering hope you could find a steamy hook-up for the night… you didn’t just put this outfit on for the pictures.

Before you could get too far into your imagination, you were startled by a distant sound, jumping slight as your head turned towards it— but it was just the dark alley, not much to see. You squinted, trying to make out movement in the shadows, but for quite a while you couldn’t see anything.

Only when you turned your head back forward with a shrug was there any sign of what you’d heard, just a shift in the corner of your eye. You looked at it again, and you hated to admit it, but your heart froze up for a second when that white face emerged from the darkness.

Of course, you gave your best unaffected scoff when you actually processed what you were looking at.

“Quit it, Darren,” you warned, willing your voice to sound stable as you shouted down the road towards him, “you’re not gonna scare me.”

You watched him move closer, stepping into the light so you could see him better, and tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck stood up. If he knew he was getting to you, he’d just keep doing it; you rolled your eyes and took a drag through your cigarette to try to seem nonchalant… but you had to stop your hand from shaking just a bit. Only because it was chilly out, surely…

You thought it was a joke— a stupid joke, but still just a joke— until he dragged his knife along the brick wall as he stalked toward you. The sharp, high-pitched screech of metal against stone was unmistakable… and that was how you realised it was a real knife. A very sharp, very real knife; he’s going to actually kill me, you thought, just before you let out a primal and instinctive scream.

Turning on your heel, you ran as fast as you could. Each rapid pulse of your heart pumped adrenaline through your veins, and you felt so shaky that you worried the light night breeze would knock you over.

These were far from running shoes, though— they were pretty excruciating to just stand in, actually— and it was only a few blocks of a chase before you tripped. Yelping in pain, you tried to scramble up or even crawl forward… but just as you rolled over and winced from landing on your hip, you saw him stalking forward into the flickering light of a streetlamp.

He was probably just going to take the mask off and laugh at you, right? Reveal the whole thing was a silly prank and the knife was fake and that he just wanted to prove you were scared of him. Yes, that would be the most sane thing for him to do at that moment, even after being so not-sane by chasing you with a knife. Instead, as you tried to crawl back, he just tilted his masked head curiously at you, and with his free hand reached down and palmed at his groin. He was hard— you could see the outline of it through his costume, his hips rocking forward slightly into his palm as you heard a muffled hiss from his mouth.

He knelt down and grabbed your kicking legs, roughly yanking you closer and hovering above you menacingly. “C’mon and scream for me,” he ordered with a delighted purr, pulling his mask back, laughing when what came out of you was more of a wail or sob instead. “Louder, y’little whore—”

“Get off me!” you shrieked, trying to fight him away, whining as he laid down over you instead and licked your neck. You turned your head with a grimace, shuddering as his weight pinned you against the slightly-damp pavement.

“G’na show Pig how tight the little hole gets when you’re scared— aren’t ya, fuckin’ slut?”

“Be serious, Darren— s’not funny, get away from me!”

You struggled less when he flashed the knife; as little as you could, in fact you actually nearly froze as he teased you with it, running the tip down the front of your dress with just enough pressure to pop a few sequins off, making you whimper in terror. He laughed, though— a small, dark, chuckle. “Quiet now,” he noticed. “Don’t make a fuss, sweetheart.”

You had to bite your lip to hide a shout, though, when a gloved hand up slipped under your short dress, grabbing greedily at your lacy panties. He licked his teeth, bared by his grin, as he stared at you with those haunting eyes of his. “Wet, aren’tcha, girl?” he taunted— not that he’d be able to feel it through his black gloves, but past your own groaning you could almost hear it (though you tried not to).

“You’re such a creep!” you spat, though you tried to regulate your tone as you glanced at his knife again, held against you by one of his hands on your arm; maybe part of you still thought he would stop and admit it was a joke, but the darkness in his stare made you doubt that more and more. The gravity of the situation still hadn’t really set in yet— sure, you were coursing with fear and had goosebumps all over, but it didn’t totally feel real.

“Won’t take too long,” he promised with a sigh as he hastily tugged his costume out of the way, still pinning you down with one hand (if not as effectively). When he roughly yanked his cock out, proudly brandishing it between your legs as your eyes went wide… that’s when it felt real.

“Don’t,” you gasped instantly, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Don’t, Darren, please— you can’t—”

“Shh,” he hissed quickly, “s’good— gonna feel good, alright?”

He gasped loudly as he pushed inside you, eyes shutting tight before he dropped his head down onto your chest. “Fuck, girl— what’s a whore cunt so tight for?”

Not wasting any time, he pulled his hips back and roughly thrusted forward into you again, making you choke on your cry.

“S’for me, isn’t it?” he decided with a sick sort of grin. “Want Pig to feel good? Like t’squeeze the thick cock, don’t ya?”

“I— I fuckin’ hate you,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes tight, in disgusted disbelief that this was happening— that it was him inside you, holding you down. But you couldn’t forget it, not with him moaning and purring above you, mumbling stuttered praises… and the feeling of it, it was impossible to ignore, as much as you hoped to somehow. It was a deep stretch, each thrust making your chest tighten out of more than just fear.

“Mmf, fuck,” he grunted, holding onto you tighter— another reminder he still had that fucking knife. “Pretty— it’s a pretty thing… it’s warm inside…”

Grimacing, you hated the way your body responded to his lewd comments about it; your walls clenched on him slightly, you could tell by the way you felt even more sore inside than before.

He pressed the knife up against your neck, growling in amusement at your wince of fear. “Think Pig’s gonna slice you?”

“I… I don’t know,” you stammered out your answer, eventually.

“Waste of a pretty face, no?” he smirked, moving the knife up and caressing the side of your face with it— not that it could really be called a caress, all rigid and cold like that… “Say please.”

“Huh?”

“Say please,” he repeated, “beg me not to hurt you.”

“Already are,” you sneered at him, but he pressed the knife to your neck with a little more intention— a little more pressure, a wild look in his eyes suddenly— as he insisted again.

“Wanna hear you beg,” he spat. “Do it or Piggy might hurt you worse.”

“Please, please,” you whispered shakily, shutting your eyes. “Please don’t, Darren…”

You gasped sharply as he pressed the knife down just enough to draw a thin line of blood, only to pull the blade away and lick hungrily at the wound. Feeling dizzy and sick, you winced at the sting of his tongue lapping at your pierced skin, lips wrapping around and suckling as teeth dug painfully into your pulse.

He thrusted faster, recklessly so, and bit down on his lip as he breathed heavier. You were too focused on how painfully deep he was going to really process anything when he started to slow down— that is, you felt that he was slowing down, and didn’t think for a minute about why he was slowing down.

His loud, low groan gave it away; you snapped back to reality and looked up at him in a new kind of fear. “Fuck, Darren, did you just—?!” you whimpered, squirming harder as you realised what he’d done.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed you sharply, hissing as he grabbed a tight hold of your hip. “Stay fuckin’ still, girl— fuck, I’m still coming—”

You yelped and tried harder to fight him off, but he kept you pinned down easily, even forcing you into a rough and sloppy kiss.

He sighed into it after a second, relaxing on top of you until it was a little hard to breathe under his weight. You whined and tried to break away, but the hand with the knife still in it held your jaw, the cold metal pressing threateningly against your face.

Whimpering and blinking up at him, you met his icy gaze and he smiled proudly down at you. “Little devil, eh?” he smirked as he toyed with your horned headband, which had become quite dishevelled from all the running and struggling. “Your blood matches the outfit— poor whore, red all over…”

“Darren,” you choked, fighting a sob of disbelief as you felt him pull out of you with a hiss— a steady, sticky leak giving away how much he’d come. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Don’t be fussin’, girl, like I said,” he rolled his eyes, though he was still grinning wide. “Ready to go back to the party now? Or do you just want Pig to take y’home, sweetheart?”

#darren pig x reader #disco pigs #cillian murphy x reader #darren pig smut #darren pig dark!fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy dark!fic

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strangersmunsons · 3 months

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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 4 Prompt: Baking 🍰 ~ 1,700 words you bake some cupcakes for your handsome older neighbor, Eddie. (implied age gap, intentionally vague)

You wipe sweat off your brow with the back of your hand, leaving a smear of frosting on your forehead.

This process has taken up more of your day than you expected it to, but you’ll spend as much time as necessary to get this right, because it’s for Eddie Munson.

Your handsome older neighbor has been occupying an alarming amount of space in your mind lately. It’s a recent development; you’d been moved into the new house for quite some time before you actually met him. He seemed to keep odd hours, and you only ran into him by chance one day, when you were both walking to the corner store up the road.

At first glance he was intimidating, with his long hair and all his leather, but he chatted with you easily during the whole impromptu excursion. Once inside the market he quickly bought his pack of cigarettes and then insisted on staying with you, so he could escort you back home, too.

He dragged on a Lucky Strike as he strolled down the sidewalk, his pretty face silhouetted against the setting sun in the distance, and you couldn’t look away. He left you at your door with a cheeky grin and a “Good to finally meet you. ‘Night, little lady.”

If those words had come out of anyone else’s mouth, you’re not sure what your reaction would have been. But spoken by Eddie? Your knees had gone weak.

Since then he seemed to be popping up more and more frequently. Every time you happened to glance out the window he was there. Sprawled out in a wicker chair on his porch, a paperback held flat against his knee; peering under the hood of his car, tinkering away on the engine; he even stopped by a few times when the weather got cold, offering to shovel the snow from your driveway and scrape the ice off your windshield, each time armed with a charming smile and a twinkle in his eye.

The self-indulgent part of you wants to believe it’s because he likes you, and so he’s making an effort for you to see him; the more rational part of you knows you’re seeing him now because you want to see him.

Regardless, you were thinking that you wanted to do something nice for him. Some neighborly gesture that’ll give him some indication of your interest, without requiring you to be too forward. You just hope that he’ll pick up on what you’re putting down.

The kitchen table is a mess of baking utensils and splatters of cake batter, but you’re pleased with the results. Six red velvet cupcakes iced — and filled — with cream cheese frosting and pink sprinkles are all neatly arranged on a platter, just waiting to be carried over to Eddie’s house. The heart-patterned liners feel appropriate but also a tad cheesy, maybe even overkill; but if he seems weirded out by the whole thing, you’ll just tell him they’re leftover from a batch you planned on taking to work.

You lose the apron and wash your hands in the sink, then skip to the bathroom to give yourself a final once over. You clean the frosting off your face, and fix your hair nervously with your fingers. Quit stalling.

You slip a coat on, and keep your hands as steady as possible as you carry the platter cautiously outside. Small, quick steps lead you to Eddie’s doorstep, and you balance the edge of the tray against your hip so you can rap your knuckles on the door.

The seconds tick by, and the door finally swings open. Eddie’s in black sweats and an Iron Maiden t-shirt, hair looking wild and disheveled; his eyes look puffy with sleep, but they light up when he realizes who he’s looking at.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, voice husky from his afternoon nap. “What can I do for ya?”

“Hi,” you respond, soft and breathy with nerves. Your mouth opens to continue and then snaps shut again, a realization of horror creeping upon you: the lines you’ve been practicing in your head all day have evaporated into nothing. Poof! They’re gone, and now you’re standing here like an idiot.

Eddie stares at you curiously. You thrust the tray forward clumsily, any illusion of poise shattered. “These are for you!”

He looks startled. “Those are for me?” he repeats, like maybe he misheard you.

You nod.

Now he’s the one at a loss for words. “Thank you,” he says automatically, gazing down at the dessert-laden plate clutched between your hands. He shakes his head as though trying to clear it, and steps back inside the house, gesturing for you to enter. “Here, come inside. You’re not gonna have me eat these all by myself now, are you?”

You suck in a quick breath and scurry over the threshold, entering Eddie’s home for the first time. It’s a little messy but surprisingly cozy, with a squashy-looking furniture set and knick knacks on every flat surface. Music posters hang in black frames along the walls, showcasing a lot of long-haired men who, quite frankly, all look sort of the same to you, although they’re apparently all different bands.

“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the couch, “and I’ll get us some napkins.” You gingerly perch yourself on the soft leather cushion, while he disappears further back into the house, presumably into the kitchen. When he returns he plops down in the seat next to you, taking the platter and setting it down on the coffee table with a pile of napkins. Then he stifles a yawn as he slumps back into the couch.

You feel bad. “Were you asleep? I’m so sorry if I woke you up.”

He waves you off. “Don’t worry, my alarm went off a few minutes ago. If I don’t set one when I nap, I’ll sleep the whole day away. These old bones are tired, you know,” he jokes.

You shake your head in disagreement. “You’re not old.”

He pokes your shoulder. “I’m old next to you.”

You try to laugh but there’s a pang in your heart. Is he trying to tell me something? You wring your hands, and don’t reply.

Eddie peers at you with a gentle smile on his lips, his dark eyes crinkled at the corners. “Did you make these yourself?”

“I did indeed.”

“They look amazing.” He picks one up and takes a large bite, the frosting smearing clean up his nose. You giggle through a bite of your own dessert.

“What?” he says thickly, giving you a deadpan stare. “Something on my face?”

Hesitantly, you reach out with your napkin, wiping the sugary cream from his nose and upper lip. He scrunches his face but pushes into your hand, letting you clean him up. A thrill shoots through you at being able to touch him, even if it’s through a paper barrier.

“Thanks, sweetheart. These are incredible, by the way. Thank you for bringing them.”

“Of course.”

He clears his throat, and sets his cupcake down on the table so he can give you his full attention. “If you don’t mind me asking, um…why did you bring them?”

You’re answer evasively, still unsure of how he sees you. “Because I thought you’d like them.”

He gives you that penetrating stare again, and it’s like you’re being swallowed up in those dark irises. You feel as though he must see right through you, all your intentions laid bare.

“Thank you for thinking of me. You’re real sweet for that.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Do you do this for all your neighbors?”

“No. But my other neighbors don’t walk me home from the corner store and shovel my sidewalk.”

He purses his lips, as though he’s deep in thought, although still half-teasing you. “I see. So these cupcakes are purely transactional?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. He’s not really giving anything away, and this game is too hard for you to keep playing. “Well, no. I also…just wanted to do something nice for you. To make you happy.”

His face is impassive. “Rest assured, you’ve certainly done that.” He leans in closer to you, hand rubbing his chin pensively. “But you know what would make me even happier?”

You hold your breath. “What’s that?”

“If you stayed for dinner.”

Your heart leaps with joy. “You mean it?”

“Yes.” His warm expression suddenly flickers with worry. “But only if you really want to.”

“I really want to, Eddie.”

There’s a brief silence, and the energy in the room shifts. Eddie lets his hand wander over to your knee, gazing at you with heavy-lidded eyes. “I like it when you say my name,” he whispers, staring unabashedly at your lips.

Feeling both validated and bold, you close the distance separating the two of you. “I’ll just bet,” you whisper, letting your smiling lips ghost over his with every word.

Strong, tattooed hands hold both sides of your face as Eddie finally seals his mouth to yours in a kiss. It starts out firm but gentle, and you sigh; his tongue slips in between your parted lips, sugary-sweet, and you press your body closer to his. He moves to embrace you tightly, winding one arm around your waist, and cupping the back of your head with his other hand, his kisses becoming deeper and more frantic.

He suddenly breaks away, gasping.

“Everything okay?” you ask dazedly, not finished with him.

He laughs. “Everything’s perfect,” he reassures you. “I’ve been hoping this would happen. But I want you to know, regardless of what happens in the next few minutes, I really do want to cook for you.”

You melt, fingers playing with the curls at the back of his neck. “You’re a really nice guy, you know that?”

He brushes your kiss-swollen bottom lip with a calloused thumb. “I’m glad you think so.”

His tone confuses you. “Others don’t?”

“I have a certain look.”

“I like how you look.”

He presses another quick kiss to your lips. “You’re a sweet girl,” he says quietly, echoing his statement from earlier.

You fall back into him, and although it’s several hours later, Eddie makes good on his promise. Over dinner, he poses the question again, “You know what would make me even happier?”

You bite, fingers intertwined with his. “What would make you even happier?”

“If you just stayed.”

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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teapartyprincess4two · 1 month

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begging you to write matt with reader who's also a youtuber/influencer. I want them to be best friends and reader is naive and way too kind for her own good. my idea is that there's another influencer who has a bad reputation and everyone hates on him because supposedly he's a big red flag. but one day y/n met him at a party and he put on an act so y/n now believes that he's not as bad as everyone makes him out to be. they become friends and that's when matt questions her about it and keep warning her about the type of guy he is because matt's worried about her but she won't listen because she's still giving the guy the benefit of the doubt and then they argue about this stuff idk you can change it up I just want this fic to have lotssss of angst but with a happy ending. if you could maybe even squeeze in an angry confession like "WHY DO YOU CARE" iykwim🤭

Why Do You Care?- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Influencer!reader x BestFriend!Matt

classification: angst, fluff

warning: use of y/n, toxic relationship, argument, slight cursing, mentions of blood, physical fight, “slut,” mention of alcohol use, long

inspiration: request^^

summary: You’re naive and let yourself be led on by someone you believe has good intentions, but one day Matt puts him in his place and ends up confessing his feelings to you in the process.

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Most celebrities quickly become out of touch with reality, allowing the fame to inflate their ego beyond recognition. They splurge on fancy cars, big houses, designer clothing, and then flaunt all of it in the face of their viewers. They become friends with whoever’s currently trending only to chew them up and spit them right out, draining them for as much clout as possible before moving on to the next.

When you first started YouTube you were scared to become one of these celebrities; the celebrities that trade in everything old and meaningful for whatever’s new and shiny. You worked hard to create quality content for your viewers while also trying to remain as humble as possible. If it weren’t for your friends, you probably would’ve fallen victim to the materialism as well.

You had a large friend group consisting of influencers you met after the fame, but a small inner circle made up of your true, irreplaceable friends. Matt and his brothers were a part of this inner circle, all of you riding the wave into fame together. So, when everyone else was gloating over their newfound fame, the four of you remained humble and down to Earth.

Erik, the guy you were seeing, was the complete opposite though. You met him at an influencer event, much like all of your current friends, and he held a certain charm that drew you in immediately. Everyone warned you, claiming he was bad news and would only break your heart, but you didn’t listen. You were naive, giving him the benefit of the doubt and letting his sweet words convince you that he wasn’t what everyone said he was.

You’re currently sitting with Nick and Chris in their living room talking anything and everything boys. Usually Chris would just sit and listen, but the conversation has meandered into the topic of Erik, and he struggles to contain his opinion. An old film plays lowly in the background, a bowl of popcorn situated between piles of blankets and pillows.

“He’s not that bad. I promise!” you exclaim towards Nick and Chris, but it sounds more like you’re trying to convince yourself. You’re scrolling through your phone, buttery fingers trying to find proof that Erik wasn’t all that bad. Nick rolls his eyes, peering over your shoulder as you shuffle through endless photos on your phone.

Chris scoots in closer, copying Nick in invading your personal space before saying, “I don’t know, Y/n. I’ve seen him at a couple parties and he’s always either arriving with a different girl or leaving with one, or both.” You pop a few pieces of popcorn in your mouth, finally finding the screenshot you were looking for.

“Shush Chris, just look at this,” you reply with a mouthful of popcorn, a greasy finger zooming into the screenshot of messages between you and Erik. Before Chris can grab ahold of the phone, Nick is snatching it from you and reading the messages out loud.

“Hey baby, you looked so cute in that black dress. Can’t wait to see it off,” Nick reads, visibly shuddering at the message. “THAT’S the message you wanted to show me?” Chris scoffs, stealing the phone from Nick to examine the messages for himself.

“Just keep reading,” you murmur, now peering over Chris’s shoulder and shoving more popcorn into your mouth. Chris rolls his eyes at you, proceeding to read the messages from Erik, “You’re better than any girl I’ve ever had.” Nick laughs loudly at that, a laugh that exemplifies how unimpressed he is.

“He basically told you he’s fucked other bitches but you’re the best,” Chris deadpans, tossing your phone onto your lap. He’s had enough with the messages, all of them making him cringe beyond belief. Nick once again grabs the phone, examining the messages one more time, “He’s fucking doing the bare minimum, Y/n. Actually, he’s setting the bar so low it’s on the floor.”

Chris laughs at the comment, getting comfortable on the living room floor and averting his gaze to the TV. “Whatever Nick, he’s nice and I really like him,” you retort, no hint of true bitterness in your voice.

The room goes silent for a while, Nick’s focus being on deciphering any hidden meanings within the messages. You lean back into the blankets and pillows that surround you, joining Chris in finally watching the movie. Finally, when Nick has read the messages 10 times over, he replies, “Yeah you really like fucking him apparently.”

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers, your hands swiftly snatching the phone away from him, “I haven’t fucked him! What the fuck!” Nick laughs, knowing the comment trigged you, “Well from what I read, it sounds like you did.”

Before you can stop yourself, you’re grabbing one of the many pillows you’re laying on and lightly hit Nick with it. The pillow ricochets off his chest, the feeling being more annoying than painful. “Don’t start, bitch. I’ll fucking win every time,” he laughs, grabbing a pillow of his own and bouncing it off your head. Soon you’re both caught in a pillow fight, your giggles and laughter filling the living room and drowning the movie out.

Chris groans in annoyance when a stray pillow bonks him in the head, scooting away from you two and turning the volume up. Matt enters the living room fresh out of the shower tussling a white towel on his wet hair. He watches in amusement as you and Nick toss and turn on the living room floor, turning to Chris briefly and asking, “What’s going on with these two?”

Chris groans again, getting up and rounding the corner to head downstairs to his room, “I don’t know, something about Y/n fucking Erik.” Matt watches as Chris disappears into his room, the statement settling in his mind when the door clicks. You hear Chris’s comment, attempting to hit him by throwing a pillow his way, but missing because he descends the stairs before it can reach him.

“You’re fucking Erik?” Matt asks, attempting to sound nonchalant and casual. But there was nothing nonchalant or casual about his question, especially not when directed towards the girl he’s loved from the moment he met her. You and Nick halt your movements, both slightly out of breath and in shock by the straightforwardness of Matt’s question, he was never the type to be so blunt.

“No, that was a lie made up by Nick. See, Nick, that’s how rumors start,” you reply, directing the last part to Nick who holds his hands up in defense. Matt feels himself relax at your confession, the anxiety that was forming subsiding, “Oh okay, yeah. Good, cause I don’t like that guy.” He’s still trying to play the unbothered card, and he wonders if you can tell that it actually did bother him. You roll your eyes, watching as Matt slings the towel over his shoulder from behind the couch.

“Yeah, alright, because who I fuck is dependent on who you do and don’t like? Right?” you reply, a challenging tone in your voice. For some reason it hurt more coming from Matt than from Nick or Chris, maybe because you’ve been pining over Matt since childhood and he’s never realized it. You’ve seen him go through girlfriend after girlfriend without complaint, but the second you’re interested in anyone it’s a problem? “And that’s my queue to leave,” Nick mumbles, getting up and walking upstairs to his room in an attempt to leave the awkward moment.

Matt doesn’t get a chance to reply as you continue, “Whatever, I don’t know why I’m fighting with you.”

“We’re not fighting?”

“We literally are? You never like any of my boyfriends,” you reply, but even you know that you’re overreacting.

“Oh, so he’s been promoted to boyfriend?” Matt prods, a sassy hand resting on his hip. Truth be told, Matt has loved you for longer than you’ve loved him, but he’s always been too afraid to admit it to you. Both Nick and Chris know, but they’ve never exposed Matt’s true feelings for you because they know your relationship is complicated. They’ve watched you both try to fill the void with fling after fling, only to end up arguing about who’s dating who and ending up alone again. It was a never ending cycle between you and Matt, a cycle that would never break until one of you confessed.

“And so what if he has? What is to you, Matt? Not like you don’t have a new random girl in here every week,” you snap, surprised by the venom in your voice. Matt’s hurt by your comment, is that what you viewed him as? As a womanizer? But his hurt is quickly masked by anger, “Alright so now we ARE fighting, and it shouldn’t be any of your concern who I’m seeing.”

“Same goes for you, buddy! I don’t see why you care so much about my relationship with Erik,” you stand from your spot on the floor, feeling small compared to Matt’s towering figure. The condescending nickname is a slap to the face, quickly informing Matt that you aren’t here to play games or coddle his feelings. He wants to say so many things, all of them about his true feelings for you, but he bites his tongue. Plus, after being called ‘buddy’ he’s not sure you’ll even listen.

His jaw is clenched, one fist balled up and the other gripping onto the towel so tightly his knuckles turn white. Once the silence becomes too much, you continue, “Whatever, Matt. I’m going home, I’ll talk to you later. Tell Nick and Chris I said bye.”

“No, you don’t get to ‘whatever’ me. Let’s talk about this,” his tone is almost pleading, a gentle but firm hand keeping you in place. You won’t make eye contact, afraid that if you meet his gaze the tears will spill.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you sigh, suddenly feeling defeated and guilty for arguing with the one man you truly loved. Why was this so hard for you both?

Matt opens his mouth to say something, but quickly closes it like a fish in water when he realizes that what he wants to say will only further complicate the situation. He silently watches as you gather your things. You push past him, making your way to the front door without another word, but you’re internally wishing he’d pull you back in and fix this. He doesn’t though, so you swing the front door open and walk towards your car.

When the door slams closed, Matt realizes that if he doesn’t do something about it, he’ll lose you for good.

—

Loud music booms through the club, the vibrations of the bass shaking the walls with each beat. You never pass up on the opportunity to celebrate friends, so when Tara, an influencer friend of yours, invited you to her party you immediately said yes. The venue is filled with drunk people, all of them so inebriated that all they can do is dance, makeout, and continue drinking.

Matt, Nick, and Chris follow closely behind you as you push your way through the crowd of dancing people. They were completely out of their element, choosing to stick to you like gum to avoid any uncomfortable interactions. As you weave your way through the club, you spot Erik in the corner with a few of your other friends, and immediately without thinking you abandon all loyalty to your friends and start walking towards him.

“Hey, where are you going?” Matt asks, voice straining to be heard over the music. He’s holding onto your elbow, grip firm enough to keep you from moving. “I’m gonna get Erik, I want you guys to meet him,” you reply, managing to slip out of his grasp and continuing your journey through the dense population of drunk, sweaty people. Matt wants to grab you by the waist and pull you back, but you just forgave him after your last argument and he knows your relationship is too fragile for another argument right now.

“Where is she going?” Chris shouts, scanning the room anxiously. The club was loud and chaotic, filled with strobing lights and bumping bodies that were enough to overstimulate anyone. Matt’s eyes are trained on you, watching as you reach Erik and cling onto him like a necklace. Chris, upon not receiving a response from Matt, looks at his brother. Matt’s jaw is clenched, prominent veins visible on his arms as the anger begins coursing through his veins.

Chris follows Matt’s gaze, immediately clocking what has Matt so serious. Nick is standing close by, bopping his head to the music. “Fucking hate that guy,” Chris comments, slapping Matt’s back and pulling him into a quick side hug. He was attempting to console his brother, to show his solidarity, but Matt was too blinded to notice.

“Tell me about it,” Matt grits, watching as you excitedly lead Erik towards the trio. Your right hand is holding a drink high in the air as your left is behind you, fingers laced with Erik’s as you dance your way back to your friends.

“Guys! This is Erik!” you look so excited, like a little kid showing off their new toy. But Erik is unimpressed and honestly, he doesn’t give a fuck who your friends are. Matt, Nick, and Chris care even less about him, in fact they hate this guy from the rumors alone.

“Hey man, nice to meet you. I’m Chris,” Chris is the first to break the awkward tension. He extends a hand, dabbing Erik up briefly as to not seem rude. Nick follows, going in for a quick side hug, “Nice to finally meet you, I’m Nick. Y/n has told us so much about you.”

“All good things I hope,” Erik replies. There’s a fake tone laced in his voice that Matt catches instantly, causing him to roll his eyes. Matt waits for Erik to give him his full attention before introducing himself with a firm handshake, “I’m Matt.” He wasn’t going to put on a show, all he had to do was introduce himself, simple as that.

Matt’s hand holds onto Erik’s for a little too long, successfully managing to intimidate him before he pulls away. “Matt. Noted,” Erik says awkwardly, ready to ditch this situation and consume as much alcohol as possible to forget this ever happened. Erik rocks back and forth on his heels, surveying the room for an excuse to leave. He spots a girl he’s fucked before, eyes lighting up as he creates an excuse on the spot, “Hey baby, I’m going to go find some friends I want you to meet. I’ll be back in a bit.” Erik plants a kiss on your cheek before dismissing himself with a wave, “Nice meeting you guys, see you around.”

“Nice meeting you, see you around,” Matt mocks in a high pitched voice, rolling his eyes for what feels like the 100th time tonight. There were so many red flags about this guy, but he was being so nice, so fake, that Matt couldn’t even point them out. And hearing another man call you baby has Matt’s blood boiling, he just knows that Erik throws that nickname at anything with legs.

Chris and Nick return Erik’s wave, but Matt immediately pulls you in close and begins warning you about the type of guy Erik is. “He’s so weird, Y/n. Just be careful please,” he whispers into your ear, the loud music forcing him to be inches away from your face. As he says it, he catches Erik checking a girl out on the dance floor, the same girl that Erik dismissed himself to go talk to.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. I care about you and don’t want to see you upset over a guy, especially not a douche like him,” Matt continues, subconsciously letting his hands rest on your waist. It’s a feeling you welcome, wishing that it was more than just friendly.

“I’m not going to get hurt. I’m a big girl,” you reply, a drunk smile on your face. How you’ve managed to get so drunk already, he doesn’t know, but he knows that he feels a sense of responsibility for you. He’s about to tell you to stay close, your drunken state inhibiting you from properly taking care of yourself. “I’m gonna go find Tara,” and with that you’re lost in the crowd again, forcing Matt to loosen his grip on your waist as he watches you dance away.

He leans against the wall behind him, a tight jaw forming as he switches his attention from you and Erik. You’re having so much fun dancing with friends, completely oblivious to the fact that Erik is chatting up yet another girl, and Matt couldn’t do anything about it.

—

After about two hours, Matt has officially decided that he’s bored. He and his brothers are the only sober people, the three of them watching as everyone else makes drunk decisions they were sure to regret later. “I’m gonna go to the restroom,” Matt excuses himself, earning a head nod from both his brothers. In reality he just needed an excuse to stretch his legs and a reason to walk around the club to look for you.

Matt hasn’t seen you since went to look for Tara. And as he laps the club, he ends up running into Tara, her small dancing figure thanking him for celebrating such a big milestone with her. He asked her if she’d seen you, but she said it had been a while since she last saw you. That worried Matt, especially considering how drunk you were. So, as he heads towards the restroom, he studies every face in the room in search of yours.

When he finally reaches the restroom, he still hasn’t found you, but as he pushes the door open he’s met with Erik’s annoying voice, “No I don’t actually like her. I mean, yeah she’s cute, but why would I tie myself down? I just need her to boost my views.” Matt sees red as soon as he hears it, he knows Erik is talking about you, who else could he be talking about?

“So you’re using her for clout?” another voice chimes in.

“Something like that. Have you seen her numbers, dude? Her and those little triplets she hangs out with are all anyone’s talking about right now. I don’t get the hype, but you know I have to get in on that… Plus, if I play this game long enough, she might let me hit,” Erik replies, the gross comment he made about you earning him a round of laughter from his equally as disgusting friends.

Matt’s about to push the door open, slam Erik onto the floor, and beat the living shit out of him, but Erik continues before he can, “And the look on that Matt guy’s face when I finally do it will be priceless. He’s clearly in love with her.”

Matt’s heard enough, and before he knows it he’s fuming and barging into the restroom, you can practically see the steam coming off of him. It doesn’t take long for him to single Erik out, the adrenaline pumping through his body providing him with a sudden, unmatched strength. Matt grabs him by the color, using momentum and force to push him against the cold tile wall.

Matt is glad that no one is here to hold him back, but even if there was he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from doing what he’s about to do. “Ay bro, what the fu—” Erik’s sentence is cut off by a swift punch to his jaw, a punch so hard that it has him dazed. Erik falls onto the floor harshly as all of his fake friends scurry out of the restroom, commenting something along the lines of “this guy’s crazy.”

Matt was in a blinded rage, watching as Erik spits blood onto the floor, using one hand to hold himself up and the other to wipe the warm liquid that dribbles down his chin.

“You think a punch will stop me from fucking your bitch?” Erik asks with a malicious, bloody smile forming on his face. Matt doesn’t respond, his fists doing all the talking for him as he kneels to Erik’s level and pummels his face. Punch after punch is thrown, each one leaving Erik bloodier and more bruised than the last.

Erik’s friends must’ve told people in the club what was happening in the restroom because you, Nick, and Chris are suddenly barging in. Nick and Chris are horrified at the sight, but with Erik’s track record they’re not surprised, he certainly had it coming. “Matt! Matt!” Chris shouts, wrapping strong arms around his brother and attempting to pull him off Erik, who’s laughing maniacally like he got what he wanted.

Matt’s stiff as a board, so it takes both Chris and Nick to pry him off the bloody boy. Finally, when they pull him off, Erik stumbles to get up. His face is so bloody he’s almost unrecognizable. “Matt, what did you do?” you whisper in shock, a trembling hand coming up to your face at the sight. Matt’s chest heaves as he tries steadying his breathing, his dark eyes softening a little when he realizes how scared you are.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Nick whispers, the severity of the situation settling into the atmosphere. Nick ushers everyone out of the restroom, and Erik gets one last jab in, “Yeah! Leave you fucking loser! And take your slut with you too!”

Matt was never quick to anger, in fact he was docile and patient most of the time, but Erik’s comment lets you know that his outburst was building and was most certainly justified. If Chris wasn’t holding onto Matt, he would’ve turned around and finished the job, but he’s glad he doesn’t because he catches the pleading look you give him.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” Matt asks softly, pulling you into his side and planting a kiss on your head. You nod slowly, eyes trained on the bloody knuckles that wrap around your shoulders.

“Yeah.”

—

The ride home is quiet, slightly awkward, and extremely uncomfortable. The streetlights illuminate the streets, the blood on Matt’s busted knuckles glistening every time he grips the wheel and takes a turn. Chris played music in an attempt to break the tension, but even that doesn’t help.

Once you’re finally at their house, the initial shock wears off. Nick and Chris are quick to go to their rooms, the entire night having drained them both socially and emotionally. Matt makes his way to the restroom, allowing the warm water to run across his hands. He winces at the feeling, watching as a pool of red forms in the sink. You’re upset, even if you shouldn’t be, so you follow Matt in hopes of getting answers.

“So are you gonna tell me what happened tonight?” you prod, leaning against the door frame. He doesn’t look up from the sink, instead running gentle fingers across his hands to wash the blood off.

“Nothing to say,” he replies sternly with a nonchalant shrug. In reality he had everything to say.

“Oh so you didn’t beat Erik to a bloody pulp?”

“No, I definitely did,” a smirk tugs at his lips.

“Okay… Why?” Matt was avoiding the question like the plague, not only because what Erik said is something he never wanted to repeat, but because it came with uncharted territory.

“Just…” his voice trails off as he turns the sink off, grabbing a nearby towel and drying his hands. He winces again at the applied pressure.

“You don’t get to ‘just’ me, Matt. Why!?” you’re raising your voice at this point, stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you in the process. If Nick and Chris were asleep, you didn’t want to wake them.

“He was being a douche, okay?” Matt’s response is lame and he knows it. “I didn’t like what he was saying about you,” he continues without getting into detail, he was just trying to protect you and if that was such a crime he’d happily go to jail for it.

“I’m a big girl Matt. I told you I can take care of myself,” you scoff. Matt slumps onto the toilet seat, wishing he could just pull you onto his lap and hug the conversation away. “You always do this shit. You protect me like I’m a helpless little girl. We’re not eight anymore, Matt.”

“Sorry?” he replies, a sardonic tone evident in his voice.

“I DON’T NEED YOU TO FIGHT MY BATTLES, MATT!”

Matt sighs, he’s not in the mood for this right now.“He’s just a fucking dickhead, Y/n. He doesn’t deserve you. Plus, that bitchass pussy had it coming,” Matt replies, his voice remaining stern and steady. He didn’t want to raise his voice at you, but he knows it’s bound to happen with the way the conversation is progressing.

“WHY DO YOU CARE, THOUGH? WHY DOES IT MATTER SO MUCH TO YOU??” your hands are thrown up in exasperation, desperately trying to squeeze the answers out of him.

“Because you’re my friend.”

“No, Matt. Why?”

“BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU, OKAY? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR? THAT I’M MADLY IN LOVE WITH YOU? THAT I HAVE BEEN SINCE WE WERE KIDS AND I JUST—” he takes a deep breath, adjusting his volume and continuing in a defeated tone, “just forget I said anything, Y/n.”

The room is silent, so unbearably silent that Matt’s ears are ringing. His cheeks are flushed, almost as red as his knuckles. Your heart is pounding out of your chest. Small, quick breaths falling from your lips as you process everything he just said.

“You love me?” your voice is hushed, almost inaudible. When Matt looks up at you, he sees the twinkle in your eye as the tears brim your waterline. “Yes, I love you,” he affirms, it’s simple but true.

“Oh Matt,” you cup his face, suddenly it all made sense. All the times he chased away your boyfriends, complained about a fling, commented on a new friend, it all made sense with this new revelation.

“I get it if you don’t feel the same. You don’t have to pity me—” You cut Matt off with a passionate kiss, it’s the only thing you can think to do. He’s shocked at first, but he melts into the kiss once it registers.

His hands travel to the back of your thighs, legs spreading as he pulls you in closer to him. He moans into the kiss, unable to contain his excitement.

Matt’s tongue finds its way into your mouth, his grip on your thighs becoming stronger with each passing second almost like he’s afraid that if he lets go you’ll disappear. You only pull away to catch your breath, whispering four long awaited words into his lips, “I love you, Matt.”

Strong hands tug you back in for another passionate kiss, the pain in his knuckles suddenly vanishing as he relishes in this newfound feeling.

He’s never letting you go again.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: it’s been a while guys 😋💃🏻

thank you sweet anons for the requests, I combined them because they were very similar & I hope I did them justice!

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

327 notes · View notes

shhuuga · 9 months

Note

ik I just sent an ask but babe my mind is filthy.

christopher NOT BANG CHAN. I REPEAT: CHRISTOPHER NOT BANG CHAN (yes there is a difference) who loves when reader sucks on his balls. it’s his favorite part of getting head, watching his girlfriend with his balls draggin across her face, sucking on them while stroking his fat dick to the GODS. idk if this is doing tm… but imagine putting his balls in your pussy??? AM I DTM??? lemme know cause idek why that shit turns me on so damn bad. he’s just too sexy bruh

(woooo GIRL!!! have me sitting in my bed GIGGLING. BITING MY NAILS. BIIITCH YOUR SO DIRTAAAY!!! /POS)

don't stop (pop that cat)

warnings: cussin (do i even need to warn atp), head (male receiving), ft. 4am kiman bc it's my brand atp, cum play(?), cum eating, sweetheart reader cuz she just wants to make chris happy, blond chan in this bc WE NEED HIM BACK!!!

"oh that's- that's it, baby.. just keep sucking my fucking balls like that, princess." chris throws his head back as he groans— fuck, you get better every fucking time.

wherever it is, in the back of his car, in your bedroom or in the bathroom of some club.. you always remember his favorite part of head. it's really the only reason he asks you, so he can feel his heavy balls in your mouth, watching you switch between one and the other, or struggling to fit them both in.

"oh, baby..that's so fuckin'- shiiiiiit." chris' legs start shaking as your fingers curl tighter around his dick, the slick sounds of your spit and his pre sliding up and down his cock making your pussy clench.

"baby, wait.. lay back. let me- shit.. look at how wet you are." it never phases you because you know the reason, the only reason is him. but chris, he could cum just looking at your beautiful thighs all spread for him, with your slick dripping all over your lower body.

with a lil (pop!), chris slips his balls into you, the thickness of them making you whimper out. obviously, it's not enough for you to cum, but apparently it's just enough for chis to. well, that is after you tightened up around him because of his groans.

"'m sorry, im so sorry baby.. oh fuuck- your pussy 's just too- too perfect.. so fuckin warm.." the blond reaches down to circle his fingers on your clit as he pulls his balls out and slips his still hard dick into you.

(note to self, look into c+b torture videos)

980 notes · View notes

blueicequeen19 · 10 months

Text

Corruption

Warnings: virgin Pogue reader, loss of V, Rafe being manipulative, recording, anal

“Come on. You’re not scared are you?” I smirk against the phone, loving the way her breath hitches on the other end. We’ve played this game of cat and mouse all summer. Me and the sweet, innocent, desperate-for-attention Pogue I just can’t seem to shake. She’s not the prettiest girl on the island but she’s the most fascinating. How can someone so inexperienced be so infuriating and addictive?

“I’m not scared.” She snaps, allowing me to picture her scowl from here.

“Then come outside.”

There’s a pause then I can hear shuffling. The front door of her little shack - house, whatever - opens and she pads down the stairs in her adorable sleep attire with slippers on her feet. She’s glaring at me as she approaches and hangs up the phone as she climbs into my Range Rover.

“Well, you do have some balls. I’ll give you that.” I chuckle, taking a second to drink in the fear that radiates off her. She’s terrified but not one to back down from a challenge. And I plan to challenge her a lot tonight.

“You act like I should be afraid of you.”

“You should be.”

“The same way you’re afraid of my friends?”

That makes me pause, the fury inside me starting to raise to the surface but I push it down.

“I’m not afraid of a bunch of thieves.”

She laughs. Full belly laughs. I like the sound even if she’s laughing at me.

“That’s rich coming from you.” She bites out, making my hand lash out before I can stop myself and snatch her up by her sweet, thin throat. Her eyes bug out for a moment before settling back to their usual scowl. Her nose scrunched like she smells something bad which is impossible because I wear Dior.

“You don’t want to piss me off.” I warn, my voice low. Her scowl doesn’t disappear but she swallows against my palm before pulling back. I let her. She plasters herself against the door as I pull away from her POS excuse of a house and take the gravel road back to the main road.

“Where are we going?” She snaps, crossing her arms and not taking her eyes off me. One of her legs is bent in the seat and I can see the edge of her pink panties out of my peripheral. My cock jerks and I take a deep breath, counting to ten before releasing it.

“For a drive.”

“Obviously. To where, Rafe?” Her sass makes my palm twitch. I’ve never wanted to spank someone before but I’m half tempted to pull over and throw her over my knee and turn that ass red.

“That mouth is going to get you in trouble.” I retort, turning off onto another dirt road and stopping on the edge of the sandy beach about fifteen minutes later. She’s eyeing me, her paranoia settling in.

“I’m not fucking you.” She finally says, after a long moment of peaceful silence. I raise a brow, turning my gaze to her instead of the ocean.

“Okay? I’m not fucking you either.” Her brows shoot up, shock written all over her pretty face.

“Then why am I here, Rafe?” She demands. I don’t hide my amused smirk. I loved getting her riled up.

“You thought I brought you here to fuck?” She doesn’t respond, only glares.

“Honey, if I wanted to fuck you, I would’ve climbed through your bedroom window, put a pillow over your head and fucked you into the mattress while you slept. I wouldn’t have wasted anytime luring you outside and driving all the way out here.” I say. Her eyes widen in fear for a moment before her lip rolls in disgust but her pupils are blown, her nipples are hard, and she’s squeezed her thighs together.

“Trust me, I don’t want to fuck you.” I add, just to confuse her even more because it’s a fucking lie on my end. She turns away, looking out the window as her face softens with confusion. Hurt? A bruised ego? She’s probably thinking how no one wants to fuck the virgin. I do want to fuck her but I want her to beg me to. I could take it but I know she’d give in. She likes to fight me as much as I like for her to.

We sit in silence for a long time while I take hit after hit of my weed pen. She refuses to look at me while she’s all I can focus on. I become irritated by the fact she keeps looking at her phone instead of popping off at me with her smart mouth. I should have all her attention.

Before she can react, I snatch her phone from her fingers and she gasps, lunging for me a moment later. I don’t hold her back as she practically dives onto my lap as I shove my hands behind my back, keeping her phone just out of reach.

“Give it back, jackass.” She growls, pressing her delicious body against me without even realizing it. Her nails rake my arms but I don’t even care.

“Who are you texting?” I ask, sliding her phone in my back pocket while my free hand finds the door handle.

“None of your—.” I throw the door open and dump her on the sand. She ducks in time for me to slam the door back and lock it. I hear her frustrated scream as she jumps to her feet but I’ve already taken her phone out and started reading the texts between her and fucking JJ Maybank.

Her: Would you fuck me if I asked?

JJ: uhhhhhhh.. maybe? Yes. Definitely. Is this you asking?

Her: maybe. I’m just tired of everyone using my virginity as an excuse not to fuck me.

JJ: who doesn’t want to fuck you? Are you talking to someone?

Her: no.

JJ: so this is you asking me to deflower you?

Her: I think so. Where are you right now?

I see red for a moment before I turn to face her. She’s glaring - always glaring - at me from the other side of the window. I shove the door open and she stumbles back, her hair whipping around her face from the wind.

“Give it back.” She snarls, lunging for the phone in my hand. I take the opportunity to wrap my hand around her throat and pocket the phone. I pull her with me as she claws at my hands and wrists while I open the passenger door.

“You want to be fucked so bad? I’ll fuck you. I’ll deflower you then you’ll be free to fuck whoever you want.” She sucks in a breath as she tries to plant her feet but she slides in the sand. I push her down so she bent over the seat and I yank her shorts down in one go. I nearly bust right there seeing the large wet spot on her pink panties.

“Stop. I don’t want you to fuck me.” She bites out, trying to straighten but I shove her back down with a hand to her back.

“Liar. Look how wet you are. I know you’re a virgin but all this pussy juice means you’re turned on.” I cup her from behind and she jerks, a whimper leaving her lips.

“Shut up.” Her voice has lost its bite. She’s breathless now, her thighs trembling.

“No, you shut up. If you want to be corrupted so bad, I’ll corrupt you.” My fingers dive past her panties and into her tight pussy. She cries out, her body dropping down on the seat. I finger her slowly, trying to be gentle but she takes it with ease, pushing back against my hand.

“Greedy little slut.” I tut, keeping back just enough to not tear her hymen. She’s whimpering and moaning, her wetness running down her thighs and coating my hand. It’s enough for my restraint to slip and make me tear my shorts open. I bring my fingers to my mouth, sucking her sweetness off as I line my dick up with my other hand.

“Don’t stop. Please.” She cries, looking back at me over her shoulder. I’ll give in to her this one time. I’ll steal her virginity so no one else can then I won’t give her the time of day. I’ll make her beg for my attention. It’s going to take more than one time to corrupt her but I want her to beg for it. Crave it. I want her helpless for only what I can give her.

I press the tip inside and my eyes nearly cross, my balls drawing up inside me from how hot and tight she is. I grab the door frame to steady myself as I pull back a little and push back in. I swallow the lump in my throat and the overwhelming urge to cum as I pull back out. Then push in again. She’s coating me in her cream already.

“Fucking hell. This is the tightest pussy I’ve ever been in.” I growl, which makes her clench around me. I pull out almost completely and spit on my hand then coat it down my length before pressing back in. We both moan low and long as I push in deeper and deeper. There’s resistance and she tenses.

“Say goodbye to your precious flower.”

I pull out my phone and aim it down as I hit record. I want to relive this moment for the rest of my life. I slam inside and she screams. I don’t give her a moment to adjust, I just keep going. I fuck her hard and fast, her moans echoing loud through the vehicle and making my ears ring. I force one of her legs to bend and place it on the seat, one leg still on the ground as I keep fucking her. I’m even deeper now.

“Cum on my cock. I want to feel you.”

I slide my hand between her thighs and stroke her clit, feeling the moment she cums, screaming my name and gushing all over my cock. I groan, throwing my head back as I finish inside her a moment later. I pull back enough that I can capture my cum trickling back out of her along with a smear of blood then pocket my phone.

God, I hope she’s on something.

“That was—.” She winces when I withdraw and tuck myself away. I run my hand over the indent of my finger nails on her hips and she shudders, goosebumps forming on her skin. I love and hate how responsive she is.

This was supposed to be a game but all I can think about now is burying myself inside her over and over again. I want to see her face when she cums. I want to feel her smart mouth suck my cock. I want to see her tits bounce as she rides me. Now I’m practically pussy whipped.

Then her texts to that fucking Pogue flash through my mind and I’m pissed off all over again. I want all of her first. All. Of. Them. No one else deserves a claim to them. They’re mine.

I spit between her cheeks and she gasps, attempting to sit up and peer over her shoulder at me but I push her back down as I thrust two fingers in her pussy and my thumb to her ass.

“Wait— Rafe— that’s—.” She cuts off on a moan, her pussy pulsing around my fingers as I ease my thumb in her ass. A whimper of pain escapes her so I spit on her ass again. Then again. Lubing her up to take more. She’s so slippery now that I’m able to add a third finger to her pussy and my pointer finger to her ass.

“Dirty fucking slut.” I chuckle darkly as she cums again with a high pitched squeal. I don’t stop fingering her cunt while I work my dick into her ass.

“Rafe, please— no more—.” Her begging is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. I’m sure she’s crying but this is what she wanted.

“This is what you wanted. You wanted to be fucked so you’re gonna get fucked.” I bite out, finally reaching halfway into her tight fucking ass. I’m not going to make it. I’m going to cum already.

I start to move slowly and I’m nearly blinded by the sensation. I thought her pussy was otherworldly. I’m barely five pumps in and she’s pushing back against me, begging for more.

“Harder, Rafe. Fuck.” She cries, her entire body trembling as she chases another climax. I growl, digging my fingers into her hips and slam in balls deep. Maybe this girl is built for me. No one else has ever begged like she has. Let alone begged me to fuck their ass harder.

“Cum with me or don’t at all.” I snarl, just before my eyes roll back and I slam in twice more, spilling inside her ass as she clenches and screams her own release. I have to catch myself on the door to keep from falling over as every last bit of cum and energy is drained out of me and she goes limp on the seat.

I pull out and she whimpers but makes no sign of moving anytime soon. I snap a picture of my cum leaking out of both her holes and set it as my Home Screen before tucking myself away and carefully pulling her panties and shorts up.

“You’re going to hurt tomorrow.” I murmur, pulling her up into my arms and her wraps herself loosely around my neck. Her breathing is so shallow I’m worried she’s fallen asleep as I take her over to the front passenger side and put her in the seat. I drop her phone on her lap and climb in the driver seat.

“Thank you.” She says under her breath as I start the drive back to her house.

“Don’t thank me yet,” I chuckle, “We’re just getting started.”

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #rafe x reader #rafe fic #rafe cameron #rafe x y/n #dark!rafe cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe obx #dark rafe cameron #rafe angst #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe x you #outerbanks rafe #outer banks fanfiction

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janeyseymour · 1 month

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Hey so I was wondering if you could do a fic about a Melissa X daughter reader where we start working at the school and nobody catches on that we are Melissa’s daughter and the keep putting the pieces together until they finally get it. Maybe something like where Janine and Jacob go to Melissa’s house for cooking lessons and we are just like there and that’s how they find out. Or alternative idea where we are Melissa’s daughter and we start dating someone from Abbott like Ava or Janine and how that would play out. Sorry that’s a lot. Thanks

Relatively Related

written in the midst of the week before spring break and hoping that it isn't absolute trash :)

WC: ~2.5k

Growing up with Melissa Schemmenti for a mother, you saw what it was like being a teacher. You grew up hearing the horror stories that came with being a teacher in a center city school in Philadelphia, and you knew the horrors of growing up in a different part of Philly and going to that neighborhood school. While she didn’t much mind what you did with your life, she had always thought you would be a good teacher. And when you decided to go to college for education at West Chester University, she knew Abbott would take you in a heartbeat. It didn’t even matter that you were her daughter and she was quite the accredited teacher- West Chester’s name had enough to secure you a job anywhere in Philly that you wanted. You had vehemently denied working at her home away from home for quite some time, and yet here you were, with a bit of nudging from your mother, interviewing to become the new third grade teacher at Abbott Elementary.

“C’mon, hun,” she had sighed over dinner a few weeks ago. “I think if you would give it a shot, you would like it… I know Abbott ain’t no suburban school, but it’s a hell of a lot better than some of the places you’ve applied.”

“I just don’t want people thinking I got the job because you’re my mom,” you tell her truthfully through a mouthful of ziti.

“Y/N, if you wanted the job, I could get it for you without an interview.”

“Isn’t that essentially what would happen if I applied and checked off that I have family within the district?”you challenge as you raise a brow.

She rolls her eyes. “You act like they actually look at resumes. Please, they’ll take pretty much anyone who has a pulse and a certification… how you think I got stuck with Darlene as a part of my team?”

“I guess.”

“And besides, you have your father’s last name… how are they gonna know you’re my daughter if you don’t have my last name?”

You have to admit, she’s right. So you send in your resume. And two days later, you receive an email saying that they’d like to see you for an interview.

Your interview is practically a joke, and you’re offered a job on the spot. That night, Melissa and her work wife Barbara take you out for dinner.

“To Abbott’s newest member of the team,” Barbara makes a toast to you. “May it take you far in life.”

That was three years ago, and since then a lot has changed. A new principal has come in, there’s been a massive turnover in teachers, and you find yourself as a first grade teacher now. The only thing that hasn’t changed? The only one who knows you’re true identity at the school besides you and your mother is that Melissa Schemmenti is your mother.

This year, a few new teachers start: Jacob Hill as the eighth grade social studies teacher, and Janine Teagues as the other second grade teacher.

And as much as your mother loves to rip on new coworkers of yours, you find yourself quite drawn to both of them. Sure, they’re a little nosey and love to hear all of the new gossip and find all of the deep secrets that are hidden in the walls of this old bomb shelter turned elementary school, but you like them. They haven’t found you out, not that you or Melissa really care, but it’s quite nice to have that little bubble around the two of you.

They’ve come close though. Like the time that it came about that you share a name with Melissa’s daughter- who at this point they’re starting to believe doesn’t exist with the lack of pictures or stories.

“I’m telling you, I have a daughter,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she taps away at her phone. “I’m texting her right now.”

That is true- she is indeed texting you. Sure, she’s just texting you to tell you that you need to pick up lentils on the way home, but she isn’t lying to them.

“Show us.”

The redhead rolls her eyes, but she shows the two of them your conversation. “See? I’m just telling her she needs to pick up lentils if she wants me to make dinner tonight.”

Jacob’s brow raises as he catches the name at the top of the screen. “That’s odd… your daughter shares the same name with Y/N!”

“Well that would make sense,” your mother sighs, and you know she’s about to just out the two of you.

“It’s not like my name’s uncommon,” you jump in quietly. “I mean… really. Y/N. Not the most unique name in the world.”

Barbara raises a brow in your direction, and you give her a pleading look. “She’s right,” is all your mother’s work wife says.

That seems to stop the conversation for now, but the adrenaline rushing through your bones doesn’t quit until you safely pull into your driveway that day- lentils in hand.

“I’m home, Ma,” you call as you open the front door. Her head pokes out from the kitchen. “And yes I got the lentils.”

“Good,” is all she says before heading back into the kitchen. You follow in her direction and set them next to her before picking up the glass of wine she’s already poured for you and sipping on it.

“Aye,” she clicks her tongue. “No hello? No ‘how was your day?’”

“I saw your forty minutes ago,” you snort.

“An’ a lot coulda happened in forty minutes,” she replies. When you raise your brow at her, she sighs. “Okay, so in that forty minutes I drove home, changed into my lounge clothes, and started dinner… but I was also thinkin’-”

“That’s dangerous,” you quip. At the look she gives you, you raise your hands in surrender. You might be a grown woman, but Melissa Schemmenti was still your mother.

“I was thinkin’… you reacted kinda weird when I went to say that you were my daughter.”

You shrug. “I just don’t see why it’s anyone’s business but ours.”

“There’s gotta be more to it than that, hun,” she says as she stirs in the lentils.

“Jus’ don’t want anyone thinkin’ I’m some sorta nepo baby,” you sigh. “I got this job on my own, an’ I don’t need shit from the Abbott crew.”

“They ain’t gonna give you shit, ‘specially once they know you’re mine, and I know a guy,” she laughs,

“Little do they know, half the time, I’m your guy,” you tease her.

“Well, if that’s what it is, that’s fine. I won’t say nothin’.”

“Thanks Ma,” you smile as you kiss her cheek. “I got some grading to do, so if you have anything that needs graded, just put it next to my stack.”

As time goes on, the group starts to catch on a bit more… like:

The fact that you’re just as good a cook as your mother. You’re always bringing in new things in your Tupperware containers- that just so happen to match Melissa’s… because they came from the same house. You quickly cover that one up with a roll of your eyes and a, “So we both shop at Marshalls, the containers ain’t that special.”

Or when you manage to get pink eye from one of your kids, and Janine notices that you have the same emerald eyes as your mother. “Green eyes aren’t as rare as you think, Janine,” you huff as you grab your lunch from the fridge before leaving for the day.

There’s the instance where you’re getting fiercely protective of your students as one of the teachers from Addington makes their way over to flaunt the fact that they have more resources down the street, and you fold your arms over your chest and square up with the woman in true Schemmenti fashion. That time, Gregory takes notice, but he’s new at this point, and you just roll your eyes as you storm away down to your mother’s room to rant.

But no one ever really finds out. Not until…

“Kid, I’m having some people over for dinner tonight,” your mother tells you. “You joining?”

“Nah, I have some grading and prepping to get done tonight if I can,” you say. “But can you save me a bowl?”

“For a price,” she smirks.

“Hand me your spelling tests I know you’ve been stalling on grading,” you chuckle. She just points to her bag, and you go and pull them out before heading up to your room. “Have fun with your friends tonight. Love you, Ma.”

“Love you too, you little shit,” she calls back lovingly.

You’ve spent hours grading papers, and now you’re pouring over your lesson plans for the next week. You realize that you should probably do a craft that has to do with the upcoming holidays, and you find a few cute ones online. You know that you and your mother have a plethora of crafting supplies in the basement- you just don’t know what of. So, you start to make your way down the steps when you hear two very familiar voices: Jacob’s and Janine’s.

Knowing though that if you don’t go and look in the basement now, you never will and will just end up buying all new supplies and adding to the ridiculous amount of pipe cleaners and glitter glue you have stashed away.

You make your way through the kitchen. The three of them seem to be deep in a cooking lesson while also snacking on a few of the things your mother had already whipped up and don’t have a clue you’re walking through.

“You need any crafting supplies while I head down and see what we have?” you casually ask your mother as you pass.

You stop to watch as your two coworkers’ heads whip around in a near comical unison, mouths dropped in shock.

“Y/N?”

“Hey,” you give a half-committed wave.

“What are you doing here?” Janine asks.

You furrow a brow and fold your arms over your chest. “I live here?”

“You live with Melissa?” Jacob gasps.

“Yeah? She’s my mom?”

“She’s your-“ Janine points a finger at you before turning around and looking at Melissa. “You’re her-”

“I told you guys I had a daughter, that she wasn’t fake,” your mom smirks. “You believe me now?”

“How did we never know?!” Jacob admonishes.

“Well, for starters: I don’t have the Schemmenti last name. Secondly, who’s business is it to know who my mother is?” you quip. “You know how private the Schemmenti family can be.”

They both look beyond shocked. “Well, why don’t you join us?”

“I really do have to go check for pipe cleaners and paper plates, and I know how to cook,” you laugh. “But I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”

You head down the steps, and you hear your mother call, “The big jawns!”

“That’s what I figured, Ma!”

“What the hell?” Jacob whips around to your mother, and you laugh because you know she’s about to get grilled on the fact that you were indeed her ‘secret’ daughter.

You find what you need before heading back up the steps and for your room. “Have a good night y’all!”

The next morning, you’re sitting in the lounge sipping your coffee and sulking over the fact that you forgot your lunch on the counter this morning. Luckily for you, your mother brings it with her when she sees that you left it on the counter. She slips it into the staff fridge before sending you a text that it’s there. She preps her coffee and settles in next to you to grade a few more papers before everyone else stars trickling in to watch the news.

“Uh, hello?” Jacob questions when he walks in and everyone else is here now too. “Are we not going to talk about this?”

“Talk about what?” you and your mother ask at the same time.

“You two!” He gestures wildly between the two of you. “That you guys are related!”

“You two are related?” Gregory asks with a brow lifted.

“Uh, yeah!” Janine tells him.

“How do you know?”

“She told us last night when she called Melissa ‘Ma’!”

“Why didn’t any of us know this?” Jacob continues on.

“Know what?” Ava asks as she comes waltzing into the lounge to grab a coffee.

“That Melissa is Y/N’s mother!”

“I knew,” Barb states with a smirk on her face.

“Oh, damn! I was starting to think Melissa being a milf was just a rumor. I am happy to find out that it is entirely the truth,” the principal grins. “Greg, grab me a tea bag so I can sip on this tea!”

“There isn’t any tea, Ava,” you roll your eyes. “Yes, Melissa is my mom, but it really ain’t that big a deal.”

“Oh, it definitely is! Why were you so secretive about it?! Hmm?” Jacob asks as he sits next to you.

You shimmy away from him just slightly with a huff. “Because nobody needs to know a Schemmenti’s business except a Schemmenti. And, I didn’t want nobody thinking I got this job because of who I’m related to.”

“Y/N, please. You’re good at what you do, hun! You could get this job without the Schemmenti name, and you did!” Your mother cuts in and jostles you slightly.

“I also didn’t want to hear you-“ you look to Ava. “-calling my mother a milf more than I already do.”

“She is! And now that I see the two of you next to each other, I definitely see where your future is heading too!”

“Ava!” You, your mother, and the rest of the group scold.

The principal just shrugs. “Jus’ sayin’ the truth. Bye, y’all.”

Once she’s gone, you’re bombarded with questions. What’s it like having Melissa for a mother? Is your father really as bad as your mother makes him out to be? What was it like growing up? If you saw the horrors of Abbott, why did you work here? What were you like as a child?

“Enough,” you finally groan. “This is why I didn’t want people knowin’. I may be Melissa’s daughter, but-”

“Isn’t it weird calling your mom by her first name?” Jacob cuts you off.

“I’ve been yelling her first name since I was fourteen and realized she didn’t always respond to Mom or Ma, but always Melissa,” you reveal. “Now: she may be my mom, but I’m still a damn good teacher who got this position on my own volition. And y’all better stop asking these questions, or I know a guy.”

“And I’m the guy,” you mother states proudly, a proud grin on her face.

“No you ain’t. Uncle Vin is my guy.”

“While we’re at it,” Melissa sighs. “Stop asking me to get weed from my guy and just ask Y/N instead. She’s my guy for that.”

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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shoyoist · 1 year

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Hi my name is virtue and i'm plagued (pos) by thoughts of how delightfully vocal hanma is in bed.

content: fem!reader. unprotected sεx, riding dⅰck<3 shuji is loud and talks so much. multiple rounds and οrgasms, overstim, use of the terms daddy and babydoll. manhandling. note: this took me so long i apologizey_y

— . ｡˚ ♡ hanma likes it best when you're just as vocal as he is.

“shuji—” your voice has nearly given out. your body is hot and sore and your skin glows with sweat under hanma's bedroom light. the slap-slap-slap! of skin against skin fills the room, along with your boyfriend's shameless moans and sighs of pleasure.

“say my name again, baby,” he groans, sliding his big hand down your waist to your ass, squeezing at the plush skin before giving it a sharp slap. “fuckin’ say it, and open your mouth—moan pretty for me, yeah?”

you're tired — hanma has been making you ride his cock for what feels like hours, and your legs are trembling, cunt and thighs messy with your slick and his cum, and your clit is begging for relief.

but he doesn't let you stop. “c'mon, dollface. fuck, you look so fuckin' good like this, mm?” he hisses through gritted teeth, hips jerking up to meet your body when your cunt flutters around him, making his dick throb. “tits so good when they bounce like ‘at. gotta— gotta fuckin' see em jump while i cum.”

god, he uses the most embarrassing fucking words sometimes— but you're so blissed out and dizzy on the feeling of his big, big cock inside you, that you can't give a damn.

“hhngh— shuji, ‘m tired.” you beg, grabbing hold of his arms and using them to hold yourself up, still being such a good girl as you fuck his cock, pussy drooling and pulsing hot and wet all around his girth. “please.”

“keep goin’, baby.” he moans so loud, throwing his head back and exposing the expanse of his throat for you, and you can see red lines from where you'd dug your fingers in and scratched him down the side of his neck— you want to lean in and kiss him there, but you think if you move forward too much right now, you might collapse.

hanma is nice enough to grab your hips and fuck up into you, lightening the effort. “heh,” he smiles, a drunken stretch to his lips — and his eyes lower to his cock, watching the way your cunt stretches out around him as he rolls his body up in slow, languid thrusts.

“was gonna put a— a ring on you for valentine's day, baby.” his laugh is breathy, partially a stuttered moan. he eyes the milky band of cum and slick that sits around the base of his cock, getting thicker every time you sink your pussy hilt-deep onto him— and his smile widens. “but it looks like you beat me to it. look at that.”

your face heats up in a furious blush, and hanma just chuckles at your expense as you shudder in his arms, feeling an orgasm coming but also feeling too exhausted to even tell him about it.

his dark, golden gaze scans you as you try to catch your breath, thinking you're so fucking pathetic and so pretty as you keep going, just incapable of saying no to him even when you're begging him to give you a break.

he knows you love getting fucked on his cock as much as he loves watching you get fucked on it. “talk t’ me, baby.” he coos, patting your cheek before wrapping sin around your throat and gently leading your lips to his.

your hips buckle then, and your ass smacks onto his thighs as you sit down on his dick and whine. “fuck—” he groans, choking on his words as he lets out a string of cusses under his breath. “little cunt did so good f’me, ah?”

“can’t— wanna cum, shuji.” your eyes flutter, rolling back into your head as you exhale and slump into his chest, upset as you feel the stimulation against your clit die down but you've worked enough for one night.

“kah— you tappin’ out on me?” he grins, squishing your cheeks in his big, big hand and giving your head a little shake. ”c’mon baby, give me a good time.”

“wanna cum,” you beg, tears dotting your lashline now. you wanna please him so bad, but you just cant. “shuji, shuji please. i … i did well already, mhm?”

you're so fucking cute. so damn good, so pretty and all his for the taking, he knows. you've pleased him plenty already, it's true. he's made you ride him and let him watch your tits bounce till he came three whole times into your pretty little pussy— and till you'd come undone, shaking and whimpering in his hands as you struggled to fuck his cock through your orgasm at least four times.

and hey, isn't valentine's day supposed to be an occasion where the man showers his woman in gifts, affection and love?

“alright, since you're askin’ so sweet.” he chuckles again, and when sin and punishment grip your waist again, they do it firmly and with force.

hanma lifts you off his cock easily, and you don't notice but it twitches, the vein that runs underneath throbbing heavily when you let out a sad little whine like you're sad it's not in you anymore— and he shushes you, pushing you down on your back across the sheets. “let daddy take care of you now, m’kay?” he giggles.

you blush again at the term that you always say is so embarrassing yet makes you so wet and obedient for him anyway — and as you nod, hanma climbs over you, trapping your body under his broad shoulders and between his long, lanky limbs. “just need you to say the words f’me, baby.” he says, taking hold of your legs under the knees and hooking them over his shoulders.

you feel your cunt open up, slick and fluttering in anticipation for him, and the sensation of the cool air washing over the sensitive flesh right before the blunt head of his cock presses over your hole — it has you keening.

he doesn't even have to instruct you. “please shuji, daddy—” you babble, needing him. “need you to fuck me ‘n help me cum. tired, so tired and i did well for you, didn't i daddy? need you to make me feel good now, please.”

and how could he ever say no?

“anyth—shit—anythin’ for my babydoll.” he hisses sharply, pushing his cock past your entrance and back into your warm, velvet cunt. his hands, the dark tattoos contrasting so prettily against his pale skin as he grips you tight, holding you in place as he thrusts in and slides himself into you in one go.

you cry out weakly, toes curling with the pleasure that rushes through you when he splits you open and his tip bumps your cervix— and he smiles down at you, golden eyes lidded and dopey. “yeah, ya like that? like how daddy can fuck his cock so deep into your little cunt?”

“mhm, mhm,” you nod, by now so blissed out that all you can do is moan and tell him mhm to every question he asks.

“baby's all fucked out already,” he tuts, giving you another thrust, the schlick! of his cock going in and out so loud it sends the most delicious shiver up his spine. he's going to fuck you so hard. “y’gonna match my energy, doll? gonna moan with me ‘n cry while you cum?”

“mhm,” you nod, mouth falling open as he thrusts harder, and your arms come up to wrap around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. “love you, shuji.”

god, he thinks, giggling into your mouth, biting into your swollen bottom lip. he's going to fuck you so damn hard, when you finally cum this one last time, it'll fucking knock you out.

notes: interactions, reblogs & feedback are much appreciated! come thirst with me in my asks<3 tagging: @katasstrophy here it is rivvy! hehe<3

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™.#₊˚ପ⊹ NYCHTA.#hanma smut #tokyo revengers smut #tr smut #hanma shuji smut #hanma x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tr x reader #hanma shuji x reader #hanma headcanons #tokyo revengers headcanons #hanma x you #hanma x y/n #tokyo revengers angst #tokyo revengers drabbles #hanma drabbles #hanma shuji x you

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splendidreads · 1 year

Text

‘Take The Trash Out’

Just a blurb about Bucky catching your POS ex boyfriend being abusive.

Warnings: Abuse, cursing, mentions of sexual interactions, possessive/protective/angry Bucky Barnes, two idiots who finally realize they love each other. Oh, and Steve.

Word count: 1167

My first little blurb. Idk if I like it, but oh whale.

“How did you even get in here?!”

John scoffed, rolling his eyes as he crossed the room to Y/N, “What, you think that just because you’ve got some supers in your corner, means that I can’t get to you?” He shook his head, going ‘tsk tsk tsk’.

“You need to leave before I call said ‘supers’ to my room. Tony won’t take kindly to someone like you breaking and entering.” Y/N crossed her arms on her chest, her words loud and strong, but then John’s hand came up and grasped her face. A bit too hard.

“Let go of me!”

“No. You will shut that mouth of yours, and come back home with me.” His words were sharp, and threatening.

“No!” Y/N smacked his arm away from her, her cheeks red from how hard he held her, “We broke up over a month ago John, I don’t want you in my life. Now get out!”

Before Y/N could even blink, a painful smacking sound echoed through the room. A loud gasp came from her lips, her hand rising to hold onto her now throbbing face. Her eyes were wide, staring at the man in front of her.

“Y/N?”

Her eyes darted to her open bedroom door, seeing both Bucky and Steve standing there.. Seeing the look on her face was enough evidence for both men to realize what had just happened. Bucky’s jaw clenched as he and Steve both walked into the room.

“You need to leave.” Bucky walked up behind John, and John’s eyes narrowed.

“It wasn’t exactly a request.” Steve said, crossing his arms on his chest.

John tried to stand up straight, puff his chest out.. But he still looked small compared to the two super soldiers in front of him. Bucky’s eyes went to Y/N, who was standing there completely shocked, holding her face.

“No. She’s coming with me.” John said, crossing his arms on his chest.

“Look, either you walk out willingly.. Or I drag you out, in which case, you might not be breathing anymore.. you choose.” Bucky’s words were strong, deep, and quite threatening.

Y/N finally snapped out of her shock, and moved away from John, walking to stand behind Bucky and Steve. John’s eyes glared at her, his jaw stiffening. “Get. Out.” She said to him, putting her hand on Bucky’s lower back.

Bucky noticed it, and did his best to hide a smile.. but John noticed it as well.

“What, him? Really?” John’s laugh came out like a cackle, “HIM? Really, Y/N? He’s a murderer!”

“Don’t even get me started John. Fuck whatever you have to say! You have no words that would make me ever want you back. What I chose to do, is none of your business.. But, if you wanna talk about it, at least Bucky would treat me right! He’d sure as hell treat me better than you ever could!” Y/Ns words came out strong, staring up at John.

“But I know you, Y/N. I know what you like.. what you don’t like…” John eyed her up and down, a smirk forming on his face.

A chill ran through Y/Ns body, “No, you don’t. You wouldn’t have a single clue.”

“And you think he would?” John rolled his eyes, “He’s a hundred something years old, Y/N! He probably has problems getting it up-“

Those words were quite the mistake, and John was quick to learn that.

Bucky’s vibranium hand was on his throat quickly, lifting him up into the air, “John, I don’t like you. Never have. Y/Ns too good for you.” His words were deep, his eyes piercing through John’s while he wriggled in his grasp.

“Buck…” Steve’s voice warned, but Y/N shook her head.

“He deserves whatever he’s got coming to him.” Her voice said, crossing her arms on her chest.

A low growl emerged from Bucky’s throat, his hand tightening on John’s neck, “Just so you know, and I really want you to know this…” He lowered John down just enough so that he could speak into his ear, “If Y/N ever decided she wanted me, she’d make me the happiest man alive. And, just because you brought it up..” He chuckled, “I’ll make sure to let you know what it’s like, to actually satisfy her. I guarantee to you that I’ll hear sounds from her that you couldn’t even dream about.”

John gasped against Bucky’s hold, trying to fight against him, but his face was starting to turn the wrong shade..

Y/Ns eyes were wide, trying to process Bucky’s words.

“Buck, let him go.” Y/Ns voice came out soft, her hand reaching up to rest on his shoulder.

Bucky turned to look at her, his gaze softening. His grip on John however, did not. He moved him over, almost tossing him to Steve.

“Take this trash out, would ya?” He asked Steve, and he simply nodded.

“Let’s go.” Steve said to him, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt.

“Fuck you Y/N!” John shouted, as he was dragged out of her room.

“Never again!!” She yelled after him.

The room was silent for a long moment, Bucky’s eyes glued on the doorway, making sure that John was really gone. Y/Ns hand went to her cheek, finding that it was actually really sore, a soft gasp of pain escaping her lips. Bucky snapped out of his angry trance, and moved towards her.

“Doll.. Are you alright?” His eyebrows furrowed together, a look of worry in his eyes.

Y/N looked up into his eyes, his icy irises staring down into her own, “What you said…” She paused, searching his eyes, “Did you… I mean..”

“Did I mean it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N nodded her head, and his answer surprised her.

In one swift motion, Bucky’s flesh arm wrapped around her waist, pulling their bodies together. He lowered his head so that their foreheads met, his orbs staring into hers.

“I meant every word.” He said to her, his voice deep, yet comforting.

“Thank god.” Y/N barely finished her words before she wrapped her arms around his neck, and closed the distance between their lips.

It was a strong, passionate kiss, both of their mouths moving in sync with one another. Steve had actually come back to tell them that John was taken care of, but seeing them in each others arms like that… He smiled, and silently left.

Y/N slowly parted the kiss, breathlessly looking up at him, a grin on her face. Bucky chuckled softly, his vibranium hand coming up to gently caress where John had hit her. A shiver rolled through her body, the coolness of the metal was comforting against her hot flesh.

“Now… Since that’s out of the way.. how ‘bout we go put my words to good use, and see what kinda pretty little sounds that mouth of yours can make.”

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes story #bucky barnes x female #bucky fluff #marvel bucky barnes #marvel bucky fanfic #bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #bucky x you

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jobean12-blog · 7 months

Text

Temptations

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader

Word Count: 1,854

Summary: Javi's always busy with work and despite his warnings you can't stay away...you miss him too much.

Author's Note: This is for my Kinktober and one of my favorite kinks- choking...the focus is mostly on the absolute sexiness of this man and his hands in general because clearly I can't stop myself! This is also my first time writing for Javi and I want to thank my sweet love @flordeamatista ❤️❤️for checking it over and making sure I stayed true to the character. Thank you all so much for reading, much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: sassy and flirty reader, Javi is a bit d-om-ish and pos-sess-iv-e, o-ra-l, f-in-g-er-in-g, ma-s-tu-r-ba-tio-n, softness too, a c-u-rs-e or three, light c-ho-k-in-g, c-o-c-k w-ar-m-in-g

Kinktober Masterlist

Joel Miller Masterlist (Pedro)

“Javi.”

He looks up from his drink, continuing to twirl the small glass between his fingers.

“Someone here to see you,” Steve says, giving nothing away.

“Who?” Javi asks, his eyes narrowing.

Steve just raises his eyebrows and cocks his head before walking off, leaving Javi’s office door open.

Javi mutters a curse under his breath before he lifts the drink to his lips and finishes it in one quick sip. He almost chokes on it a second later when you push the door open and saunter in.

“Surprised to see me?” you ask demurely as you slowly shut the door and lock it.

“Angel,” he growls out in warning. “What are you doing here?”

You feign a pout and toy with the tie of your jacket. “Aren’t you happy?”

He abruptly stands from his desk, his chair flying backward and banging into the wall.

You barely have time to react before he’s standing over you, one long finger pointed in your face and his eyes dark.

“I thought I told you not to come here.”

You stand your ground, raising your chin ever so slightly and meeting his gaze. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

You meant it to come out more powerfully, a strong statement, but instead it’s whiny and petulant.

“It’s not safe,” Javi says as he steps closer. “You know what I’m dealing with.”

You reach up to grab the ends of his loose tie, teasingly pulling on the fabric to bring him even closer.

“I made sure no one saw me,” you explain. “Even parked the car far away.”

He stares at you, unmoving, and you close the distance between you, pressing your body to his.

“What do you want?” he asks, placing his hands on his hips even as they twitch to touch you.

“You.”

“Angel.”

You hold his stare in challenge but he doesn’t relent and steps back to put some distance between you.

“Fine,” you huff. “I’ll leave.”

You turn on your heel and start for the door but before you grab the doorknob he has you in his arms, pressed back to the door with his knee between your legs.

A smile starts to curl your lips and he takes your chin between his fingers.

“You never listen, do you.”

It’s not a question, just a simple statement of the truth and your smile grows.

“And you work too hard,” you state, batting your lashes.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk as he dips his head, brushing his nose along your throat.

“Since you’re here…” he murmurs.

He drags himself away, leaving you panting against the door.

“Take your coat off. Get comfortable.”

With that he turns toward his desk and falls back into the chair.

You stay plastered to the door, carefully sliding the ties of your coat between your fingers.

“Javi,” you sing. “I didn’t come here to watch you work.”

He looks up just as you pull the ties free, the sides of the coat falling open to reveal your mostly bare skin.

“Fuck,” he growls, letting his eyes sweep over you. “You’ve been walking around the office like that this whole time?”

You wave a dismissive hand and shrug the jacket from your shoulders, casually throwing it over the file cabinet.

“Fuck,” he repeats as he gets an unobstructed view of your lingerie set.

“You said that already,” you tease, not moving from the door.

With a wide spread of his legs he leans back in the chair and crooks his finger at you.

Each step you take is slow and calculated, the sway of your hips enticing in every way. You can already see the tightness in his pants and when you reach him and sit on the edge of the desk, you let your eyes drop between his legs.

The pen in his hand creaks under the pressure of his grip as you wait, dragging your gaze up his chest to meet his eyes.

He leans forward, invading your space and reaches up to trace his fingers over the fluttering pulse in your neck. You tilt your head, granting him better access and he smooths his fingers lower, tracing your collarbone.

Goosebumps rise against his touch and you let out a soft sigh.

His hands slide lower, along the swell of your breasts, then he grabs your legs, forcing them to spread open, knees laid back against the edge of his desk.

“Don’t you dare fucking move,” he says as he stands, slowly sliding his loose tie from his neck.

Your breath hitches but you remain still.

With careful movements he takes each of your wrists in his hand and pulls your arms behind your back, settling your hands just above your ass. You feel him wrap his tie around your wrists and secure it tightly.

When he meets your eyes again he raises a questioning brow. You know he’s checking to make sure you’re comfortable but you can’t resist sassing him anyway.

“Sure you don’t want to use your cuffs?”

He sits back onto the chair with a muttered curse then leans in, inhaling against the skin of your thigh before nuzzling his nose along the silk between your legs.

“This pretty pussy of yours is all I want…to eat, to fuck, to own.”

You moan out his name and your hips roll.

“And when I tell you to do something…,” he whispers, knowing you’re desperate for his mouth, “I expect you to listen.”

He runs his thumb over the flimsy fabric, relishing in the slickness as your panties grow wetter.

“Javi,” you whine. “Stop teasing.”

“You think I should give you what you want?” he asks, his soft kisses along your inner thighs making them shake.

“You just said my pussy is all you want…”

Your cheekiness makes his eyes flash with intense heat and he rips your panties down your legs, leaving them hanging off one heeled foot. He kisses his way back up your leg, nibbling your thigh and drawing a groan of impatience from your throat.

His hot breath blows over your pussy and you rock your hips in a desperate attempt for more.

He teases you still, his feather light kisses just out of reach.

“Please,” you cry out, even as your expression is one of pained frustration.

“Say it again,” he murmurs.

“Please Javi,” you moan.

His tongue licks a long line through your folds and he immediately closes his lips around your clit, fluttering his tongue over and over.

“Yes Javi, just like that,” you say with a breathy exhale.

He savors all he can before sliding two fingers inside you and watching as you take them, the evidence of how much you love it glistening on his skin.

“So perfect Angel.”

You beg for more and he slides his free hand up to cup the base of your neck, putting enough pressure to let you know you’re his in every way. Your eyes squeeze shut and you choke out his name.

As his tongue works over your clit and he applies just the right amount of pressure to your throat, your walls start to swell and clench around his fingers.

He pulls away and presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing gently until you open your eyes to look at him.

“Tell me Angel. Who do you belong to? Tell me as you come all over my fingers.”

You whisper, your voice nearly raw from your pleading cries. “You…I belong to you Javi.”

He presses his lips to your clit once more and your back arches hard, your breath catching as shudders take over your muscles and your pussy tightens around his fingers.

With softening strokes and lazy kisses he draws out your pleasure and tenderly squeezes your throat.

“Then you better not forget it.”

Stay just like that,” he commands as he withdraws his fingers and stands.

He starts to unbuckle his belt, the leather hanging open as he begins to work on his pants. When his cock is free he swipes his fingers through your soaked pussy, gathering your orgasm and rubbing the sticky slickness along his length.

His free hand finds your throat again and he holds you in place, forced to watch and nothing more.

You struggle against the binds on your wrists, needing to be free as your eyes track his every move.

“Javi. Please. Let me touch you.”

His large hand moves up and down his cock in smooth strokes, pumping hard and fast, the tip bumping your clit and edging you toward overstimulation. Every time you flinch from the touch his smirk grows and his grip on your neck tightens.

“No touching. Not yet,” he rasps.

His thighs shake, tight with impending release. “I’m going to mark you Angel.”

“That’s so hot,” you whimper. “Come on me Javi.”

Your teeth are digging so hard into your bottom lip it’s painful and with three more strokes he grunts, his cum splashing across your pussy and lower stomach.

Spent, he releases your neck as he folds over you, kissing your lips and freeing your wrists. He looks between your bodies, taking in the sight of you covered in his release.

“Fuck Angel, you look perfect.”

Keeping your eyes on him, you dip your finger into the puddle then lift it to your lips, sliding it into your mouth and moaning at the flavor. His cock spasms at the sight before he meets your gaze, his expression sated but still full of burning heat.

Taking some tissues he quickly cleans you up before he sits back in his chair and pats his thigh. You slide off the desk into his arms.

“Aren’t you happy I came to visit?” you whisper into his neck.

He gives you a satisfied hum and wraps you up, gently running his fingers along your throat before his lips find yours again. His kiss is delicate and slow and your hands brush along his chest until you find the open collar of his shirt, dipping your fingers inside to touch his warm skin.

Your hands move higher, over his shoulders to caress his neck and face and you brush the hair from his sweaty forehead before scraping your fingers over his scalp. He murmurs your name, kissing you harder when you shift in his lap and straddle his waist.

“Angel,” he growls as he starts to harden beneath you. “Are you planning on distracting me from work for the rest of the day?”

You smile against his mouth with a roll of your hips, placing soft kisses along his jaw and down his neck, teasing any inch of his skin you can find.

And without an answer you reach between your bodies and take him in your hand, guiding him slowly inside you.

“FUCK,” he hisses, pulsing and throbbing and stretching you out so good.

His fingers dig into your skin before his hands wander over your body, caressing every curve.

“I won’t stop you from working Javi,” you hum as you get comfortable and lay your head along his shoulder, kissing just below his ear. “Go right ahead.”

@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @littleseasiren @lorilane33 @pedritosdarling

#javier peña #javier pena x reader #Javier peña x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x y/n #javier pena #javier pena narcos #javier pena imagine #javier pena x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #narcos

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hp-hcs · 6 months

Note

Um, yeah, I don't really have a specific character in mind (so you can ignore this if u want to!), but how would some characters react to a male reader who listens to muggle music, but like- metal?? yk

this is the kind of shit i wanna see in my inbox hell fucking yeah

❕i’ll be honest, my vibe has always been more punk/pop punk/metalcore/hard rock 🤷‍♂️ i did my best buttttt these are all just songs from my playlist so- (i adore my slytherin babygirls but they’ll always be second to my lord and savior glenn danzig)❕

also accidentally wrote gn reader again so that’s pretty girlypop

requests open

i’ve never actually written one of these like, group headcanons for a whole bunch of people, but i keep seeing other people doing it so we’re trying it out ig. do we like it? yes? no?

slytherin boys: gn! muggleborn! reader’s music taste is rather…unexpected

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

mattheo: die, die my darling — misfits

i’m of the opinion that mattheo would fucking LOVE the misfits (once you introduce him)

he walks into your dorm to ask you a quick question, and you’re just dancing around in your room screaming the lyrics to:

“DIE DIE DIE MY DARLING, DONT UTTER A SINGLE WORD”

“DIE DIE, DIE MY DARLING, JUST SHUT YOUR PRETTY MOUTH”

he’s like 🧍‍♂️😦😍

and that’s when he falls in love with you

jk, unless????

you show him the misfits’ entire discography, and bitch about jerry only (as u should)

he takes a bit too much of a liking to helena 🤨

yk, the song that goes “if i cut off your arms, and i cut off your legs, would you still love me, anyway? if you’re bound and you’re gagged, draped and displayed, would you still love me, anyway?”

🤨🤨🤨

interesting, mattheo. interesting. not concerning in the slightest.

he adores them and you guys listen to their music together when you study <33

y’all start running around screaming I AINT NO GODDAMN SON OF A BITCH

your teachers love it <3

theodore: nazi punks fuck off — dead kennedys

y’all were showering together

(is that really like a sexy thing? i sure as fuck don’t know 🖤🩶🤍💜)

you started singing to yourself and babygirl was like 😳☺️

he loves ur voice <3

even when you’re singing “nazi punks, nazi punks, nazi punks FUCK OFF”

(cause like……yk…….he’s a wizard nazi himself 😬👍)

awkwarddddd

he always lets you put on your music

to be honest, he doesn’t really care about the lyrics, he just loves that you love it

(*cough* simp *cough*)

draco: possessed by satan — gorgoroth

you’d just come back from winter break and had brought one of your holiday presents back with you: a new record player and a shitload of vinyls

you set it up in your dorm and asked your roomie, draco, if he’d mind if you played something

he'd never admit it, but he was wildly curious what muggle music sounded like

so of course, you blessed him with the sweet sweet sounds of gorgoroth 😌🥰

(aww, nostalgia <3)

he just looked at you like 😨

you then proceeded to educate him on gaahl beating the shit out of someone (a l l e g e d l y) and threatening to drink his blood

he’s now even more concerned

(do you or do you not tell him about the gogoroth concert ft. alive ‘crucified’ actors & impaled sheep heads vs. the country of poland?)

((idk babe that’s for you to decide))

blaise: boogie woogie wu — insane clown posse

i feel like blaise is chill enough to give any music a shot before deciding if he likes it or not

you weren’t that close, just acquaintances, but one day you just offered up your other headphone to him in the middle of a really boring class

oh, he’s in love

🎵😍😍🎶

you make him a playlist of songs you think he’d love, and he lowkey almost starts crying and that’s how he asks you out on your first date

(is it terrible to think that this might be your wedding’s first dance song?)

((NOW MURDERRRR))

(((UH OH, HERE COME THE PO-PO TOO MUCH MURDER)))

enzo: custer — slipknot

it’s your ringtone for someone 😌

like ur mom, or something? idfk

“incoming call from: birthgiver” 🎵CUT CUT CUT ME UP AND FUCK FUCK FUCK ME UP🎶

enz:🧍‍♂️

he doesn’t even know how to react

he’s only a bit terrified

he’ll listen to a few other songs you play for him, but will make you play the weird sisters afterwards

tom: reincarnate — motionless in white

he’s bitching about how much muggles suck and muggle music is trash blah blah blah

and ur like “oh really? wanna bet?”

you whip out your phone and start blasting your playlist

he would absolutely eat that shit up

it’s cheaper than therapy ig 🤷‍♂️

he hates being wrong about anything ever so he’ll never admit out loud that he likes it, but he will just show up at your dorm at like eleven pm like:

“do you have any more uh……song recommendations or something…..uhhhh” 🧍‍♂️

babygirl 💞

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ryuyejiho · 11 days

Text

"On your knees" - Wooyoung

Pairing: Wooyoung X Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: 18+, Smut

Summary: Don't disturb the cook in the kitchen because it may end badly.

Word Count: ~1.2K

________________________________

"Would you be willing to kindly bring me flour from the pantry?"

"'Kindly? I help you all the time," I spoke up indignantly, but I wanted to laugh at how quickly he was getting annoyed

"You don't help. You just sit and comment on what I'm doing wrong" he threw the spoon into the sink and made an offended face, specifically looking at me so I could see how unhappy he was.

"Okay, okay, I'll get it. Jeez," with a heaviness I got up and headed for the pantry. After a few minutes I was back.

"When can we eat?" I asked, placing the bag of flour on a chair.

"Then when it's ready. It would be faster if you helped me," he turned around and put the flour in a cup.

"Well, what should I do?"

"Cut up that cucumber, tomato, lettuce and kimchi. Open all the cans of corn, beans and peas and pour the water out of them. Add to a bowl and mix. Later... I'll think of something for you," I rolled my eyes and took a knife in my hand. I sliced the cucumber but quickly got bored so I put the knife down and walked closer to him and hugged his back.

"Wooyoungie, honey, darling," I mumbled but he gave no response. Finally, I moved away from him and squeezed between him and the countertop, facing him. I grabbed his cheeks and squeezed so that his lips made a pout.

"Aaaah, stop, don't bother!" he exclaimed but couldn't hide his smile.

"I'm bored, can't we order take-out and do something else for this time?" I tried to convince him in a charming voice.

"No," he replied shortly and continued stirring something in the bowl while looking over my shoulder. I knew it wouldn't do anything and he was too adamant so standing on tiptoe I moved closer to his neck which I started kissing. At first he whined that I shouldn't disturb him, but I knew how much he liked it.

"Come on, I know you want to do something else now," I whispered in his ear at which his muscles tensed but he shook his head.

"If you want to eat fast then step back and don't bother me," he moved away from me standing by the induction cooker.

" I want to eat ... you," I said looking at him. He pulled his eyebrows together and gripped the countertop tighter. "We can finish later. So please..."

"Do you want to eat me?" he spoke up in a low voice quickly walking up to me, grabbed my hips and pressed me against the countertop.

"Yes..." I whispered. I honestly didn't expect such a sudden reaction but I won't complain.

""Then on your knees," he said it as if he was giving me an order, nodding his head in a gesture of demonstration.

I had to give myself a moment to understand what was happening, he grabbed the side of my neck and brought his face closer to mine. Repeating the same words, he began to push me down. I smiled and crouched down, immediately pulling down his sweatpants. I licked my lips as I saw his cock in front of me which was getting harder and harder. Without waiting a moment longer, I took it in my hand and put it in my mouth. He let out a loud hiss and clamped his fingers firmly on my head.

After a few minutes of sucking him lazily I wanted to pull him out but he prevented me from doing so, pushing my head to his hips. I started to choke but somehow it didn't particularly seem to bother me, to be honest I was starting to get used to it.

I guess Wooyoung's biggest fetish was choking, and he showed it more than once, once in a more drastic way and once in a less drastic way.

He pulled his cock out of my mouth for me to breathe but immediately put it in again, this time he was the one setting the pace. He was literally fucking my throat, I could feel the tip of his cock hitting the back of my throat and the pressure of his fingers on my head getting harder with each thrust.

I lifted my gaze and looked at him, he was looking at me with his lips parted from which fairly loud moans were pouring out, his hips moving back and forth. He moved his fingers of one hand to my cheek and held my hair tightly with his other hand.

I knew he was quite close to orgasm, his movements getting stronger, faster and sometimes careless with each passing minute. Whenever he was close nothing could stop him, always with only the goal in his mind to feel blissful as soon as possible. Of course, this doesn't mean that he doesn't pay attention to anything else but himself, he always does everything so that we can enjoy an orgasm together at the same time.

And when we were in a one-sided situation, like this one now, he always returned the favor. That's why I knew that the better I did him good, the better reward I would get.

"Is that what you wanted? Did you want to feel my cock in your mouth? Did you want to feel my cum?" I was unable to answer so I only muttered. But he suddenly stopped his movements and pulled his cock out of my mouth " Then you'll get it somewhere else".

He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me upwards immediately turning me around with my back to him. He pushed me impently onto the countertop and lifted one leg putting my knee on the countertop. I was uncomfortable, the edge of the countertop pressing into my hip. But when he pounded into me with his cock all those thoughts went away. All I could think about now was how good he felt inside me. How good he was fucking me.

He spanked my buttocks from time to time, pressing my body against the kitchen counter with his other hand. Because of his hard strokes into me, my body kept bouncing on the furniture. The entire kitchen was filled with the sounds of our bodies hitting each other, the banging of the cabinet door below me and the containers and bottles sliding around my head.

Our moans were getting louder, Wooyoung's thrusts were getting sloppier and not as rhythmic as before. He pounded faster and harder which brought me momentarily to orgasm. I felt through the overstimulation squirt on his thighs, moments after that he put his fingers on my clit and started rubbing it as fast as if his life depended on it.

Feeling all this pleasure and feeling his cum spill deep inside me, I came again squirting so much that his thigh was all wet and a small puddle formed on the floor between our legs.

He gave me one last spank and came out of me. When most of his cum had flowed out of me and was now dripping between my thighs, I stood up straight to kiss him. But he moved away and, smiling ominously, said " You think it's over? Go to the bedroom."

#kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #ateez #smut #ateez smut #ateez wooyoung #atz wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung smut #smut kpop #kpop smut

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allthegothihopgirls · 10 days

Note

Hc that Jason really resonated with Frankenstein’s monster after he came back from the dead and his terrorization of Bruce is, in part, inspired by the monsters terrorization of Victor

ok i'm gonna preface this by saying what the fuck anon (/pos). i've been talking about this concept since it popped into my inbox i'm actually OBSESSED.

clawing at the insides of my enclosure foaming at the mouth etc etc

anyways, 1000% YES. the whole thing of jason being put back together not only at the hands of another, but also in a way which is so so unfamiliar to the him he knew before death, soooo extremely frankenstein's monster-coded.

both brought to life by impossible circumstances, and neither feel as though they own their autonomy. searching for some kind of redemption, needing to feel complete or avenged.

both having a sense of justice, shunned by society, one which doesn't earn them praise but instead punishment and disgust. both resenting the decisions of their creators/mentors. torn between worlds, neither of which they feel accepted in. oh my GOD.

i'm a huge fan of the whole idea of jason coming back and feeling displaced and in an entirely foreign body, and that's just oh so frankenstein's monster..

like IMAGINE that being his frame of reference for his feelings. put together what feels like piece by piece, messily, with only second-hand scraps. all with no regard for the person he was before, only with the intentions of being 'repurposed'.. AHHHHH

(as well as the fact that it's ALL mental for jason, he comes back 'perfect', unscathed and replenished. he has no physical justification for feeling the way he does, second-hand and hand-sewn. his feeling of 'monstrosity' stems from elsewhere; the feeling he gets walking around in this body which is simply not his, or the look in bruce's eyes when he sees him again for the first time, seeing a monster not a son.)

also the conscious knowing that his make-up is no longer his own, he's composed of parts which are unrecognisable to his old body, the one he owned and hand-carved through age. having to walk through days, feeling his actions as his own, but having a body which warps the intent behind them to all onlookers.

god imagine, blaming your creator for your fate, and needing the answers of your inadequacy to come from him himself.. and no other source can explain your imperfection in a way you can accept, it has to be him. jason NEEDS bruce's validation, to confirm or deny that he is irredeemable and a lost cause.

as much as i don't think jason would take pride in relating so much to frankenstein's monster, it's definitely a lingering thought in the back of his mind, something that determines his own story and outcomes.

he thinks of him when he loses control, and knows that he can't use it to justify the way he acted. he cannot tell the monster that his actions were okay, and that the people just did not understand, although as much as he wants to.. because he knows that isn't the case. he knows the monster was always a monster, and grows to feel the same way about himself.

he resents the way he acts, because all he sees is the monster. the one who acts according to his moral compass, but is always wrong. always clouded by his monstrosity. he decides he really should never trust himself or his intuition, because it's always disgusting and ugly, and even he'll be able to look back in retrospect and be repulsed by the way he carried himself, and not hate the way everyone punished him for it.

he wants so desperately to get himself back, morph back into the boy who knew his rights and wrongs and was never looked at funnily for acting how any normal person would. but the only part of his past self that still exists is in his mind, he wants to rip it out and show people that it's still him inside of there, but he simply can't do that.

his body changed without his permission, he never asked to be an abomination, a scientifical anomaly. he wants to scream about how it's not his fault, how he's not what the world paints him to be. how he can just be normal. but he's never really going to feel that way, as long as his mind and body remain two separate entities at war.

i feel like he clings onto the humanity of frankenstein's monster, and uses him as an anchor, something that shows him it's possible to remain acceptable and human.

i also think he analyses the character oh so deeply, to try and latch onto all the relatability he can find, the things he doesn't get from real people.

maybe he has a copy of the book, annotated in such a personal way. perhaps someone else stumbles upon it, and is just so distraught by the conclusions drawn from the scribbles and highlights, the way jason seems to view himself.

the way that although jason's always seen himself like the monster, unloveable and unacceptable, everyone else was always ready to accept him.

that maybe the real downfall of jason and frankenstein's monster is that the way they viewed themselves was too focused on the displacement they felt, assuming automatically that everyone else must feel the same way about them, if not worse. not taking the moment to let people learn to love them all over again.

anyways, unreliable narrators post resurrection!jason todd and frankenstein's monster, who were always seen with at least an ounce of humanity, but were both overridden by self-hatred and the disgust of their form, which led them to total exile and isolation.

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