#I’m a lil strong lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

subskz · 5 months

Note

Hey, I’m glad you’re back!! I’m the anon who asked about the making skz squirt, if you could elaborate more on it I’d really appreciate that!! I’m sorry if the sound wierdly formal lol I don’t really know how to do asks hah😅

thank u babe it’s great to be back!! and no worries at all ur perfectly fine <3 i ended up writing lil drabbles abt chan, lix, n lino based on this ask!

chan (fingering, handjob, multiple orgasms)

Chan was panting. Mouth hanging open, spilling out drool with each labored breath. Chest heaving, glazed with a mix of his sweat and his seed. Each gulp of oxygen was barely enough to satiate him when all the blood in his system was rushing to his hypersensitive length. It left his brain foggy, filled with nothing but you. Your observant gaze setting his skin on fire, your sweet voice lulling him into orgasm after orgasm, your fingers curling methodically inside him, your hand working his cock with a careful grip and a merciless pace.

“Hah, f-fuck!” he choked out. “Oh, God…close, ‘m close.”

You tightened your grip around his cock just as you slid down to its hilt, squeezing it with a force that made his hips surge up. His stomach, splattered with load after load of his cum, clenched wildly as his high drew near once again. He’d lost track of how many times he’d finished already, he’d lost track of anything but the sound of your gentle whispers, promising that you just wanted one more from him. Just one more.

“Please—ah—gonna cum again. Can I? P-please, can I?”

You cooed out loud. Even now, he found a way to make your heart swell in your chest. You’d pushed him well past his usual limit by now—to the point where every muscle in his body was pulsing with exhaustion, to the point where you were surprised he still had anything left in his system each time his seed spurted out of him—and yet, here he was, still remembering to ask you for permission. If both your hands hadn’t been occupied, you would’ve reached out to cup his face affectionately, to run your thumbs over his flushed cheeks and steady the thrashing of his head.

“Got even more for me, Channie?” you murmured. “Such a little giver, aren’t you? You can cum, baby, let it all out.”

Chan keened, his dulcet voice now deliciously hoarse from how much he’d strained it, crying out louder and louder with every new climax he reached. He was far too dizzy to even think about holding it back anymore. You watched with gleaming eyes as he emptied onto his stomach yet again, cock twitching in your palm and walls fluttering around your fingers. There was noticeably less to his release this time, just a few, short ropes spilling from his swollen tip to form a pearly pool at his belly button.

“That’s it, good boy,” you encouraged him. “Look at all that. You’re working so hard for me, huh, angel?”

Your praises anchored him and sent him further into a daze all at once, amplifying each ripple of pleasure that passed through his body. Carefully, you unwrapped your hand from around his aching length to give him a chance to catch his breath, to find his way down from his high and back to you. It took nearly a minute of sharp gasps and shuddering exhales for him to finally find the strength to respond, nodding weakly up at you.

“Doing okay?” he rasped. “Good for you?”

“So good, Channie.” You reached out with your free hand to pet his head, brushing his sweat-soaked curls from his face, soothing the near-delirium creeping up on his consciousness. “My baby's so strong. Taking it all so well, pushing his pretty body to the limit for me.”

A sweet, shy hum built up in the back of Chan’s throat, the laziest of smiles tugging at his lips as he leaned into your hand. You stayed that way for a moment, letting him bask in a touch that—unlike everything else he’d felt for well over an hour—wasn’t designed to set his nerve-endings ablaze. Just as he let his guard down, nuzzling fully into your palm, he felt your other pair of fingers shift suddenly inside of him. Not to pull out completely, rather, to readjust, pressing back against his sweet spot with a fresh lather of lube. It made his breath hitch, and he blinked his eyes open in confusion when the comfort of your hand on his cheek was suddenly lost, pulling away to trail over his tummy instead.

You flattened your palm against it without warning, pressing down on his toned muscles, smearing around the blend of sweat and cum to create a sinful coating over his skin. A full-body shudder ran through him, stomach tightening and hips twisting under your touch. You watched him writhe around in the sheets, relishing in the contracting of his muscles, the stickiness of the fluids, how they painted his body like he was your own personal canvas. Dragging your fingers down the ridges of his abs, you scooped up a portion of his cum and brought your hand back to his length.

Chan hiccuped, shrinking away reflexively, still far too fragile to handle any kind of stimulation. You curled your fingers around him, unfazed as you spread his own seed along his cock.

"Wait—mmph—I thought," he squeaked. "I-I thought...you said—"

“I know, baby. But look how excited you still are.” You gave him a quick, single pump, and he jolted. "I think you’ve got a little more for me, yeah? Just one more, can you do that, Channie?"

A whine met your ears, so rife with desperation that it pooled fresh heat within you. "I..." he sucked in a sharp breath as you began to stroke him again, delicately running all the way down from the swollen head of his cock to its base, already feeling it begin to harden again in your palm. "O-oh, please."

"You’ll do it for me, right? Channie's such a good boy, I know you can take it.”

“M-mm. Good boy,” Chan repeated quietly, eyes going half-lidded, like the words were enough to pull him into a trance. “Yeah, ‘m a good boy. I can do it for you—ah—I’ll do anything.”

You pushed your fingers deeper inside of him and curled up into the tender flesh, purring in approval. “My good boy. My strong boy, always taking whatever I give him.” Your words of adoration paired with the drag of your hands washed his head clear of any concerns, each gentle praise giving him the energy he needed to keep going. “Gonna treat you so good for this, angel.”

He squeezed his eyes shut with a whimper, so overwhelmed by all the different sensations at play that he couldn’t find it in him to absorb his surroundings anymore, to process anything other than the relentless pleasure creeping back up on him. The warm friction of your fist engulfing his cock, the embarrassing squelching sounds that came with every pump—from the lube, from his own cum smearing all over his length—the fullness of your fingers burrowing inside of him. He was already so sensitive under normal circumstances, but now, after being drained over and over to his very last drop, his reactions were more heightened than ever. Every little touch was enough to make him feel like he might burst, sending him closer to the edge at an alarming rate.

Chan’s thighs tensed, teeth sinking into his lower lip to muffle a high-pitched moan as you rolled your palm along his dripping head at the very same instant the pads of your fingers teased his sweet spot.

“Oh, my gosh. Oh, God th-that’s—”

“Good?” you giggled. “You’re so easy, baby. Just a few touches and you’re ready to be used again. Bet I could play with you for the rest of the night if I wanted.”

He could only respond with a broken whine, not trusting himself to speak when his voice was sure to come out as a garbled mess. He clenched tightly around you as you repeated the action, sucking your slick fingers further inside of him, wordlessly begging for what he was too shy to say.

You gave an appreciative hum, admiring the way his spent body was still reacting so eagerly, so willing to endure it as many times as it might take to satisfy you. “Just like that, Channie. Keep it up, okay? Gonna milk my pretty boy dry.”

His mouth fell open again, face scrunching up as you curled over his prostate with more vigor, setting off another jolt of electricity through his veins. You swirled your thumb rhythmically around his slit for good measure, delighted by the way his hands flew out, releasing his death grip on the sheets in search of you.

“Ah, ah!” he gasped. “Gonna…‘m close, gettin’ close again!”

Chan’s features twisted into a look of pure desperation, eyes still sealed tight as he mindlessly grasped around for you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, s’ good. Feels…f-feels…”

“Feels?” you echoed sweetly.

“Good, ngh…'s weird. Think s-something’s gonna—ah! Too much!”

His warning yelp caught you off guard, softening you with concern the moment you were able to properly make out what he was trying to say. But just as you prepared to pause and check on him, Chan’s hips surged up fiercely, lifting his back off the mattress in a movement that only pressed your fingers harder into the roof of his walls. His whole body stiffened, frozen in a mesmerizing arch.

A near-sob escaped him as his orgasm hit—somehow, harder and more all-consuming than any of his previous ones combined. It sent a shiver down your spine to hear the sound ring out shamelessly through the room. Somewhere in the back of Chan’s mind, he faintly registered that the filthy cry echoing in his ears was coming from him, but in that moment, he was far too preoccupied with the intensity of what he was experiencing to care. How the muscles in his abdomen spasmed completely out of his control, how the pleasure that seared through him was so euphoric that it was almost unbearable.

And he was wet. Not just from his perspiration, not just from all the cum you’d smeared on his skin; something thinner, warmer, wetter—and it was everywhere.

You watched in awe as his release shot out of him with a force you’d never seen before, clear fluid spraying all over his stomach, his chest, even reaching as far as his shoulders and neck. It dripped down his rosy cheeks, droplets falling from his tilted jaw and dribbling along the curve of his pecs. Chan seemed to realize midway through that there was definitely something abnormal about the sheer extremity of his climax, because his muscular thighs squeezed around you, trying frantically to close in on each other and put a stop to whatever was happening. His arms flew up to cross over his drenched chest, a weak attempt to hide away what was sure to be a humiliating sight.

When your eyes fell to his heaving stomach, catching sight of the streams traveling along his toned muscles, you felt your own core tighten with arousal. His walls pulsed around your fingers with each spurt, still clenching erratically even as the last few waves of his orgasm had passed through his weary body, like the strength of it was too much to be contained.

As tentatively as you could, you unwrapped your hand from around his cock, allowing it to fall limp against the puddle of fluids on his tummy. Chan’s labored breaths gradually began to even out, only interrupted by a soft, shaky whimper when you removed your fingers from the slippery heat of his hole.

“You made a mess,” you whispered.

Despite the exhaustion creeping up on his senses, Chan’s reaction was immediate. His hazy eyes snapped open, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over him as he processed the scene in front of him—the soiled bed, your dripping hand, the juices covering his stomach. He hadn’t thought it was possible for his body to feel any hotter, but the filthy sight instantly proved him wrong, engulfing him with shame.

“Oh my gosh,” he wailed, hands trembling as they came to cover his soaked face. “Oh my God, I’m sorry, ‘m so sorry.”

You ran your fingers along his thigh with a feather-light touch, careful not to overstimulate him any further. “Shh, don’t apologize, Channie. Look how well you did for me,” you soothed him. “You let it all out, just like a good boy should.”

He whimpered into his palms, unconvinced, completely and utterly mortified by the display he’d just put on for you. His body had never reacted like that before—he hadn’t even known it was possible for it to react like that.

“Th-this is so embarrassing. ‘M sorry,” he mumbled. Disoriented, he scrambled around in the wet sheets, trying to force himself upright. “I’ve n-never…oh my God. 'M so sorry, I’ll clean it up—”

“Easy, baby.” You reached out to rest your hand over his chest, feeling his heart pounding under your palm as you gently nudged him back against the mattress. “You’re exhausted. Lie down, let me take care of you.”

Despite Chan’s soft whine of protest, he didn't resist much before complying, falling back against the pillows with a heavy thump. With how fast his head was spinning, coupled with the way his limbs felt like they’d been reduced to jelly, he wasn’t even sure how he’d expected himself to stand, anyway.

Your weight lifted from the bed, leaving him weary in his own mess, still trying to get his breathing under control. His embarrassment didn't die down the entire time you were gone, nor did the adrenaline coursing through his veins. But when you returned with the gentle press of a washcloth against his skin, his muscles finally began to relax, replacing the hot shame in his skin with a comforting warmth.

"You really gave me everything, huh?" you marveled, dabbing tenderly at the fluids drying on his skin. "I'm so proud of you, baby."

Chan murmured something weakly in response, eyelids beginning to droop again as his fatigue from the past hour finally caught up to him. Even if you couldn't make out his slurred reply, you knew one thing for sure. When Chan said that he would do anything for you, he meant anything.

felix (mirror sex, handjob, overstimulation)

You could tell Felix was nervous. Stuck in his head, not entirely there with you.

His sounds came more restrained than usual—breathless moans cut short in his throat, like he couldn't allow himself to indulge for too long. His eyes were wide open and alert, a pair of dark, gleaming full moons, not daring to flutter shut and lean fully into the pleasure you were drawing out of him with each stroke. They flickered around between his reflection and the view of you curled around his body from behind. Legs draped over his thighs to hold them apart with your own, head peeking out from behind him to observe his every twitch and shiver, arms wrapped around his waist as you toyed with his cock.

He looked lost, like a bunny in the woods. Trapped, but still unsure whether he was in any danger or not. All he really knew was that he didn't want to escape.

He cursed under his breath as you picked up the pace of your pumps, a low, rumbling vocalization that added to the flutter of excitement in both your stomach and his. "How is it, Lixie?" You brought your lips close to his ear, brushing against its shell just enough to make goosebumps rise on the back of his neck.

"Ah, good." He furrowed his brows together, adorably concentrated. "Feels really good, th-thank you."

You let out another light puff of air, warm breath fanning over his skin, tickling his hair. "You're holding out on me,” you pouted. “Want me to stop?"

Felix clenched his jaw, stiffening against you. "N-no, please. I really want it. Don't stop touching me, please."

He panicked slightly as your hand slowed its steady pace, an unconvinced hum spilling directly from your lips into his ear, thickening the cloud of lust his mind. "What's got you so tense, angel? You're like a deer in headlights."

His gaze landed back on the sight of himself in the mirror; freckled skin dusted pink, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, lean frame encased snugly with your limbs, but still so rigid. You rested your chin on his shoulder, following his wandering stare, and he nearly squeezed his thighs together when you both caught the sight of his cock, flushed red and throbbing in the cage of your fingers. You didn’t doubt that he would’ve closed his legs completely if yours weren’t prying them apart. Instead, he turned his head to the side; suddenly embarrassed.

“It’s cute,” you giggled, giving his length a playful squeeze. As if to prove your point, it jerked in your grasp, pulsing with another burst of arousal. “That’s not what you’re stressing about, is it, baby?”

Felix swallowed, your simple compliment adding to the coil tightening in his core more than it probably should’ve. “No,” he rasped quietly. “Just…ah. Just wanna make sure I can do this for you. What if I can’t?”

You dragged your fingers along the underside of his dick, taking satisfaction in the ripple you felt pass through his back muscles where they were pressed firmly against your chest. “If it doesn’t work, I still get to see my pretty boy cum,” you reasoned. “Worth it either way, right?”

It was his turn to giggle, quiet and sheepish. Still not fully relaxed, but he at least found the confidence to lift his timid gaze and meet yours in the mirror. His eyes were already so big, so keen, under normal circumstances, but now, blown wide with desire, they captivated you more than ever. Deceptively innocent. They’d shone the exact same way when he’d first asked if you could make this happen, like a curious kitten itching to explore uncharted territory.

He trusted you wholeheartedly to satisfy that curiosity, to work the ins and outs of his body better than he ever could and take him to heights that he could only dream of. He’d practically beamed when you’d agreed to it. So eager, so grateful. The desire was still there burning within him—stronger than ever, actually, when he could feel his high inch closer and closer each time your hand sank down on his cock. He just hadn’t anticipated the apprehension that his thoughts would create along with it. He didn’t want to disappoint you.

“Don’t think so hard about it, Lixie.” You pressed a soothing kiss to his temple. “Empty your cute little head and just focus on feeling good."

Felix let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding, shoulders slumping slightly, fingers uncurling from their nervous grip on the sheets. With an obedient nod, he allowed himself to loosen up, spurred on by your other hand coming to drift gently down his abdomen, stroking his stomach muscles up and down in a hypnotic rhythm.

"I’ll take care of it all, make sure to make my baby cum just right.”

You pressed another kiss to his cheek as he tilted his head back to rest it on your shoulder, melting into you, toned back relaxing fully against the softness of your chest. Little by little, you peppered his face with calming pecks, relishing in the warmth of his skin, the race of his pulse under your lips. Each soft, wet pucker made his head spin a little more, and he cocked it obediently to the side when you trailed along his jawline down to his neck. Combined with the friction building up on his cock and the playful dancing of your fingers along his abs, it quickly became difficult for him to focus on anything else. Just as you’d coaxed him to do, he stopped thinking for himself.

His mouth fell open to spill out a breathy groan when you paused your pumping to focus on the tip of his cock instead. It was noticeably louder—sweeter without his teeth clamping down to suppress it this time. You curled your fingers around his swollen head, using the precum that had leaked out to add an intoxicating slickness to your movements.

Your eyes gleamed in the mirror, a purr of approval vibrating against Felix’s neck when his thighs jumped under yours, hips bucking into your hand in a plea for more.

“That’s my boy. See how nice it is to let go?” your tongue flicked out to glide carefully up his neck, making his length throb in your palm, harder this time. “I'm gonna make you feel so good, baby. You don't need to think for that."

The last of your words came out muffled as you sank your teeth hungrily into his skin, but Felix still absorbed each one, filling up the blank space in his mind. Your lips closed around his flesh to create a hot, delicious suction, and you had to push back a smile when you felt another shudder run through his body.

"Ah, please. ‘S good, g-gonna—”

He cut himself off with a sharp inhale as you rolled your palm around his leaking tip, stimulating every last nerve-ending with your sticky touch.

“Gonna cum for me?”

He gave a frantic nod, hips jerking up again to the best of their ability, chasing the warmth of your fist on pure instinct. But you kept it firmly wrapped around his head, concentrating solely on his most sensitive spot with expert rolls of your wrist to draw out his orgasm much faster and much more vigorously than he was used to. You swirled your tongue over the deep red ring you’d left on his neck, practically tasting the rapid beat of his his heart. That, coupled with the way you pressed down on his abdomen to keep him steady, sent him over the edge in a matter of seconds.

“Close, ‘m close,” he warned. “Fuck, p-please!”

He emptied into your palm with a choked moan, his low voice reverberating all around you and making your own heartrate spike. You dragged your teeth along his skin, amplifying his pleasure as his release shot out of him, coating your hand and dripping down his length.

“I’m not gonna stop,” you mumbled into his skin. “You want it, right? Want me to keep touching you ‘til you spray all over yourself?”

“Fuck, yes, please,” he gasped out. “Don’t stop, please. Ruin me—ngh—mess me up.”

You dragged your hand back down his cock’s base before the last wave of his climax had even passed, spreading the stickiness of his cum wherever your trailed and making him see stars. His voice cracked into a helpless squeak, having no chance to brace himself as you went right back to toying with his sore head. His hips writhed in a frenzy of overstimulation when you pressed your thumb against his slit, making his legs shoot up, thigh muscles contracting so fiercely that you couldn’t hold him down with your own this time.

Another chill ran up your spine as he threw his head back against your shoulder, bunny teeth digging into his bottom lip in weak attempt to hold in his string of curses.

“Gonna get you looking as filthy as your mind is, baby.” You pressed another sloppy kiss to his neck, dragging your lips over his throat as it bobbed with each heavy breath. “C’mon, I know you can do it. Spill it all out for me like a good boy.”

“M-mmph, please,” he whined. It was high-pitched and broken, so different from his usual rich baritone, you had trouble believing the words had come from him for a moment. The initial relief of his climax soon morphed into something more overwhelming, something much less bearable. A painful pang began to accompany each stroke of your hand, but the way it contrasted the nonstop flow of pleasure only pushed him further into bliss. “H-hurts. Hah, hurts s’ good. Please, more.”

You strengthened your grip with a playful click of your tongue as Felix began to squirm around more uncontrollably, his body crying out in protest of what his mind ordered him to do. It was too much and not enough all at once. Every cell in his body said that he couldn’t take any more, but at the same time, he needed it. He needed to feel more than he could bear.

The pleasure of his orgasm never fully ebbed, it only intensified, stretching out into a constant, throbbing ache the more you tortured his cock. There was no gradual build into it this time, no tension tightening little by little in his gut. Just a few more circles drawn into his wet tip, and something ignited deep within him, snapping the final thread.

He couldn’t even think to warn you before it happened, not when he himself wasn’t prepared for the surge of pleasure that burst in his abdomen. It rippled all throughout his stomach and inner thighs, spreading a dizzying heat and making his body thrash under your touch. A sound unlike any you’d ever heard him make before rang out around you. It was a near-shout, oddly cute and shaking pitifully each time he spasmed against you. Your eyes locked on his reflection just in time to see the fluid squirting from his cock, so powerful that it shot past where your thumb was pressed over his slit and spurted into the air.

The moment Felix felt his release splatter against his bare skin, his eyes snapped open, dark and wide, shining with wonder as he took in the sight of himself spraying all over his chest and stomach. The liquid covered your hand completely, dribbling down his pecs and clenching abdomen, splashing on his thighs and soaking into the bed underneath you.

You pressed kisses into his neck without taking your eyes off the mesmerizing display in the mirror, drinking in the roll of his eyes and the hot, red flush that crept up on his skin. He stiffened one last time, emptying the final wave of his release, then collapsed heavily against your chest.

His taut muscles went limp as he tried to catch his breath, a lazy, lopsided smile forming on his face and spilling a trickle of drool from his parted lips.

“Look at you, baby,” you crooned. “You did it.”

You let go of his softening length at last, dragging your soaked hands delicately over his tummy in an effort to wipe them clean. But practically every inch of his skin was dripping with something, and smearing your palms over his skin only added to the sticky mess coating them. Felix stayed panting without a word, eyes hazy and unfocused in the mirror, still smiling like he was lost in a dream.

He nestled into your hand the moment you reached up to run your fingers through his hair, wiping away the beads of sweat that had accumulated. “Are you with me, Lixie?”

“Mmm.” He shifted under your legs with a soft grunt, trying to twist his exhausted body to face you properly. Instead, he slumped uselessly back against you, with so much force that you nearly toppled into the mattress together.

“How are you feeling?” You gave the crown of his head an affectionate tap, and you might’ve sworn it echoed around in his empty mind.

“Nn…” he slurred something incoherent, ending it with ditzy giggle. “You…s’good.”

Fondness made you break out into a smile. You unwrapped your limbs from around him just long enough to help adjust his position, nudging him around so he could fall fully into you, chest to chest. You suppressed a shiver as you felt the fluid that coated his skin begin to seep through your shirt. But neither of you had it in you to care about the mess, not when Felix was still barely floating on the edge of awareness and you were too preoccupied with bringing him back down to earth. He nuzzled into your neck with another fit of giggles, wrapping his arms and legs around you in a grip that was surprisingly tight given how far-gone he was.

“Did it. I did it,” he mumbled through his laughter, airy and uncontrollable, shaking his shoulders with delight. “You touch me so good. Make me feel s’ good.”

You hummed, half-amused, half-endeared as you rested your hand on the back of his head to draw him closer to you. “Cause you deserve it, baby. A good boy like you deserves to feel so good.”

His puffs of laughter faded into a sweet sigh when you pressed a kiss to his hair. It eased your mind a bit that he was at least grounded enough to mirror the action, puckering his lips against the skin of your neck, warm and wet with drool that he tried feebly to suck back into his mouth.

“S’good,” he repeated. His voice was drowsy, sounding mere seconds away from drifting off completely. But even the exhaustion creeping up on his senses couldn’t block out the words that always came.

“Love you.”

lino (pegging, edging, slight feminization)

Minho’s cry was like music to your ears, honey voice tinged with a frustrated rasp as you halted your movements yet again, just seconds away from finally sending him over the edge. His body barely processed the sudden loss of stimulation, cock twitching eagerly against his stomach, like it was expecting to be granted release any moment now.

But it never came. Just another few pitiful drops of precum dripping from his swollen head, forming a sticky puddle on his skin. It delighted you just as much as it drove him crazy.

“A-ah, again?” he whimpered. His hands grasped at the bedsheets in a fit of distress, clawing for purchase to try and press his body further down against your strap. “No, no, no. Why?”

You cooed, watching with an amused smile as he began to grind his hips in an unsteady rhythm, thick thighs squeezing around you, desperate to cling to the remnants of pleasure that were quickly escaping him.

“Putting in work, Lino? Maybe I should keep this up.”

“Not fair, ‘s not fair.” He gave a shaky roll of his body with the hopes of gaining some kind of friction, but it only resulted in another helpless grunt when he couldn’t hit his sweet spot properly. “I didn’t do anything. Why are you being so mean?”

“Quit whining.” You gripped his rocking hips, digging your fingers into his soft flesh to pin him to the mattress. “I just can’t get enough of you, right? So obsessed with my baby that I wanna fuck him for as long as I can.”

The excuse was sickeningly sweet, and even with Minho’s head in a haze, he could hear your taunt in it; throwing his own words back at him. He’d only been teasing you when he’d said them. It wasn’t fair.

“Then don’ stop anymore,” he slurred. “Make me cum over ‘n over, just…j-just lemme…”

He trailed off with another miserable whine, shutting himself up just in time to suppress the plea was building on his tongue. The corners of his lips curled into an irresistible pout as he squirmed restlessly under your hands, aching for even the slightest bit of movement on your part to keep him from losing his last shred of sanity.

“Oh, baby. We both know you couldn’t handle that,” you frowned down at him, a perfect mockery of the pout he was shooting you. Bit by bit, agonizingly slow, you began to pull out, feeling his stomach expand under your palms as he sucked in a sharp breath. “You haven’t even cum once and you can barely speak.”

He hated how the glide of your hips immediately proved your point, fizzling out any response that he scrambled to muster up. Even more than that, he hated how ready he was to accept it. He didn’t want to talk back anymore. It was too hard, too much work. All he wanted was to feel that delicious stretch again, over and over, to be filled to the brim with you. All he wanted was you.

Once you’d eased out so he was left twitching around nothing but the tip of your strap, you surged forward, burrowing back into him all at once. Minho’s whole body jolted, back arching and a gasp tearing from his lips. He was grateful you couldn’t feel just how desperately he was clenching around you, walls tightening around your strap to bask in every inch of it pressed against him.

“It’ll feel even better this way, okay? Promise. All you have to do is lie there and look pretty for me.”

You repeated the action, dragging your hips back leisurely, just enough to earn an impatient whine, then pushing in all the way to the hilt with even more force than before. His eyes shot open as you pressed against his weakest spot, locking on you with a stare so deep, so hungry, that you nearly faltered. He raised his trembling thighs little by little, hooking them properly around your waist to pull you in deeper.

“You—ah—you think ‘m pretty?” he managed a grin. It was lazy, lopsided, the look of someone who knew the answer full well, but still needed to hear it. You’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t make your heart skip a beat.

“Mm.” You brought a hand to his face, brushing his damp bangs out of his eyes, giving you a full view of just how glazed with desire they’d become. “Pretty enough to put up with.” You moved down his cheeks, trailing over the flushed skin with a care that contrasted your quickening thrusts. “Pretty enough to fuck you so good, even when you don’t deserve it.”

Your fingers rubbed over his glossy lips, tracing their shape, swiping up the saliva that had dribbled out when he spoke. You were surprised he even had any words left in him. By now, he’d usually know nothing but the one he dreaded most, spilling out of him after all the stubbornness had effectively been fucked out of his system. Denying him just a few times was all it took to get him babbling it over and over, apologizing for what he’d done and demanding in the sweetest voice for you to stop being so mean and just give it to him already. Please, please, please.

But Minho was right. Today, he hadn’t done anything wrong, certainly nothing to warrant being edged more times than his foggy mind could count. It was just fun for you to watch him fall apart. His patience had crumbled long ago, and his pride was following suit.

“Gimme, then. Wanna—hah—wanna feel good already,” he demanded weakly. “You think ‘m prettiest like that, right? I know you wanna see me c-cum.”

You gave an especially hard rock of your hips, making Minho’s mouth fall wide open, head tilting back to sink into the pillows. His eyes fluttered shut again when you pushed two of your fingers into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue. He sighed softly, a sound of pure relief, plush lips wrapping around the digits instantly and coating them with hot saliva.

“I think you’re prettiest like this,” you murmured. “With your fussy mouth full, taking whatever I give you like a good boy.”

Good boy. It made him shiver. Something he so rarely heard you call him; he couldn't deny how much he craved it, even when he did everything in his power to convince you otherwise. He didn't want to act like a good boy, but he wanted to be treated like one.

Matching the pace of your rocking hips, you began to pump your fingers in and out of his mouth. They glided along his slick tongue and grazed against his bunny teeth, earning a cute, muffled mewl each time you pushed all the way in, right down to your knuckles. The look on Minho’s face was one of pure bliss as he drooled around them, the kind of look you only saw his delicate features form when he was completely full of you, both in body and mind.

“There we go. So much cuter when you’ve got nothing to say,” you purred. “Keep sucking like that, and maybe I’ll give you what you want so bad.”

You adjusted the angle of your hips to snap forward deliberately sharper, brushing the tip of your strap against his prostate and making his stomach twist with pleasure. All at once, that familiar ache made its presence known again. If the way Minho all but sank his teeth into your flesh wasn’t enough to warn you that he was getting close, his choked moan surely was. It rumbled against your fingers, coating them with a fresh layer of spit that sent a chill up your spine.

His hands grasped at the bedsheets in a death grip, veins protruding up his forearms, ankles locking behind you to keep his shaky legs in place. Instead of continuing to pull all the way out of him, you alternated to more shallow thrusts, repeatedly grinding against his sweet spot with barely a moment for him to recover between each jolt of electricity it sent through his senses. You teased his tongue rhythmically with the pads of your fingers, admiring the sinful sight to your heart’s content when his eyes were too busy squeezing shut to glare up at you.

Minho clamped down around you suddenly, so tight that it took extra effort for you to pull out even a little bit. A garbled noise rose in his throat, and it took you a moment to realize that he was trying to say something. You dragged your fingers out of his mouth, much to his discontent, thick strings of drool connecting them to his lips.

“What is it, baby?”

He sucked in a deep breath, swallowing down all the saliva that had pooled in his mouth. “S-say it. Say it again.”

You pulled out inch by inch. “Hm?”

“Call me g’boy,” he whined. “Wan—mmph. Wanna hear you say it again.”

A mischievous smile tugged at your lips just as Minho’s eyes blinked open. You hesitated before indulging him, and that, coupled with your strap remaining motionless halfway inside him, had him writhing around frantically in no time.

“You gotta be a good boy for me to call you one, right? Say please, Lino.”

It was his turn to hesitate, eyebrows furrowing into a desperate scowl. He held back for a split-second too long, gasping pathetically as you rammed back against his prostate.

“Quick baby, before you get too dumb to speak anymore.”

“Ah, please,” he didn’t waste a moment this time before begging. The word was pure honey on his tongue, growing more desperate as you drew your hips back again. “Please, please. Call me g-good boy. Wan’ cum.”

With a hum of approval, you brought your hand, still slick with his spit, down to his cock. You surged back inside him just as you began rubbing your thumb around his head in rapid circles, smearing his precum around and making his brain go haywire.

“Cum for me like a good girl.”

Minho’s entire body went hot. He tensed up beneath you, legs stiffening around your waist, hands bunching the sheets with so much force that his nails dug into the mattress. White, searing pleasure overtook him, rippling through his nerve-endings straight to his cock. It pulsed in your hand, shooting out a stream of fluid that was far more powerful than either of you were used to. Your noise of surprise was completely drowned out by the broken cry he released, sweet voice shaking with every shock of pleasure that passed through him, spraying more fluid all over your skin and his.

You admired each spurt that spilled past your fingers, tilting his length so that his release splashed against his heaving stomach. Minho seemed to notice, vaguely, that something was very much off about the extremity of his climax and the way it was thoroughly drenching his body with some unfamiliar substance. But his jaw had gone slack, unable to get out anything but moan after pitiful moan. He couldn’t even find it in him to open his eyes and process what was going on.

Finally, the last few drops of liquid dribbled from his slit, trickling down his length as it fell limp against his tummy. He was left trembling in the aftershocks, mouth still hanging open, like he’d forgotten how to close it.

You waited until his panting died down into more peaceful breaths, and then you spoke.

“Minho,” you whispered, running your hands gently up his drenched sides. He shuddered under your touch as you pulled out of him, still hypersensitive from the orgasm that had just rocked him to his very core. “Are you okay?”

He could only grunt in response, a reluctant, flustered sound in the back of his throat. Tentatively, you unlatched his spent thighs from around you and rested them against the mattress to allow him to relax his muscles. The cool, wet sensation spreading in the sheets beneath him made his skin burn impossibly hotter, and he turned his head to the side, giving you a clear view of his red ears.

“Talk to me, baby, can you do that?”

Minho softened a bit as your hand came to brush over his flushed cheek, just below where his long lashes rested. Still, the shame consuming his mind was nowhere near ebbing—shame from his embarrassing lack of control over his own body, and on top of that, shame that he’d loved every bit of it. He kept his eyes stubbornly sealed shut and his head turned away, not trusting himself to look at you without crumbling instantly.

“M fine,” he mumbled. Quiet, demure, nothing like the filthy sounds that had been spilling from his mouth minutes ago. “Just…”

“Shy?”

He hesitated, then nodded into the pillow, slick thighs rubbing together over the mere memory of what had just happened.

“You're simpler than I thought,” you teased. “Is that all it takes for you to listen? Just gotta tell you to do it like a good girl?”

A low groan escaped him, and you might’ve thought it was purely out of annoyance if it weren’t for the way his cock twitched at the words all over again. “Seriously,” his voice rose into a dramatic whine. “What are you doing to me? 'M all messed up.”

You shushed his fussing with a drag of your index finger along his lower lip. Before he could take it between his teeth like you knew he would, you used it to take hold of his chin instead, tilting his face carefully back into view.

"What's the problem?" you murmured. “You're prettiest like this.”

#my eye was twitching so bad trying to keep these short…i think i kinda failed haha but i hope u enjoy~#sub!skz #skz smut #sub!chan #sub!felix #sub!minho #bang chan smut #lee felix smut #lee know smut #ask

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urhoneycombwitch · 4 months

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honey, I’m home

🍯 honey flavour: Xmas fluff and smut drabble

🐝 the beebees: linecook!Eddie x reader

wc: 2.5k

Content warnings: soft dom Eddie, smut, oral (f receiving), reader has fem anatomy, gratuitous use of the nickname ‘princess’, Christmas fluff

foreword: so many delish linecook!Eddie ideas out there I’m throwing my hat into the ring. holiday edition. i wrote this while hiding in my room from relatives lol. my first time w/longer-form on tumblr like this send help I’m scared!!!!

Linecook!Eddie working a long shift at the diner ‘cuz he picked up shitty Christmas Eve hours to be with you all day Christmas, which he swore was worth it despite your earlier protests.

You’ve got some of the Gang over at the trailer helping you wrap presents; everyone’s hands are busy with mugs of cocoa and Scotch tape and too-long ribbons.

Robin and Steve are squabbling over a prized tube of wrapping paper on the couch, Max and El are stretched out on the floor stringing popcorn garlands, and you’re overseeing Dustin’s attempts at bow-tying on the coffee table when Eddie walks in.

And he’s scuffing his boots on the mat, shaking snow from his hair, sidling up to you when you stand to greet him and pressing his face into your neck. You squeak at his cold nose and you can feel him smile against your skin as he hugs you tighter.

“Are you gonna keep making out with your girlfriend or are you gonna help us?” Dustin grouses, irritable from all the energy he’s expended on the bows that just don’t look quite right.

You move to pull away, feeling a lil chastised (by a teenager, no less) but Eddie slips his strong arm around your waist, locking you in place, not bothering to break eye contact with you as he says resolutely, “I’m gonna keep making out with my girlfriend.”

He plants one on you right in front of everyone and although your first instinct is to feel embarrassed it’s quickly drowned out by the desire to keep kissing him, because my god can that boy kiss. And he does. With gusto. Ringed hands on either side of your face, thumbs stroking the apples of your cheeks.

There are girlish giggles coming from the pair on the floor; Dustin’s grumbling about needing bleach for his eyes, Steve calls out something about you and Eddie getting a room.

Without missing a beat or taking his lips from yours, Eddie lifts a hand from your face to flip the boy on the couch off. When he finally does pull back, it’s just enough to ask, quietly, as if you’re the only people in the room- “You have dinner yet, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, his one hand still resting on your cheek, a little out of breath- “No, uh, nope. We were waitin’ for you, thought we’d order pizza, or…”

You trail off. He looks downright fucking beautiful, in the soft, glowy Christmas lighting, white work tanktop peeking out from his black and blue flannel, glint of silver chains at his neck. You haven’t seen him since early this morning, when he’d pressed a kiss to your half-awake head and left for work. Now he was here, smelling like woodsmoke and maple syrup and looking at you with those doey eyes and all you want to do is press kisses against his adam’s apple until he melts under you and why oh why had you invited people over again…?

“I’m going to make my beautiful girlfriend here something to eat. Would any of you miscreants care for some grub?” Eddie finally turns his attention to your group of friends, who all claim hunger in equal measure, and you follow him into the kitchen.

You watch as he starts assembling a variety of mixing bowls and utensils on the counter, whistling as he goes; you hug your arms against yourself, dragging a sock foot against the tile.

“I can help,” you offer as Eddie kneels beside you to produce a waffle iron from the cabinet by your legs. “I can stir things, or make sides, o-or…”

Eddie’s warm palm is sliding up the back of your calf, causing you to stutter. He nuzzles his nose against your plaid pajama-covered thigh, briefly, like he can’t help it, before standing back up.

“With these hands?” He teases gently, setting the waffle maker down and pulling your hand to his lips. “Nah. Gotta keep my girl soft.”

You let him kiss the back of your hand and you rotate it in his grasp, palm-up now, his lips pressing against the center there, and you try again to get him to let you help, because he just worked a 12-hour shift and you know he must be bone-tired by now.

With your voice barely above a whisper- “I could… get the plates out…”

One final kiss to your palm, and then he’s looking at you with such fondness, calloused thumb tapping where his lips just were. “Does breakfast for dinner strike your fancy, good lady?”

When you nod, he says with affectionate sternness, “Good. Now go sit pretty in the living room and get out of my kitchen.”

So you obey, cozying up to Robin on the couch to help her with the last few presents amid the bickering still taking place between her and Steve. Nat King Cole serenades from the tinny radio speakers above the clattering in the kitchen, and Dustin’s mood improves drastically once El offers to show him the ropes of popcorn stringing, half-tied bows abandoned at the coffee table.

You look up periodically from your tape sticking to check on Eddie- at some point, he’d put his hair in a low bun and tied his flannel around his hips, the heat of the kitchen causing his bangs to go limp. He’s in good spirits despite the sleepiness you know he’s fighting, humming along to the radio while he coaxes perfectly golden waffles from the iron and onto the Charlie Brown-themed plates you two had bought at the thrift store for fifty cents apiece last summer.

He sweeps into the living room with plates of steaming food balanced on his forearms, his stability impeccable and arms deceptively strong from years of hefting shit around in the kitchen. Obviously, you’re the first to get your plate, dropped off with a little kiss to the crown of your head, but no one’s complaining this time around because they’re too busy chewing.

Eddie’s personalized each order, of course- extra syrup to satiate El’s sweet tooth, blueberries baked into Steve’s stack, a side of peanut butter for Robin paired with a thick handled-butterknife.

Eleven looks up from where she sits cross-legged beside Max and says in a voice that leaves no room for disagreement, “You are the best cook in Hawkins.”

Eddie beams at her around a mouthful of waffle, knocking his shoulder into yours lightly- “You hear that, honey? Supergirl-approved chef at your service.”

Sticky plates get scraped clean and pushed aside, a rosy fullness lulling everyone into easy conversation about various holiday plans happening tomorrow. Eddie’s settled into your side on the couch, sliding his hand back and forth absently across your thigh, and you can tell by the vacant stare he’s giving the far wall that he’s running on fumes (though he’d never admit it in front of anyone but you, all too happy to give and give until there’s nothing left).

So you make the call for the both of you, giving a dramatic stretch and yawn- “All right, gang, I’m beat. Let’s call it for tonight and pick back up on Christmas?”

There’s a bustle of activity for the next few minutes; you and Steve hunt down everyone’s winter gear, getting the kids back into their gloves and warm hats while Robin helps Eddie with the dishes. In a flurry of see-you-tomorrows and calls for safe driving, Eddie pulls the front door shut and snicks the top lock closed.

“Finally,” he groans, and you can’t hold back the laugh that bubbles from you with the speed at which he has you caged against the wall, trailing a line of kisses down your throat, his sleepy state seemingly abandoned for a much hornier one.

“Somethin’ funny?” he muses, before sucking at the spot where your shoulder and neck join, your laugh catching and rolling into a gasp instead.

“Didn’t think so,” Eddie chuckles, darkly, against the hollow of your throat, adding a scrape of teeth over the bruise that’s sure to bloom. “You gonna be a good girl and let me have dessert?”

Your brain is already going fuzzy as he bullies his hands underneath your shirt, cold rings sending shivers across your body as they slide against your lower back, the plush curve of your hip, dipping down down down.

“Don’t you wanna-” your voice comes out shaking, interrupted by another gasp as Eddie’s hands find the bare meat of your ass and he squeezes, bordering that fine line between too harsh and too good that he knows you love- “-shower, or clean up a bit? I can run you a bath-”

Eddie slips his denim-clad thigh between yours, and fuck the presure is just right as he helps your core roll over his knee with his solid grip.

“I think…” he purrs low against the shell of your ear, grinning when your breath gets all shallow and quick, “you should come on my fingers like I’ve been dreamin’ about all day. And then we’ll talk about cleaning up.”

He makes a compelling argument. Resigned, you let your head thunk back against the wall as he sinks to his knees, pulling your pants down your legs as he goes.

You’ve soaked through your underwear at this point, which might’ve been embarrassing except for the fact that Eddie’s told you before how much it gets him going, evident now by the outline of his hard cock straining against his jeans.

“All for me, princess?” he murmurs, face so close to your clothed core that you can feel his breath.

He gets like this sometimes, downright reverent, and you know any attempt you make to hide from him will just wind him up more, so you fight that instinct to balk as he parts your thighs with tender, worshipful hands, and instead whisper “Yeah, Eds. All for you.”

He hums in approval, nosing at the front of your panties, hooking his long, deft fingers into the sides of them before tugging them down your thighs and tossing them aside.

“There she is,” he croons, as if it’s just him and your pussy now. “Don’t cry for me, baby, I’m here now, gonna take care of you…”

You jolt forward into his grasp as he slides his middle finger against your sticky folds, your hands seeking purchase and ending up in the soft curls at the top of his head that didn’t make it to the bun at the nape of his neck.

“All day, I work over a hot griddle,” Eddie mutters as he hooks your knee over his shoulder. “I make shit wages and shittier tips,” he continues, monologuing, the smug son of a bitch, his breath fanning over your now-exposed core, one hand coming up to rest on the softness of your stomach, pinning you in place right where he wants you- “And you know what makes it all worth it, baby?”

He pauses just before his mouth makes contact with your pussy, flicking his gaze up to you to assess the damage he’s done so far, his pupils blown wide with lust, nearly eclipsing the soft brown of his irises. You’re panting now, in little fits and gasps, doing your best to be gentle with the weaved grasp you have on his hair.

“You,” he says, before closing the gap and sucking your clit into his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, back arching off the wall, seizing at his hair and unconsciously tugging his mouth tighter against you.

Eddie hums again, the vibrations sparking more pleasure against your throbbing clit. You could probably come from this stimulation alone but Eddie isn’t wasting any time, hungry for you to fall apart for him as he works one of his dextrous fingers into your dripping core.

You cry out wordlessly as he finds that spot with the pad of his finger, stroking against it, purling his tongue around your clit in tandem with the thrust of his hands, adding another finger as you clench around him.

He’s only been at it for a few minutes but you’re already dangerously close to the edge, lust burning and twisting in your stomach, your body shuddering in his hold.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he’s saying into the juncture of your thigh, pleading- with you or your cunt, hard to say- as his hand on your stomach slips down, using the thumb of that hand to press your clit against your pubic bone, a filthy slick grind that has you whimpering expletives.

“Fuck, Eddie, fu-uck…”

One of your legs is still over his shoulder, thighs spasming with your impending orgasm, and from your higher vantage point you watch as Eddie’s hand that isn’t busy between your legs drops from the outside of your thigh to his own lap.

He grinds shamelessly into the heel of his hand, rutting his clothed cock into his palm, chasing his own high as he adds another finger into your clenching core, setting a brutal pace that matches the speed at which he’s moving against himself.

It’s this picture- Eddie, on his knees, mouth on your clit, touching himself- that is your undoing. Your orgasm is blinding, crashing through you like a wave, curling the top half of your body around Eddie’s head as you cradle his skull against your core.

By the sound of it, Eddie’s coming, too, moans buried into your cunt as he wrings out the last of your orgasm, the squelch of your walls cinched taut around his fingers.

You have to physically push his head away with the tips of your fingers to get him to ease up- you know he could easily go another two, three rounds before being satisfied but your limbs are going weak and trembly and you want him close, that rush of endorphins leaving you hazy.

And Eddie knows, instantly, ‘cuz he always does, so good at reading you. He lets your leg slip from his shoulder and stands to kiss you, the tangy taste of you on his lips.

“You’re so hot,” he says, thunking his foreheard against yours, holding you close. “I meant what I said, y’know- think about you all day. Gotta take trips to the walk-in freezer just to stop the boners.”

He looks overly pleased when you laugh, giddily, and soothes his hands up and down your bare arms.

“You gonna shower with me? Didn’t even getta see the girls,” he laments, dropping his gaze to the front of your shirt, rucked-up from his wandering hands but still very much on.

“Anything for you, chef,” you indulge, giggling again as Eddie gives a kiss each to the tops of your breasts.

_____________________

if you’re reading this PLEASE know my anons/requests are open I am in desperate need of more ST mutuals!!!

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #stranger things smut #linecook!eddie Munson #linecook!eddie

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d3arapril · 6 months

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modern!ellie headcanons

my take on modern ellie. why? cos i love her 🙄 pls enjoy! feedback appreciated as alwayssss~ <3

✧ warnings: brief we3d mention but other than that, none! just ellie being ellie. safe for all audiences!

ellie was quite reserved when u first met and now ur dating she can still shut down sometimes but she's working on it

she's quiet if she doesn't know u...if ur close... ur gonna wish u weren't

literally NEVER shuts up sometimes?? she can be like one of those wind up toys and chatter on and on for HOURS if she's in the right mood

knows random facts about the most obscure things

"babe did u know that there are more than 60,000 tree species on earth??" *silence* "uhhh.... thanks el?"

CHRONICALLY ONLINE!!! knows every meme under the sun, would still use xD un-ironically if u didn't bully her for it

her tiktok screentime is probably like 7 hours a day bc she could spend endless hours just laying in bed scrolling, u get home from work/school and she's sent u 30 messages. u watch every single one <3

she's fairly active on instagram but doesn't really care about followers etc... just posts random photos whenever she feels like it and has several photo dumps dedicated to her fav pics of u. has a highlight called ‘❤️’ with pics of u

would comment on other ppls tiktoks but not post her own vids.. she’s a bit of a troll sometimes LOL

bites her nails/fingers all the time til they bleed... it's a habit

u got her the nail polish that tastes nasty to try and help her reduce the amount she bites her nails but she just started enjoying the taste of it 😐

"i thought this was supposed to taste bad???" she'd ask u with a thumb shoved in her mouth

so obviously gets bitches but is so oblivious to her surroundings and doesn't notice people ogling at her whenever you're walking around together

however if people are looking at u?? its on sight

gets very jealous very easily and has a mad short temper. lowkey toxic sometimes

will wear an 'i love my girlfriend' t-shirt without even being asked because..she loves u..duh?

leaves u notes all around ur home... u open the fridge and she's written on the empty carton of milk that she left in the fridge :/

'i love u ps were out of milk :('

wears flannels/hoodies, vests/plain tshirts and baggy jeans (maybe skinny jeans if she’s feeling crazy. u tell her she’s outdated) with converse every day. 'lesbian uniform' she calls it...

carabiner queen but doesn't actually have any keys attached to it, just keychains... her fav is the spiderman one she won at the arcade. also has a fidget cube attached. Locked And Loaded

tobey maguire is her favourite spiderman :) closely followed by andrew garfield. she says she’d probably have a crush on him if she liked boys. also loves wanda.. obviously

listens to old 2016 rap.. fetty wap has been in her top 5 spotify artists for the past 2 years

also listens to deftones (her fav songs are teenager and cherry waves btw)

uses wired earphones still because she can’t let go.. they’re busted and chewed up to hell but somehow are still going strong

i’m a strong believer that ellie would LOVE watching berleezy and quotes his videos ALL THE TIME. it's "..and bricked.... hello!" whenever she sees u looking nice (which is all the time to her)

knows all the fnaf lore (somehow?? shes never even played it)

super light sleeper, always tossing and turning and she's actually fallen out of bed several times bc she gets so ridiculously restless

always sleeps in until she only has around 15 mins left to get ready. is somehow rarely late

she has no skincare routine but has perfect skin 🙄 just washes her face with some random cheap face wash she found on sale and moisturises when she remembers. she also doesn’t use conditioner bc she ‘doesn’t believe in it’ but has soft hair? tf

always staring at u? she frowns a lot but when she looks at u her entire face softens and she has that lil half smile that she doesn’t even realise she’s doing

u guys have an intricate secret handshake that she practised in her own time so she could get it right

her journal is full of sketches of u, poems about u… girl is so in love sometimes it scares her a lil

made a scrapbook for ur birthday full of everything she’s kept from everywhere u have been together, she even kept the stickers from ur starbucks drinks and stuck them in there <3

wrote a lil song for u and waited until ur bday to sing it to u for the first time… she got so embarrassed straight after so she just hid under the covers

big ol stoner! if u dont like weed she won’t smoke when she’s with u but if u also smoke/don’t mind she’ll loooove to smoke w u. gave u her fav grinder as a token of her love

tried to make special brownies but u both burnt them to a crisp 😔 el tries so hard to be optimistic (for once) “it’s fine babe we can just eat it anyway” “ellie it’s literally crumbling when u touch it…”

tried to stick n poke herself several times but couldn’t commit so she just has unfinished pieces on her upper thighs

loves head scratches and pants like a dog when u scratch the right spot

is this emoji 🧍🏼‍♀️ frequently

that’s all folks (for now……) …. i love her

#ahhhh shes silly goofy and unstable. i love her #ellie #my writing #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams headcanons #tlou headcanons #tlou fic #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #ellie williams smut #sorryyy tagging this again #only way 2 get stuff seen :(#ellie tlou

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waggledoogledoggle · 2 months

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SOMEONE GIMME MULTI-LINGUAL JED AND OCTAVIUS PLEASE

I NEED IT.

JED AT THE VERY LEAST KNOWS SPANISH AND ENGLISH IF NOT ALSO MANDARIN BECAUSE OF THE RAILROAD. LIKE, Y’ALL, HE CANONICALLY ON SOME LEVEL ACTUALLY KNOWS SPANISH

“No comprendo, amigo!” HE SHOUTS THAT AT THE AUGUSTUS BUST. IS THE ACCENT SHIT? YES. BUT IM CHALKING THAT UP TO ACTORS CHOICE CAUSE GUESS WHAT. HE CONJUGATED IT FUCKIN CORRECTLY.

GIMME JED SPEAKING IN ENGLISH COMPLETELY NORMAL BUT THEN HIS BRAIN DECIDES TO FORGET THE WORD IN ENGLISH SO HE JUST STOPS FOR A MOMENT AND STARES AT NOTHING, SO HE JUST SAYS IT IN SPANISH AND OCTAVIUS JUST STARES AT HIM LIKE ‘…tf?’ BUT THEN THEY GO TO CARRY ON THE CONVERSATION AND LIKE HALF A BEAT LATER JED JUST SHOUTS THE WORD IN ENGLISH CAUSE HE REMEMBERS IT NOW. LIKE:

“I mean, I ain’t ever seen such a mess! Hell we even had to get a new… uh…”

“…”

“Jedediah?”

“…mesa…”

“…mesa?”

“I… can’t remember it in English right now… but I’m sure it’ll come back to me… uhm, anyways, yeah we had to get a new one of those, which sucks cause it was the only good one in that tavern! I ain’t ever seen such a brawl, I mean- TABLE!”

“Jupiter- Jedediah what the fu-”

“That’s the word! Table! Alright, we’re good now, as I was sayin-”

AND OCTAVIUS? DUDE IS A FUCKIN ROMAN GENERAL, SO NOT ONLY DOES HE KNOW LATIN, BUT HE IS ALSO LIKELY FLUENT IN GREEK. SO ENGLISH IS HIS FUCKIN THIRD LANGUAGE

SO YOUR TELLING ME, THERE HAS NEVER BEEN ONE SINGLE MOMENT IN BOTH CANON CONTENT AND NON-CANON CONTENT WHERE OCTAVIUS FORGETS THE WORD IN ENGLISH SO HE COMES UP WITH SOME BATSHIT CRAZY SOUNDING DESCRIPTION OR MAKES A SOUND EFFECT AND JED JUST HAS TO TRY TO FUCKIN GUESS WHAT HE MEANS.

“Hey Octy, did ya see where lil’ Ted went?”

“Yeah he went on the- the um- the horse tornado.”

“…what?”

“You know, the horse tornado.”

“…do you mean the ‘Carousel’?”

“That’s the word! Yes, the Carousel, yes.”

“He went on the… Jed how you say *makes helicopter noises*”

“…oh! Helicopter.”

“Yes! That.”

AND I WANT IT TO GET TO THE POINT WHERE JED STARTS GETTING IT FIRST TRY NO HESITATION WHILE EVERYONE ELSE IS LIKE “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK DID I JUST WITNESS, HOW DID YOU GET ‘PEN’ FROM HIM SAYING ‘BLEEDING INK STICK’”

And even better. I want Jed learning Latin for Octavius once he finds out English is his third language. Because if Octavius learned his first language, then he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do the same for Octavius.

I BEG OF THEE, PLEASE

(Edit: yes I know that Jedediah Strong Smith irl knew some/the basics of Latin lmao, what I meant by 'learn Latin' was work to become fluent in it like how Octavius is fluent in English, my bad for not explaining more clearly lol)

#jedtavius #jedediah and octavius #natm jedtavius #natm jedediah #natm octavius #natm headcanons #natm

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7thewise · 2 years

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I think we can safely assume that everything is intentional in st again and that everything has a purpose

#byler #im back to thinking byler is endgame #like 98% sure #I still have a lil doubt #but after Noah confirmed all that #I’m a strong believer again 😭😭😭#anyways gn byler nation #i’ll be back to ramble about byler tomorrow lol #its ALL i’ll be talking about for the foreseeable future lmao #ramblings

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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months

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(y/n) being there for Shoko when no one else is even after her boyfriend Gojo got sealed

Pairing: Shoko x bestie!reader; Gojo x girlfriend!reader

Word Count: 1k

Synopsis: Shibuya brings even a strong and collected woman like Shoko down to her knees. Especially when you, the only person who seems to truly care about her, ask her about her well-being when your boyfriend just got sealed....

Warnings: bestie - energy incoming, I know I said I'm not able to write hurt anymore, but I feel sooo sorry for my girl Shoko and she's so underrated, that's why she definetely deserves her own fic okay😭 also added Satoru and even more hurt to this lol, just a cute lil micro fic so don't expect that much of a plot line

„I thought you quit smoking some time ago.”

“What the hell is your lazy ass doing here? Aren’t you supposed to die on the battlefield like everyone else?”

“Huh, seems like I didn’t get that message.”

Your sly grin paired with the sheer amount of crimson that covers your frame makes Shoko’s blood freeze in her veins in an instant.

“Why didn’t you come earlier, idiot? Can’t you see that you’re about to die?”

“I’m not dying when you are around, babe.”

You lean against the mirror of the abandoned public toilet you and Shoko are in, watching in silence as she puts out her cigarette in the marble of the expensive looking sink behind you.

What a hell of a day. No, what a hell of a life. You came here with no real plan, just following after Satoru to get him going. Well, you definitely didn’t expect your boyfriend to get sealed in front of your very own eyes. Just like you didn’t expect to find the corpses of Kento Nanami and your student Nobara Kugisaki, laying in pieces on the cold ground of this cursed train station. Fuck, not even you were enough to protect them, not even the infamous girlfriend of Satoru Gojo was enough to stop this fucking madness.

“You look like shit”, Shoko comments dryly, her eyes fixed on the multiple wounds that special grade curse inflicted on you in his beach sphere.

“Just like you. When was the last time you’ve slept, Ieiri?”

It should scare her, the fact that she can’t put a finger on a single night this month. Since Geto and Haibara left, she always remained in the shadows of the friendship that used to exist when times seemed to be easier. Not even you were able to fix that. You, who came like a ray of sunshine in her life. You, the girlfriend of Satoru since being in your first year. You, the only person who seems to really care about her. No, not even the fact that you survived this hell is enough to get over the fact how many people died that night.

“I don’t know”, Shoko finally mumbles.

Why the hell do her eyes start to water, slowly but surely taking her sight? She’s been through some shit since being a jujutsu sorcerer, never belonging anywhere due to the fact that her reversed technique is too important to get risked. People come and go, countless lives ended on the table of her office, even the one of her lover. But this night…

Nanami and Nobara’s deaths, Megumi and Ino almost losing their lives, all the others she hasn’t heard a single word from since they left a few hours ago, her oldest friend sealed until who knows when.

And then there’s you, sitting in front of her severely injured, barely able to make it to her. You are here.

And it seems like you are everything that’s left.

“Hey, don’t you dare to cry. Or I…”

The big lump forming in your throat stops you from speaking any further. God, how much you hate the concept of crying, how useless shedding some tears is. But at this moment, with the dark circles underneath your best friend’s eyes in front of your sight, with the singing fact that you might not be able to ever see your boyfriend again, you begin to crumble.

“Fuck, you can’t believe how glad I am you’re here, Shoko.”

There you sit, staring into each other’s glossy eyes while your hand grabs hers roughly.

“How are you feeling?”, you breathe out.

“I feel like shit, (y/n). I feel like all I do is sitting in the dark while everyone around me dies. I feel so fucking lonely and useless”, she blurts out, her head sinking into your lap with her hands holding onto your uniform for dear life.

The girl who always looked so cool, the girl with enough sass for whole Jujutsu High. Even though you were constantly able to tell because of the numbness in her orbs, you never thought that she feels this bad. Your best friend, the person you spent most of the time with aside from Satoru.

Satoru, Shoko…You feel like dying from the inside, tears now running down your very own cheeks like a waterfall.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save them. Not Kento, not Nobara, not Suguru. Fuck, I wasn’t even able to protect my own boyfriend…I-I…I wasn’t even able to say goodbye”, you cry out.

“B-but…I have you, right? After all, you’re my bestie for life…”

Her bloody eyes dart towards you, a weak smile forming itself on her lips.

“Don’t you dare to cry about that white-haired idiot. Do you really think he lets himself get sealed and just stays in there? He’s just as annoying as you are, (y/n).”

You huff while shaking your head, a little giggle escaping your lips.

“And yes, you have me. I’ll always have your back.”

“And I’ve got yours”, you reply in an instant.

“You’ll never be alone, Shoko. I’d rather crawl back to you like the biggest idiot than leaving you alone in this hell. It’s somehow better with two, isn’t it?”

Shoko lifts herself off your lap, wiping her tears away in the most unlady-like manner you’ve ever seen. All these years, she always felt alone in a room full of people, always out of place even though being told over and over just how important she is. But you…you see so much more in her than just a useful tool. No, you look at her as a friend, you look at her with true curiosity in your eyes, like you care about her well-being.

You’re standing by her side no matter what.

“I hate to admit it, but somehow you right I guess.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez

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xxacademy · 1 year

Note

So I have this thing in my head - if maybe you can do headcannon or drabble. If you want/ ( whichever you want - your good at it all!) Where Leon's SO is at the hospital after being pretty much banged up on a mission ( with BOWS / both are working the same department) and I mean - near death experience lol. But a /between Re6 and Vendetta Leon/ and they have been dating for a long time now. I know very specific, but I have this in my noggin. If you're not into it, no matter - keep up all your work. I love it !

thank you for the kind words 🫶 i’m actually writing a full length fic for this because i LOVE this prompt. buuuuuut, for now a little drabble/hc because it’s gonna take me a lil while to finish that fic- i’ve already got like 2k words down for it though hahaha <33 consider this a companion piece for what’s to come.

hurt/comfort & fluff

leon kennedy x gender neutral reader

leon is calm under pressure, extraordinarily so. so when he gets the call that you were in the ICU, being rushed into emergency surgery he didn’t panic.

he thinks first and deals with the emotions later.

he details in his mind how to get to you- what hospital are you in, does he need to bring anything for you?

you’re out of the state- so he has to fly to you. because of his connections working for the united state’s government- he’s able to get an emergency plane ticket right away.

he has a few hours to kill, so he impatiently circles your shared home, thinking what could he bring for you.

he doesn’t allow his mind to think if your gonna make it out alive. only when you make it out.

he can only assume your clothing is tattered and bloodied, probably cut off of you.

he packs you some clothes, and some of your favorite things. like the little stuffed bear he bought you for your birthday.

on the plane he sits restlessly- checking the time over and over. you’re the only thing on his mind, he wishes he could hold your hand and tell you everything is going to be all right. he wonders if you’re scared. he hates that you’re alone.

upon landing he takes a cab to the hospital, he hands the driver a $100 bill and tells him to make it quick.

leon waits in the lobby of the emergency room, the blast of anxiety finally hitting him. the stifled cries of pain from other people waiting to be seen are overwhelming to him.

it’s when leon gets to see you that his emotions catch up to him. his sense of calm finally cracking the moment he sees you hooked up to machines in a hospital bed.

his blue eyes glassy from the tears welling up.

he kneels by your bedside- stroking your arm down to your hand. resting his head on the bed, watching you sleep.

he tucks the stuffed animal under your other arm- hoping to comfort you when you awake.

he talks to you even though you’re asleep, “i love you, you’re so strong- you got this, dear.”

please, please, please make it for me. i won’t let you leave me this way.

he attentively watches everything they do to you, every test that is ran and every medication that is administered.

leon gives you his unwavering support. wishing he can take the pain away. protect you from all harm. make life easier for you.

he knows your a fighter. hell, you wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for your determined nature. but that in no way helps his urge to protect you.

when you wake up, you smile. a smile of warmth, full of surprise.

“leon? you’re here? how?”

“shhshh take it easy honey, im here- you’re here. that’s all that matters.” ♡

…

i wrote a fic inspired by this little blurb- check it out if you enjoyed this one!! -> tender

#academy drabbles 🫧#academy headcannons ☁️#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy fluff #hurt/comfort #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x gn!reader

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seduzist · 4 months

Note

hiii, merry late Christmas!

this is random anon and I’m back😋

katniss eating reader out? or reader eating katniss out? like a lil blurb or some hcs I don’t mind

SKIP IF UR UNCOMFORTABLE 🫶🏼

merry late christmas anon!! 💓

i took some of this from the book lol

“gonna stay quiet for me, y/n?” she murmured, smiling at the way you nodded with your head so willing, begging w/ your eyes for her.

her mouth found it’s way back to your center, her tongue stimulating your sensitive clit in slow circle movements and your tried to close your legs unconsciously on her head, but katniss’s grip was strong enough to keep your thighs in place.

she hummed against your pussy, so wet, it was like you was waiting for this, but how could you? if the day isn’t even started yet, if you were sleeping ten minutes ago before katniss wake you up with kisses, her hands roaming your body while you tried to fully woke up.

but she couldn’t help herself, how could she? you tasted divine. with everything she’s been through before the games, katniss always thought she was a type of specialist in being hungry, but what she felt w/ you was a different type of hunger, a type that used to come from a little lower than her belly, a type that she couldn’t try to make it go away by thinking of anything else or chewing leafs of mint, it couldn’t go away with just a little taste of you, like a kiss, no, it only made her want more and more.

you cover your mouth with your hand, self conscious that you would make noise if you didn’t, probably disturbing her mom and sister who were sleeping peacefully in their rooms, while the sun started to rise.

katniss tongue entered you and your eyes rolled back, she knew exactly what to do to drive you crazy, to make you cum, you two had more than enough nights together for her to know everything about your pleasure and so did you with hers.

“god, i could taste you all day.” she said against you, more to herself than for you.

#katniss everdeen x you #katniss x you #katniss everdeen x reader #katniss x reader #katniss everdeen smut #katniss everdeen fanfiction #the hunger games katniss #katniss everdeen #thg katniss #x fem!reader #the hunger games #fem!reader #maddy’s thoughts

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

Text

a little taste | jjk

the one with the stress-relieving lollipop.

[ ‘ a little taste ’ series masterpost ]

pairing: jungkook x f!reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genre/warnings: established relationship, basically pwp!, but a lil fluffy i guess, oral seggs (m. receiving), face fooking, 0.1 second of dirty talk?, what else what else hmmmm oH it's unedited as heck lol

word count: 1.6k

note: nobody look at me after i post smut please i'm just gonna leave this here and dip ⛷ but fr time flies wtf?? it took me almost a year to post the second part of this series what have i been doing lmao. buuuuuuut yeah yk this series is for the horndawgs sOoOoOo have fun lol

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

You could tell that something was wrong the minute Jungkook walked through the door.

From the way the door was shut a little too harshly, the sound of his keys hitting the ceramic bowl in your entryway a little too loudly. The way he came up from behind as you were cooking but his arms held you a little too tightly, like he just needed you to ground him.

He was off all throughout dinner, trying (and failing) to come up with proper responses to your attempts at making conversation.

Even now, as you snuggle up against him on the couch, you can feel the tension radiating off him. He presses absentminded kisses into your hair every now and then, but his arm around you is stiff, his jaw is perpetually clenched, his breathing a little too even like he’s trying to control it. At this point, you’re pretty sure that neither of you is really watching the TV.

“Alright, that’s it,” you say, pushing yourself away from his body to get a good look at his face. “Out with it, what’s wrong?”

Jungkook peers at you, clearly having been broken out of his train of thought. He exhales once, then pulls you back into his side. This time, he keeps you there.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says, fingers drumming rigidly on your hips. “Just had a shitty day at work. Don’t worry about it.”

You frown slightly, trying to wiggle out of his grip but his strong arm pins you to his body. He squeezes your hips, as if telling you to hold still.

“Wanna talk about it?” you ask.

“No,” he answers, voice somewhat strained. You know he’s just simmering in there, thoughts racing, anxiety spiking.

He tends to keep things to himself because he doesn’t want to bother you with his troubles. But he’s your partner, that’s what he’s supposed to do - talk to you, let it out, work together.

When you huff out a breath, he placates you with, “Maybe in the morning.”

You’re not entirely pleased that he’s shutting you out, but this is just how he is. There’s not much you can do; Jungkook isn’t a talk-about-your-feelings kind of person. Once you remind yourself that he’ll open up when he wants to, you press a comforting kiss to his jaw in response, and he hums in appreciation.

You stay like that for a while, with the TV serving as background noise. You slip your hand under his shirt to trace odd patterns on his abs, like you often do whenever you’re cuddled up against him like this.

It’s innocent, until he does the same to you.

You’re sure he doesn’t mean to start anything, but when his fingers touch your bare skin, you have an instant lightbulb moment.

He kneads your skin like you’re a human stress ball, then loosens his grip when he remembers that you’re not.

Your hand stills on his abdomen. Lightbulb, for sure.

“Want me to make you feel better?” you ask, peeking up at him through your lashes with faux innocence.

Jungkook glances down at you, suspicious. “How?”

“Well…” Your fingers pick up where they left off, tracing his abs for a moment before they trail downward to toy with the waistband of his sweatpants. “You know how.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but his legs unconsciously (or not) spread a little wider. “I’m not even hard,” he says, even as he sinks further into the cushions of the couch, getting into position.

“I think I can fix that,” you mumble, inching closer to his face until your mouths meet. You feel him melting into the kiss, letting you take over him instead of the stress. When his tongue slips into your mouth, your hand palms him through the material of both his sweats and boxers. He rolls his hips against your hand, seeking friction as he gives you a muffled groan. You can still faintly taste the beer he had earlier after dinner. You don’t even like beer, but you love Jungkook.

“Fuck.” He throws his head back, eyes closed, bottom lip held hostage by his teeth. You lean closer to his neck, press a few kisses to the skin you find there while your hand rubs him until he hardens.

It doesn’t take very long before he grows bigger and heavier under your fingers. “Fine,” he rasps out, urging down to the carpeted floor on your knees. “I suppose you may suck my dick.”

You give him a particularly hard squeeze just for that, making him choke on a breath. “You’re not cute,” you say. He only gives you a grin in response before he lifts up his hips to help you shimmy his trousers and boxer down. He doesn’t even bother taking them off properly, just lets them pool around his ankles while he waits for you. His cock stands tall and proud, desperately begging to be touched. All because of you. All for you.

You spit into your hand, then wrap your fingers around him, slowly pumping him until precum leaks from his tip. His hips buck into your grip, silently demanding more. Impatiently, he weaves his fingers into your hair and gently guides your head to where he needs you the most.

“Y/N, c’mon, do something,” Jungkook groans, brows knitted together as he looks down at you. “Isn’t this supposed to be about me?”

“You’re right,” you say with a chuckle. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

You give the tip of his cock a kiss to emphasize your apology before you take him into your mouth, sinking down on him on your first go until he hits the back of your throat. The airy, needy moan that he lets out sounds nothing less than heavenly to your ears. If he doesn’t want to talk about his troubles, then this might as well be the next best thing.

You pull back after holding him there for a few seconds, only to start bobbing up and down his length that’s now slick with your spit, drawing continuous moans from his mouth. It boosts your ego a bit, knowing how good you’re making this gorgeous man feel.

“God, fuck,” Jungkook drawls, as his hand in your hand tightens. “Baby, can I?”

You try to give him a nod as best as you can, what with his cock shoved into your mouth like this. You look up to find him already gazing at you with that fucked out look on his face. He holds your head still, then slowly bucks his hips into your mouth experimentally so you don’t choke on it.

Although, he does want you to choke on it.

Maybe you kinda want to choke on it too.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” he says, voice rough with desire. He’s always so attractive like this, when he sounds like he wants nothing more than to completely ruin you, absolutely delectable yet somehow, still your wonderfully caring Jungkook. Your core clenches painfully around nothing as he thrusts into your mouth, not breaking eye contact even once.

You feel tears pricking every time his cock nudges its way down your throat, until your eyes are all glassy and eventually your cheeks are stained with two clear lines streaming down.

Profanities tumble from his mouth clumsily, breathlessly, that you don’t catch most of what he’s saying.

“Baby,” he keens, and that’s when you notice that his lashes are wet too. Something swells within your chest that’s akin to pride. You could laugh if you weren’t so… preoccupied. Leave it to the both of you to cry during a blowjob.

At one point, it does get a little too much, right when he was almost there. You could tell from the way his stomach clenches and his balls tighten, his teeth digging into his bottom lip in concentration. You have to hold onto his wrist and tap his bare thigh so he could ease up on you. He untangles his fingers from your hair instantly, mumbling an apology while he catches his breath. You pull away from him to inhale deeply and let your throat relax for a minute, but your hand reaches for his length again while your mouth is temporarily out of commission.

He continues to shallowly thrust into your hand as you jerk him off, determined to make him fall right over the edge of pure bliss. Even when he’s about 0.5 second away from blowing his load, Jungkook is still mindful of you. He reaches down to wipe the tears from your face, a touch which you immediately lean into gratefully.

“Fuck, I-I’m gonna come,” he grunts out when you gather more spit from your mouth to add onto his already slickened cock, making it even messier, but easier for you amp up your speed.

“Where do you want it?” you ask, thoroughly enjoying the pleasure etched on his face and the sounds you’re pulling from you.

“M-mouth,” he manages to say. “In your mouth, please.”

At that, you wrap your lips around him again. As your fingers move up and down his length, alternating between fast pumps and harder squeezes, you suck on just the tip like he’s your own Jungkook-flavored lollipop. You hum in appreciation at the taste, eager for what he has to give you.

Your name falls from his lips over and over again, like a mantra, like a cry, until he’s painting your mouth with warmth, overwhelming your tastebuds with your favorite flavor of him. You keep up with your movements until you’re sure that you’ve milked every single drop from him. When you release him from your mouth, he grabs your face and kisses you deeply. He moans, muffled against you, when he finds the residual taste of himself on your tongue.

“Love you,” you tell him, bumping your nose against his.. “Feel better now?”

“Much better,” he says, albeit a little hoarsely after the… vocal training he just received. He grins at you lazily, clearly spent and visibly more relaxed than before. “Love you too, my dream girl.”

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