#and they were some of the days where i wrote the most

[arlertwhore]

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: you’re jealous and paige blows your back out to remind you she loves you.

warning (s): literally the nastiest thing I’ve wrote — smut, strap, pussy eating, choking, squirting, cervix play, dacryphilia, public stuff a little, nipple sucking, degrading, humping, drunk sex, Paige literally destroys you.

word count: 3k.

author note: been havin some terrible writers block so might be last post for a lil while — unedited, this sex is just so raw nd nasty I’m sorry bro I cannot pls read at own risk

You found yourself at the draft afterparty, separated from Paige, your girlfriend, but you hardly noticed as you knocked back drinks one after another. Time slipped away as you chatted with your two closest friends, Mrs. Griffin and Mrs. Arnold, jokingly referring to yourselves as future NBA wives, with you as Mrs. Bueckers in jest.

As the drinks flowed, tensions rose. You were on your fourth shot in fifteen minutes when Aubrey's girlfriend remarked, "You know, I understand why you're so possessive, girl. If I were dating Paige, I'd be on edge too. She's quite the ladies-man." In your interpretation, her comment suggested that if she were in your shoes dating Paige, she wouldn't let Paige out of her sight. You had full trust in your girlfriend, without a doubt, but it was other girls you didn't trust. Knowing Paige's attractiveness and the constant flirtation she encountered throughout her life, you understood she might not always notice when a bitch wanted to fuck, leaving an opportunity for other girls to take advantage of the situation. Spurred on by the alcohol, you staggered to your feet and clumsily balanced on the chair you had just vacated. "Where is she?" you slurred.

"Over there," Aubrey's girlfriend pointed.

You spun back around, irritation evident on your face. "Oh, hell no," you spat, contemplating. "Should I go? Imma go!"

"Don't do it, girl!" your friends called out, but it was too late. Determined, you marched over to Paige, who was seated on the couch beside another girl, chatting and laughing, the girl's hand casually resting on her shoulder as she spoke.

There was absolutely no reason for her hand to be on your girlfriend. You were gonna crash-out.

"Paigeyyy!" you exclaimed, drawing most eyes in the party to you. "What... are you... doingg, babe?"

Paige smiled at you and exchanged words with the girl beside her, pointing in your direction. However, as you approached, her smile faltered, turning forced. You hovered over your girlfriend's form, pouting down at her. "Fix your face," she murmured softly as her hands found yours, holding them tightly. Your eyes darted towards the company Paige was keeping, silently hoping that after her subtle request to fix your expression went unheeded, she'd catch the hint as you focused on the source of your discomfort. "O-uhh, babe, this is Holly. She's my high school coach's daughter," Paige explained.

You smirked, subtly digging at her. "You're breaking a cardinal rule, Paige. Didn't they say the coach's daughter was off-limits?"

Holly's response hit a nerve, even more so if you were sober. "Well, that was back in the day," she said, still grinning politely.

You smiled, amplifying yours to mimic hers as you sat down. Not in-between them, however. You swiftly settled into Paige's lap, feeling her hands involuntarily wrapping around your waist, since she was still holding your hands before you sat. "So it's changed now, Holly? You're one for bending the rules?" you pressed. "When a boundary isn't visible, breaking it becomes effortless," she smoothly retorted, a subtle dig that undoubtedly rankled you, adding fuel to the fire of your annoyance. "Well, Holly, I'm right fucking here," you asserted firmly, the intensity of your words conveying both defiance and a challenge to her audacious remark. "Safe you made it in time. It was like I had a ticking time bomb, just waiting to explode," Holly remarked, subtly implying that any further delay might have jeopardized your relationship.

Before you could speak, Paige intervened, diffusing the tension as she spoke up, "So, guys. Who can forget that buzzer-beater from last year's championship?" As Holly began to yap, you couldn't help but stir in Paige's lap. Your girlfriend always looked majestic, but especially now, under the spell of alcohol. You rocked your hips forward, feeling the stirrings of arousal. You were now horny. And while tipsy and horny, if there was one thing you didn't care to respect was the conversation. So, while Paige was mid-sentence, you turned and began to make out with her, your desire overriding any concern for the topic at hand. Paige kissed back at first, but with your chest pressed against her, she couldn't resist allowing a hand to brush against it, stroking your hardened nipples in the process. When she noticed your arousal, she pulled away slightly and whispered sensually, "We'll continue this later," before unashamedly turning back to Holly, seamlessly returning to the conversation.

Later? You were a wreck. If somebody who wasn't already in the loop with all the others had been at the party, they'd surely be filming this, and you'd be looking insane. Your drunken antics drew a bemused smile from Paige as you pressed your lips to her jaw while she tried to speak, your warm breath giving her chills. She gently tried to steer your body away, to steady your hips, but you had other plans.

It was as if you had forgotten you weren't in the privacy of your own home as your hand moved to your own chest, intending to let your tits spill from your top before Paige stopped you, concealing your intent with a quick, "Wardrobe malfunction?"

At her words, you remembered she had lips, and kissed them before whispering, "Want them off," into her ear, "Want your mouth on them." Her mouth watered as her fingers helped you fix said wardrobe malfunction, giving her an excuse to marvel at your hardened nipples through your dress, begging to be sucked. With a playful glint in her eye, Paige allowed herself to be swept away by the moment, ghosting her hands over them and eliciting a hushed whine from your lips. Reveling in the sensation of your bodies pressing together, the allure of the party gradually faded. Soon, she found herself leading you home, your fingers intertwined as you stumbled through the door, eager to continue the intimacy in the privacy of your own space. Once inside, the air crackled with electricity as Paige pulled you close, her lips finding yours in a heated kiss. Your hands roamed eagerly over each other's bodies, seeking out every inch of exposed skin with fervent desire. "You know, I'm starting to hate Holly," you muttered against Paige's lips, jealousy prominent in your tone.

Paige leaned in, pleased, as she whispered, "Well, jealousy looks sexy on you, babe." Clothes were discarded in a frenzy of lust, and Paige found herself above you on the bed with her lips trailing a path of wet kisses down your neck and chest. With tender care, she teased your hardened nipples, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from your lips.

Her hand trailed lower, down the curve of your stomach, before finally finding its destination between your thighs. With gentle strokes, she teased your clit, reveling in the slick wetness that greeted her touch. She brought her fingers to her lips, sucking them clean with a sinful groan before plunging them back into your eager cunt.

Deftly, Paige slipped a finger inside you, marveling at the way you clenched around her in response. But she wasn't content to simply watch from the sidelines. Leaning down, she captured your lips in a searing kiss, her tongue dancing with yours as she devoured you whole.

With hunger in her actions, touch, and eyes, she descended lower, trailing kisses along your thighs before finally finding her destination. With a flick of her tongue, she tasted your essence, savoring the sweet nectar that flowed from your core. With each stroke of her tongue, she brought you closer to the edge, her fingers working in perfect harmony to push you over. "More?" she asked, her voice breathy and gravelly, and you nodded eagerly from above her. "Please," you whispered, breaths catching in your throat. She smirked up at you. "Fuck, you're a slut." she moaned, pupils dilated as she arched her back, pressing her mouth flush against your pussy, closer, for a more precise to-the-clit angle. When you nod, "I am, mommy," you watch hazily as she indulges in you, her tongue tracing a slow, tantalizing path from your clit down to your folds repetitively. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Your body trembling with pleasure, Paige knew that she had finally proven herself to you. She was the only one who could satisfy your deepest desires. She wanted to be the only one. For her to eat you like this, so unapologetically, it'd stole all those seeds of doubt from your mind that Holly had planted. "Wanna eat this pussy every day," she speaks tightly against your pussy, so deep in your folds, and your eyebrows furrow at the slight pinch of her teeth against your clit. But she swiftly distracts you by recycling the saliva and wetness on her lips, spitting onto you, further soaking your already dripping cunt. The feeling of being soaked, then getting lapped up like a dog drinking water, was making your head spin. You grabbed your tits, squeezing them like your own personal stress balls, and the sight caused Paige to moan. "Play with them like that, ma, fuck." she groaned, her fingers pumping into you ridiculously nice, the perfect tempo to match her tongue work.

Your toes curled. "M' gonna—"

She nodded like, "I know," and watched as your body writhed, surrendering to the pleasure.

"Fuck, Paige, please don't stop. You're amazing, oh shit," you moaned.

She didn't. Not for a second did she quit eating you like her life depended on it, and you cried out in pleasure until the moment you released all over her face and fingers, painting her in your cum. Your stomach contracted as she kept fucking her fingers inside you, pushing it all out. Not even a second later, she had turned you over on your stomach and whispered in your ear, "Looks like I need to show you your place again, don't I?" It might have been the alcohol in your system, but you swore you had never been this horny for anything or anybody before. There you were, sprawled out on Paige's bed, your legs spread apart with her in between them, to your utter dismay, the blonde doing absolutely nothing. You felt like you were about to burst as you nodded your head vigorously, turning back over to give her your puppy eyes. "Want it, baby," you whispered urgently.

She pressed herself flush into your body, her tongue eagerly exploring your wet lips, probing its way into your mouth as you whimpered desperately. Allowing you to speak, her tongue trailed up your neck, to your breasts, and as she sucked your tits gently, you whined. "Wanted this all night." "Please..." you pleaded, voice thick with need, "Please, Paige, don't make me wait any longer," begging for what you knew was merely inches away from your pussy, tucked away. Her finger, previously servicing you, found its way into your mouth, and she pushed the long digit into the warmth repeatedly, teasingly fucking your throat as you eagerly sucked and moaned around it, savoring the taste of your own arousal. It was so hard not to give in when you looked this way—just so fucked out and slutty, when nothing had even really happened yet. Breaking face, she pressed her lips against yours, and your tongues danced together in a manner that made you think Paige was genuinely trying to receive and keep your taste, eat you alive. By each passing moment, your bodies found themselves closer than before, deepening the connection between you involuntarily.

It was half-intimate and half-raw, and it felt all the way good. Way too good. When you finally felt the thick, hard piece of plastic against your pussy, you sighed into the kiss, tilting your head back as Paige began to grind it against you. Her hand, previously holding your thigh and pressing you into the mattress, trailed down your body with deliberate intent, settling at your hip. You tried to squirm away from the feeling below you both, but she effortlessly held you there, a showcase of her immense strength that only turned you on even harder. She continued to rut her hips against you relentlessly, dragging the member up and down repeatedly with slow, sharp thrusts of her talented hips. She groaned, the dildo on the other end vibrating, squeezing and fucking sequencly against her wet, warm, tight walls. "Feel that?" she murmured, her voice husky with desire. "You like it when I fuck you like this, don't you?" It was all euphoria—you were too spent to reply, but you managed to murmur, "Inside," Paige held the base of it with her hand, groaning your name as she watched your pussy slowly swallow it all in with her piercing blue eyes. "Look how that just stretched you out, ma, feel it," she moaned, pumping into you so hard your entire body rocked, and causing the dildo to slide past her G-spot precisely, coaxing a throaty breath from her.

All you wanted was to please her. It meant good for you in the end. She was in awe watching your incredibly tight cunt be stretched that wide, so you complied, reaching your hand down and feeling it with shaky hands. "Fuck," you gasped, "So big, baby, god." She smirked down at you. "Play with your clit, baby, let me watch you." and like a puppet, your hand falls to between your legs, rubbing yourself hastily. You're still sensitive from your last orgasm, but you keep going, the deepness of Paige's cock feeling like a punch and stab to your guts each time she plows down. But the pressure inside you and the one you delicately place upon your clit feel so, so good that despite the overcapacity, you find your other hand coming to her back, then to her ass, squeezing it as you plead, "Don't stop!" You're crying now, tears staining your cheeks, and all it takes is for Paige to really look at your face, seeing how hard you're working for her right now before the tension begins to mount. She tries to hold out, but everywhere she tries to look makes it worse. Her head dips low to avoid your face, and you're sluttily playing with your clit. At your mid-section, your tits are bouncing in her face. And she knows if she looks at you one more time, it's over. Her body falters, and she lays on you as she fucks into you so carefree of anything in the world. You cry out whinily as you feel her deeper, the tip placing kisses to your cervix, and her weight on your lower stomach pressing the bulge the strap makes DEEP.

"So good," you whimpered, clenching around her with each drag of her stroke against the depths of your body. "Take me, Paige, take all of me."

She loses it at that, growling out, "Open your mouth, sexy," and you stick your tongue out to meet a hot, thick glob of spit into it.

Without needing to be told, you swallow, knowing it's what she wants. Her impending orgasm is evident as she speaks, her voice filled with urgency. "Fuck, bae, I'm gonna cum. You gonna—" she waivers with a grunt, then continues, "you gonna let me cum in you?"

Your arousal allows her to penetrate you insanely deep, even though she shouldn't be able to on a regular, non-drunk sex having day. "Yeah," you moan, your body ablaze with desire, "fill me up."

The room falls silent, save for the embarrassing squelching sounds of your cunt. The sounds your pussy makes are just embarrassing. Like pure water being swished, and you grip her dick so tightly it burns momentarily when her stroke falters back, but it meets your guts again within no time, and all feels way too good again. Your pussy's grip on her tightens, your body craving every thrust she delivers. Paige's hand tightens around your neck, restricting your airflow as she fucks the life out of you. She is genuinely killing you. Stabs inside your cunt, hand around your neck, toned body weighing down on you — petite below her. She's relentless, her motions driving the familiar knot in your stomach to form, but this time, with a little something different about it that you just can't place your finger on. You want to be concerned on why your pre-orgasm phase feels this way, but with each thrust, you can't help but surrender further into the pleasure, neverminding it.

As your climax approaches, you're overwhelmed. Your eyes shut tightly, your world consumed by white light. When you feel it coming, you want to scream, but you can't. Before you know it, your body is involuntarily pushing, and pushing, and when the intensity stops, blending into an orgasm, you realize you've just squirted all over Paige.

She's realized long before you, apparently, because she's left cumming herself with moans and exclamations of, "Aw, fuck, baby, look at that."

You guys have no time to tell each other you're cumming; it's just wet, hot, and heavy, both of your releases coating the sheets and the both of you too. Paige collapses on you, and now you really can't breathe, so you have to use your remaining energy the squirt took to push her off, the strap exiting you with the most empty feeling ever. Your hand, still on your clit, feels all the cum, and you exhale sharply, shocked. Both of your bodies are drenched, covered in sweat.

And as you catch your breath, Paige rolls onto her side, looking at you with a mix of satisfaction and tenderness in her eyes. "Is that attitude gone?" she asks, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

You meet her gaze, a mischievous glint in your eye. "If I say no, will you fuck me like that again?" you retort, a hint of a smirk playing on your lips.

Paige chuckles, reaching out to pull you close to her. "Guess you'll just have to find out," she replies, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss.

When you guys draw back, you're panting as you confess, "I can't believe I just... squirted."

Paige raises an eyebrow, offended. "I can. You doubtin' me?"

You've essentially been fucked back into sobriety and know not to test her. "Absolutely not," you assure her, and she relaxes at that. "You're gonna be hella sore tomorrow morning," she teases, "I literally went swimming in that pussy, deadass."

You smack her gently. "Stoppp," you protest.

She grins. "Ion feel bad tho. Maybe next time you get an attitude, you'll think about how dumb I just fucked you." And Paige Bueckers is absolutely fucking right. You will. Attitude or not.

MASTERLIST

A/N: might be some errors in posting and stuff!! i'll correct it later i'm rly tired now lol.

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[mauvecherie-writes]

“hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

warnings: none.

note: a good ole’ surprise fic that I wrote in a couple of hours since his video is now a viral TikTok sound 😂. support the page any way you can girlies 😘 like, comment and reblog. this was supposed to be less than a thousand words 🫠.

w.c: 1.2K

It has been two and a half hours since you arrived at the event.

For some reason, the promotors really wanted you to come so they went out of their way of booking you a flight from your city to Sacramento and booking you a very suite at the Kimpton Sawyer Hotel. They had even offered to hire you a private driver but even, a woman who often didn’t say no to free things, declined the offer.

Instead, you had messaged some of your friends who were in the local area who had informed you that they were attending the event so you joined them. The event was a pretty successful one for the community. Celebrities and influencers alike would come from near and far to attend because of the safe environment it had cultured due to their strict rules. The event was a space for lovers and to find lovers, consent was heavily promoted and had security constantly surveying the space and the biggest thing you loved when the flyer was sent to you was the insistence to use your phone less and just be present in the moment.

The event, SweetOne, was working to bring back the clubbing culture of the old days with their own modern twist to it. An event where egos were left at the door and people met each other on a human level to connect. You were enticed by that (the $13,000 check for your promotion to your 8.9 million audience and appearance for the night was also a little push.)

So here you were, engrossed within the atmosphere as your body swayed to Body Party by Ciara as your friends cheered you on. The liquor had sunk deep into your veins and you were really letting loose for the first time in a long time. Your sultry black and gold mini halter dress sat on your curves, adding onto the sensuality of your impromptu performance. The bangs of your curled silk press fell over your eyes like a curtain as you sang along to the erotic lyrics.

“Woooo! You go girl!” Your friend, Nikki cheered you on as she recorded you. You turned around and held onto the bars that had been a supporting act to your dance. With your hands on either side of you, your hips swayed side to side.

“My body is calling you.” You sang as your eyes opened and by chance, met the ones that had been tracking your movements all night. Behind the brim of his cup, he was intently watching you with a dark glint in his eyes that amused you.

Your glossed lips curled into a smirk as you turned away from the handsome man and then you brought your performance to a close with your friends shouting for an encore.

“Next performance comes with a charge.” You winked at them as you stepped away from the edge of the section.

When you sat down, you couldn’t shake the vision of him watching you. He was a sight, himself. Chocolate brown skin with dark freckles scattered across his cheeks, a neatly trimmed anchor style beard sitting on the sharpest jawline you’d ever seen with your own eyes. It was too dim to see his haircut but you knew that his hair was short. You were also digging the way that was dressed. The light grey sweater snuggly fit around his long torso, highlighting his muscles.

The thing that captured your attention the most were his naturally pink tainted lips, that he seemed to lick very often. God, you were smitten and you had not shared one word with the man.

“Excuse me?” Your attention was called out of your thoughts and you snapped up to meet the eye contact of a server.

“Yes?” You enquired.

“The gentleman from across the room bought you this drink as a thank you for the performance.” The server said. Your cheeks warmly flushed before you scanned the room and met his eyes yet again. He slightly nodded his head and gave you a slight wink. You turned back to the server with a smile.

“Can you go back to the gentleman and tell him I’ll humbly accept his thanks if he brings the drink himself.”

The server smiled, nodded and then left. You eyeballed them as they walked across the room and back to him. They spoke, he bent down to get closer to hear the server speak. He was tall … even more interesting.

Then, he took the drink from the tray and began walking towards where you were. You took a deep breath as his height became more apparent.

“Hi.” The richness of his deep voice vibrated through you and settled in the pit of your stomach. You were fucked - you were a sucker for a good voice.

“Hi.” You breathlessly smiled up at him as you crossed your legs, putting your carved legs on display to his ravenous eyes.

“You said you wouldn’t accept this drink unless I brought it myself.”

“Mhm.” You nodded your head as you held eye contact, hoping to not let your attraction seep into your actions. “We’ve been tip-toeing around each other for most of the night. Someone had to make a move.”

He grinned and his white teeth shone at you. “I’m a little disheartened that it had to be you to make a move but I like your boldness. I like it a lot.”

“So, sit with me then.” You scooted a bit to the side, opening a space beside yourself. He placed the drink on the table in front of you and then sat down. That’s when you truly took in the beauty of this man. From his full yet neat eyebrows, his tapered sides and most importantly, just how pink his lips were up close.

“That was quite the performance you put.” He commented. And despite the shyness threatening to grip your senses, you rolled your eyes - downplaying the intention of your actions.

“It was nothing. I was just feeling the music that’s all.” You shrugged your shoulders as you reached for the drink he had purchased for you - a French 75.

“Your sentence seems to imply that you could do more than what you gave right now.” His eyebrow inquisitively raised up.

“Well, we’d need to at least be exclusive for that kind of performance.” You boldly stated as your body turned with your legs leaning towards his body. He let out a one syllable laugh as his head fell backwards. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. The length of his neck would be perfect beneath your fingers …

“So how do we get to that stage then?” He brought his head forward and turned to face you.

“Well, you can start by telling me your name.” He brought his hand forward, outreached for you to shake.

“Hi, I’m Keith. Nice to meet you.” You took his hand into yours and you couldn’t help but notice the difference and a shiver ran down your spine.

“Nice to meet you Keith. I’m YN.” You replied as you gazed upon his face. As he met your stare, the dark glint of desire was back with a touch of promise for more in them …

And your body and mind would be readily accepting of that.

————————————

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @samiwzx @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @perfecttrashface

#mauvecherie writes #hi nice to meet you one shot #keith powers x black reader #keith powers x black!reader #keith powers x reader #keith powers x you #keith powers fanfiction #keith powers fanfic #keith powers imagine #keith powers one shot #keith powers

[weirdkpopgirl]

Back Scratches pt. 2 | Dream Headcanon #14

Headcanon: Back Scratches

Genre: Fluff, slight angst in some of them

Warnings: might be mildly suggestive in Mark's and Haechan's? mention of anxiety in Jisung's

Word Count: ~2.4k

Author's Note: Okay, I know I've already written something about this which was actually the first headcanon I wrote for 7Dream on here. It was also one of the firsts requests I received. But I wanted to write an improved version of it, and I really do find the idea cute. So I hope you guys enjoy this and thank you for reading ^ ^

~ ~ ~

mark 

Back scratches with Mark were initially quite amusing, mainly because he’s not used to asking for help. The first time you noticed his struggle was when you glanced up from your book after hearing his grunts of frustration as he tried in vain to reach the middle of his back. His eyes met yours, and he laughed awkwardly. You then stood up from your couch to approach him from behind and scratch the exact spot he needed without saying a word. After that, Mark realized it was silly to be embarrassed about asking when you clearly didn’t mind.

From there, Mark grew to love having you scratch his back. Not just when he had an itch, but also after a long day of work. The feeling of your perfectly manicured nails running along his back, above the fabric of his shirt, really helped him unwind after hours of dance practice and recording sessions. When it came to these moments, you’d start with light, gentle strokes where your nails would barely graze his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. Gradually, you’d increase the pressure and use slow deliberate motions to trace soothing patterns across his back. You always paid more attention to the areas around his shoulder blades and the small of his back, knowing that was where the tension often built up the most.

Mark would close his eyes and lean into your touch, unable to stifle a groan as your fingertips moved in circular motions, working out the knots and easing his muscles. At first, the sounds Mark made during these back scratch sessions left you blushing, though he was completely oblivious to the effect he had on you. However, you soon became accustomed to the dramatic moans that came from your boyfriend regularly. Though you often rolled your eyes when he gave such reactions, you could never bring yourself to tease him. 

More often than not, Mark would talk to you as you scratched his back. And you’d listen quietly as he spoke about whatever was weighing on his mind. A smile was always brought to your lips when you’d hear his muffled voice due to his face being squished against the pillows. You often worried about him being such a workaholic, so you were especially happy that you could help him relax. For Mark, just you being with him meant so much more than you knew.

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renjun 

Back scratches with Renjun always leave you gushing about how adorable he is. He comes across as the type who prefers to handle things on his own. So if his back ever got itchy, he’d try to take care of it himself, even if you were in the same room. Especially if you were already doing something else, he wouldn’t want to bother you with what he perceived as a trivial matter. But similar to Mark, it was Renjun’s facial expressions of subtle frustration and determination that would often catch your attention as he struggled on his own.

However, you chose to wait until he was ready to give up and swallow his pride to ask for your assistance. The look of desperation in his eyes and the faint blush coloring his cheeks made you want to kick your feet in the air because of how cute he looked. Then when you turned him around to scratch the spot for him, he let out a huge, relieved sigh. The way he tilted his head back nearly made your heart burst with affection.

It was at that moment that Renjun discovered just how much he loved your touch. He would describe your back scratches as uniquely soothing, as the intricate patterns you traced along his spine made him shiver but also caused his shoulders to sink in relaxation. He’d marvel at how your touch seemed to melt away the stress of the day, bringing him this sense of tranquility. Each scratch became a silent conversation, a language of comfort and care that only you two shared.

So, he began to ask you to scratch his back more often. Not just because it relieved him of his physical discomfort, but because it offered a moment of solace in a hectic world. But he’d always make sure to check if you weren’t busy with anything before he asked, despite knowing the answer would always be yes. Renjun would cherish every instance when your hands danced across his back, feeling his love for you deepen with each tender touch.

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jeno 

Back scratches Jeno were just another excuse for him to be clingy with you. He might be a little shy the first time you offered to do it. But as your bond deepened, your back scratches became another form of physical intimacy that he cherished. Outwardly, he’d act all cool about it like, “Oh you want to scratch my back? Go ahead, I don’t mind.” But internally he’d be overwhelmed by this warm, fuzzy sensation. Each tender stroke of your fingers against his back left him not only feeling physically comforted but emotionally connected to you in a way that words couldn’t fully express.

Eventually, Jeno would stop hiding how much he loved when you scratched his back. It doesn’t matter if he found you engrossed in a K-drama playing on the television or preparing to retire for the night, he seized every opportunity to engulf you in a warm embrace, his eyes sparkling with anticipation as he cutely requested your touch. And every time, you’d forget about whatever you were doing before to lovingly give him what he wanted. The groan or heavy sigh that escaped him immediately afterward was definitely worth it.

His cuddle sessions with you became a regular occurrence, including back scratches. He’d happily be the small spoon in these moments, his arms wrapped around your waist snugly as your hand found its familiar place under his hoodie, letting your nails rake up and down his bare back. He’d also prefer you to scratch a little harder, just because he loves the feeling of your nails pressing against his skin. 

Besides, it comes in handy when an unexpected itch pops up on his back. He doesn’t even have to say anything, you just intuitively apply the perfect amount of pressure to make him hum in delight. You always blush when he squeezes you a little tighter and nuzzles his nose against your neck to show his appreciation. More often than not, this boy would drift off to sleep while you scratched his back, which you found to be so endearing. You’d gradually stop scratching and press a chaste kiss to his forehead, before also falling asleep in his arms.

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haechan 

Back scratches with Haechan became a demand after the first time you offered it. To him, scratching his itches was simply another one of your responsibilities as his girlfriend. Whenever you were trying to get some work done on your laptop or seemed preoccupied with your phone, he’d pester you nonstop with aegyo until you relented. Then he’d drag you to the bed and pull off his shirt, eagerly waiting for you to start. The moment your nails made contact with his warm skin, he’d let out a satisfied moan that made you blush profusely.

The first few times he had you scratch his back, you found his presumptuousness amusing, but it soon became a regular part of your routine. Haechan had a way of making even the simplest gestures feel special, and his playful attitude made it hard to say no. He’d dramatically sigh in relief as your fingers worked their magic, exaggerating his contentment just to make you smile.

Similar to Mark, you got used to your boyfriend’s antics. But you genuinely didn’t mind scratching his back, knowing how hard he worked. When he was really tired, he wouldn’t even say anything. He’d just curl up beside you on the bed and drape your arm over his back, silently asking for your touch. How could you say no with the subtle pout on his lips?

Despite his playful demands, there was this underlying sweetness in these moments. You could feel how much Haechan trusted you, as he’d lean into your touch with a vulnerability that he rarely showed. Each stroke of your fingers down his back was a reminder of the closeness you shared. Even though he acted like it was your duty most of the time, you both knew it was a cherished way for him to feel loved and cared for.

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jaemin 

Back scratches with Jaemin made you seriously wonder if he was secretly a cat disguised as a human. However, the first time you scratched his back was a little different. It was during a lazy at-home date when you noticed him trying to reach the same itch on his back throughout the day. While his struggle was endearing to watch, you couldn’t stand by for long. Eventually, you gestured for him to turn around, and with a gentle touch, you scraped your nails across the offending spot right between his shoulder blades. Instantly, Jaemin released a relieved sigh, and his knees almost buckled at the sensation of your touch.

After that day, Jaemin went to you whenever his back was itchy. Once the itch was gone, he’d calmly ask you to keep doing it because it felt good. So he’d be sitting at the edge of the couch, with you behind him as you scratched his back attentively. He loved it even more when you scratched under his shirt, relishing the feeling of your skin on his. Even if your hands were cold, he actually found the contrast to be surprisingly soothing. The coolness of your touch combined with the gentle pressure of your nails never failed to send shivers of pleasure down his spine, making him feel even more connected to you.

At some point, you swore you could hear him purring against your touch. The resemblance to his own cats was uncanny, which you found both hilarious and adorable. Just like his fluffy companions, he would lean into your touch, his eyes half-closed in pure contentment, a soft hum of pleasure escaping his lips. The endearing similarity never failed to make you smile, adding another layer of warmth to these intimate moments.

It was safe to say you loved giving Jaemin back scratches just as much as he loved receiving them. Sometimes you’d notice him stretching uncomfortably after long dance practices or intense workout sessions, so you’d offer to scratch his back before he even had a chance to ask. There was something incredibly rewarding about seeing the tension melt away from his body. While you took pleasure in providing this small comfort, you also appreciated these quiet moments of intimacy with him. Scratching his back was a simple act, yet it spoke volumes about the care and affection that you didn’t always express fully. 

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chenle 

Back scratches with Chenle were annoying at first. He would often come up to you, casually asking for a back scratch from you. Although you didn’t necessarily mind, the moment your fingers touched his skin, he would start squirming and wiggling because he was so ticklish. His constant moving made it nearly impossible for you to scratch his back properly. Although his giggles and yelps were cute, you felt like you were trying to tame a playful puppy.

This happened every time, and you’d try to leave out of frustration. But Chenle would always pull you into a back-hug and beg you to say. “No, don’t be mad! I swear, I won’t move this time!” He’d insist, but you knew all too well that he wouldn’t actually keep still. He couldn’t help being ticklish, which he often argued in his defense. So you had to figure out a way to scratch his back without him convulsing under your touch.

Eventually, you started focusing more on scratching his upper back, a less sensitive area where he wasn't as ticklish. You noticed an immediate change the first time you tried this. Chenle stopped squirming as much and began to relax under your touch. His laughter subsided into contented sighs, and he would lean into your scratches. He clearly enjoyed the sensation of you tracing circles around his shoulder blades, though he’d never admit it out loud.

Therefore, scratching his back became a much more pleasant experience for both of you. It started to become a routine for you two after he came back from playing basketball or to help him fall asleep. You firmly believed that your usually loud boyfriend was the cutest when he was peacefully asleep in your arms. While he could certainly be a handful at times with his playful antics and boundless energy, you knew he appreciated you. He'd often surprise you with little acts of kindness that showed how much he valued your presence in his life.

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jisung 

Back scratches with Jisung became his source of comfort whenever he felt anxious. You’d notice him pacing around the room, his tall frame hunched in worry as he muttered to himself. As someone who also tended to overthink, you probably understood Jisung better than anyone. Which motivated you even more to find a way to calm him down. Without a word, you’d guide him to sit somewhere and gently start scratching his back. Your touch seemed to ground him, the soothing motion helping to ease his restless mind.

As you worked your fingers up and down his back, applying just the right amount of pressure, you could feel the tension in him gradually melting away. When you thought he was feeling better, you’d start to pull away. However, Jisung would clutch onto your hand, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he looked up at you. “Can we stay like this a little longer, please?” His voice, though deep, carried a vulnerable edge, revealing just how much he needed your comforting presence.

So you’d continue, letting your fingers move gently along his spine. During this time, Jisung’s usually shyness was replaced by quiet contentment. He’d lean into your touch, his breathing evening out as the anxiety faded. Oftentimes, he’d share his innermost thoughts and you’d listen quietly until he was done. He didn’t expect you to respond with any solutions though, knowing that your support alone was enough. Still, you tried to provide words of reassurance, and he valued every effort. These tender moments made Jisung realize how deeply in love he was with you.

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previous masterlist -> current masterlist

#nct dream #nct dream imagines #nctzen #czennie #kpop #nct dream fluff #nct dream scenarios #nct #jaemin #jeno #mark #jisung #renjun #chenle #haechan #nct dream x reader #nct dream headcanons #7dream #7dream scenarios #7dream headcanons

[thisonehere]

First to Taste

Bi-Han x newlywed!reader

Tonight is your wedding night…but it isn’t your husband whom you’ll be spending the night with.

A/n: I promised you it and now here it is, the winner of one of my recent polls. Besides the one bed fic, this is probably one of the most smuttiest things I wrote in this blog since it's inception.

Tags: NSFW, Smut, MK1, MK AU, GN reader, MDNI

C/w: Cheating, wedding night sex, Loss of virginity, thigh riding, oral sex, slapping, swallowing, edging, you dickmatized

"Oh gods, not again." You sigh as you briskly wipe the newly forming tears from your eyes. It was just hours before the wedding ceremony and you were a mess. You couldn't stop yourself from drenching the clothes that took you weeks to pick out. How did you become such a mess?

You tried to stop, but how could you? Today was that very special day that you've been anxiously waiting for. Since you were a child you have been fantasizing about this day, the day where you would marry your childhood sweetheart and love of your life. You had been meticulously planning every last detail for months now, the floral arrangements, the dress codes, the catering.

You had wanted so much, you had thought it would be impossible to have it. But your husband was a member of the Lin Kuei, and they were very willing to help. Kuai and Tomas helped bring you any resources you might have need. Bi-Han on the other hand supplied the funding for everything.

The Grandmaster had been distant as of late, this is Bi-Han we're talking about so he's always distant, but he has been even more since you became engaged. It was if he was upset, whenever he was in the he'd see you two give a look of disgust and leave, you even heard how strongly he disapproved of your union.

You shame your head to try and shoo these thoughts from your head. Why should you bother to even think about Bi-Han or what he thinks right now? You're about to marry the man of your life, his thoughts are irrelevant. Yet it still poked at the back of your mind.

You remembered the look Bi-Han gave you when you first announced your union, he looked so hurt and betrayed. It affected you somehow, made you feel bad for some reason.

Once again you shake these thoughts from your head. As you did this, you eyes the clock and realized what time it was. Just a few seconds until the ceremony began. You quickly wiped the remaining tears from your face and assumed your position. 'Today was going to be perfect', you thought to yourself. 'Bi-Han will just have to deal with it' and just like that, the ceremony has begun.

----

Hours later, after everything was said and done, now it was time for the feast. And, must I say, it was a feast. You sat next to your new husband at a table separated from the rest. You watched everyone laugh and eat to their hearts content. Guests came to your table to congratulate your union and present gifts. Liu Kang himself even came by your table to congratulate you. He wore a. Ever charming and bright smile as he presents his gift as well as wishing your love to be one that lasts forever and ever. Your husband's eyes twinkled as he looked at you adoringly.

Kuai and Tomas buzzed as they made a roast, commenting that your groom was a lucky man. Making you blush a little. You husband played jealous and crossed his arms and pouted, causing you to let out a giggle.

Though you are enjoying yourself immensely, you can't help but feel a pair of eyes on you. You didn't even have to look to know who it was: Bi-Han. You look out of the corner of your eyes and as you expected he is sitting all the way at his table with his brother's. Though his brother attempted to interact with him, he had his eyes on you like. There was such fury in his eyes, yet it was somehow calm at the same time. He was eyeing you like a predator would their prey. You shift uncomfortably in your seat as you attempt to avoid his gaze. What was his problem? If he was so against your union why would he go through with it? You once again shake your head as you try to ignore him. You're having such an amazing time, why let him ruin it?

---

The days festivities carried late into the night, and you were growing more and more anxious as the hours passed. Because soon it would be time for you and your husband to retire to your personal chambers...to consummate the marriage. You were excited to do this, but you were anxious at the same time. You fooled around every now and then but you two never went all the way. You wanted to save yourself for marriage, this very moment.

An anxious thrill rush through body as you quickly rise to felt. Your husband looks at you curiously as you begin to leave. "Where are you going?" He asks. "Oh, I'm just going to get ready...for bed." You say with a wink. He shoots back a flirtatious grin as you leave.

You rush into your bedroom and dash into the bathroom. You stare at the mirror as you adjust and fix your appearance. You fix your hair, put on your best perfume, brush and brush your teeth so many time that you thought your teeth would fall off. When you are finally satisfied with your appearance, you return to your bed. As you settle down, you feel your heart racing in your chest. The entire had been a dream come true, now you just needed tonight to go well to make everything perfect. You to shoo the fear from your head, you never did sex before, you did some "studying" but you never engaged in it before.

What if you do something wrong and hurt him or he hurts you? What if you can't finish? What if you don't enjoy it? Nonsense, you tell yourself. You close your eyes and slowly breathe Ina and out as a way to calm yourself. Everything is going to be fine, nothing is going to happen that'll ruin things.

Suddenly you hear the door open and slam shut. You jump at this, you knew your husband would be coming in soon but you hadn't anticipated him coming so soon. When you open you eyes, you expected to see him stand at the doorway staring lovingly at you. But it wasn't him

It was Bi-Han.

There he was standing at the doorway, staring you down with that predator stare. He travels around your body. Your heart begins racing all over as you jump to your feet. "G-Grandmaster, w-what are you doing here?" You stammer as you quickly rise to your feet. Bi-Han gave no reply he jus continued to stare you down like you were his prey.

At this point your heart was getting more violent as it beat against your chest and threatened to break free. Oh God, is it going to kill me? You panic, you knew he didn't approve of your pairing, but you had no idea he would go this far. You notice his strong arms, his broad shoulder, his menacing height. He could easily strangle you to death or freeze you to death. You feel a chill rush throughout your body as Bi-Han's finishes its traveling to meet your eyes.

"You look lovely." Bi-Han forces out of his mouth, it sounds like it was a struggle to let out a compliment to you. You force a smile on your face as you try to be polite. "Thank you...uh...and thank you... for this I mean. We wouldn't have made this happen if it weren't for you." Bi-han gave no reply, he just nodded.

An uncomfortable silence between you two as he stared at you and you avoided his gaze. Finally building up the courage to speak "Uh, my husband will be coming in just a few minutes, so--" " You husband will not be coming." He interupts with a stern voice. You feel your heart rush even faster than before, you feel your feet stumble back in fear a, Bi-Han calmly takes. A few steps close to you to cover the distance.

It takes you some time to form another word to pass your lips because you in such a state of surprise and fear. "W-What are you talking about? What did you do to him?!?" You pipe up, louder than you wanted. "The man is fine, but he won't be joining us. We've made an agreement." You felt the blood run cold at this. "Agreement? What agreement?" "That I will be the one to lay with you first." He said it so calmly like he was saying something else completely. It hits you like one of his ice blasts and you feel like you're losing your balance. "Excuse me?" You try to get him to clarify, surely you misheard him. Bi-Han rolls his eyes in annoyance. "It is I who will be laying with you tonight. I ordered-er- requested to have the privilege of enjoying your body first." Bi-Han confirmed. At that moment you feel your legs turn to jelly as you almost fall back onto the bed. It all makes sense now. Why he was so upset about your marriage, those eyes he was shooting at you were filled with lust.

No, this can't be. This has to be some sick joke that they're both playing on you. Yeah, that's right, it's a joke. Your husband will be walking through the door at any second and he'd laugh his ass off and you'd make him sleep somewhere for making such a bad joke. But he doesn't come. You're alone Bi-Han as he unbuttons his shirt.

You part your lips to say something, anything at all to express your refusal t do this. "You-uh-I don't..." You can't find the words. You want to find the words to protest but you're too taken aback by all of this. "You should be honored. To be bedded on your wedding night by me, the Lin Kuei's grandmother himself, is a privilege." He boasted. You angrily crossed your arms and turned from him. "I don't feel honored!" That's your best remark you make at this moment, your mind was too frazzled with all of this. You feel betrayal burn inside of you as you contemplate this all. Why would your husband agree to this? You thought he loved you, respected you, yet he does this. Why? Surely he was forced to do this, why else would do this...unless he truly valued you as a human being. On that note, why would Liu Kang and Bi-Han's brothers consent to this? Unless...they didn't know he was doing this at all.

"You will be." Bi-Han, now shirtless exposing his abs and his giant chest, snaps you back to the moment. "Why? Why are you doing this?" Bi-Han flinches at this question, he gives you a stare as if you already knew. "Because it is what I deserve, for all those years of you brazenly parading your pathetic relationship before me, all those years of torturing me with your 'love'. I deserve to at least be the first to taste you." You fold your arms and look at him in disgust. "So you're saying you feel entitled to my body?" A twisted smile spreads across his face as he sleeps with nods "Yes, precisely."

He walks over and sits himself down into the bed, gesturing towards one of his legs for you to do it. You back away at this, still in disbelief at what is happening right now. "Your Grandmaster is instructing you to serve him, you'd do good to obey him." He growls as he stares you down and once again gesturing to his leg, this time a little impatient.

With a defeated sigh, you march to him and sit down onto his lap with a violent drop hoping it might hurt him just even a little bit. "Good girl/boy/pet." He purs in a very pleased tone, it makes your skin crawl in disgust. But a side of you...likes it. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face as he admires you for a few moments.

He then plunges his hands between your legs and begins to fondle you. This sudden action causes you to gasp in surprise, you've never been touched like this before. Your husband never did and you never so much as dared to put your hand there despite how much you sometimes wanted to, you had insisted on saving yourself from enjoying these pleasures when you were married. Well, you were enjoying them now, it just isn't with the person whom you wanted it to be with. You try to cover your mouth in hopes of hiding your smooth in hopes of stifling your moans , you would try to rob Bi-Han of hearing what he was making you feel.

"You're not fooling a single soul, Y/n. But you can keep holding back all you want, I have all night...now ride it." You wipe your head to him in confusion. "My thigh," he explains as he spreads your legs over his thigh, which you now realize is massive with muscles. "I want to watch you ride it."

He places his hands on your hips and slowly guides you into a slow dry humping motion. It was an odd sensation at first, one you slowly warm up to. Bi-Han's smile and groan encourages you to continue on, giving you enough courage to go faster. You wince with the strange pleasure that slowly begins to burn in your body as you rise him faster and faster. Bi-Han's eyes are fixed on you the entire time, he takes pleasure in watching desperately ride his leg, huffing all the way. It reminds him of a chuwawa, perhaps that's how he sees you in this moment, his little pet.

The feelings of pleasure begins to build up more and more, just riding hia leg fills you with immense surprising amount of stimulation that it's almost becoming too much. It's so overwhelming to the point that you're in tears. "Grandmaster...C-Could we stop for a sec-AA!" You interrupt yourself as you let out a great cry as it happens: your first orgasm.

It is a sensation you can't describe, maybe a fire explodes inside of you, even then that barely begins to describe it. You freeze on his thigh for a few seconds as you process what just happens. Oh if your husband could see you now, would he be upset? Or would he be into it, seeing as how he let Bi-Han do this to you without even trying to fight him off. The again, you don't know what fully happened, a did know was that you were wave of differing emotion that left you irrational and basically dumb.

"As I said, you will feel honored." Bi han says as he wiped a tear from your eye, admiring your flustered state. Bi-Han's hand travels inside of your clothes this time to fondle you, you feel a chill at the feeling of him touching you with the protection of your clothes. Your fluids, still warm, are all over his hands as he pulls his hands out. You watch as he sticks one of the figures in his mouth, savouring the taste of you. He then gives you a sick smile. "Y/n, who would've thought the nectar of the gods was between your legs. You should taste it." With that he grabs you by the back of your neck and forcefully brings you in for a kiss, making you taste yourself in his mouth.

You buckle a d squirm in his grip, the thigh riding was bad enough, but kissing felt like an even greater crime. Only your husband would do this back when he was your boyfriend, but now it is Bi-Han who has his tongue in your mouth. You felt like you were committing a great betrayal, but then again...if he had agreed to this then this was a betrayal. Bi-Han's lips were so warm, so welcoming, that you stopped resisting him and melted into him. The warm and silver taste of his tongue playing inside your mouth causes your mind to slip as you take in the feeling you never even got this day when you were dating. It almost makes you forget your first kiss, you can barely remember it actually.

"You're ready now." Bi-Han pulls away, the saliva dripping from both your mouths. And with that, he shoves you onto your feet. You're confused at first, but before you can question what he's doing.

*RIP!*

"NO!!!"

You cry as Bi-Han takes your wedding clothes and rips them clean off your body without so much as a sign of a struggle. With another swipe he rips off your undergarments leaving you now standing naked before Bi-Han. He smiles as he likes what he sees. You, however, stare at the shredded pieces in his hands and on the ground. You spend your teens and your early adult years fantasizing about and you spent hours in the mirror crying as you stated at yourself wearing it on your wedding day. A major part of your dream that you spent years imagining cam and vone, destroyed by Bi-Han. "Now that that's taken care of, it is time I-AA!!" before Bi-Han can continue, you slap him abruptly in anger.

He stares at you in surprise, a slight smile curls at your lips. "Just-Just fuck me!" You huff in anger, the words are strange to come from your lips, but it feels right to say. Bi-Han has ruined everything, his dick has better be immaculate, you think.

The night goes on, Bi-Han becomes your first everything. First is dick sucking. He puts you on your knees and teases you. He comments how being on your knees before him was how it was always meant to be. He continues to mock you and he even begins to slap you in the face with his large meat before finally shoving it into your mouth. His dick feels strange in your mouth, it barely fits. Your jaw hurts as he is thrust in and out of your mouth, but then he praises you, complimenting how good your doing in between growls of pleasure, it makes you want to continue. His semen is salty yet sweet. He pulls out causing some saliva to spill out a drip down your chin. It's a massive load he leaves your mouth, he stares at you, giving you the choice to swallow or spit it out. You choose to swallow it, Bi-Han smiles at this.

Since you were such a "Good pet " Bi-Han rewards you by returning the favor. He makes you beg for it of course. He can't you have it just that easily. He makes you get on your knees and beg him to do such an "honor" to you. Once he is satisfied, he lays onto the bed and begins to go to work and buries his head between your thighs. His lips and slurps your pussy/cock with a surprising amounts of skill. Your legs shake as you take in the feeling of being orally pleased. You feel the familiar feeling of climaxing slowly coming upon you, you really liked the feeling the first time so you're excited to feel it again. But Bi-Han isn't, he quickly takes his head out of your thighs and climbs onto of you. "Your begging wasn't good enough." He explains as he lips his lips. Bastard.

"If you're good for me, then maybe I'll even let ride my leg once more." He cruelly mocks you and enjoying the furious look you give him. He takes his fingers and massages your hole to prepare your hole by losing it up.

Your eyes widen as you realize what he's about to do. He was truly about to take your virginity, yeah he made you climax in his thigh and cam in your mouth, but this was another level. "P-Please be gentle, please." You find yourself begging. Bi-Han gives you his cruel grin as he nods "Begging suits you well, Y/n.", before you can say another word, he gently places his hand over your mouth. It muffles you scream as he places his little giant slides inside of you. It fills inside of you completely taking up every single bit of space inside of you that's possible to fill, it hurts...but in a good way. You grip Bi-Han's hand as you slowely begin to enjoy the burning pain that fades into pleasure. Bi-Han freezes there as you both wait for your body to adjust to the size. When it does, Bi-Han his hips slowly thrust against you at a good pace.

He locks his eyes on you, but you try your hardest to avoid eye contact. Maybe you could pretend that this is your husband your sleeping with and not his Grandmaster to make you feel less like your cheating. But Bi-Han, his hand still over your mouth, forces you to lock eyes with him, to remind you that it is him who's on top of you. He mages you look him in the eyes as he slowly speeds up, you desperately wrap your legs and arm him you try to hold on because he was starting to fuck you more and more like a animal. Complete with groaning and even some growling. You cry and scream as Bi-Han continues, not out of pain, but because if his overwhelmingly powerful this all felt.

This is another overwhelming feeling for you. This was supposed to be with that man-y-your husband, he was supposed to be showering you with compliment as he tries his best to give a orgasm...but possibly not successfully.

The way Bi-Han is making you feel causes you to question everything, would it truly have been worth saving yourself for that man when it could've been so lack luster? You question yourself on whether or not you could even go back to him when this is all done and over with. This is not an ideal way to start a marriage, the things you've done, the things Bi-Han is making you feel. Perhaps this is what Bi-Han wanted to make you've more than than your husband by fucking your love for him away. You could care right now, all you wanted was for Bi-Han to keep going. All you could think about is the desire to stay like this, to stay underneath him which grows with each thrust. Is this what heaven feels like? It has to be. Or perhaps since this all was so new to you, this felt amazing.

You bury your head into his chest and hold onto him so tightly that you swear that you might've caused claw marks to firm in his back. You push your face into his skin as you scream. Bi-Han is encouraged by this and thrust harder, faster, and you scream louder. After so many beautiful and painful minutes, you feel it, you feel the reeling slowly beginning to firm inside your body. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you orgasm. Bi-Han doesn't take too long to finish as well, you feel yourself be filled with his burning hot cream. And that's that, you have officially lost your virginity.

Bi-Han pulls out which makes a satisfying pop sound he does. His semen skills out of you as well, you get the strange reflex to quickly close your legs to stop it all from escaping. Bi-Han looks down at you pleased at his work, you were so begrudging to do this at first but you're are so desperate for more. It almost makes him pity you. "See, I was gentle, was I not?" You slowly nod in agreement, you were stuck in a place of mind numbing Aftershock. You try to process everything that happened but nothing makes sense.

While your brain was racing, Bi-Han began to put back on his clothes and walk to the door. He opens the door as just as he expected, your husband is standing on the other side. A mortified look on his face. He sees you lying there, the state you are in horrifies him. "Y/n!" He cries as he runs past Bi-Han and to your side. "You bastard!" He snarls at a satisfied Bi-Han, who merely shrugs unbothered by this insult. "You picked a good one, (your husband's name), you have quite an excellent taste... unfortunately she/he/they doesn't since they picked you." He spits out his insult, he watches in joy as you husband's scrunches and turn red witbanger. He turns his back to you two walks out to the door, he's about to before he turns to you and gives one last look. "Enjoy the rest of your night Y/n, your begging was beautiful. Call upon me when you wished to be honored again" And with that he closes the door gently.

"Y/n, what did he do to you? A-are you okay?" Your husband is quick to question you. But you're in such a frazzled state that you can barely think."I-I just want to go to sleep. Please, j-just let me go to sleep." You desperately search his eyes, trying to find the man you were in love with, but all you could think about was Bi-Han. He wants to continue questioning you, but you take the cover and quickly cover yourself in it. You pretend the warmth in Bi-Han, that he stayed and was normal enveloping you in a cuddle with his strong arms. Perhaps your husband keeps questioning you, but you don't notice because you're so lost in your thoughts.

The place falls cold and silent, your husband decides to sleep on the floor next to you, deciding that you just have space to cope with what just happened. You felt bad inside for this, but you also felt a wonderful glow inside of you. You love your husband, or at least you think you do, but all you can think about is Bi-Han. Perhaps it should've been him you married. No! I can't think like that, you think in your head. I love my husband. I love my husband. I love my husband. You repeat in your head like a broken radio. I love my husband. I love my husband. I love Bi-Han...!!!

Dammit. This is going to be a long night.

#mk1 #mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #mk fanfic #mk x reader #mk x y/n #bi han #bi han x reader #bi han sub zero #gender nuetral reader #request will open soon #request closed #request

[mxtantrights]

un-ordinary human

a/n: okay I mean it FINAL PART. now I did say I wanted to give you angst, so don't be surprised! that being said if you want a short blurb or bullet points about this story after this def come into my inbox and tell me!!! <33 hope you enjoy (and if you see mistakes, know that I am but a feeble human who wrote this all in one go because I had one (1) idea) thank you again for all the love!!!

part one | part two

The portal lay open in front of you. The swim would be short. You would have to hold you breath for at least ten seconds, which you could do. And then you would go through the portal and be back home.

They weren't sure how it worked. If the same amount of time would have passed there as it did here. If it had been years since you left, or maybe just weeks or hours.

You sigh.

"Leaving them without saying goodbye, little human?" Amren asks.

You turn around to face her. There she is leaning against a wide tree, her arms crossed over her chest. She was the one who knew you wanted to leave tonight. You hold told her as such and said goodbye to her.

But not so much the others. Not Azriel or Eris.

It's not that you wanted to hurt them. But you thought it best to leave without being so dramatic. And without having any more conversations about your love life, or lack thereof.

"I think it's better this way." you answer.

"Or you're just being a coward. And you don't want to get hurt again." Amren pipes in.

She walks over to you slowly. You watch as her arm detangle from themselves. And then she's taking your hands into hers.

"It's okay to want to protect yourself. Just don't lie about it, epically to me." Amren adds on.

You smile sadly, "I'll miss you so much."

"I know. But our friendship wasn't meant to happen. So even this little time we did have, I will cherish." she says.

You can't help the tear that slides down your cheek. Amren swipes it away and smiles with you. You sniffle as she grabs onto your shoulders and shakes you bit.

"I'm going home." you say quietly.

"You're going home." she agrees.

She lets go of you. You take a step back and compose yourself as best you can. You roll your shoulders back and you take a deep breath.

Then you do it. You walk into the lake, you walk and walk until the water reaches your waist. You look back at Amren who gives you a small wave. You wave back.

You hold your breath and dive underwater.

-

There's only one word you can use to describe your world now.

Madness.

Walking through the portal was the best decision at the time for you. You could finally go back home, be normal again. Not have to worry about someone picking you off like prey simply because you are human.

But you couldn't possible expect this.

While you only spent less than ten years with the fae, it's been more than fifty years back home. Meaning everything you ever had is gone, everything you've ever known is changed, and almost everyone you knew is fifty years older than you.

You realized very quickly that you couldn't stay in the place you called home. How could you? Walk around with the same face from fifty years ago? They would call you a witch, they would do awful and vile things to you.

So you made the lonesome trek across the canary isles to the other side. Where no one had heard of you, had ever seen you before. And just for added assurance you changed your name too.

The rumbling began a year after you came back.

You'd feel it pass during the day at work at the local inn, or at night while your were sleeping. And sure enough when you'd go outside the next day there was a new crack in the ground. Cracks spanning for miles. Some ran deep, some were just surface level.

But you knew, you knew what was happening.

How the Canary Isles were rocked by powerful tremors and then sunk. Reemerging as the court of nightmares. You' don't know what scares you most, knowing that the very ground beneath you feet will be submerged underwater at any given moment or that what comes after is fae, and other magical beings.

You wouldn't run. You wouldn't run no matter how much your mind screamed at you to go. And you had plenty of opportunity to. It's not like you would need to pack anything either. Your pay at the inn was enough to eat, bathe and house yourself.

But you couldn't find it in yourself to abandon your home land. Or the people. You couldn't convince all of them that something bad was going to happen without coming off as a with or heretic. So you stayed, you waited, and waited.

All that waiting you did just made you sad. Sad for what was to come, and sad that you didn't say goodbye to Azriel and Eris. You left without a word, without a thought for their pain. You only thought of yourself.

You've regretted it since coming back. But the portal only worked once for you, and closed immediately after.

You waited for five years after the rumbling began. Then it happened. The once large island splintered off into four, uneven pieces. You saw a lot of lives lost that day.

And with the help of those who survived you rebuilt. But in the back of your mind you knew it was for nothing because soon the isles would be gone.

It happens on a normal day. When you are off from work, picking up fresh vegetables for a few of your neighbors. You feel it starting. In your feet, the ground shakes. Then the fruits from the stand to your right start rolling off the display. Apples and pears rolling past you.

The ground cracked where you stood. You tried you best to run. And you did make it quite far. You made it all the way to what used to be the old village, but was now chunks of land in the sea. The land just cuts off with no warning.

And you had no choice. When the large crack made it's slithering voyage to you. There was no decision. There was no left or right step to take. Before you knew it, you were falling into the open ground, into the ice cold water.

-

Amren had this feeling in her gut today. She couldn't bother to eat fresh meat, she couldn't keep focused during training the Nesta, and she couldn't bother to really pay attention to Varian.

Something happened. She just didn't know what.

And she would have stayed this way if it weren't for the interruption almost four hours after she felt it but Eris. He winnowed into the kitchen, cheeks flush and eyes wide.

She was the only one there. The only one to witness him like this.

"I can't feel it. The bond. I can't feel it anymore." he got out.

Amren turned to him, "She went home years ago, wouldn't you have felt it then?"

"I'm unsure. But this, it feels cold. Like I'm tied to a piece of ice." Eris answers, his hand placed over his chest.

In a matter of seconds, Azriel comes bursting into the kitchen. He sees Eris, and his very distressed state, and then he takes in Amren. Amren who has a look of worry on her face.

"It's happened. The Isles, they sunk into the water." Azriel speaks.

Eris looks at him bewildered, "But that can't be. She just got there. Are you saying she went home only to die in five years?"

"Maybe the time was different there. We don't know." Amren offers.

"Nyx said that my hands felt cold. I didn't even notice until I asked Cassian to feel them." Azriel confesses.

"Wait, how could you feel something when you-" Amren cuts herself off.

She looks at Azriel then. His eyes down trodden, watery. It was one thing for him to lose someone he really cared for, but this was more emotion that that. This, this was the loss of a mate.

"Is this what it will feel like? Forever?" Eris asks, mainly to himself but still out loud.

He's seemingly too in shock to put together what Azriel just divulged.

Amren felt it then. The feeling she got that morning. It wasn't some enchantment or some new groundbreaking emotion. It was guilt Guilt that she had let you go to your death.

-

A few months later and Azriel isn't himself. He's tried his best but he cannot seem to function at the level he's used to. His hands remind him of you being gone.

He hadn't told anyone. Still hasn't, to this day. But he felt it. He felt it when you asked him why you were so important to them. He felt the bond snap.

And he hid it. He hid it with ease, with the same amount of effort Eris used to hide his bond with you.

Azriel is standing in Rhys' office, waiting for Eris to come in. Apparently he received a letter from Kalias about something important.

The ginger haired male steps into the room and takes Eris in. The dark circles under his eyes, his usual smirk gone. Azriel never thought he'd see the day.

Eris walks in without a word and passes the note to Azriel. He doesn't even look in his direction when he does it. Azriel reads the note out loud quickly.

Special request. In need of Fire abilities. And espionage skills. Urgent item in need of acquiring.

"I don't see why not." Rhys says.

"It's beneath me, is why." Eris scowls.

"The both of you could use this right now. You won't be back to your old selves but maybe it's what you need." Rhys tries again.

Azriel lets a moment pass.

"I'll go on your orders." he says to his friend.

Rhys chuckles, "I don't want you to go because of me. I want you to go because this is something new."

"Bring a flame-thrower. I'm going home." Eris barks.

Eris heads for the door but as soon as his hand lands on the knob, Rhys starts speaking again.

"Kalias called for the two of you. I wouldn't want to risk any court relations because you decided not to show up." Rhys replies.

Eris turns around, angry.

"Who cares about some lost artifact, which is probably all that it is." Eris argues.

"Kalias does. And if you want an alliance with this court, you'll join Azriel." Rhys speaks sternly.

Eris and Azriel pass a look to one another. They haven't been in the same room since that day they both felt her lack of presence.

"Fine."

"Whatever."

-

Kalias leads both Azriel and Eris down a tunnel of ice. One that was being carved open for years. Over a decade of fae had taken their picks and hatchet to this iceberg in hopes of finding something, anything that could clue them into the history of the court.

And for a while it was nothing. Just ice, the ver present chunk of frozen terrain, and then more ice.

Until a few months ago. When a fae swore he saw something larger than a piece of land. With no distinct shape. They took their time and picked and chipped at the ice until they could get close enough to the unidentified object.

But what they soon realized was their tools could very well disturb the state of the object. They could chip at the ice wrong and a piece could break off.

And that's why Kalias needed Eris. A male in the fiercest control of his fire powers that could melt the ice and procure the object. Once he had the object, depending on what it was, he needed to keep it safe. Who best but the spymaster himself?

Kalias stops once he reaches the spot. He points tot he blurted object in the ice.

"You'll need to be very careful. Too quick and you may very well melt or burn the object. But too slow and the very ice beneath us could give way." the high lord says.

"A death mission." Eris grumbles.

"We could winnow out of here before anything bad happens. But that would presumably leave this object lost to us forever." Kalias adds.

"Please don't kill us." Azriel says to Eris.

Eris raises his hand up to the ice wall. Slowly but surely the ice begins to melt. Drips of water landing on the floor and freezing again into ice.

Kalias watches in amazement.

Azriel does too.

The object getting more clear with each passing moment.

Kalias gasps, "That's a body!"

Eris stops for a second. He takes a step back.

"Keep going, Eris." Azriel says.

Eris places both his hands on the sheet of ice wall in front of him. Carefully he use his fire to melt the ice down even more. Not too quick but fast enough. The ice keeps melting, thinning the space between the three of them and the body.

Eris gets close. So close that he is scared of what he might see. Scared that it might be bones wrapped in clothes and garb. Or there might still be flesh on the body.

"Carefully now." Kalias instructs him.

Azriel's shadows come up the shell of his ear. They only ever do that if they have something to say to him. An important detail. A secret. A wrong move.

Eris pushes a bit farther and the body becomes easier to make out. So easy in fact that he feels like he can't stop. He can't stop, and Azriel's shadows seem to make out what the object finally is.

Eris and Azriel gasp at the same time.

There is the sheet of ice, half frozen and half thawed, is you.

-

"She'll be disoriented at best. There isn't any tonics or healing techniques for this type of situation." a voice says above you. It sounds older, feminine.

"But she'll be okay?" another asks. A male voice. A bit low.

"I'll have to check her vitals every few hours. And she shouldn't be crowded by too many faces. But, by my account, she'll be okay." the female voice.

"Thank you so much Majda." a new voice says. Male. A bit lower than the first one.

"Don't thank me yet. The road will be long to recovery."

"I think we'll take it." another voice says. Another female voice.

You try opening your eyes but they feel so heavy. And everything feels so cold. It wasn't like you to feel this cold. The Canary Isles weren't cold like this. This feels like a tundra nipping at the blood in your body.

You groan at the feeling.

"She's getting up. I need the three of you back."

You can faintly feel someone's touch on you. If you're in bed, there should be no one in your home. You live alone. But maybe something happened?

You try to speak but your throat feels sore.

"Don't try to speak just yet. You'll need something for that. When you're ready I want you to open your eyes." the older females voice says.

You swallow. Then you try opening your eyes again. It happens slowly. You feel like you have to peel them open, but they open. There is no light where you are. Which is weird because you sleep with the curtains half open usually.

The scent in front of you is very blurry. You can make out one face in front of you.

"Shake your head for no, and nod for yes. Can you see me?" she asks.

You shake your head. You reach up for your eyes but you feel her grab onto your hands.

"I applied something to your eyes to help you open them. But I'll wipe it off now before you rub it in." she says.

You nod your head once. She tells you what you're about to feel. And when you fell the damp cloth across your eyes your still flinch. But you let it happen.

As she wipes your vision clears up. And you can finally place her. Majda. If this is Majda, then that means...

Your heart starts racing.

"She's panicking. I need hands. Now." She says behind her back.

Which makes you look to what's right in front of you. Well not what, but who. Amren. Azriel and Eris.

Flashes of what led to you being here go through your mind. The rumblings. The cracks in the ground. The isles being split into four. The last day. How the land swallowed you whole and you landed in the water. Nowhere to swim to.

You're back here. Again.

"Lovesick fools, Amren!" Majda yells.

Amren comes over to your side. She rushes over and makes you lay back down completely. You're not in control of your emotions or your body. You can feel yourself flailing around but you can't stop yourself.

Weakly, you whisper, "Amren?"

"I know, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." she says.

"I won't give you the whole dose but, you need to calm down." Majda says to you.

Then you feel the pinch in your arm. You look over to your left side. A needle in your arm. It beings back memories of Beron. Poking and prodding at you, trying to figure you out. You let out a wail.

"That dose was nothing. It went right through her."

Amren looks behind her, "One of you do something!"

You watch as both of them walk over to you.

Eris slower than Azriel, who joins you on your left side where Majda is. He kneels down and extends his hand to yours.

As if to ask you to take it.

You want to cry. And that is what you do. You feel the tears roll down your cheeks as you look at him. His eye wet too. His lips form a sad smile when you take his hand softly.

The fear and the pain seeping through you seems to slow down a fraction. You feel like you can breathe again. You look over to your right side, where Eris and Amren are.

Eris makes a move to come closer to you but seems to think against it. You reach out your hand for him. He looks down at your hand, shock written all over his face, and then back up at you.

You nod your head at him.

He gives in fairly quickly. Eris takes your hand in his. You can feel the warmth from him and you let out a sigh. You settle into the bed below you a bit more.

"We thought you were gone. We felt it, the coldness." Eris says.

You're brows scrunch in the middle and you look over at Azriel. The last you checked, he couldn't feel anything like Eris could.

"I lied too. I'm sorry." Azriel speaks.

You shake your head, wanting so desperately to speak to them. To tell them how sorry you were. How you shouldn't have left without a goodbye. Or how you shouldn't have left them in such turmoil.

You take your hands and move them up both of their arms, willing them closer. Eris takes the hint first and sits on the edge of the bed. When your hands travels further, up his opposite shoulder he stills.

Azriel leans forward and places his head forward, into your side. Your hand snakes from his arm to the back of his head, your fingers in his hair.

It's then, and only then, that Eris tucks his head into your shoulder. And you finally feel like you're able to breathe normally. You reach up and rub the nape of his neck.

Sure the first time you got her had been some freak accident. But this time? This time had been fate pre-determined and unrelenting.

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #Eris x reader #azriel aimgine #eris imagine #acotar imagine #acotar #azriel #eris

[spacebaby1]

Saw your post!!! 🧡

Hear meowt, Sukuna Fluff: You. Finding Your boyfriend's secret notebook, filled with sketches and plans about a wedding. A wedding that he's planning to have. With you. There are bride dress/kimonos options on cut out paper, glued to the pages for you to choose from, the color schemes are your favorite colors, maybe even a fusion of both of your color aesthetics, there are underlined words like, spring wedding cause he knew you liked cherry blossoms, maybe having a beach revenue, there is a list on another page of places all over the world you've mentioned you wanted to go to, finding and pinpointing the best location to go on honeymoon with you.

And he doesn't know that you know now, that he's planning to marry you. Last page info is your finger size and his. There's a date on the top left of the paper. This had been planned for 4 years into your relationship. And he's planning to propose to you in 2 weeks.

This is literally cute idea! Enjoy!

Sukuna wasn't much of a writer but recently he had been writing something in his ""mystery journal"" that you didn't know what it was and didn't care much of invading his privacy because he would never do that to you when you are writing in your journal. But one day you two were sitting on the couch as you were scrolling on pinterest and it caught his attention an specific picture of a wedding cake that you scrolled past mindlessly. "What's this app, love?" He asked. You turned to look at him, "this? This is pinterest. It's like app for pictures and stuff. Why?" He handed you his phone, "can you download it for me? I can save pictures from it right?" You nodded, "Yeah." Without a second thought you made him an account on pinterest. And he spent most of that night and his mornings scrolling through pinterest for ideas which you were not informed at all.

Few days went by and you were putting the clothes away after doing the laundry and that's when you saw it. In one of the drawers where you were putting Sukuna's shirt his journal was sat there under one of the shirts. You shook your head and placed the rest of the clothes away however something in you told you to read the journal. Although you trusted Sukuna either your whole heart and wasn't expecting him to write about someone else and felt bad to invade his privacy; you knew you won't be able to rest until you find out what's in that journal. Placing the basket away you grabbed the journal and sat on the bed as you took a deep breath before opening the journal and your heart beating fast only blink few times as you read the title in the fist page; ""wedding plan"". You flipped the pages and there were bunch of details about the two locations he had picked and you flipped another page that had bunch of pictures of white dresses and kimonos alongside with the names of shops.

In one of your friends gathering he heard you talk about how you want to have your honeymoon in Malaysia and there it was the details about an honeymoon in Malaysia. You gasped as you read further; Sukuna had neatly wrote every single details about a further wedding. The list went on and on and each page made you remember when you'd mention about a ring, food, trips; everything. The date on some of the pages made you gasp, he had been planning it since years. You looked at the last page and there was a date with a heart next to it with the word proposal and it is in few weeks. You were happily crying that you didn't hear the front door unlocked and Sukuna walked in the room. The door opened and it made you flinch with the journal in your hand. "Baby? What's wrong why are you cry-" Sukuna stopped mid-way holding your face in his arms when he saw his journal fell from your hand on the floor. You both looked at it as you quickly got up to grab it and put it away, "I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to read-"

Sukuna chuckled and grabbed the journal, "Are you crying because of this?" He asked, and you nodded. "It's so sweet, Sukuna. Why didn't you tell me?" You asked as he whipped your tears and hugged you. "I was planning on surprising you, but you are sneaky and got to it before I could surprise you." You chuckled and looked at him, "Are you serious about it? The date?" He nodded. "I can still pretend that I didn't see any of it," you said, making him laugh, and he kissed your cheek. "Or, we can go through it and plan whatever you want to pick?" He said, caressing your hair. You nodded and laughed, "and I thought I'll be stressing for a wedding plan." He smiled, giving you a small kiss, "I'll never let my girl stress."

#soft sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna ryoumen x you #sukuna ryoumen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[writingpun-art]

does the name pavlov ring a bell

#nanowrimo #sona #sketch #comic #national novel writing month #anyway this is mostly about how last nano me and my gf had a series of coffee dates to write #and they were some of the days where i wrote the most #which made me very happy :)

[radioactive-earthshine]

NGL I have STRONG opinions about digital releases omitting the letters to the editor section of older comics. I feel like the letters are a part of comic history and should be aggressively preserved.

#look i was a weirdo and loved the letters so much #so much #so fucking damn much #i still to this day mourn that we don't have them #sometimes the editors would publish blatant aggressive criticism and promise to do better on some things #it was rare but it did happen in a handful of things involving stereotypes #also there is queer history in them such as in superboy and the ravers where people wrote in about hero #asking WHY he was not interested in women and this editor had to so professionally explain that he was GAY and where they stood on it #you also got to read queer readers writing in about these queer characters and the JOY in their words is priceless #also sorry but geoff's letters are fun and stupid at the same time and are a huge insight to what his hcs were #he LOVED tiny krypto so much it likely inspired him making dex starr bc he loved the idea of a small overly powered animal #not saying that was the main reason why ofc but it is interesting that he created dex after praising that mean little mutt #i say with the most love #my venting #my rambles

[gaylactic-fire]

I still maintain there was (and probably still is) a very weird circlejerk surrounding whump/angst in the LU fandom

#fires posts #ramblings #negative #we were just talking about it on the friend server but yeah wth #obvs I'm still in the fandom just much more withdrawn #but back in the days of the LU server the culture around it was very very weird #like if you wrote wh/ump it's as if u were part of some elite club #and said club was always trying to one up each other in who could torture X Link the most #to the point where it was often borderline fetishistic #and like I don't caaaare I'm just gonna stay away from u if you're into that #but being but a humble hurt/comfort writer often felt very isolating #even when you wanted to talk about your fic ideas some rando would join and be like “How can we hurt him more?” #it was very uncomfortable

[miutonium]

Its 4 am, I should be sleeping but why is it that I just have the urge to draw and ship her with a pathetic nerd gf??

#that pathetic nerd gf is me #i watched the incredibles recently and suddenly i remembered that I am gay #but also she just kinda reminds me of jessica rabbit personality wise #shes so serious all the time until theres a vwry brief moment she was caught off guard and all her confidence were gone- #when she got sucker punched lol #also i literally wrote this on the fly i imagine like the nerd girl was the lead engineer for most of Syndrome's machine #like yes he is a genius sure but most of the technicalities were made by her #so like I imagine that one day while she and Mirage where in the same room #she was like “you could just leave this place yknow. idk what you see in him that makes you so devoted on building these intricate machines- #for him.“ and she went silent before mirage continued ”you could build for gods for superheroes but you choose to have yourself stuck- #in this volcano island for some rich megalomaniac who got hurt that some fat guy hurts his feelings decades ago“ #and just as she was about to protest mirage asked again “what do you see yourself here?” and the nerd girl just kinda laughs and was like #“i dont really see any future here but all I know is he got his toys and I am having fun building it” #and mirage just couldn't help but laugh at her bluntness lol #but also it would be fun that she asked her the question back and mirage couldnt answer it either #its like working for syndrome just gave them both a purpose to live in a sense #i mean likeeee they both dont trust syndrome no no i mean like they have something to do other than wander aimlessly in their lives? idk #this should have been in this post why am i leaving it in the tags????? #anyway chat should I f/o her???? #asuka speaks

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

#good omens #neil gaiman #sir terry pratchett #good omens show #good omens fandom #good omens mascot #weirdly specific but ok #asmi

[xxsabitoxx]

How JJK Men Eat Pussy 2.0

Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Yuta, Itadori, Megumi

Warnings: All characters are 18+, this post is explicit smut. As if you couldn’t tell that from the title

A/N: Funny story, I forgot I already wrote this same concept last year… but since I didn’t realize until I finished writing this… imma post it anyways. But if you’d like to see my original thoughts on this topic, you can see them here with an additional 2 characters lol

Gojo Satoru

He is relentless, especially when he’s in the mood to go down on you. These little moods of his will have him between your legs for hours, multiple times a day. You always like to joke that he knows when you’re ovulating because somehow these little moods seem to fall in sync. If Satoru goes more than three days without you, it’s like he’s going through withdrawals. He’s skilled with his tongue, he’s able to move it in ways and speeds you didn’t know a man could. Typically he’s a tease, he’ll edge you until you have an orgasm so pathetic you can’t even call it one. Ya know, the kinds where you come and don’t feel that satisfaction, just the pulsating ache of needing more. But recently, Satoru discovered how much more fun it is to overstimulate you. He loves the way your finger’s bury in his hair and try to tug him off as he sucks on your clit until you’re sobbing and begging him to ease up. He’ll keep your thighs spread wide, large hands effortlessly keeping them in place while they desperately try and close. He’s also the type to see those “pineapple make’s your cum sweet” articles and come home with enough pineapples to feed a village. He’s not even embarrassed about his reasoning, even if it’s just a myth, his sweet tooth can’t pass up the opportunity. Satoru loves your natural taste, but you surprised him with edible lubes in various fruity and sweet flavors one night… you still recall seeing the sun rise. 

Geto Suguru

He’s a god at eating pussy and you can’t convince me otherwise. Suguru has always been about your pleasure over his, not to say he doesn’t have his selfish moments, but your pleasure is just so much fun to him. He loves the noise, the facial expressions, the smell, the taste. The first time he went down on you, you were convinced he was lying about it being his first time. The ability just came naturally to Suguru. Like Satoru, Suguru loves to tease you. He’ll focus all of his attention on your dripping entrance, only stimulating your clit if his nose bumps it. He loves the way you squirm, his nails leaving crescent shaped nail marks in the plump flesh of your thighs as he holds you in place. He loves your breathless gasps, his long hair tickling your thighs as he eats you out, only adding to the stimulation that’s making your toes curl. Suguru loves to make you beg, pulling his mouth away from your cunt to just barely flick his tongue over your clit. He’ll stop all together just to taunt you until you’re sobbing, begging him to do something. He has a whole album on his phone dedicated to you, most of the content being videos of him eating you out, some he even made you take just so he could see the camera shake with your effort to keep it straight and hear your noises better. He puts on a show for you, slurping and sucking and moaning just to feel your thighs tremble as you moan with him. 

Nanami Kento

Eating you out is a stress reliever for Nanami… so it happens like very fucking day. Lord help me this man will spend hours edging you, cheek pressed into your thigh as he lazily licks and nips at your cunt. He can’t think about anything but you when he is between our legs, moaning and whining his name like a beautiful lullaby. He’ll let you cum eventually, but for the time being you are completely at his mercy. Nanami is the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, especially on nights where he comes home late and you’re already passed out in bed. He’ll make out with your cunt honestly, licking and sucking and nipping at your folds until he can’t tell if you’re wet from his saliva or your own arousal. The answer is both. He doesn’t care for any of the fancy shit, so don’t bother with flavored lubes or eating particular fruits to try and alter your taste, he just wants you and you alone. I feel like this man has a scent kink so the smell of your arousal honestly gets him going even more. He prefers eating you out in bed, mostly because he’s tired and nothing feels better to him than laying on his plush mattress while using your thighs as his pillow. He’s a whore for face sitting by the way, even less of his energy needs to be put into  that, especially when you’re grinding your cunt against his tongue. Nanami’s other favorite thing to do is use his tie to bind your wrists, that way you really can’t interrupt him.

Fushiguro Toji

I had to restart Toji’s so many times because I got too aggressive. Listen, this bummy ass bitch will eat you out till the sunrises and he will make a fucking mess of you while he does it. Toji will eat you out and finger fuck you until you’re screaming. He’ll give you a “break” by stuffing you full with his dick and then get back to work eating you out again after he blew his load in you. Filthy bitch. He’ll eat you out anytime, anywhere, any position. He’ll never turn down the opportunity and depending on your relationship with him, this bitch may even charge you for his services. Which is just another way he likes to tease you, watching you whine and squirm while you cough up the money he wants. He’ll call you pathetic as he gets on his knees and basically rips your underwear off of you, commenting the whole time about how much of a whore you are… like he ain’t selling his body to you rn. This man will somehow make you feel inferior, but you can’t be bothered when his tongue is lapping at your cunt like a starved man. Toji will make sure your thighs and your cunt are swollen, bruised, overstimulated, and sore by the time he’s done with you. Your cunt is puffy from his sucking and biting, thighs littered in dark marks and teeth indents. He'd go as far as to find a marker and write “cum dumpster” on you if he was really in the mood to see you sob.

Ryomen Sukuna

Listen, you thought Toji could be mean? Sukuna is ten times worse. The thing is, the king of curses actually likes to eat pussy but he won’t admit it. But that is not to say he can’t live without it, Sukuna is selfish and really only prefers things that pleasure him in the process. But, when you’re sobbing, pathetically begging him to go down on you, he may just crack. Especially if you’re looking at him with watery eyes, swollen lips from sucking him off, your neck littered with bite marks and bruises. Oh, and, if you’ve made him cum, he’s more likely to agree and indulge you. If you manage to convince the king of curses to go down on you, don’t expect him to be easy on you. His nails are digging into the flesh of your thighs, blood dripping slowly as he eats you out with so much force it’s borderline painful. He’s using his tongue and his teeth, nipping at your folds and even grazing your clit with them until he can tell your sobs are a breathless mix of pleasure and pain. If we’re talking true form Sukuna, I promise you he won’t stop until you’ve blacked out. He’ll use one set of arms to hold your waist while the other set keeps your thighs spread. He’s forcefully dragging your cunt over the long tongue that protrudes from his stomach, occasionally stopping just to hold you still as he spreads you open and stuffs you with the same tongue, watching you yelp and moan as he toys with you. 

Okkotsu Yuta

If you look up the definition of “pussy drunk” you’ll see a picture of Yuta. This man cannot go down on you without becoming delirious. Your body puts him in a trance, he can’t even explain the way you make him feel. Yuta is all about body worship and his favorite way to go about it is having his face shoved between your legs for hours. He’s just as vocal as you are while he eats you out, groaning and whining against your cunt until the vibrations are making your eyes roll back as you cum again. He’ll be kneading your thighs as he eats, squeezing them like stress balls and hitting nerves that send sparks of electricity all the way to your toes and all the way up to the base of your neck. Without even trying, Yuta will manage to overstimulate you until you’re unironically going cross-eyed, fingers twitching as they bury in his hair and try to pull him off so you can catch your breath. Yuta is still a bit shy when it comes to being intimate outside of the privacy of your home. But that doesn’t mean he won’t drag you into the nearest bathroom and eat you out against the bathroom stall. In this sense, he’s almost cocky when someone unknowingly enters the bathroom only to see two sets of feet in one of the stalls. Not to mention the noises are echoing. Yuta lives to see your eyes going wide from embarrassment as he doesn’t stop, your noises are uncontrollable as he tongue fucks you. The poor bastard who entered the bathroom with the intention of properly using it just muttered under their breath and walked out.

Itadori Yuji

Yuji is eager, so, so damn eager. He wants to do anything and everything that brings you pleasure so when it comes to eating you out, he’s determined to be great at it. Yuji is the type to ask you for “practice” or “lessons” which is just his way of indirectly asking if he can eat you out. Most of the time, it’s an offer you can’t refuse, because as fate would have it, Yuji isn’t bad at anything. He’s so praise focused, eyes glued to your face as he flicks his tongue along your folds and waits for you to tell him he’s doing good. He’ll slow down when your praise isn’t coming fast enough because he wants you to beg. Yuji is a sucker for adding fingers to the mix, as much as he loves making you cum with just his tongue, he sees no point in limiting your pleasure for his own confidence boost. Kind of contradictory since he likes when you beg. Yuji is also the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, just slowly lapping at your cunt while also rutting his hips into the mattress, trying to not wake you up until you’re coming. He finds it so pretty when you wake up gasping, completely unable to restrict any of your noises as you orgasm. It’s important to mention that Yuji is a sucker for 69-ing and face sitting, he loves, loves, feeling your plush thighs caging in his head. He can’t get enough of the way your body settles so nicely into him, no longer afraid of “suffocating him” by sitting all the way down on him.

Fushiguro Megumi

He won’t admit it but he loves to eat you out. Megumi is shy at heart so even if he’s been with you for years, he can still get embarrassed when telling you how badly he wants to go down on you. He’s focused when he does get between your legs, hands gripping your thighs or hips while his tongue laps greedily at your cunt. Megumi loves to tongue fuck you, just because he knows it’s not enough stimulation to make you cum but enough to make you embarrassingly wet. He’s a bit mean at first, not willing to let you come until he feels you’ve earned it. He’ll stop abruptly just to sink his teeth into your inner thighs, not stopping until you’re gasping as the pain turns bruising. He’ll admire the teeth indents he’s left on your skin while his nails are scratching down your other thigh, tongue moving to wiggle against your clit until your hips are bucking. Megumi finds toys to be very hit or miss, but he’s found a love for stuffing you with a vibrator while putting all of his attention on your clit. Megumi’s preferred method of “torture” depends on his mood, either he’ll edge you until you’re begging or overstimulate you until you’re crying. He’s very private when it comes to these things… unless he’s jealous. Much like Yuta, he will not hesitate to drag you somewhere private while out in public to remind you of who you belong to. 

#dividers are from @benkeibear #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk headcanons #gojo smut #geto smut #satoru smut #suguru smut #nanami smut #toji smut #sukuna smut #yuta smut #itadori smut #megumi smut #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #sukuna x reader #yuta x reader #itadori x reader #megumi x reader

[shitacademicswrite]

I want to share something for those of you who are teaching and want your conservative students to be more open-minded to liberal ideas that you’re presenting.

I grew up in a conservative family and a conservative town, and like most conservative kids, had been told that colleges were hotbeds of liberalism, so I was already defensive politically when I started college. My first semester or two I was really skeptical of everything political that my professors presented me with.

And then I took a women’s studies course (required at my college). And on the first day, the professor said, 

“You don’t have to be a feminist. There are days when I’m not a feminist. But we’re going to discuss feminist ideas in this class, and you might find that you agree with some of them and disagree with others, and that’s fine.”

And that took the pressure off. By telling me that I didn’t HAVE to be a feminist, that I didn’t HAVE to agree, that professor started me on the road to becoming a feminist. I particularly remember her giving us information about what a huge percentage of the housework was still done by women, even in [hetero] couples where both the man and woman worked outside the home. And after that I remember saying, “I’m not a feminist, but I can see where they’re coming from.” 

Within 5 years, I was claiming the term and coming out to my mom as a feminist.

So when I taught college writing, I assigned politically liberal essays to my students, many of whom came from conservative backgrounds. And before they read the first one, I would say,

“The reading for the next class--I want you to know that you don’t have to agree with it. You don’t have to agree with anything that your professors teach you in college. But the point of a college education is to have your mind opened to other points of view. So you’re not required to agree, but you are required to approach the reading with an open mind. You might find that you agree with some things the author says and disagree with others. And that’s cool! We WANT you to use your critical thinking and decide for yourself what you think about things! But to do that, you need to give people the benefit of the doubt and be open-minded to what they have to say.”

And I have to say, it worked really well for me! I remember in particular that after I assigned the essay “Black Men and Public Space”, one of my students wrote in her reading reflection,

“I was taught in school that racism in America ended with Martin Luther King. I am appalled to discover that this is not true.”

Priming your students to be open-minded, while also encouraging them to use critical thinking, can help to break down some of the automatic defenses against new ideas that students are often taught. Approaching your students’ comments during discussion with an open-minded view yourself, validating their experiences while also making gentle counterarguments, can do a lot as well.

#teaching #college #education #pedagogy #persuasion

[ghoulphile]

sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position. 

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.” 

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout smut #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout #fallout fanfic

[spacelazarwolf]

apparently a bunch of ppl on social media are trying to call for a boycott of rick riordan because of this statement in a blog post:

Becky and I are just back from a busy weekend with events at the Boston Book Festival and New York Comic-Con.

Before I get into that, however, some words to acknowledge the ongoing horrors in Israel and Gaza. As many of you may know, I am no longer on social media. My accounts post only updates on my books and related projects. I do not read posts, reply to posts, or share my thoughts about world events on those forums. That doesn’t mean I don’t have strong feelings and reactions. It means I am offline as completely as possible, except for the occasional blog post like this one.

I will say this: Over the last eighteen years, I have received many fan letters from young readers, both Israeli and Palestinian, who often told me that my books helped them escape the fear, grief and anxiety they were dealing with at the time. Some had lost family members to violence. Some were writing while in the distance they could hear explosions, gunfire, and the launching of rockets. They used my books as a way to escape into another world, where the monsters were fictional, and where demigods usually saved the day. While I am always glad that my books can help young readers find joy during difficult times, my heart breaks every time I hear about the things they have to deal with. I am grief-stricken by the horrific events now unfolding, especially because I know that they are part of a long historic pattern that has been robbing too many children of their childhood and perpetuating hatred for far too long.

I am also quite aware that when anyone, myself included, tries to speak about this issue, the reader is waiting to pounce, thinking, “Yes, but whose side are you on?” That is exactly the wrong question. If there are two sides to this issue, those sides are not Palestinian/Israeli or Muslim/Jewish. The two sides are humanitarian and dehumanizing. Dehumanizing has a long evil history. It is appealing and easy to buy into, because humans are tribal animals. We are hardwired to think in terms of ‘us’ versus ‘them.’ We are the real humans, the good guys, the ones with God on our side. Those other people are evil monsters who don’t deserve empathy. Hate mongers have thrived on dehumanizing for as long as there have been humans. It provides them with a purpose, a way to rally support, power, and scapegoats. It is easy to point to atrocities committed by our enemies, while justifying or minimizing the atrocities committed by ourselves or our allies.

Humanitarianism is a much harder sell. It requires us to empathize, to see other groups of people as equally deserving of dignity and quality of life. It requires not always putting ourselves and our needs first. But in the long run, humanitarianism is our only hope. If violence could end violence, if we could put an end to “those other people” once and for all, human history would read very differently than it does.

So yes, I am appalled by the Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians. I am appalled by the suffering of Palestinian civilians in Gaza. Both things can be true. Both things must be true. My thoughts are with all the people who have died, who have lost loved ones, who have had their worlds and their lives shattered, especially the children. More death and violence will not break this cycle, which has been going on for generations. There is no military solution. Even since I first wrote the post, only twenty-four hours ago, the Israeli government’s brutal retaliation against the entire population of Gaza has reached genocidal proportions. This is not only an atrocity. It is folly. Answering misery with misery only creates more fertile ground for extremism, dehumanizing the “other side,” letting hate mongers thrive, stay in power, and reduce us all to our most monstrous impulses. The only real solution is treating each other like equally worthy human beings, and negotiating a peace that allows all parties a chance to live in security and dignity, with hopes for a future that does not include bombs and rockets and gunfire. This means security and support for Israel, yes. It also means a secure Palestine which is allowed to get the international aid and recognition it needs to build a viable state.

Do I think that will happen? Unfortunately, no. Humans are simply too selfish, too ready to blame “the other” for all their problems, too ready to dehumanize, though I also believe, perhaps paradoxically, that most people just want to live their lives in peace and have a chance for their children to have a brighter future. The problem is when we don’t allow other people to have those same hopes and dreams — when it becomes a false choice of us versus them.

What can I do? I will continue to write books that I hope will give young readers some joy. I will resist the urge to demonize entire groups of people. I will call for less violence, not more violence. And when asked whose side I am on, I will tell you I am on the side of humanitarianism.

So with that said, I return to the world of books . . .

honestly, if you have a problem with this statement, it’s probably because he’s talking about you. this is exactly what legitimate activists (as in not just random westerners who share social media posts but on-the-ground activists who are doing real work) have been saying for decades. and i think all this really speaks to just how disconnected a lot of westerners who claim to be pro palestinian are from those activists.

if you can’t read a statement that says “i am on the side of humanitarianism and less violence” without immediately jumping to cancel them, you are the problem being discussed in the above statement.

#ip

[yazmarina]

dime, ¿esto es lo que tú quería'?

charles leclerc and oscar piastri x fem!reader

how about a reward for monaco's p1 and p2?

warnings/notes: smut, threesome, a blowjob, slight degradation, dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up, people!!!), cumshot, creampie, gagging, light choking

a/n: very ambitious and would not set me free until i wrote it...so please enjoy <3

.

You really had no idea how you ended up here.

Arthur is a good friend of yours, having met him when you first came to work for Ferrari under the communication department, mostly being assigned to handle the Academy and development drivers' communication needs. You and Arthur got on well, and eventually, you were hanging out with him and his other friends on the weekends.

The two of you were strictly friendly, something you've had to clear out multiple times to work superiors, nosy colleagues, insistent reporters, you name it.

Arthur isn't your type, point blank, period.

His older brother was a different topic altogether.

Charles was sensitive, artistic, a prince charming in all aspects. Being in close proximity to Arthur meant you spent some time with Charles, too, but those were few and far between and every time you were within five feet of Charles, you were reduced to a tongue-tied mess.

Regardless, Arthur insisted you come along to the celebrations after Charles' most recent win in Monaco.

"Charles knows who you are and you're my friend. He won't mind," Arthur pleaded earlier that day as you were packing up after the podium celebrations.

"What if you go running off and I'm left alone?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I won't go running off," Arthur promised. "I'll be with you the whole night. I'll even help you look for a guy you can go home with!"

And yet you're here in the present, sitting on a couch in the VIP section, alone.

Well, not really. You're surrounded by people but none of them are talking to you. Arthur had gone to get more drinks half an hour ago and you know by now that he probably was sidetracked by other friends or something to that effect.

You have half a mind to call it a night, your hand already reaching for your purse, when you hear a voice call out.

"________! You're here!"

You look up and your heart seems to jump right into your throat.

Charles is beaming down at you, a flag of Monaco draped around his shoulders, his previously styled hair now sticking up in all directions.

You caught a glimpse of Charles earlier when you arrived with Arthur, but the race winner was too busy doing shots for you to have properly said hi.

But he's here now. And he's sliding into the space beside you.

"Where's Arthur?" Charles asks, reaching for an unopened Heineken on the table in front of you.

"I have no idea," you half-yell, leaning closer so Charles could hear. You feel goosebumps erupt on your skin when Charles lays a tentative hand on your back.

"You can spend time with me, then," Charles grins, moving his arm further so it fully wraps around your shoulders.

A nervous laugh escapes you but your instinct is to lean even further into Charles' touch. He's still smiling at you, though clearly inebriated with the way his eyes seem out of focus.

"Ah, Oscar!"

You turn your head to see the other third of the podium finishers, Osar Piastri himself.

"Hey!" he calls over the din of the music. "I can't find anyone! I think they just abandoned me," Oscar adds, laughing.

He takes the seat on your left, effectively sandwiching you between him and Charles. You smile politely at Oscar, reaching your hand out.

"Hi, I'm ______," you say, smiling wider as Oscar takes your hand in his and squeezes.

"I'm Oscar," he says then pauses, realizing that you probably already knew who he was if you were any friend of Charles'. He laughs, practically giggles, hiding his face in his hand.

"Sorry, I see you around the paddock sometimes, so I probably didn't need to do that," Oscar explains, cheeks turning pink, or at least you think they do, given that the lighting in this club is atrocious.

Oscar is still holding your hand and you can tell that he's tipsy too by the way he's smiling, eyes hooded and sleepy-looking.

"________ is part of communications in Ferrari," Charles explains, rubbing his thumb over the exposed skin of your shoulder. You turn to look at Charles, and the way he gazes back at you, a half smile on his lips, breath hot on your cheek, has your heart pounding incessantly against your chest.

"She's very efficient," Charles praises with a chuckle. "I like seeing her around when she works."

You make a move to swat at Charles' thigh as if to tell him off. "Stop it, I'm not at enough races for you to see me that often."

You're laughing, mostly in disbelief at the words that just came out of Charles' mouth. He likes seeing you around?

Charles shrugs. "But when you are, I notice."

You feel your neck heat up and even more so when Charles maneuvers you closer, seemingly protective. If you moved any more, you'd be on Charles' lap.

Oscar eyes the two of you and you'd give anything to read the thoughts in his head right now. The younger man locks eyes with you and smiles, sweetly at first, but then his pupils glance down briefly at your chest, barely covered by the tube top you decided to don for the evening.

The sweetness quickly melts away as Oscar bites his lip.

"You're close, then?" Oscar asks casually, scooting closer to you and Charles.

"Arthur and her are good friends," Charles points out.

"So I guess by default, _______ and I are good friends, too."

You laugh and Oscar is grinning once more at you, and god does he look handsome under these lights. You can tell that he wants to come even closer, his fingers tapping nervously on his knee. Some slow song is playing over the speakers, bass loaded and making the entire place vibrate.

You reach out, laying a hand on Oscar's thigh, squeezing just enough to get the point across.

Oscar looks over at Charles and you follow his line of sight, seeing some sort of unspoken agreement cross the two drivers.

Charles dips his head, moving even closer to you. He breathes out right next to your ear and you shiver.

"Ma chèrie," he begins. "I think we need to take this somewhere else."

You turn to look at Charles, blood roaring in your ears. "What?"

Charles looks straight into your eyes as if searching for something. He rubs a soothing hand down your back, letting it settle on your waist.

"You want to, no?" Charles asks, momentarily glancing up at Oscar. "With me and him?"

You feel a rush of excitement course through you. Surely, this isn't happening. The idea of Charles bringing you home crossed your mind briefly the moment he touched you earlier, but that's as far as you allowed yourself to imagine. But the remnants of alcohol in your system and the intoxicating atmosphere of the club must have gotten to you with the way you so brazenly made a move on Oscar.

And now you reap what you sow.

"We can hang out at my place," Oscar throws out nonchalantly as if he was simply inviting you and Charles to more drinks at his apartment.

"I just moved in and it could use a little...housewarming," Oscar adds with a pointed look.

Charles bursts out laughing, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder before nuzzling into the side of your neck. You glance around, hyperaware that all eyes have been on Charles the whole night, and for sure it isn't any different now.

"Andiamo," Charles whispers. "We'll make it good."

Let's go. Your months of Italian as a prerequisite to working in Ferrari barely register with you now.

Oscar slips his own hand over your thigh, his large palm covering an expanse of your skin.

"You'll love the view from my balcony," Oscar offers, tilting his head towards you. He smiles, innocent and sweet once more, simultaneously squeezing at the flesh of your thigh.

You bite your lip, suppressing whatever sounds that threatened to come out.

-

You thought you'd never make it out of the car ride to Oscar's place.

Oscar had brought his own ride and being much, much more sober than both you and Charles, he took the initiative to drive. You and Charles piled into the backseat, giggling.

"Not fair, you guys," Oscar teased from the front, eyeing you through the rearview mirror. Charles merely snickers, hands sneaking up over your chest as you settle on his lap.

"Eyes on the road, Oscar," Charles ordered, yanking your top down, exposing yourself fully to Oscar. You gasped, the cold air of the air-conditioning lending to the stiffening of your nipples. Charles began to toy with them, pinching and rolling them between his fingers, reducing you to a speechless mess. You noticed just how hard Oscar was gripping the steering wheel, tight enough that his knuckles were drained of color.

You barely had time to cover yourself back up once you got to Oscar's place, with Charles tugging you out of the car as soon as Oscar killed the ignition. The younger of the two comes around to your side of the car as you and Charles stumble out. Oscar takes your hand in his and leans down briefly to kiss you, tongue darting out to lick at the seam of your lips.

Oscar pulls away, sending Charles a look. "I was on the podium, too, mate."

"Ah, sorry Oscar," Charles says lightheartedly. "Sharing isn't really my strong suit. But for her, I will try."

Charles lands a smack on your ass, the sound loud enough to make you flinch. You involuntarily whine at the sting, tripping over your feet a bit. Oscar steadies you, laughing along with Charles.

"We're gonna have so much fun with you, chèrie," Charles teases, kissing your cheek.

The elevator ride is even worse. Or better. You can't decide.

It's just the three of you, and you're backed up into the corner, Charles being the handsier of the two, creeping both hands up your sides, his knee pushing between your legs.

"Ch-Charles, not here," you manage to warn. He increases the pressure against your core, grinning as he watches you shiver.

Oscar watches from the side, arms crossed, leaning casually against the elevator wall. You meet his gaze and he winks, smiling languidly just as Charles kisses down the side of your neck.

Soon enough, the elevator doors open and you push Charles away, startled to see a pair of middle-aged women waiting on the other side. You hurry past them out into the hallway, following Oscar who saunters down towards the end with an easy step.

"Right here," Oscar declares, unlocking a door at the very end. Charles guides you inside just as Oscar turns the light on.

The living room is spacious, with a single couch and coffee table occupying it. A deep blue rug breaks the cream flooring. Past the receiving area is the dining and kitchen, set against floor-to-ceiling windows, a staple of Monegasque apartments, as you've come to figure out. A hallway veers to the right.

"You weren't kidding about the view," you comment, taking in the night sky and the sprawling harbor.

Oscar turns back to you, and only now do you get a good look at him. The first three buttons of his shirt undone, his hair the right kind of messy, and his eyes, darker than what you're used to.

"The view in here is just as good," Oscar replies, eyes raking over your body. He reaches out, a hand resting on your waist.

"May I?" Charles whispers from behind you, tugging down the zip of your skirt. He gets it open and you let it fall to your feet, kicking it off to the side.

"So pretty," Charles adds, kissing along your upper back. Oscar hikes your top up and you let him pull it over your head, leaving you bare, save for your panties.

"I could see your tits through your shirt the whole night," Oscar comments, pointer fingers ghosting over your nipples. "Imagined what they might look like."

You gasp, leaning further back into Charles. You had no idea Oscar had that kind of mouth on him.

It turned you on to no end.

"Better than what you imagined?" You breathe out, Charles' fingers making their way over your mound, pressing over the wet spot on your underwear.

"Chèrie, you're so wet," Charles curses, rubbing you through the thin fabric. "Will you let me get a taste of you, hm?"

You nod frantically, already buckling under the lightest of touch from both men. You can only imagine how pathetic you look right now, stripped bare, with them still fully clothed.

"We should move this to the room," Oscar offers, delivering a final pinch to both of your nipples. You yelp as Oscar chuckles darkly, taking your hand in his.

It hasn't even fully started and you're already made to do the walk of shame.

Oscar's walls are still mostly bare but you feel exposed somehow, shivering despite the fairly warm temperature. He leads you and Charles to the door at the end of the hall, stepping inside while undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt.

You're met with large double doors on one side of the room, leading to, what you can only assume, is a large balcony.

"We can do it with a view, amour," Charles says, wrapping both arms around your waist.

Oscar shrugs his shirt off and you watch as his muscles flex beneath his skin, taut and defined.

"We sure can," Oscar agrees, flinging the doors to his balcony open. The cool night breeze blows past your face and you sigh, heart rate picking up even more.

Charles gently maneuvers you closer to the open doors and your hands start to clam up. Shit, are you really doing this?

"W-Wait," you mutter. "Won't anyone see?"

Oscar approaches you, pointer finger hooking into your underwear. He tugs at it harshly, yanking it halfway off.

"We don't have to do it outside if you don't want to," Oscar says, voice low. He looks at Charles. "Don't wanna get kicked out after I've just moved in."

Charles snickers. "The bed is right there. We'll leave the doors open and let them hear you, instead."

And it's true. The bed is directly in front of the balcony doors, moonlight spilling onto Oscar's navy blue sheets. Oscar grabs fully at your soiled panties now, ripping them clean off.

You gasp, but any shock is melted away when you see Oscar ball up the torn fabric in his hand, bringing it closer to your face. He raises his eyebrows as if questioning you.

"Yes? No?" He asks, tapping beneath your chin. It clicks a little late what Oscar is asking of you but you nod, parting your lips.

Oscar grins, pushing your panties into your mouth.

Fuck.

You hear the metal clang of a belt being unbuckled behind you, followed by the crinkle of fabric as Charles lets his pants and underwear pool around his ankles.

"You and I are going to have so much fun with her, no, Oscar?" Charles asks, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Oscar undoes the button of his pants as well. "Yes, we are."

"How do you want to do this, baby?" Charles addresses you, taking hold of your hips. "Tell us."

"And maybe if you're good, we'll give you what you want," Oscar adds, a hand sliding up your chest before resting around your neck. Your breath hitches as you feel Oscar test the waters, squeezing lightly.

"Oh, wait," Charles laughs condescendingly. "She can't talk."

There's a glint in Oscar's eyes as he adds pressure around your neck. "Guess we have to decide for her then."

You whimper, arms reaching out to wrap around Oscar's own neck. He smiles at you, almost warmly, but you can still see the bubbling desire in his irises.

"You can take the gag out any time you want," Oscar instructs softly, releasing your neck. You take in a big breath through your nose.

"And if you don't like anything we're doing, say 'Monte Carlo'," Oscar adds. He nods at Charles and you feel yourself being pulled backward.

"Get on the bed," Charles commands and you scramble to do so, crawling over the mattress before turning around and laying back on your elbows.

Charles and Oscar eye you intently and you're tempted to cover yourself, but with how they've been acting the whole night, you're not sure how that would be received.

"You wanna go first?" Oscar nudges Charles lightly. The Monegasque grins widely like a kid on Christmas.

"Oh, yes," Charles concedes, getting on the bed with you. He scoots down so his face is level with your cunt.

"Hold tight, my love," Charles says before licking a thick stripe up your core. Your whole body jerks and you cry around the gag in your mouth.

Charles continues to work on your dripping pussy, alternating between flicking against your clit and circling your hole. You moan and whine and whimper, eyes tearing up as you look pleadingly at Oscar.

"Look at you," Oscar laughs. "We've barely done anything."

Charles spreads your legs even wider, licking even deeper. You're fully crying now, the buildup proving too much as you feel your body shake at your approaching orgasm.

Oscar reaches over and toys with your boobs, brushing over your nipples just the way you like it. Without warning, Oscar dips his head down and takes one in his mouth, circling the nub with his own tongue.

The added sensation nearly drives you crazy. The pressure builds rapidly inside you and you're left incoherent as you beg without words.

Not yet, fuck, I can't cum that fast–

You twitch and involuntarily press your pussy harshly against Charles' mouth as you come undone, toes curling and body seizing up. Oscar pulls away and watches as you throw your head back, fingers twisting into the sheets.

"Already?" You hear Charles' voice through the ringing in your ears. "You must really want it."

You blink through your tears, momentarily confused as you see Oscar reach for your face. You cough as you feel the dry fabric being pulled out from your mouth. Oscar tosses your ruined underwear to the side.

"I think she deserves a reward for getting there so fast," Oscar suggests, turning to Charles.

"Which one do you want a taste of first? You get to pick, sweetheart," Oscar says, wiping a stray line of drool dripping down the side of your mouth.

"Ch-Charles," you croak, throat still dry.

Charles and Oscar share a curt nod and the former moves to the head of the bed.

"Hands and knees, my love," Charles orders and you follow, getting on all fours. He settles against the headboard, leaning back as you take his cock in your hand.

"Guess you want me here, then?" Oscar says from behind you. You turn to peek over your shoulder to see Oscar stroking languidly at his cock, one of his hands coming down to spread your ass apart.

"Fuck, this view," Oscar hisses, smacking your ass once.

"I reckon, you don't need me to prep you? I can just–"

You shriek as you feel Oscar push in without warning, and though it was a surprise, the obscene amount of arousal coming from your cunt aids in the stretch that Oscar's cock brings.

He fully sheathes himself inside and he groans, grabbing your hips with both hands.

"Chèrie." Charles' voice forces your attention back to him.

"Don't forget about me, hm?"

You try to compose yourself as best as you can as Oscar starts to fuck you at a relentless pace. You lower your mouth down to Charles' cock, wrapping your lips around the tip.

You take half of him in, coating him in your spit, going lower each time you come down. Charles is nearly as incoherent as you were earlier, curse words in three different languages falling from his lips.

You feel the tip of his cock reach the back of your throat and you stop, gagging around it. Charles threads his fingers through your hair, yanking you back up.

"Open your mouth," Charles says, tightening the grip on your hair.

You do as you're told and Charles angles himself better. He holds you in place as he fucks up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat each time. You will your breathing to slow, but the constant assault on your pussy muddles your brain and destroys your focus.

"She's so fucking tight," Oscar says through gritted teeth. You can feel his nails dig into your sides.

"Here as well," Charles agrees. "So warm and so wet."

All you can do is sob as you let the two of them use you, filled up on both sides, reduced to nothing but two holes.

"Fuck, I wanna cum on her face," Oscar says hurriedly, hips slowing down, probably in an attempt to keep his orgasm at bay.

Charles pulls you back off of him and he surveys you for a second.

"And I'll do it inside," Charles says. "Will you let me cum inside, chèrie?"

You nod, unconsciously clenching around Oscar. He curses, speeding up his movements again.

"Mate, I can't take it anymore," Oscar rushes, pulling out. You whine at the loss but Charles is quick to get off the bed, replacing Oscar's place behind you.

You feel the Charles' tip press against your hole and you plead, rocking back, desperate to be filled up.

"Charles, please, n-need your cum in me," you stutter. "Wanna be filled up, I need it, need you, please–"

Charles slides in one swift motion and your eyes roll all the way back in your head. He's thicker than Oscar and the stretch is almost painful but in the best way possible.

The older of the two wastes no time and starts pounding into you, rendering you speechless at how brutal his pace is. You're dizzy with arousal, spit and tears mixing on your chin and cheeks.

"Look here, sweetheart," comes Oscar's voice, rough around the edges, his hand cupping your chin.

He's stroking his cock at an impossible pace, bottom lip caught between his teeth. You look straight into his eyes as you stick your tongue out, waiting for him to release all over you.

"Fuck, you really are desperate for it," Oscar sneers, gripping harder at your face. "Open wide."

A warm spurt of liquid shoots straight onto your tongue, landing on your cheeks as well. You squint as it hits nearer to your eyes but you obediently lick up everything you can from your lips, swallowing Oscar's thick cum down.

"Oh god, baby," Charles warns. "Je vais bientôt jouir–"

Charles presses you closer to him, caging your hips against his own. He groans and you feel him twitch within you. You clench down as hard as you can around him, earning your hair a harsh tug from behind. Charles yanks you back against him as he gives a few more thrusts to ride his orgasm out.

"We are not done with you yet, amour," Charles warns.

Oscar's face comes into view and he's eyeing you up and down, his thumb swiping at a stain of himself on your cheek. He brings it to your lips and you lick his digit clean.

"Good girl," Oscar praises. "But he's right. You can give us a few more, right?"

You swallow.

You nod.

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #cl16 #op81 #charles leclerc x reader #oscar piastri x reader