#entirely possible im talking out my ass here.

[synthient]

Thinking about the casting of Smith as east asian in the dance show, and whether that's supposed to be a piece of "race blind" casting, or a choice with actual thematic/symbolic weight. In the movies, the idea of the Oracle as his "mom" does potentially imply a mixed-race, white-passing Smith - in ways that could intersect with the closet and masking subtext, but that I've been reluctant to lean into as much, if only because I'm white/the wachowskis are white/both smith actors are white. Given how much the animatrix machines-as-oppressed-group backstory is emphasized in the dance show, I almost wonder if the casting is supposed to evoke a Smith who's racialized in line with that oppression narrative, but can still access conditional privilege via violence against "more" racialized people like Morpheus

#entirely possible im talking out my ass here. #but it is interesting to see a matrix adaptation where several of the co creators are poc after the whiteness of the franchise up to now #the matrix

[sohya]

sweat it out

-> f!reader x aoi todo

-> 3.7k words

-> gym workout talk. spit play. impact play. oral. big dick. size difference. possibly ooc todo. creampie.

-> last attempt. if fuckass tumblr hides it again im gonna p** myself and not in a good way

tagging: @suyacho

“oh, hey, lil cub. what’s on for today?”

there’s only one person in the entire world who calls you ‘lil cub’, and it isn’t even in a demeaning way. everyone is little compared to a giant brute like aoi, but for some reason, he’d adopted you with ‘cub’ after the title.

you look up from your spot by your pigeonhole to see aoi walking over to you. built torso, thick thighs and hair tied up into a bun like it’s his signature look. while the exposed skin on his chest is tantalizing to look at, the real treat comes from the gymshark shorts he wears that does nothing to hide the bulge in between his legs. 

“just arms for today,” you look away lest you get caught staring at the most vulnerable part of your gym partner. “something short and quick.”

so you can get you and your ovulating self out of his presence sooner. 

“great. i’ll spot you.” he grins as he rests a heavy hand down on your shoulder. like the rest of him, it’s huge and you engage your core to right yourself when his palm tilts you to the side. 

you let out a chuckle as you shrug his hand off to slip your hoodie off before stuffing it into your designated box. you’ve stopped feeling bad about taking him away from his workouts, given he’s always been insistent on helping you and to be honest, a man like him doesn’t need to be lifting weights every second of his life anyways. that and you actually appreciate the tips he gives you, at least that’s what you tell yourself. 

as you follow after him, his longer legs making him advance in front of you, your eyes fall to his bubble ass that doesn't hide just how he really takes the workouts for every part of his body seriously. you look up to the ceiling, your fingers fumbling with the handle of your water bottle as your womanly instincts kick in. 

“actually, aoi,” he looks back at you, a curious eyebrow raised, “i might work on my glutes today. it’s been a while.” 

you could’ve sworn his eyes flicked down to your thighs at that very moment but anyone else would probably tell you it was just a blink. “i think that’s a great idea, lil cub.” 

you’re stern in telling aoi that you won’t be here for long so he curates a shorter workout for you to do. hip thrusts are first and you attempt to put on a show for your personal spectator, grunting as you exert your strength to push the barbell up into the air, then sighing softly as you lower your hips again. there’s brazen interest in his eyes when you look up at him in between your second and third set but he doesn’t entertain you with anything, taking his role as a personal trainer seriously.

but like it’s some sort of punishment for you, he increases the weights by 10kg in the last set, causing you to struggle with the last rep with clenched teeth and a sound that sounds like too much of a moan than a sound of struggle. as soon as he helps you off the machine he gives you a high five and the image of his hand dwarfing yours has your dizzy mind straightening up immediately.

“good girl.” he completely skips over the unnecessary praise. “that’s the hardest one done. three more to go.” 

having aoi as your unofficial personal trainer is truly beneficial, you have to admit. having someone like him encouraging you to increase your weights and praising you has your mentality going haywire, because it feeds into your act of making sounds that should have his resolve cracking by now. 

aoi comes back holding two 10kg dumbbells. “you’re doing great, lil cub,” he praises as he hands places the weights down by your feet for you to pick up yourself, following gym safety regulations. “rdls for the last set, 12 reps but i want you to hold the last one for 10 seconds.”

his nose crinkles when he laughs at your glare. “you wanna go a weight lower then?”

you wipe the sweat off the bridge of your nose if only to hide your face from him for a short second before you shake your head, “no, i think i can do it.” you bend down to pick the weights up before standing into the correct posture. shoulders tight, core engaged and your feet shoulder width apart. 

a quick scan through the mirror at the rest of the gym makes you realize you two are the only ones left in the premises. which is the only reason you’re confident enough to say what you’re about to say. “it has been a while though. do you mind helping with my form?” you indulge him with a sultry gaze through your lashes.

as if he recognises what you’re doing, aoi steps closer and rests a hand on the small of your back. “‘course, lil cub. that’s what i’m here for, no?”

you barely even finish the second set. 

exactly twenty two minutes later, you’re stumbling down the hallway of aoi’s apartment, the faux promise of him giving you your last workout at his place in the back of your mind as your lips clash together in a hungry duel for each other’s taste.

“i have to warn you, though, lil cub.” he says in between desperate kisses before he bursts into his bedroom. “i’m big. like really big.” you pull back to see nothing but pure honesty in his eyes. none of the smugness that would usually come from a guy warning their potential partner about the gigantic size of their dick. “so, if you want to tap out, no hard feelings.”

the warning doesn’t serve as one to you, if anything it only makes you more excited and inclines you to press your stomach up against his crotch. if the weight of it is anything to go by, you can already feel your walls lubricating itself up with your arousal. “that’s not very pt of you,” you taunt, hands grazing down to the hem of his matching gymshark t-shirt. you pull it over his head to rid him of the clothing, “i thought i was here for my last set.”

eager to stump your confidence, aoi picks you up with a strong arm wrapped around your waist. your feet hang in the air as the top of your head hits the ceiling, only possible given his height. “then take these off.” he pinches at your loose t-shirt and you fumble to pull it off your head. 

the second the first sliver of your skin is exposed, aoi’s mouth descends onto it, pressing kisses along your skin and warming your entire body through it. his tongue darts out to lick your skin, still salty from your workout, before it travels up to your chest once you remove your sports bra. he groans into you before he closes his lips on your soft stomach, sucking your skin and licking what hasn’t been cleaned off with his spit. 

aoi’s eyes, which had been previously closed as he cleaned off the ambrosia left on your skin, flutters open to see you staring down at him, clear desperation in your eyes, your brows furrowed and mouth opened to breathe heavy pants into the air. he groans. “fuck no, i can’t wait anymore.”

you’re quickly dropped down, yelping and grabbing onto whatever body part of his on your way down before your knees land on the floor without the pain and his hands supporting you under your arms. you look up at him, his monstrous height making him feel like he’s triple your size. 

but that’s not what you’re focused on. what grabs your attention is his hand disappearing into his shorts, shuffling inside before he grunts out a sound of annoyance and his other fist yanks his shorts down. like a cinematic piece, you watch as his hand draws out his cock, which had been tucked into the right side of his boxers, out of the restriction of his shorts that falls down to pool around his feet. 

half-hard, as thick as the circumference of your clenched fist and a generous 10 inches, you almost tear up at the sight. dripping pre-cum from the slit glistens like a crystal chandelier under the light. heavy balls that you want to smother your face into. nothing could compare to this. you’re struck with awe like you’re witnessing the 8th wonder of the world. 

you let out a sigh and aoi grins, runs his large thumb down the length of his cock, which droops down due its weight, before it runs off the tip of his head and springs up to slap your chin. “close your mouth before you start to drool.” he says with a loud laugh. “actually, no. keep it open.” he prods the tip of his cock against your slightly parted lips, urging him to slip his cock into your hot mouth. 

“it’ll fit,” he promises as if he can see the panic in your eyes, “just let me get the angle right.”

your lips burn as they stretch to accommodate the thick girth of him at the halfway point. at this point is when your eyes start tearing up, another inch and those tears are slipping down your cheeks as your head tilts back for him to descend his hips onto your face. another inch and he’s three quarters of the way while you gag violently around him. a deep inhale through your nose has you recollecting yourself before your source of air is cut off when he hilts himself into your mouth and your nostrils fill up with the soft curls on his pelvis. 

your eyes blink open before snapping shut when they catch a glimpse of his pursed lips and the feeling of his warm spit landing at your eyes warms your face.

“ah- just missed it.” aoi tsks before pulling his cock halfway out before thrusting it back in. his head tips back at the glorious sound of you gagging and choking around his intrusion and subjects you to a few minutes of some brutal and honest face fucking. by the time he pulls out, your shorts and thighs are stained with spit and precum, tits dripping with the same mixture and the lower part of your face dampened in filth. 

“you always make me so proud, lil cub.” he praises but demeans you at the same time with harsh taps to the side of your face, which probably wasn’t his intention but inevitable given the heaviness of his hands. “so pretty.” he compliments as he examines your state.

you whine as you fidget in your spot, hands moving to spread the wetness all over yourself. “a-aoi. c’mon.”

“you wanna get played with, huh, cub?” he hums, his hands cupping the side of your head and tilting your skull around, marveling at how your eyes follow him no matter which way he turns your head. “need something to sweat out, hm?”

he grunts as he bends down, slots an arm between your thighs and hooks you up from your crotch. you yelp when he spins you around so your head is dangling along with his dick. your tongue peaks out to grace it with a kitten lick before your mouth falls open when aoi’s face smothers itself into your wet shorts. 

“you smell so nice, cub.” he huffs. if his dick struggling to fit in your mouth hadn’t made you aware of the drastic size difference between the two of you, then having his face pressed right into your cunt would do it for you. tightening your legs around his head doesn’t sway him from sucking a wet spot into the fabric where your hole would be, instead it just holds him there and doesn’t deter him from your pussy. 

with careful hands, because he knows you’re still sane enough to scold him at one wrong move, he places you down on the bed and pulls your shorts and thin panties off. he flings the latter off to the side, making sure it slips between his bedside drawer and the wall so you’ll give up looking for it when you inevitably leave. 

with your entire body now bare, he buries himself in between your thighs, your sore muscles granted reprieve by relaxing against his warm shoulders as opposed to floating in the air.

“beautiful fucking pussy,” he groans into your folds, “i could drink you up.” 

the words you would have replied with die in your mouth when aoi dips his tongue into your hole, making a show of closing his lips around your opening and slurping the juices that coat his tongue. he’s relentless in the way his entire mouth covers pussy, the heat emanating from him making your toes curl all while your hands fly to the loose bun on his head to hold him still. he’s purposely avoiding your clit and you can tell because his head’s at an awkward position where he’s close enough for his mouth to encompass your heat but the tip of his nose avoids rubbing against your clit, making the warm breaths he’s exhaling into your bud warm your body up even further. 

his tongue works in lapping everything you have to offer, dark eyes zoning in on your expression that you don’t hide away from. your head is tilted up to look at him but every flick of his tongue inside you has your eyes rolling back and your mouth opening in a silent scream. 

but aoi’s patience only runs for so long and as much as he’d love to die and suffocate himself in your pussy, the ache of his rock hard cock chafing against the fabric of his mattress has him going insane. without a word to disrupt his momentum, he pulls his tongue out and closes his mouth around your clit, sucking on it hard enough for your back to arch and your heels to kick at his back. he holds you down with a heavy hand while the other sinks two fingers into your dripping heat. “ah… wait, aoi, nnh! i c-can’t–” you gasp, words falling out of your mind when your stomach begins to warm up as a hint of your impending orgasm.

he ignores your sounds in favor of each thrust that he drags out, focusing on curling his fingers upwards and running against the roof of your walls. you full on go lightheaded when he pulls his fingers out halfway before ramming it back inside, the tips of his fingers rubbing against your walls in a come hither motion on repeat causing your orgasm to wash over you. your mind blanks in what you can only describe as the best climax from getting head you’ve ever had. only thing you can hear and feel is aoi groaning into you as your juices flood into his mouth. 

the loud suckling noises don’t cease your orgasm in any way, if anything it makes it last what feels like an eternity before you come down, twitching and whining into the air. your lungs work in overdrive trying to gather air back into it but you’re not given the chance to properly recover when aoi’s face hovers above yours. only then do you realize the tingling in your pussy was from the aftershocks of your orgasm and not the feeling of his mouth overstimulating you. something in your mind feels disappointed about the fact.

satisfied with how quickly relaxed you become, aoi eases three fingers inside you, watching with a smug grin when you wince at the stretch of the third finger’s addition. “gotta stretch you out some more, cub. as much as it’d be nice to see you cry even more for me,” he pauses to lick the embarrassing streak of tears down your cheeka, “it’s not gonna be good for you in the long run.” 

“ahh– i can- i can take it.” you push on, grinding your hips against his knuckles to ease another finger inside. 

“i’m sure you can. my little cub knows how to push herself.” he says as he pulls his fingers out. aoi’s eyes grow dark as they encourage your gaze to stay on his, entire attention focused on him that you only realize what he’s distracting you from when the blunt head of his cock pushes into your hole and makes no move in slowing to accommodate you. “but it’s more for my sake, so your tight pussy doesn’t cut my dick off before i even get myself inside.”

and just like that, you’re forced to take it. him pushing his hips further and further down while his huge cock positively splits you open. the silence is disturbed with your pants and moans of his name that flood out in a series of babbles that would’ve been incoherent if aoi wasn’t slipping into the same state of fucked out bliss like you were. 

“there we go,” he says after another agonizing few seconds, you can just make out the press of his balls against your ass when he looks down at you. his hands are cupped on the juncture between your neck and shoulders and you don’t get the time to wonder why when he uses his hold on you as leverage to pull his hips back and slam back into you, quickly building a rapid pace that has you screaming with nothing to ground you but the thin bed sheets that are threatening to rip apart in your fists. 

“a-aoi. i- n’ver been fuc-fugged this good,” you wail, being forced to take his brutal thrusts with how his hold on you doesn’t allow you to fidget up the mattress.

the compliment doesn’t fly over aoi’s head as he grins and leans down to lick at your open mouth, your tongue immediately flicking out for him to crudely lap at before he purses his lips and hacks a glob of spit onto your awaiting tongue. “yeah i can tell, cub. and you’ll never get anyone to fuck you this good again.” he says like it’s a promise.

like some cringy monologue, he gives a deranged speech with the sound of his hips slapping against yours as background music. “been wanting to fuck you since the very first day.” he releases one hand from your shoulder to decorate your thigh with a hard slap, “wanted to break you since then. didn’t think i’d get there because of how head plap fucking plap strong plap you are, but look at you now.” he sneers in a menacing look but he purses his lips and lands another serving of spit onto your barely open eyes. he chuckles breathlessly when your tongue makes a useless attempt to lick at the added warm puddle on your face. “my broken little fucktoy.” he praises demeaningly.

“aoi.” you breathe his name out like it’s the only sound you can make on top of the pathetic “nnh- don’t stop, please don’t stop. it’s too much… pl-please gimme more–”

in his mind, aoi promises to give you nothing if not more.

“you wan’ more, huh, cub? you think i have more to give you?” he returns his hand by your hip to your face, smothering you and mixing the mess of spit and sweat into your skin, “i’m over here wrecking your precious little cunt and you’re still asking for more? what more could you possibly want?”

“you– your cum… please aoi.” your mind has some semblance to come up with a logical answer quickly which doesn’t satify aoi as much as it should. without warning he pulls out and flips you around and rams his cock back inside you before you even get the chance to whine.

“let this be the arm workout you would’ve done today.” he bites into your earlobe as he speaks, hunching over you and pressing his sweaty chest against your just as sweaty back. “keep yourself up and then i’ll flood your stomach with my cum.” he promises before standing up on his knees, his hands tightly gripping your hips, he leans back and uses that momentum to thrust his hips upwards, cock slamming into you with no reprieve for you whatsoever. 

keeping his words in mind, you mindlessly babble your gratefulness to him as your arms wobble but stubbornly force yourself to stay up. it isn’t long until the head of his cock meeting your sensitive spot overwhelms you, your body tightening up and your arms feeling like jelly as you squeeze around his cock in an orgasm that you can’t hold back no matter how hard you try. “cumming, aoi. ‘mgumming!” you groan as your eyes flutter shut, body pretty much going lax at the powerful orgasm. 

“keep your head up.” he takes a hand to cup your neck from the front, forcing your head upwards in a dangerous bend. “got so much fucking tighter, fucking sshh-it.” he grunts, granting you one two three more thrusts before his hips ram into you, cock expanding and deflating while warm cum fills up your inside. you almost swear you can feel it filling your womb up, a special place in your stomach that desperately drinks his cum like it has a mind of it’s own.

the room is filled with tired sounds of disbelief as you come down from your high. aoi is stock still, palming your ass as he throbs minutely inside you. he lands a harsh spank on your ass, causing you to yelp and fall to your face when your arms give out underneath you.

grunting his displeasure, he presses a hand down the small of your back as his hips rear back, ready to subject you to another round of his cock damaging your insides. “aoi… gimme a… sec…hah… i can’t–” you hide your face in your hands with a small wail, sanity crumbling with every slap from aoi’s hard hips to your softer in comparison ass cheeks.

his hand cups your throat again, squeezing it as a warning as he pulls you up to your hands again. “no, cub. i told you to keep yourself up. we’re not done for today until we do three more sets of this.” he grins at your whine as his hips pick up even more momentum. “what kind of gym buddy would i be if i didn’t push you to your limits, hm?”

#mon's words #todo smut #todo x reader #aoi todo smut #aoi todo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Wet Dreamz - Matt Sturniolo

Summary: based off the song wet dreamz by J. Cole idk if you need a summary just listen to the song :) takes place in matt’s pov the entire story!!

Warnings: Smut, masterbation,loss of virginity, Highschool matt (he’s 18)x 18yr old, POC!Reader

A/n: i was listening to this song and i immediately thought of matt, cause chris wouldn’t be nervous, matt would be! TELL ME HOW YALL LIKE THISSS!!

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

“First time, she was in my math class, Long hair, brown skin with the fat ass”

Today was a normal day in mrs.Melvins math class, i walk in to my assigned seat in the back of the class, that’s when i noticed the seat next to mine that was usally empty had the most beautiful woman in it.

“hi! i’m Y/N! i just moved here from California!”

her words were like serotonin for me, she had the biggest smile on her face when i sat down next to her, she was fucking beautiful. a literal goddess sent from god himself. i had to know her.

“hey! i’m uh im matt! i uh live here.. but you probably knew that considering i go to school here…” fuck matthew you’re an idiot.. she knows you fucking live here how stupid could you be.

she giggles “you’re funny, matt”

i was caught by surprise by her complement, i was a total fool and she thought i was funny?

“oh i um.. thank you” i return her smile nervously

“mr.sturniolo and ms.Y/L/N, continue talking and i’ll separate you” Mrs. Melvin Spoke harshly, we both looked at each other and smiles.

“Sat beside me, used to laugh, had mad jokes The teacher always got mad, so we passed notes”

“is she always this mean? lol” Y/N’s note she passed me read as she pretended to pay attention with a cute cheeky smile on her lips, her plump lips, fuck matt you’re staring. i quickly turned away and wrote the note back to her.

“never to me, i happen to be her favorite you know” with a little winky face written next to it i pass the note back and she opens it and grins at me and playfully rolls her eyes.

our note passing lasted the rest of class, we weren’t even paying attention to Mrs.Melvin’s class, i can’t even remember what the lesson was about, i couldn’t get her out of my head.

“It started off so innocent She had a vibe and i started diggin' it, uh I was a youngin, straight crushin', tryna play the shit cool”

she always kept lookin at me with those sweet innocent eyes, with a beautiful smile on her face, her dimples on her cheeks every time she smiles at me. i need her in every way possible. i’ve never been in love this deep before. i’m so whipped and obsessed and i haven’t even hung out with her besides school.

“But i couldn't wait to get to school cause when I seen Them thighs on her and them hips on her and them lips on her Got me daydreamin', man, what”

the day ended and as i was driving my brothers home, not even paying attention to nick and chris arguing over little shit i didn’t even care to know about, all i was thinking about was her. my thoughts were interrupted by chris screaming in my ear

“MATTHEW… HELLO?!” chris yelled

“hm? what” i respond

“who’s got you so wrapped up in thought” nick uses his index finger to poke my shoulder

“no one, fuck off im just tired” i roll my eyes and continue to drive home

“I'm thinkin' how she rides on it, if she sits on it, if she licks on it”

As i got home the only thing i could fucking imagine is her beautiful plump lips on my cock, sucking me off and cumming on her beautiful face. i can feel the growing aching pain of a boner in my jeans as i’m laying in bed.

i slowly removed my pants and pull out my aching cock and start stroking up and down and immediately start groaning and rolling my eyes back in the back of my head.

“mmf, fuckkk Y/N” a small whimper leaves my lips as my cock starts twitching in my own hand imagining that it was her hand stroking my dick, cum shoots out of me spilling all over my hand and a loud groan comes out of my mouth.

“as time goes by Attractions gettin' deep and Wet dreamin', thinkin' that I'm smashin' but I'm sleepin', I want it bad And I ain't never been obsessed before”

i woke up with a huge wet stain in my underwear and on my sleep pants from my cum staining as i dreamt about her moaning and whimpering underneath me, me making her cum all over my dick, watching her legs shake from my dick sliding in and out of her repeatedly, her screaming my name over and over again, wishing i could just pound my cock

“FUCK” i groan loudly. i should be embarrassed im having wet dreams about this girl. i need to straighten up before i fuck this up.

“She wrote a note that said, “You ever had sex before?” Damn…”

i stopped in my tracks reading this, i looked over at her smiling up at mrs.marvins math class acting as if she’s “paying attention” with her innocent eyes and innocent smile. i wasn’t about to tell her i was a virgin. out of all the guys here in this school, me? i mean ive had a girlfriend but normally the girls go for chris, never me.

“I wrote back and said "Of course I had sex before," knowin' I was frontin' I said, "I'm like a pro, baby," knowin' I was stuntin But if I told the truth, I knew that I'd get played out, son Hadn't been in pussy since the day I came out one”

fuck, matt you’re so stupid, i fuckin hope she ain’t suspect i’m a virgin… i slid the note back to her with a soft smile on my face with panic on the inside of myself.

she smiles at my note and giving me a small wink before picking up her pink pen and writing something down and smiling and shooting me a wink before passing it back to me.

“She don't know that, so she done wrote back and told me "Oh, you a pro, homie? Well, I want you to show me My mama gone for the weekend So Saturday, baby, we can get to freakin'." That's when my heart start racin' and my body start sweatin'”

my fingers that are wrapped around my pencil were tapping my pencil on my desk nervously, there’s no way this is real… Y/N? me? no fuckin way… i’m prayin i don’t wake up from this dream if this is real.

i had to play this cool.

‘don’t fuck this up matthew’ was the only thing repeating in my head.

“i wrote back like "Yeah, baby, sound like a plan." Still tryna play it cool, sound like the man But I was scared to death, my stomach turnin' Talkin' shit, knowin' damn well I was a virgin, fuck”

the boner being restrained from my jeans is making me hard to focus, hard to breathe, i can’t even think of anything else other then how she looks beneath me making every sound escape her mouth because of me, because of my dick, but fuck she gonna find out i’m a virgin eventually.

“Yeah, you know that feelin' when you Know you finna bone for the first time? I'm hopin' that she won't notice it's my first time I'm hopin' that my shit is big enough to fuck wit' And most of all I'm prayin', "God, don't let me bust quick" I'm watchin' pornos, tryna see just how to stroke right Practice puttin' condoms on-how it go? Right”

i’ve been sitting in my room for about 4 hours trying to put some condoms on right, watching every porn video that was on the feed, trying to figure out positions, how to thrust my hips the right way, how to eat pussy, how to do everything right so she don’t suspect i’m a virgin, man i really want this to go well.

“yo bro you’ve been in there for fucking ever are you ever coming out” chris yells on the other side of my locked door.

“i just wanted a nap with no interruptions leave me alone” i lie with my dick in one hand and my phone in the other hand.

ive been at this for hours. i can’t fuck this up. i don’t want her to have a fake orgasm with me, that would be embarrassing as hell, i need this to be better then good for her. i can’t duck this up.

“I'm in her crib, now a palm sweatin' With a pocket full of rubbers and an erection”

“hi matty” she opens the door for me and smiles

“hi Y/N” i smile back at her walking in.

she takes my hand and drags me to her room decorated in her favorite artist and her favorite books sitting so perfectly on her bookshelf.

she pushes me down on her bed that was freshly made up and smelled like her, she straddles me sitting directly on my hard cock.

“you’re so beautiful” i smile looking up at her laying over me

she giggles “thank you”

she leans in and kisses me passionately, i use my hand and rub her thigh and squeeze a little before moving up to her hips and moving them hips looking for some sort of friction on my pressing hard cock.

“That's when my hands start touchin' and her face start blushin' And i roll over on top and then she Get my pants unbuckled and her hands start rubbin”

i softly groan at her hands now rubbing up and down on my cock with a smile on her face

“fuckkk Y/N” i grin

she smiles so innocently looking up at me with lust and excitement in her eyes. man i could bust like this. so fucking quick.

“it's time for action Pull out the condoms real smooth, yeah, just how I practiced But right before I put it in, she flinched and grabbed it and said "I wanna get somethin' off my mental I can tell you're a pro, but baby, be gentle, ‘cause—"

i was in utter shock, she was a virgin too? no fuckin way, i smile down at her and nod as i slowly push my cock in her tight hole

“god damn ma, you are so fuckin tight” i groan softly in her ear

“mpfh- matt please move” she says in a whimper almost

i slowly start thrusting in and out of her and a slight faster pace and holy fuck i’ve never been in this amount of pleasure before. i was in a state of euphoria

my pace quickens and i start groaning uncontrollably in her ear as she moans in mine

“matt im close” she whispers out with a loud pornographic moan as she releases all over my cock creating a ring around the base of my cock.

“fuck me too” my thrusts become sloppy as i pull out and finish in the condom.

we both crash besides each other and she looks at me and smiles with her deep brown eyes, i can’t lie to her anymore.

“can i be honest about something Y/N?” i say softly turning over on my side to look at her.

she turns over to her side so we’re facing each other “i mean you just took my virginity so you can say anything matt” she smiles

“good cause i ain’t never did this before…” i smile softly hopelessly panicking on the inside scared she might get mad.

she smiles at me softly and kisses my lips and i smile into her lips.

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

A/N pt 2 SO HERES THIS!!! LEMME KNOW HOW YALL LIKE IT! tysm to @ribread03 FOR HELPING ME OUT ON THIS ONE! ENJOY!!!

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets

[watchmegetobsessed]

okay so hear me out: yn’s dad owes a hell lot os money to harry’s dad, not like in a maffia way, but its a serious situation. harry’s father comes up with an offer: if yn marries harry, he will let go of the debt. ofc yn’s dad refuses to sell his daughter but she wants to help her family so she ends up convincing her dad to accept it.

now, harry is known to be this grumpy, closed off loner, he has his own house with lands that he takes care of himself, he is doing his own business but he is known to be distant and doesn’t want anything to do with people. thats the reason why his dad wants him to marry someone, so that he might come out of his shell and start acting “normal”.

there is no wedding, they sign the papers separately and yn moves into harry’s house but they are just two strangers living together. harry ignores her most of the time, even tells her to stay out of his space and she can do whatever she wants as long as she doesn’t bother him.

but ofc they can’t avoid each other entirely so they have awkward encounters and run ins here and there, they even talk sometimes and slowly, i mean veeeryy slowly they get used to each other. but yn still feels incredibly lonely and homesick and one night harry finds her crying in the kitchen and he realises how awful she must be feeling so he tries to make her feel more home: he plants her favourite flowers in the garden, he repaints the window frames in the sunroom where she likes to read to her favourite color, he even attempts to cook for her… and slowly, she realises he is not the grumpy, mad guy everyone fears in town but a wonderful man who has been going out of his way to make her happy and ofc she is falling for him, just as hard as he is falling for her.

that is until he finds the emails she has exchanged with a lawyer about a possible divorce without fearing consequences towards her dad. he gets mad and disappointed and so sad, bc he felt like he found the person he could open up to but he was reminded that yn was only there to help her dad, not for him.

bc he still loves her, he gives her a way out: she can go back to her old life, they are getting a divorce and her father will remain dept free. she is confused about the 180 he just took, he is cold all of a sudden and she doesn’t know why. she convinces herself that he doesn’t love her and that she has to move on so she takes the deal and moves back home.

they start the divorce process, it takes about a month and they both suffer that time without each other, she realises he is her home now and he believes he will never love anyone again. they have to sign the final papers and so harry tries to make it happen without them meeting but she shows up at his place and says “i will sign these papers if you say you don’t love me, but if there is the slightest chance you have any feelings for me then im ripping these to pieces and coming right back where i belong” and he goes “feelings? yn i love you like i never thought i could possibly love anyone, i was just a shadow all my life until you came into my life and brought light and love and i will never be the same man again, not after seeing a glimpse of what life could be with you”

so ofc no papers get signed, their dumb asses realise they both been in love with each other so she moves back and they never let go of each other.

wow this was a long rambling lol

#harry styles #writing inspo

[icameheretoreadstuff]

need you

Pairing: Choso x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, MDNI!, NSFW, Teasing, Smut, Caught by yuji Summary: You, Choso and Yuji are having a dinnerparty at your place and Poor Choso needs you bad,- A/N: masterpost & links are pinned on my tumblr.

"Do you have salt?" Yuji asked, you woke up from your thoughts and nodded. You looked around the table "oh, I'll find some" you said and raised up from the table. You walked into your kitchen, you sighed as you searched for the salt. You looked in on where yuji and Choso were and blushed, Yuji was rambling in the background and Choso was staring at your body. His eyes gazed up and landed on your eyes. Your response was to smirk when you got an idea.

Yuji couldn't see you and besides he was rambling. You grabbed your top and flashed him your boobs. Choso froze and blushed like crazy, but he couldn't stop staring. You winked at him and he looked at yuji and then back at you. You slid your top back down and grabbed the salt while giggling. You walked inside and Yuji asked Choso "what's with you?" your boyfriend unfroze and his eyes followed you as you sat down on your chair. "How is the food?" you interviend. Yuji looked at you and began to ramble. Choso reached his hand under the table on your thigh, stroking you softly as he leaned his head on his chin and his elbow on the table while gazing at you.

"Here you go" you smiled and gave yuji the salt. "Thank you, so how have you to been?" he asked you both "We are good, we were at the park yesterday" you said and drank some water "There were bunch of cute puppies, I think they were having a meet and greet" you smiled just thinking about all the cute golden retriver puppies roaming around. "How cute! I love puppies!" yuji lighted up.

As Yuji began to talk about his week so far, Choso's hand raised up further. You could feel his hot warm hand so close to your core. you wanted to grab his hand and guide him twoards your clit. You wanted more.

"Can I talk to you?" Choso asked, you looked over at him trying to contain your breathing. "Yes" you said and then you realised you weren't alone "what's up?" you said in a more cheery voice. You looked down on all the empty plates in a panic, "Why don't you help me bring these into the kitchen?" you asked Choso. "I can help!" yuji smiled and raised up, Choso looked at yuji with a dont-you-dare look. "sit" choso hissed, Yuji sat down confused "your the guest after all" you quickly said as you walked into the kitchen.

Choso sat in the chair looking at yuji "aren't you gonna help her?" yuji asked Choso, looking at twoards the kitchen. "When are you going home?" Choso asked yuji, "you should go" he continued. "I can stay for desert" yuji responded and raised up grabbing the plates, Choso sighed frustrated at yuji and grabbed the plates out of yuji's hand. He turned around and walked into the kitchen.

When he came inside he put the plates in the sink, he walked over to the door and closed it. "Y/n" he whimpered and walked behind you, he leaned into your neck leaving love bites.

"I need you" He grabbed your love handles and thrusted his hard dick up into your ass. "please" he whispered "im so hard right now" he whimpered. He grabbed your thighs as he thrusted up into you while moaning silently.

He stroked your thigh upwards as he kissed your neck. "Choso" you moaned silently, feeling your entire body on fire and pushed up your skirt, pushed down your thong and leaned over the counter.

His dick was throbbing and he felt like he was couldn't breathe until he pushed his dick hard into you.

He pulled down his pants, whimpering like a little slut while holding his dick and pushed his dick into you. He sighed happily- "yes" He whined as he thrusted up into you fast, he couldn't wait or think.

He was addicted to pushing his big cock into you, hearing your moans and fucking you in every way possible, you managed to move your hand over his mouth as he moaned loudly. He grabbed your hips harder and thrusted hard into you, he moved his hand up under your top grabbing your breast.

He grabbed your mouth to silence all your moans and His hips pushed your ass up with each thrust, slamming his balls into your clit. you grabbed the kitchen bench as he groaned.

"im cumin-" he panted. You moaned into his hand, with each thrust his balls were slammed up into your clit. You gasped silently as you grabbed his free hand and moved it twoards your clit. "Fuck" he whined as he massaged your clit in circles.

He couldn't be silent anymore, he couldnt- he moaned loudly as he clapped hard into you. "Fuck" he whimpered as he grabbed your hips and pressed his dick hard into you, pinning you hard onto the kitchen bench. He huffed as he climaxed deep inside you.

The situation was turning you on so bad, you couldn't think straight. he continued to hold you tight into his chest. He slowly thrusted while circling his finger on your clit. He kissed your neck as he was pinning you close in his arms. You moaned loudly into his hand as you climaxed.

you both panted as you found something to clean yourself up with, Choso took up his pants. "Choso-" you panted and then you panicked alittle "Choso!" you realised yuji was sitting right outside the fucking door. You checked your clothes before you looked at the door.

The door was not fully closed. You blushed hard as you walked into the diningroom, thankfully he was not there. "I think he left?" you called after Choso, he came out the kitchen and shrugged "maybe". You smirked "how can you not take this more seriously?" you asked him and then just giggled over this situation. "I said to him he should go home" he sat down onto the chair. You just grabbed the phone and felt instantly red as a tomato.

Yuji: maybe next time try to actually close the door..

you gave your phone to Choso so he could read it and he blushed hard. "well, he'll definitively listen next time you tell him he should go home" you giggled and sat down into his lap, kissing him on his cheek.

#jujutsu kaisen #choso smut #choso kamo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #Kinktober 2023 #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jjk fic #jjk × you #jjk fanfic #choso kamo #kamo choso #choso x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x female reader #choso kamo x reader

[flashyzz]

T.W— Angst.

Knitted Shut...

"Gosh, stop fucking overreacting, it's just some overtime work." Satoru said to you, irritated and overworked. Fine, you gave up, he won, just like he does every single time you argue. You felt hurt and pained to know that your boyfriend barely has any time for you, no, for your relationship.

You slouched tired and frustrated from the fight you had with your dickhead boyfriend before you finally left to change. "Ugh, whatever, I don't even give a shit now." He said, visibly irked by your presence in the room. I mean— why would you even bother trying to convince him to not go overtime this time but he just won't listen.

And then here comes some girls who would be out there saying— "Gosh it's just overtime!" or "You're so obsessed!". No, they didn't know Satoru's relationship with you and they never will. You were going to the point of insanity by now, it was always overtime or night out with friends or family meetings! What about you? Did he even think about you during his entire life!? You were finished, this was too much negativity in your mind, all you can do now is just lay down and forget.

As you lay down on your bed overthinking about possibly everything in your love life, Satoru comes in. "Hey, doll~" he said in a 'loving' manner. "What do you want, Satoru." You replied to him, this time confused but still angry at him. "Y'know m'so so sorry about everything princess~." "I promise, I will never do it again~". Wow, apparently he's apologizing now? What a jerk he was. "Satoru, we talked about this, and before you mention it, No." You answered him sternly causing him to be angered. "What!?"

Satoru began to shout at you, his pent up frustration had erupted out of his mouth and the next thing you know he slapped you. "Satoru!" You exclaimed, the imprint of his hand on your soft cheeks burned painfully. "I'm sorry love! I didn't mean it!" "Forgive me just this once!" He tried to explain himself but you had already decided, and your decision made him mad.

"That was the FUCKING last straw Gojo!" You thought he wouldn't even have the guts to slap you like that because he loved you, but this just proved your thoughts wrong. His mind was racing with thoughts, what should he do? You weren't accepting any of his apologies and it was already clear that you were about to explode. "Fine." Satoru said.

FINE? That was all he wanted to say!? "FINE MY ASS SATORU!" "I WAS STUPID TO LOVE A SELFISH FUCKING MAN LIKE YOU!" You gasped covering your mouth. What the fuck did you just say..? Gosh, why were you so dumb? What is he gonna say now.?

BOOMBAYAH!!!! :3 YESS IM LAZY!!!

IDGAF

#gojo smut #jjk smut #jkk #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk fandom #jjk fanfic #jjk angst #strongest sorcerer

[s-4pphics]

rip, halloweekend! (e.w.)

hi😳 it’s my last week as a student and i felt sad so i wrote fratadjacent!ellie lol. literally just wanted to reminisce on party hookups since they’re over for me </3 

wc;cw: 3.4k mmm, MDNI!!, NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL IM VERY BUSY LOL, all ocs r black coded y’all see it, mentions of (faux)blood and vomit like once, alcohol weed it’s a party duh, 21 and tee grizzley promo like pay me, girls kissing🤭, dubcon(every1 is faded af lol), ellie’s sleazy, mentions of orgies and anal? uh oh, ellie’s so cocky <3, dirty talk, fingering, eating out no mcdonalds, spanking ass and tits lol, okie yeah dassit <3 

everyone say thank u to the loml @fandomshitpostingqueen 4 the title :3

Your school always turned up and out for Halloween. 

You and your friends had been complaining about how trash the parties have been for months, but now the streets are littered with people dressed as bare as possible in the freezing cold. They were all shotgunning beers in the middle of the street, blasting trap music through their portable speakers, throwing up everywhere. 

And you were so excited! This was going to be fun. 

You never particularly liked going to frat parties: their houses were never clean, it was always boiling hot in the basement, and the cops almost always showed up to shut the entire place down (only for another party to blow up in the early hours in the morning, and they shut them down, too! Fuckers!). But after your first ever mind-numbing, toe-curling, drunken fuck with… her at the Alpha Sigma Phi house in September last year, you hardly ever stepped foot in clubs again. 

You two weren’t super close even though you fucked on and off, but you were friends with her housemate, Riley, so whenever she invited you over, you would discreetly watch Ellie silently making cereal—high out of her mind—in only her sports bra and gray sweats. You hadn’t seen her since the start of the semester, when she’d dropped off your wobbly, highly intoxicated roommate with after she’d snapped you a hey. ur roomie drank alooottt and is really fucked up rn imma drop her off leave the door unlocked pls lol. 

It was a mystery how they got past your building's security since your roommate could barely hold up her I.D. according to Ellie, but you didn’t press since she seemed in a rush to get back to the party she was at. She quickly laid your friend in her bed before throwing you a quick see ya! before fleeing out the door. You didn’t even have a chance to properly look at her before your own door slammed in your face. 

And now here you are, standing in the frat entry line freezing your ass off in your slutty, glittery angel costume with a cheap, but feathered halo atop your head. Your dress barely passed your thighs, and your white, lace-up heels were getting scuffed on the concrete. You didn’t even want to be an angel, but your friends forced you to match with them with their demands of Were gonna be Charlie’s Angels, bitch I’m not playing!, to which you’d argue, they weren’t actually angels, clown! But after three days of consistent glares and pleading from your googly-eyed group, you gave in. 

“Bro, I’m so fuckin’ excited. I need more shots, I need more shots! —“

“Can you shut the fuck up, you sound crazy,” your good friend, Cleo said to your… feening friend, Evelyn. A gust of Fall wind blew past all of you, and you shivered in unison. 

“It’s too fucking cold for this shit! If y’all would’ve let me down that Svedka bottle, I would be warm as fuck right now!” Evelyn pressed at both of you between chattering teeth. 

“Bitch, you almost peed in these people's kitchen sink the last time you did some stupid shit like that! In front of everyone!” Cleo scolded with a glare, and Evelyn scoffed before turning away to look at the moving line. Your friend then turned her attention to you. 

“You tryna see your girlfriend?” Cleo said to you with a smirk while she hit her dab, and you rolled your eyes so hard, they almost fell out. 

“She’s not my fuckin’ girlfriend, shut up,” you tried to say as convincingly as possible. They both snorted at your attempts, clearly in denial. 

Your friends always made it sound like you were in love with Ellie when she was brought up. You could admit to having a crush on her, sure, but you weren’t always craving her attention. You let her come and go as she pleased, and you did the same. 

Your thoughts were cut off by some drunk, obnoxious asshole screaming at the two of you to pull out your school I.Ds. You all did, and the door immediately pulled open, and you were hit in the face with the bass from the speakers. You all entered, hand in hand, and watched people dance in masks, people making out, people twerking on the counter. And you all were finally warm. 

You moved through the packed, LED lit house to where everyone was dancing, and you and your friends made a small circle in the middle of the crowded floor. Evelyn managed to snag an unopened bottle of Tito’s from the counter and you, and Cleo stared in shock as she downed three large gulps like it was water. You snatched the bottle from her before she could get any more down, only to take three large sips of your own, before turning to Cleo, ushering her to lean her head back so you could pour some in her mouth. 

You felt lighter. 

Thirty minutes passed, and Cleo was throwing it back on you, and you were throwing it back on Evelyn as she clumsily thrusted her hips into your ass, bottle in hand. Your halo was tipping, you were sweating out your press, and your glittery liner was smudging, but you couldn’t give a fuck. 21 was on, and nothing else mattered. 

Until Evelyn stopped, pulling you up to her chest and sloppily whispered that she had to pee. You shook your head as you giggled, pulling a very high Cleo up to guide her to the bathroom by her iced-out wrist.

The line for the bathroom was so fucking long. What the fuck. 

But you and your friends were finally next. Evelyn was leaning back against the wall as she squeezed her legs together, whining out quiet dontpeedontpeedontpee’s to herself with her eyes shut. You shook your head at her. 

However, you all immediately stiffened when you heard a desired squeal of fuck yes, like that! coming from the bathroom. That’s why y’all were standing here for so fucking long?! So somebody could get their nut?! 

Cleo shook her head with a I know you fuckin’ lying before banging her fist on the door. “Bro, hurry the fuck up! We don’t have time for this shit!”

“Hold the fuck on, damn!” and your back straightened at the voice, eyebrows furrowing. Ohh, shit oh fuck! —

And the door swung open, revealing a very flushed Ellie, lips glistening and eyes tinted pink with a black cloak on, Scream mask in hand. She even had fake blood smeared on her face. And a girl in a devil costume hopping off the counter, adjusting the horns on her head. 

You made eye contact with Ellie, and she froze, only to quirk her slit brow at you, slowly gazing at your attire from top to bottom before reconnecting your eyes. You shivered, and she smirked. 

The demon girl snatched Ellie’s wrist to lead her out of the bathroom as Evelyn rushed in, barely shutting the door behind her. You held Ellie’s searing contact as she trailed behind the girl, nodding her head in greeting as she brushed past you, leaving the hallway. You turned towards Cleo, who’d been barricading the door for Evelyn, shaking her head at you with a knowing grin. You let out a quiet fuck you as she busted out laughing. 

Sometime in the night, you all scurried back to the dance for when First Day Out blasted through the speakers. You have zero recollection of what happened after you ran towards the packed dance floor(all your liquor body-slammed you at once!), but your tongue was shoved in Cleo’s mouth as she grinded on Evelyn, holding her by her thigh to pull her closer. She pulled away, licking your bottom lip as you both smiled before your hazy gaze traveled behind Evelyn, locking with the ones you were conflicted about seeing tonight. 

Ellie was smoking by herself, just watching you. You held her stare as you wrapped your arms around Cleo, drunkenly waving your hand to lure her over. She smirked around her blunt before shrugging, shaking her head no. You sent her a pout. 

“Ellie’s over there,” you bent down to talk in Cleo’s ear. 

She hummed in acknowledgment against your neck, “We’ll be alright. Go see her.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, I got her,” She said in reference to a very drunk Evelyn screaming out YOU KNOW I BROUGHT MY KNIFE!

“Text me if anything happens, okay?” You demanded, and she nodded before encouragingly patting your ass. 

You unwrapped yourself from your friend, squeezing through the crowd until you reached a very… calm Ellie. She was leaning back with her head propped up against the wall, doing tricks with every exhale of smoke. You leaned up next to her, shoulder to shoulder. 

Neither of you said anything, but she held her blunt up to your face. You accepted, parting your lips to inhale the smoke as you watched the lit tip shine orange. You pulled away, leaving the remnants of your gloss behind, and breathed in before exhaling away from her. 

You watched as she pulled her phone out, slowly typing something out with one hand as she ripped from the blunt again. 

You felt your phone vibrate in your bra. 

You looked at her suspiciously before pulling it out, unlocking it to open the snap from Ellie.

e: cum upstairs? 

y: 😐

You turned to her and watched her smile before typing. You looked back down at your phone. 

e: lemme give u some imsorry head :(

y: 😐

e: pleek 

y: where

e: upstairs duh 

e: jesses gone 4 the weekend so ye

e: fuckin u in his room lol 

… Who the fuck is Jesse?

You didn’t get an opportunity to respond before you felt her grab your wrist, pulling you into the crowd. You couldn’t help but look up at her frame, loose strands of her ponytail falling out, her dangly earrings, her fucking shoulders, her neck moving every time she looked back to check on you. She looked so fucking good, fuck—

You felt a smack on your ass, and before you could turn to beat the fuck out of whoever it was, you caught your friends giggling at you. Cleo suddenly made her O-face as Evelyn pretended to hit it from the back before they started laughing at you again. You stared blankly at them. 

“Okay?” You heard Ellie say in your ear, lips brushing against yours. You only nodded before turning back to face her. 

You watched as she looked behind you before smiling and looking back down at you with a headshake. She turned and led you towards the staircase. 

She pulled open a door—Jesse’s, you guess— at the end of the hall. It was a bit messy, but you ignored it as she closed the door behind you. 

“Where’s Riley? I haven’t seen her at all,” you said as she looked at you. 

“Dunno.” She replied simply, ripping from her roach. 

“…You got bored quick,” You hoped she knew what you meant. 

“Mhm,” she said as she exhaled before stubbing it out on the dresser. 

And then silence. 

This is awkward. You hoped she would be ripping your halo off by now.  

“You look cute.” 

“You don’t,” you replied sharply. Fuck, yes she does, she always does. 

She snickered at you before kicking her chucks off, “That girl thought I did.” 

You’re going to strangle her. 

“Fuck you.” 

“You’re gonna,” she said as she stepped closer. 

“You’re a slut.” 

“I am,” Another step. She said with a slimy grin. “The dirtiest.” 

You hated how wet that made you. 

“Your friends are funny,” She said with another step, finally in your space as she spoke quietly. “And they’re hot.” 

“I know they are.” 

“Orgy?” She asked with a bright smile.

“Ellie, are we fucking or not? M’feet hurt,” you slurred out, rolling your eyes. 

“You look so good right now,” she said more to herself than to you, it seemed. She’d been so quiet, tone filled with awe. Your face ran hot. 

“Wanna kiss,” She said as she leaned forward. 

You placed a hand on her chest. “‘M not about to kiss you, you were just giving somebody head, like, an hour ago.” 

“So?” She said, grinning wider. 

“The fuck d’you mean so? That’s gross, Ellie.” you said with an agitated tone. 

“Wanna bend you over his dresser,” She said silkily, and it made you clench tight. “Missed you, y’know?” 

You didn’t reply as you looked at her skeptically. She didn’t care, grabbing you by your hips to pull you closer, bodies now flush against each other. She bent down to plant soft kisses on your neck. You would’ve complained, but her mouth felt so good, fuck.

“You wet enough?” She whispered out against your throat before sucking on the wet spot. You threw your arms around her neck, your knees buckling. 

“Gettin’ there, keep kissing me like that,” you breathed out in a shaky whisper. You felt her smile against you before licking over where she sucked. 

You felt her hands travel down to your ass, as she grabbed both cheeks tightly in both hands. You let out a breathy moan at her grip before you felt her slap a cheek, and then the other. 

“Take this shit off,” she whispered out as she hiked your dress over your hips. You pulled it over your head, tossing it near the bed along with your halo. 

“Fuck you, I spent time making this,” you said with a pout as she laughed softly. She grabbed your bare tits in her hands before sucking a nipple into her mouth. You moaned as you peered down to watch her flick it. 

She switched sides, sucking the hardened bud into her mouth while she hummed quietly. Your hips pressed against her.

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits,” She whispered against your breast. “Gonna fuck ‘em one day, I swear to god.” 

You moaned at her promise as you felt her slap your ass again before whispering a get over there, nodding towards the dresser. You scurried over as quickly as your heeled feet could manage, tits bouncing with every step. You leaned back against it with your hands propped up behind you as you watched her pull your halo from your discarded fabric. 

“Gotta keep this on,” she said as she walked over, dangling it between two fingers. “For… affect, and whatnot.” 

“Right.” 

“Mhm,” she said as she carefully placed it on your head. “Turn around.” 

You listened without question, and you were faced with your own reflection. Your wet nipples, your rising and falling chest, your wet thong. And her darkly looming behind you closely, all bloody and grinning. Another gush of wetness in your underwear. 

“You know what I think?” She said into your ear, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

You hummed out questioningly. 

“We’d make a sexy cam-couple,” She whispered huskily as she licked your ear and you couldn’t stop squirming, pushing back on her as she grinded forward. “I could see it now: ‘slutty Scream murders cute angelic pussy’, we’d get paid so fuckin’ good.” 

“You’re stupid,” you shakily whispered out as she reached around to pull at your nipples. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned back against her, one hand reaching behind you to wrap around her neck while the other dug into her jean-covered thigh. 

She slapped your tits as she messily kissed your neck, sucking more bruises into the skin as she moaned against you. You felt one of her hands disappear from your tits, and before you could move to bring it back, you felt it grab the back of your neck to push you down against the dresser, arms falling in front of you in reflex. Your eyes tore open, and you were met with your sloppy-looking reflection. Lip gloss completely gone, eye-makeup smeared, sweated-out press sticking to your forehead(dammit!), and your halo lopsidedly hanging off your head. 

“Uh huh,” she muttered out as she watched you through the mirror, slowly thrusting her hips forward like she was fucking you and fuck, you wanted to fuck so bad. You hated how you instinctively pushed back on her, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Would make a sexy little pornstar.” 

“Fuck, El, ‘m so wet, c’mon, please! —” 

“Gonna baby, just lemme look at you,” she said back, and you whined, pushing back on her again. You wish she had her dick with her! 

“Make me cum, El, pleeease,” you whined out again, and you felt her slam a hot hand on your ass. You cried out as your cheek seared. 

You felt her slowly pull your panties to the side. You lifted your head to watch her through the mirror: her brows pulled down, her lip between her teeth, and she had the audacity to release a glob of spit on your pussy. You felt a gush of wetness leave you as it trailed down your pussy. 

“You’re so nasty,” you slurred out quietly. 

She reconnected your eyes in the mirror, and she grinned cunningly. You felt her free hand come up to run slow, deep circles on your slippery clit, and you moaned out as your eyes fluttered shut. You dropped your chin on the dresser in relief. 

“Cutest fuckin’ pussy, can tell she missed me,” you clenched tighter gushed wetter at her tone, your pussy screaming missed you so much, daddy! You could tell she noticed when she snickered out a small yeah, you did.

And then you felt her slide a finger in. Your jaw dropped as you gasped wetly, and you hated how she immediately found that spot that makes you scream. Your walls were gripping her finger tight tight tight—

“Fuck, angel, gonna gimme this pussy later?” 

“Fuck yes, ‘s yours!” 

“Yeah? Say it again,” and she dug her finger in deeper. 

“‘S your pussy, daddy, make me cum!” 

She gently pushed another finger in and she grinded them into you, barely pulling out. You hadn’t even noticed that the grip she had on your neck disappeared, her other hand reaching around you to massage your clit. You stayed bent over the dresser so she could hit it deeper, and fuck, she made you feel so good!

Your eyes were glued shut as you breathed and moaned out, but you felt her press kisses all over your ass, biting the cheeks. Your eyes fluttered open as she sat up, slowing down her fucking. She met your eyes to ask, “You ever get your ass fucked?” 

You barely reacted at her bluntness due to your hazy mind, but you shook your head no. She nodded as she pouted. She went back to fingering your cunt. 

“Mmh, you can if you w-wanna, when you take me home later, shit—“

“Who said I was takin’ you home? Hm?” She said and you heard the smirk in her voice. She pressed up against that spot harder as she slid another finger in. 

“Fuuuck!—“ 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes, baby, yesyesyes!—“

You watched her drop to her knees and felt her suck your clit in her mouth and your eyes rolled back and it was about to make you cum—

The sloppy noises of her sucking your pussy and the soppy sounds of her fingers inside you made you hotter, and you felt that burning feeling pulling in your gut.

“El, fuck, baby, I’m gonna— “ 

“C’mon angel, get me wet, want it all over my fuckin’ face— “ 

You couldn’t hear all the nasty shit she was muttering on your pussy as she fucked you through your nut, her lips taking your throbbing clit back in your mouth as she massaged that spot inside you. She was eating you like you were paying her for it and fuck you would if she asked. 

“Taste so fuckin’ good, no one tastes this good, what the fuck,” she said dazed. You knew she was watching your pussy twitch as you rode out the aftershocks on your orgasm, slowly fucking her fingers into you. 

You felt her stand up, slowly rubbing your clit as you calmed down, planting gentle, wet kisses onto your back. 

“You good?” She whispered against you, and you nodded against the desk. 

She chuckled gently, massaging your ass in both her hands before pressing a kiss on a cheek, “C’mon, we’re leaving.” 

You barely could catch your breath, “W’na dance, still.” 

“No, you don’t,” she said, licking up your spine. You felt her press her lips to your ear before she whispered. “Text your friends and tell ‘em we’re leaving. ‘M dropping them off so I can fuck this ass.” 

You shuddered. 

And nodded. 

And she cheesed wide. 

see yall inna week or so lol c:

#ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #ellie x you #ellie x reader #black!oc #black!reader #ellie williams x black!reader #ellie williams au #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪ #fratadjacent!ellie

[nametakensff]

Worth It (D/isco E/lysium, M/M)

Okay - this fic follows up just over a month from my 3 part K/im x H/arry series (that you don't need to read, I just ended up accidentally writing my fics as part of a continuous AU...again lol), featuring the aftermath of fetishist H/arry dealing with the slow return of certain memories, his budding romantic relationship with K/im and his past hook ups with J/ean

It ended up at 12.9K 😅 All three of them sneeze but it's mostly a J/ean fic (H/arry x J/ean with established H/arry x K/im, and then some H/arry x K/im x J/ean)

~~~~~

Content:

M/M, M/M/M mentioned and ongoing, H/arry has a sneezing fetish, cold sneezes, contagion, mentions of hay fever, rapid sneezes, spray, sneezing on someone, some mess mentions, nose blowing, audibly wet nose rubbing, masturbation, hand jobs, cumming in tissues, tissues, handkerchiefs, coughing, fever, dirty talk, implied praise kink, embarrassment/humiliation, verbal teasing, fantasies and mentions of public masturbation, graphic descriptions of semen, mentions of anal sex, threesomes, brief phone sex, brief exhibitionism/voyeurism fantasy

CW: mentions of past abuse, mentions of alcohol and drug abuse, mentions of physical violence, toxic relationships, abusive language (this fic has J/ean in it it's unavoidable), H/arry has a brief fantasy about licking cum off his hands and using cum as lube, mentions of J/ean and H/arry fucking at an active crime scene, self-hatred, some dudebro jabs at homosexuality

NSFW - Minors DNI!

Jean had a cold. A miserable, eye-watering doozy of a cold. It had started as a few errant sniffles and coughs here and there, perhaps a slightly more notable weariness when he spoke – but nothing could have prepared Harry for the sheer amount of sneezing he would witness as the illness progressed. Four days in, and Jean was a wreck. He refused to take sick leave, even having amassed a considerable amount of days over the years due to pure obstinance. He pointedly ignored any glances of either concern or aggravation as he sneezed, over and over, either into the protective cover of his elbow or a bundle of damp tissues. Not even Judit could convince him to go home.

“We’re in over our heads as it is, Jude. I don’t have the time to laze around in bed with all of – this waiting to be finished.” He’d gestured with a wide sweep of his hand not only over his own desk, but at the general maelstrom of officers marching back and forth across the bullpen, coming and going in a constant stream of activity.

“We’re wading knee-deep through an endless river of bureaucratic bullshit with an incapacitated workforce.”

“I can hear you, you know!” Harry had piped up, sat at his desk with his head in his hands as the mountainous piles of paperwork loomed over him. Kim shot him a sympathetic look from where he sat at his own new desk.

“I meant you to!” Jean growled, before a sudden teasing gasp had him spinning desperately away from Judit and sneezing fittishly into the crook of his elbow. Harry’s stomach was aflutter with butterflies as he watched. He couldn’t make out a sound, not over the din of the office and with the sheer willpower Jean had managed to exert over keeping the sneezes as locked down as possible. He finished shuddering a few moments later and extracted his face from the protective covering of his arm. He somehow now looked even worse for wear.

“Désolé.”

This was meant for Judit – Harry was sure he didn’t particularly give a rat’s ass about what anyone else in C Wing and beyond thought about these increasingly recurrent sneezing fits. The patrol officer in question squeezed his shoulder, her face a mask of concern and frustration.

“Will you at least go home when your shift is over?”

“Yes.” Jean lied.

Defeated and entirely used to accepting it with grace, Judit withdrew. She was smart like that. Harry had watched Jean watching her leave, waiting until she was out of sight before allowing his expression to waver – a look of total surrender, mouth dropping open and brows lifting high before his entire face crumpled. He’d sneezed against his wrist - five times consecutively, if the rhythmic trembling of his shoulders was any indication. When he lifted his head at last, he was bleary eyed and snuffling most pathetically. It had gone straight to Harry’s dick. Sensing eyes on him, Harry turned and noticed with no small amount of embarrassment that Kim had been watching him watch Jean. Not knowing what else to do, he’d shrugged his shoulders apologetically. Kim had merely raised an eyebrow and smirked at him before returning to his own work as if nothing at all had transpired.

Harry had been grateful for the noisy ambience and Jean’s own stubborn tactics of suppression. As long as he didn’t look in his direction, he could almost – almost! – pretend that his fellow officer wasn’t clenching with a paroxysm of tickly, cold-induced sneezes every five minutes or so. He had actually managed to put a dent, although minimal, in some of the simpler paperwork. More importantly, he had kept most of the blood in his brain and out of his dick.

It also seemed as though the way Jean stifled his sneezes into almost near silence didn’t provoke much ‘sympathetic’ sneezing in Kim, as Harry had come to label it. In typical analytical fervour, he had come to understand the perfect conditions to induce a reaction in Kim. He had deduced the following:

Volume. The louder the sneeze heard and/or witnessed, the higher the exponentiality of sneezes on Kim’s behalf.

Desperation. The more irritated, aggravated or generally torturous a sneeze sounded or appeared, the more likely this bizarre form of nasal sympathy was to occur.

Pre-existing sensitivities in Kim. Exposure to dust, cold air, a general fatigued immune system – an already irritated nose was prone to further irritation.

Naturally, a combination of all three in Martinaise had given Harry the show of a lifetime. He had (secretly, sadistically) been hoping Kim would catch his cold, but somehow he had managed to avoid it, despite having been miserably worn down and concussed by the time they finally completed the case of The Hanged Man.

Harry kept these ruminations to himself, of course. Maybe he would share them with Kim at some point. For now, at least, there had been no major paradigm shift, and Jean’s sneezes, whilst undoubtedly desperate, were lacking in volume, and Kim was entirely healthy and irritation free. That wasn’t to say there hadn't been any response from the Lieutenant, no. Harry had looked over with depleting subtlety more than once, prompted by a soft gasp, to watch Kim shudder into a small fit of his own on the tail end of Jean’s, and damn near bit through his tongue each and every time.

This system of deny and ignore had proven useful only until the night shift began. Normally, the bullpen was busier and the officers replacing those having finished the day shift would more or less keep the building near constantly occupied. Whatever evil god ruled over Revachol had decided that day, however, to summon every gang banger and petty criminal imaginable and enlist them in the sole mission of keeping damn near all officers of the 41st entirely occupied – and, more importantly, out of the office. It also just so happened to be the night that Harry had reluctantly agreed to stay and get through some paperwork, and Jean had in turn stubbornly refused to leave him unattended. Harry was slowly regaining his trust, and in Jean’s defence, he had evidently been awful at staying on top of paperwork pre-amnesia, and just as resistant to completing it in his recovery.

It shouldn’t have been an issue – but with every officer that left, taking both their physical presence and ambient sound with them, it was increasingly difficult to ignore Jean and the steadfast progression of his cold. Whilst his sneezes were apparently on continuous lockdown, he had long abandoned any attempts to blow his nose in relative silence. Every couple of minutes, Harry’s heart raced in his chest as the loud, obtrusive sound of Jean forcing air and mess out of his miserably congested sinuses echoed out in the office space. His nervous energy was manifesting in a persistent shake in his leg, tapping his foot over and over.

Kim had left early, for him, as well. He had made a habit of staying a few hours or more post shift ever since his transfer to the 41st, realising just how much they had fallen behind in administration. Harry admired him for it – paperwork, though sometimes exciting to record in the moment, was undoubtedly one of the worst parts of being an RCM officer, tediously boring at times – and yet Kim was consistently fastidious, conscientious, and perhaps most importantly, punctual. Today, though, he had excused himself almost within a minute of the day’s end.

“There’s a pivotal race in the TipTop Tournée being broadcast tonight at 7pm – I’ve missed the last few. I’m dying to see how it turns out.” He explained in response to Harry’s wounded complaints about abandonment.

“Oh yeah…you did mention that, come to think of it.” Harry recalled that when Kim had been discussing the race, he had been paying too much attention to the way the Lieutenant’s face had lit up in enthusiasm to really retain any information pertaining to the date of the event in question.

“I’m also exhausted – and it looks like the both of you are, too.” He glanced pointedly at Jean. “Don’t stay too late, detectives. Insufficient health begets insufficient policework.”

“I’m fine.” Jean croaked. Neither Harry nor Kim offered a response, though both had winced at the sheer raspiness of it.

Harry looked up at Kim as the Lieutenant pushed his chair under his desk. His big, baleful and truly pathetic eyes signaled quite clearly ‘do not leave me alone with him’. Kim simply looked at him, shook his head almost imperceptibly, and smiled in response. Harry sighed.

“Bye, Kim.” He mumbled despairingly.

“Goodbye, Harry.” Kim replied pleasantly. He tipped his head at Jean, currently recovering from his most recent series of tightly stifled sneezes. “Officer Vicquemare.”

“Lieutenant.” Jean muttered, not even bothering to look up from his paperwork. He looked thoroughly unwell, and Kim’s eyes lingered on him for a moment longer before meeting Harry’s gaze. The pair of them shrugged at each other, and Kim was out the door moments later.

And so, here Harry sat, not 45 minutes later and already so unbelievably sexually frustrated he had practically eaten half a pencil. It just wasn’t fair. The bullpen was probably the most silent he had ever known it to be in his entire time at the 41st. He knew this in his bones, regardless of solid memories to go off. Besides the sound of the city beyond the windows of the building and the hum of various electronics, the only other noises to be heard were as follows: Harry’s audible pencil consumption. Harry’s tapping foot on the linoleum floor. Harry’s fingers drumming on his desk. Harry’s grunts of frustration. Jean’s throat clearing. Jean’s coughing. Jean’s sniffling, sneezing, nose blowing – every noise imaginable of the miserably congested. And the inexplicably loud clock driving Harry to the brink of insanity as it ticked its way through this test of mental and physical fortitude.

The tail-end of Jean’s latest sneezes caused his sinuses to squeak quite audibly. It was the final straw for Harry – he needed to take a fucking walk. He pushed back his chair and stood up much more violently than intended. Jean cast a weary glance his way.

“Not leaving, just – kitchen. Need anything?”

Jean stared at him a moment longer, leaving Harry to sweat and wilt under his stony gaze, before returning to his work. He cradled his forehead in one hand, closing his eyes for a moment.

“No.”

Harry waited to see if anything would follow. When it didn’t, he strode out of the bullpen and down the hallway, shielding his erection as best he could with what he hoped was a subtle hand in front of his crotch. He walked towards the kitchen, fully intending to grab a sugary snack of some description as a form of distraction, but decided last minute to make his way to one of the several payphones at the end of the corridor.

“Hello?” Kim answered after the third dial tone.

“Kim,” Harry sighed desperately into the handset. “I think I’m dying. Jean, He is - He’s. Driving me insane.”

Harry heard Kim sigh an equally desperate sigh of his own. In his mind’s eye and in Kim’s apartment, the Lieutenant cast a nervous glance towards the clock on his wall. The hands were rapidly approaching 7pm. He was comfortably settled next to his radio with a can of beer. This was not ideal timing.

“You’re not dying, detective.” He offered drily. Harry was undeterred.

“But you see, Kim, I think I am. I have no idea how to deal with this. You know I don’t. You know that firsthand.”

The entire reason he and Kim had fucked in the first place had been because this stupid fetish had rendered him incapable of keeping his dick in his pants. The results had been overwhelmingly positive – they were still fucking now. Regularly. They had even started sleeping over at each other’s apartments. They went on walks and to cafes together. Neither had vocally confirmed it, but it seemed obvious to Harry that they were at least kind-of sort- of dating. Pseudo-almost-boyfriends, one might say. It had been a happy accident, and his embarrassing inability to keep his shit together had somehow – inexplicably - won Kim over.

 Jean was not Kim.

Harry’s memories had been coming back incrementally – little pieces here and there with the occasional groundbreaking moments of picture-perfect recollection. He had remembered very little about Jean  – had forgotten him entirely with the initial amnesia – and this was evidently, and understandably, an extremely sore spot for the younger officer. It turns out that he was Harry’s bona fide best friend, on top of his partner. More complicated was the fact that they had fucked, many times. This had come to light when Jean had caught Harry kissing Kim in the precinct parking lot.

“Well. I can’t say it isn’t somewhat relieving that an Officer as competent as Lieutenant Kitsuragi has equally as shitty taste in men as I do.”

Harry had barely a moment’s notice to let those words sink in before the vivid memory of Jean writhing underneath him knocked the air out of him. From that moment, he had been inconsolable. Was he in a relationship with Jean? Was he actively cheating on him right now? Had he liked men before Kim?? Jean and Kim had in turn done their best to mollify him, settling him and themselves into Kim’s Motor Carriage to conceal this latest mental breakdown from any passing officers.

Jean had confirmed that they were not in a relationship, and they had done very little fucking, if any, for at least six months, for obvious drug-and-alcohol-spiral related reasons. Harry was a little relieved, but still devastated to have forgotten. He could tell that this gaping nothingness in his brain regarding Jean deeply hurt the younger man, and for that he was truly apologetic.

“It’s fine, Harry.” Jean had spoken to him in the kind of tone one might use to console a cornered animal. “You remembered something just now. You’ll remember more, over time.”

It was the softest Jean had been with him since Martinaise. Harry had felt the tears welling up in his eyes almost immediately.

“Kim wasn’t my bisexual awakening?” He’d asked in a tiny voice, sounding ridiculous but authentically devastated and confused enough that neither Kim nor Jean had laughed at the absurdity of it.

“It’s okay.” Kim had reached out and patted his arm. “It doesn’t change anything. I won’t take it personally.”

Harry had burst into tears anyway. He was still crying by the time Kim’s MC rolled to a stop outside his apartment building, and was only just winding down by the time he was escorted to his flat by both Kim and Jean.

In present day, he leaned his head against the wall beside him. Kim cleared his throat.

“I can’t stay on the phone for long. I’m not sure what to suggest other than finding a means to take the edge off. Actually-“ Harry could hear that he immediately regretted that particular phrasing. “What I should say is, find a way of achieving relief.”

“Kim.” Harry smiled. “Are you, for the second time since we’ve met, suggesting I rub one out during work hours?”

“I assumed it was par for the course with you, Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor.” The way his voice dropped an octave with the flirtation was doing nothing for Harry’s erection.

“You’re not helping,” He whined down the phone.

“Probably not. I’m just telling you what I would do if I were you. Find somewhere private and have an orgasm.”

Now that really didn’t help. The thought of Kim masturbating at his desk, head thrown back in ecstasy as he pleasured himself in plain sight made Harry’s cock twitch. He ignored the ‘private’ part, instead picturing the smaller man surrounded by an audience of hungry onlookers.

“Dammit.” He growled into the mouthpiece. He heard Kim chuckle on the other end of the line. “I guess I’m going to have to. But I’m worried he’ll come look for me if I’m gone for too long.”

“Well,” Kim started. Harry could just picture the subtle smirk of his mouth. “It shouldn’t take you very long, all things considered. Maybe you could start now.”

“You know,” Harry breathed out, “I didn’t peg you for a sex pest. Encouraging phone sex on top of it all.”

“Relax, Harry, I’m just teasing you. You’re fun to tease.”

“Fucker.”

Kim just laughed. The sound of it made Harry soft all over.

“I guess I really should go and…take care of myself. I can’t sit there anymore, constantly on the verge of going off in my pants like a fucking teenager.”

“You’re just sensitive. It’s not a bad thing. Extremely impressive for a man your age, and with your history of substance abuse.”

Kim was, within reason, in the habit of putting a positive spin on all of Harry’s flaws and fuck-ups. Harry could see how from the outside this may appear overly mollycoddling, but even if that were the case, it had done wonders for his almost non-existent self-esteem. He drank the compliment in as eagerly as he would have liked to down a double vodka and lemonade.

“I guess, but – I mean, it’s so awkward. I don’t even know if he – you know, knows. About my thing.”

Kim laughed again, uncharacteristically hard for him. Harry blinked and said nothing, letting the younger man compose himself.

“Oh, Harry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you. But he most certainly knows. The two of us have actually discussed it in relative detail.”

Harry gaped, almost dropping the phone in shock.

“You Judases! Ganging up on me when my back’s turned-!”

“You’re being dramatic.” Kim drawled. He was clearly enjoying this reaction. “It was a short conversation, one smoke break. I don’t even remember how we got onto the topic. But rest assured, he definitely knows.”

Harry paused, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to probe for more.

“How…does he know. In what way?”

“Let’s just say…that you liked to take advantage of Satellite-Officer Vicquemare’s hay fever – which I’ve come to understand is quite impressive, in full swing.”

Harry’s cock throbbed dangerously in his pants, drooling into the fabric of his underwear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckkkk…!”

“Mhmm. In fact, I believe you almost contaminated an active crime scene with semen residue following such an exploit. Jean seemed to imply this was the case.”

“God…” Harry muttered. He suddenly felt an overwhelming sensation of loss mingling in with the horniness – not dissimilar to the way he felt when Dora sprung to mind. “I wish I could remember. This sucks.”

“…I’m sorry, detective. I didn’t mean to upset you. For the record, I haven’t disclosed any particular details of intimacy between us to him.” He paused for a moment, sounding genuinely dismayed. Harry knew it hadn’t been his intention to trigger any amnesia-related sadness.

“Okay.” He muttered pathetically, suddenly on the verge of tears. He was slowly realising that even without the withdrawal or presence of narcotics in his system, his default setting as a human being appeared to be overly-emotional and very bad at controlling it. He heard Kim tut affectionately over the line.

“These things will come back to you, sporadically. The hospital has said as much. You don’t need to worry, I promise.”

“…Yeah.” Harry nodded, tears beading his eyes. Kim couldn’t see him, but the motion alone was soothing.

His erection seemed undeterred by this rapid swinging of moods. It felt like he didn’t often give his body time to catch up with his emotions. Either way, it was still there, tenting his trousers in plain view of anyone who might walk past. He glanced around. The building was still eerily empty. That one unearthed memory of Jean squirming underneath him as he pistoned in and out of him danced seductively behind his eyelids every time he closed them.

Kim was waiting patiently for him to speak. Harry knew the race would be starting imminently – he should wrap this up.

“Kim?”

“Yes?”

“I might have to fuck him over this. Would that…be a problem?”

He waited with eyes scrunched shut for Kim’s response. This was…a grey area. Something they hadn’t really discussed. Exclusivity.

There had been one evening – a particularly emotional one, in which Jean and Harry had been working through their past grievances. This involved a great deal of Harry being exposed to more and more news of the complete and utter asshole he had become as his alcohol and drug abuse soared. The pain on Jean’s face at times made him feel physically ill just shy of vomiting. He was disgusted with himself.

Kim had been present, a self-elected referee to ensure neither men whipped each other into an emotional frenzy from which there was no return – or at least to step in if things turned physically aggressive. The whole thing had ended up sort of like a strange counselling session with Kim as the occasional de facto therapist. It was funny, looking back. It felt like they’d made genuine progress together, but by the end of it Harry was exhausted and practically oozing self-hatred. What had started as comfort from both Kim and Jean in the form of a gentle palm rubbing his back here, a reassuring squeeze to the thigh there had…escalated. Quite rapidly. He didn’t even remember who made the first move but fantastically, miraculously, an evening of homosexual group sex had unfolded.

By the end of it, Harry had been physically sated but in a state of near disbelief. He could no longer tell if the amnesia had been the worst or best thing that had happened to him. An orgasmic gay threesome with his fellow police officers was definitely not what he had expected going into that discussion, but he wasn’t about to look that gift horse in the mouth. In a matter of weeks and culminating in this one evening, he had gained a kind-of-sort-of boyfriend and more or less patched things up with his forgotten-best-friend-cum-fuck-buddy. And he’d even gotten to watch them fuck each other on the living room floor when he’d taken a breather for a glass of water.

Nothing of that nature had occurred between the three of them since. Nothing had been awkward the next day at work, not even remotely. Jean and Kim seemed perfectly at ease with each other, at least from what Harry could see. In addition, Jean’s face seemed to light up with hope each time Harry remembered something about him – even the awful things. It was bittersweet, getting to know him all over again. He wanted to do better than before – couldn’t even imagine treating Jean the way he had. He wanted to respect his boundaries and take things slow – if that was what Jean wanted.

Fucking Jean in the office without Kim because all of the sneezing he’d been doing had gone straight to his dick was probably the worst idea he’d had in a while. Not a boundary to be seen – and he would be taking it about as slow as a Mach 5 missile.

Kim broke the silence in a matter of seconds, though to Harry it may as well have been hours, for the agonising anxiety it caused him.

“I…don’t recommend exposing yourself to the virus when your immune system is already so compromised.”

Harry huffed out a dead-pan laugh.

“I think you know that’s not what I mean. Is it…okay? Me and him, without you there?”

Kim hesitated for a moment, then let out a measured sigh. Harry could picture him massaging the bridge of his nose underneath his glasses.

“As much as I like to indulge you, I’m okay with not being sneezed on by Satellite-Officer Vicquemare for now.”

His voice had a playful lilt to it, which was somewhat reassuring, but wasn’t enough.

“I’m serious, you know.” Harry gripped the mouthpiece of the phone tightly, the plastic audibly crunching under the pressure. “I really l-!..like you.”

Fuck. He had almost, almost dropped the L-bomb like a batshit crazy person. He felt himself flushing like a bashful little boy. Kim said nothing. Harry swallowed nervously and continued.

“I want to be with you. Like a boyfriend, I think. I don’t know. I’m not – I’m not very good at this. I’m evidently horrible at relationships.”

“…Harry-“

“And it’s important for you to understand that. Umm. I’m not just using you. For sex.”

“Harry.” Kim said. His tone was warm and patient. Harry didn’t interrupt him this time.

“I like you too.” He sounded genuine, and happy. “If you’re asking me to be your boyfriend, then…yes. I would like to try that.”

Harry punched the air in a silent dance of victory. He managed to swallow the urge to whoop like a lunatic and let Kim finish.

“You have a shared history with Jean. He’s an excellent partner to you, and an exemplary RCM officer. You were never in a romantic relationship, and neither of you have expressed an active desire to pursue one. I trust him, and I trust you. And I really do like Officer Vicquemare…”

Harry listened, sensing more.

“I also liked the way he whimpered when I fucked him up the ass.”

Harry let out the strangest combination of surprised laughter and heated groaning. Kim chuckled in response.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” Harry pushed after a beat. “If it’s an issue – getting my rocks off, with him, like this – then I promise, I won’t so much as look in his general direction-!”

“It’s okay, Harry. Really. Again, despite everything, I trust you both entirely. Maybe I’m completely stupid, I don’t know. I’m still getting…acclimated.”

That was an understatement if there ever had been. Precinct 41 was everything Precinct 57 was not – chaotic, abrasive, action-packed, a clusterfuck of insanity. In Harry’s opinion, though muddled of mind that he was, Kim was doing an excellent job of taking everything in his stride.

“We can talk about what we’re doing when I see you tomorrow. My race started two minutes ago. Go and get sneezed on by your subordinate officer. Or, like I said, don’t. It seems like a particularly nasty cold.”

Harry had been doing a great deal of gaping stupidly over the span of this conversation. He did it again for good measure.

“I…don’t even know where to start. Man…Okay. I’ll…figure something out. We’ll talk tomorrow?” He asked, his heart fluttering in his chest.

“Tomorrow.” Kim agreed. “You’re ridiculous. Turns out, I like that.”

Harry grinned.

“I hope your guy wins.”

“Me too. Goodnight, detective. See you in the morning.”

“Night.”

Harry hung the phone back in its cradle before exhaling a huge breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding. He felt giddy and exhilarated with a hopefulness he hadn’t experienced in what had to have been years.

“What the fuck,” he laughed in the empty corridor. This was insanity, but if there was anything this last month and a half had taught him, it was to go with the flow and enjoy it. He didn’t always need to be fighting tooth and nail for control in a Universe that did what it damn well pleased, no matter how hard he resisted. This acceptance of futility was nothing like the suicidal ideation of his drug-induced spirals. It was paradoxically the most empowering realisation he had come to perhaps in his entire adult life. Whatever happened, would happen. He would accept it with as much grace as he was capable. Which was admittedly not a lot, but hey. Nobody could say he wasn’t trying his best.

~~~~~

Harry helped himself to biscuits and tea in the kitchen and sat for a while, contemplating his approach. Jean and Kim were very different beasts when it came to the appeal of Harry’s…well, everything. Whilst Kim appeared – and still very much was – quite distant at times, Harry could practically see him opening up day after day like the delicate unfurling of flower petals. Jean had known Harry for years and had both the psychological and physical scars to show for it. Being a pathetic, horny freak had perhaps charmed Kim due to its novelty. Begging Jean for a quick office fuck, from what he could glean, was surely the go-to approach he’d used on his partner before he’d forgotten everything. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go down that route again, especially when Jean was undeniably ill and pissed off about it.

He sighed, dunking his last biscuit in his tea and barely even noticing when half of it sank to the bottom of the mug in a soggy lump. He didn’t want to be overly direct, but he doubted there was any other way to approach the matter. He made up his mind and decided he would prefer any rejection coming from Jean in the form of a quick punch to the face rather than any awkward verbal letdown – the kind of which would inevitably follow any subtle attempts at flirtation on his part.  

When Harry arrived back at C Wing, Jean was mid sneeze. Harry watched him from the doorframe and knew with utter certainty that he had to fuck him. It was a primal need at this point.

“hH-Dtch!-Ngxt!-Gkkt! Hh! Dsh-tshh-tsh!”

Perhaps he hadn’t noticed Harry watching him – how could he, as preoccupied as he was sneezing himself stupid. He was stifling a lot less successfully, barely trying at all. His poor sinuses sounded miserably swollen, his inhales when he was given half a chance to take them shaky and exhausted, the poor bastard. Harry wanted his cock buried to the hilt inside of him.

Jean finished at last, sighing from the depths of his being and simply sitting still for a moment. Arms propped up on the desk, he leaned his forehead into his left hand, tentatively rubbing his nostrils with one crooked knuckle of his right. Harry strode towards him and stood before his desk, practically vibrating with energy. Jean lifted his head, cast his bleary eyes towards Harry’s face where they lingered for a moment, before taking in the impressive bulge Harry now made no effort to shield.

“What the fuck are you-”

“You’re driving me crazy. I want to pull my cock out and cum all over the place.”

Jean’s mouth dropped open. It was somewhat pleasing to Harry, to see such an expression on his partner’s face. These days, being most often met with derision, bemusement or melancholy, it was nice to shake things up a little, to know he wasn’t an entirely predictable cliché to Jean. He also liked seeing that mouth wide open – the suggestiveness of it. He wanted to see that more often.

Once the initial shock seemed to leave his system, Jean glanced around as if to confirm that there was nobody else to eavesdrop on Harry’s relative insanity. The room was as empty as it had remained for the past couple of hours – no other officers magically appeared from behind any furniture, ready to point and jeer. He turned back to Harry, but the older man cut him off before he could start chewing him out for his unabashed brazenness.

“I’m serious, you know. You’re painfully hot right now. I can’t think about anything else.”

He briefly squeezed himself through his trousers for emphasis. Jean’s eyes lingered long enough to make Harry grin.

“…And how would Kitsuragi feel about you touching yourself in front of me, getting off on my misery like the fucking pervert you are?”

Jean’s words were biting but there was no real animosity behind them. His bleary eyes seemed brighter, alert and pensive all of a sudden. Something about the way Harry’s cock throbbed in response to the derision, the ease with which the words poured out of Jean with no hesitation at all made it clear that this was an area of great familiarity for the both of them.

“Oh, don’t worry about Kim. He all but told me to fuck this out of my system.”

That wasn’t strictly the truth, but it wasn’t a lie either. Jean scoffed in response.

“I knew he was a freak but I didn’t take him for a cuckold.”

“Hey, that’s not-“

“Shut up, you presumptuous cretin! I should punch you in the face for calling your boyfriend and asking permission to – what, fuck me? Before you even asked me?”

Harry cringed a little. This was actual, legitimate anger now – and when Jean put it like that, he really did seem like an asshole. A selfish part of him loved hearing his partner refer to Kim as his boyfriend, but he buried it for the moment. He may be a presumptuous cretin but even he knew if he started giggling like a love-struck teenage girl right now he really would be getting a fist to the face.

He paused for a moment, taking in Jean’s ire and the way his pale eyes pierced into his own. And then he opened his mouth.

“Don’t take this out on Kim. You seemed perfectly fine letting us double team you a few weeks ago.”

Jean made a strangled sound and flushed so hard he looked almost purple under the shitty, fluorescent lighting.

“That was different, you moron! We weren’t in an office, for one. It just happened. And I could breathe out of my fucking nose then.”

Harry couldn’t help the little twitch of pleasure his cock gave at both the memory of their sex and Jean bringing attention to his current, miserable condition. He peered down his nose at him, happy the younger man was sat down whilst he stood. It gave him a little leverage, the illusion of domination, to be towering over him right now.

“I doubt we’ve never done it here before. And Kim told me that you told him – behind my back, by the way – that we’ve fucked at crime scenes too!”

Trying not to think about the grossly teenage sounding 'he said, she said' turn of phrase, he initially omitted the part about Jean’s hay fever before hesitating, reconsidering and adding:

“And from the sounds of it, you couldn’t breathe through your nose then either. And you still wanted it, Vic.”

Jean blinked at him, looking a confusing mix of sheepish, perturbed and aroused. Harry realised he’d called him ‘Vic’; it felt familiar, rolled right off his tongue. That nickname on top of the damning accusation of his willing participation seemed to have rendered his partner temporarily speechless. Whilst it was pretty fun, it also felt a little too much like bullying. Harry sighed, and dropped to his knees, resting his chin on the desk and peering up at Jean with big, watery eyes. He hoped that the shift in positioning would make Jean feel better, even if it made him look pathetic.

“Please?” He batted his eyelashes up at the younger man. “Getting off will help me focus on these cases.”

Jean scoffed, again, and scrubbed his animated nostrils with one crooked finger. Harry zoned in on the motion, biting his lip as an audible squishing noise filled the air and Jean’s finger came away slightly shiny.

“You want to get off? Go jerk off in the bathroom and quit bugging me.”

Harry growled, gripping the edge of the desk on either side of his chin and staring up at Jean, who was no longer pink with embarrassment but staring daggers at him all the same.

“But – don’t you want to watch me cum for you? Because of you?” He scrambled to his feet again, leaning over the desk and hovering his face right in front of Jean’s. The younger man’s breathing seemed laboured, and not strictly because of his cold. He was turned on by this. Harry decided to go for gold and flashed him the sexiest version of ‘The Expression’ he could muster. Jean looked pained.

“Harry…” He breathed against Harry’s lips, leaning subconsciously towards him. “You can make things up to me by doing your goddamn work.”

“That’s…that’s kind of putting the cart before the horse, though.” Harry mumbled. Jean likes horses, he remembered. Maybe he’d find that turn of phrase endearing.

Harry watched him take it all in. He could practically visualise the process of Jean’s thoughts as he worked through resistance, indignation, and then – at last – reluctant acceptance.

“God fucking damn it.”

He stood, pressing a finger underneath his red-raw nostrils as if another sneeze was imminent. Harry hoped that was the case. He staggered backwards, excited grin plastered to his face and heart pounding in his chest.

“Don’t look so fucking pleased with yourself.” Jean muttered, walking in the direction of the copy room. Harry continued to look pleased as punch, trailing after Jean’s purposeful stride with a slightly more awkward gait. The zipper of his trousers strained against his burgeoning erection, growing impossibly harder now that there was promise of relief.

Harry slammed the door shut behind them, locking it for good measure just in case the station inexplicably flooded with life. Jean was leaning back against the printer when Harry turned to face him, muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. In this stance, he could really appreciate the results of the many hours the younger man spent working out to an almost pathological degree. His biceps strained against the cotton of his shirt, and the way his sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, leaving his hairy forearms exposed…Harry fought back a sudden pavlovian deluge of saliva at the sight of him. The way Jean was regarding him with a mixture of irritation, arousal and amusement was doing nothing to calm the throbbing between his legs.

Harry walked the few steps towards Jean and stared back. When Jean made no move, said nothing but offered a congested sniffle in response, Harry tilted his head a little in confusion.

“So, umm…?”

The older detective motioned with his hands, a distinctive ‘what gives?’ motion. Jean just smiled derisively at him.

“What? I thought you came in here to jerk off. So jerk off.” Even though the cold had left him pallid and drained, Harry didn’t miss the way his pale eyes glittered as he spoke.

“But, can I? I mean, aren’t we-?” Harry floundered slightly. This was not what he had had in mind. He realised suddenly he wasn’t entirely sure what he expected from the interaction. He’d only really been thinking about having an orgasm. But Jean had lead him here – surely that was an invitation for – what, a quick fuck? Hand jobs, blow jobs, mutual masturbation? Just. Something…together.

Jean’s amusement visibly increased with every passing moment of Harry’s braindead confusion. Sadistic bastard, Harry thought. His dick twitched in earnest.

“Use your words, shitkid.” Jean smirked at him, rounding off his command with a waterlogged sniffle that sent a shiver down Harry’s spine. He didn’t give Harry so much as a chance to do so before continuing.

“I came in here to sneeze in privacy – you followed me. You thought I was going to drop to my knees and suck your dick?”

Harry visibly wilted, mouth dropping open in dismay. This was revenge. Petty, mean-spirited revenge. Sure, Jean hadn’t actually agreed to do anything – Harry had just followed him of his own accord but – but! The implications!

Jean watched his face as these thoughts whirled round his brain. Apparently, he must have looked about as pathetic as he felt, and Jean started to laugh. It was a nice laugh – a genuine laugh, maybe a little endearing and at odds with the spiteful way he had been addressing him moments earlier. Harry waited for him to finish, and he soon did, clearing his throat a little as if embarrassed at his own naked display of amusement.

“It’s okay, shitkid. You can take your cock out and enjoy the show. But I’m not touching you – I feel like fucking shit.”

Harry listened to him speak, watching his face intently. This was the first time Jean had admitted out loud to feeling unwell, even if it was blatantly both visually and aurally obvious to everyone else around him. It seemed he’d tired himself out with the domineering bravado, slumping a little against the copy machine, no longer having the energy to maintain his upright posture. His nostrils were also twitching, a surefire sign that he was about to start sneezing, and soon.

“Fine. Okay.” Harry muttered, already feeling the heat gathering and pulsing outwards from his groin at the mere promise of what was to come. He managed to extract his hard cock from the confines of his trousers, narrowly avoiding catching the delicate skin in his zipper, and wrapped one sweaty, spit slick palm around it. It immediately felt incredible, and he swore as he started to stroke it. This would not take very long.

Looking up from the tantalising sight of his own hand working his cock – a huge cock, a cock he was pathetically proud of – he focused his eyes back on Jean, and was glad he had done so. He stared as the younger man shuddered with a round of desperate, tickly little sneezes, all successfully stifled into silence against an outstretched pointer finger. Fuck, Jean looked good like that, cringing into that tight, pained expression as he bit down on every sneeze. His nostrils looked so lovely and so red in sharp contrast with the rest of his pale complexion. Harry wanted those nostrils pressed up against the shaft of his cock. He thought about Kim doing the same, willingly teasing him with sneezes and making him cum embarrassingly quickly, like the way he had done last week as they fooled around on his couch. His cock drooled precum.

Jean had a moment’s reprieve before he was scrambling in his trouser pockets for a tissue, extracting one at last that looked entirely worse for wear – balled up into no more than a lumpy mass, completely past the point of usefulness. All the same, Jean was bringing it up to his poor, flaring nostrils, giving Harry just a moment to take in his creasing eyebrows, the grimace of his open mouth as the tickle crested and he sneezed fiercely into it.

“Hn’tshh!! TSH’iew! Nd’Tsh! Tsh-Tshht!!”

He gasped, an intensely desperate sound that had Harry gasping too. And then the cycle repeated.

‘Ddtsh! Tsch’uu-TShht!! Hgk’Tssht! Huhd’Tishh-Tissh-‘Ddtshieww!!”

Harry was in pure, fetishistic ecstasy, squeezing and stroking his cock for all he was worth to those gorgeous little sneezes. It was so erotic, that such a gruff, muscular man was rendered entirely helpless by such proportionately tiny releases. His own huge sneezes were a lot more appropriate for a man his size, he thought, but the contradiction only seemed to turn him on even more than if Jean had sneezed with equally gigantic proportions. It was endearing, if one could describe something as such even whilst it resulted in an erection the hardness of which titanium couldn’t hold a candle to.

Jean paused for a moment, nose still buried in the pathetic knot of tissue, breath scissoring in and out of him. Harry steeled himself for more, slowing down his stroking so that he wouldn’t topple over the edge just yet. He wanted to cum so badly, but he wanted more. He wanted to watch Jean’s face completely unobstructed by hand or tissue alike. He wanted to see the way they would overwhelm him without the interference of suppression. He bit his bottom lip, trying not to whimper as his subordinate officer hitched, and hitched, and hitched -

“Please,” he gasped out, the sudden raspy outburst a lot louder than he had intended. It was evidently loud enough to throw Jean off balance, huffing in frustration as his sneeze failed to culminate past a desperate, vocal “Huhhdt-!!”. Harry groaned in response, felt his dick throb in his grasp as Jean’s face pinkened in embarrassment over the aborted release.

“What is it? You distracted me. Fuck, it burns!”

He proceeded to scrub at his poor nostrils with the sodden tissue, nudging the tip of his nose from side to side. Harry could tell he was genuinely tiring of the persistence of the tickle. Vague memories suddenly skimmed his brain of Jean at the tail-end of spring and over summer, bullying his nose with the knuckles of his hand when a pollen-induced sneezing fit lay just out of reach. Come to think of it, they were coming up to May very soon…god. Harry sighed, squeezing his cock to these happy thoughts and watching as precum beaded at the head. Fuck, this felt so good.

“Sorry, sorry, just please - don’t use the tissue. And don’t hold them back. Please? You’re so fucking hot.”

Jean’s blush deepened – whether in frustration or arousal at the compliment, he couldn’t be sure. Either way, it went straight to his cock.

“What? Fuck you. You don’t get to tell me how to sneeze.”

He was a little pissed, his accent thickened in overly performative and righteous indignation at the suggestion of catering to Harry’s specific whims. If Harry wasn’t mistaken, and his gut assured him he was not, it seemed like defensiveness against the fact that he would very much like to be told what to do. This felt, again, familiar. It made Harry harder to hear the way his loss of composure elongated the vowels in the word ‘sneeze’. He stroked himself a little faster.

“Come on, Vic. Do it for the station. I need to cum and clear my head so I can finish all that pesky paperwork. Please?”

He batted his eyelashes again. It wouldn’t have worked on just anyone, no – the sight of a 44 years old, recovering alcoholic police officer, wild-eyed and desperate with cock in hand, begging for his subordinate officer to sneeze uncovered so he could shoot his load. But this was Jean – normal rules did not apply.

“We’ve been through this, you prick. You should fucking do your paperwork without the promise of orgasm because it’s your fucking job!” Jean spat, raising his voice a little more than his irritated throat could take. He coughed harshly for several moments into a raised fist before sighing miserably, glancing up at Harry with a look of surrender. Harry shivered a little, resumed squeezing the head of his cock where he had temporarily abated in nervous concern at the voracity of the coughing. He ended up letting out an embarrassingly high-pitched whimper, bucking into his own grip. Jean sighed.

“Fine. I need to sneeze again, don’t distract m’hh-! Me…”

His breath started to softly hitch. To Harry’s delight, he shoved the soggy tissue back into his pocket and let his head fall back ever so slightly, allowing him to get a perfect view of his crumpling, desperate expression. Jean didn’t think he was a good-looking guy, but Harry wholeheartedly disagreed. He wasn’t one to preach the importance of self-love when he himself struggled to look in the mirror knowing how attractive he’d once been, only to squander it – even if recently, it was getting a little easier to do so. Bravado and charisma masked his discomfort – Jean’s buffer was merely rudeness and aggression. But either way, as he gasped his way into another fit of cock-throbbingly desperate sneezes, Harry had hardly found him more desirable.

“Hhd’Tschht!-D’tshh!! Hh! Hagk’Tisshhiew!! Hgk’Tschh! Hupt’TISHhhiew!! Ihgk’TSHhiew! Higk’TZSCHhhh!...‘DDTSH’uuu!!”

Jean shuddered, gripping the surface behind him as the force of the releases threatened to topple him. Each sneeze sounded positively ruined, as if his body could barely handle the cold-induced tickle that flared again and again. The first two Jean had stifled out of habit, before he’d remembered Harry would very much like to be sprayed with every single one of them. By the time he’d finished, his eyes and nose were leaking, and Harry’s legs were starting to shake with the effort of holding himself upright, a mind-numbing orgasm looming and sapping him of motor control.

“…You’re going to fall down if you don’t hold onto something. We don’t need a repeat of you nearly braining yourself on the edge of a table.”

Jean brought this up so readily, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if Harry should easily remember this fact, the fact that he and Jean had fucked around enough that he had (embarrassingly) injured himself falling to his knees in orgasm before. And he should remember. Why couldn’t he remember?

“I…don’t remember anything like that.” Harry confessed, throat tightening a little.

“I know. It’s okay.” Jean softened immediately, opening his arms up to Harry. “Come here.”

He shifted forward until he was stood between the protective embrace of Jean’s spread thighs, sighing a little as the younger man reached out to place both hands on his waist, steadying him. Harry himself reached out with his free hand past Jean’s waist to press against the sturdy surface of the copy machine. He watched as Jean took a moment to scrub at his nose with the wad of used tissues. It was such a handsome nose – prominent and strong, perfectly suited to his face. Watching it twitch and wriggle and hearing the soft clicks of moisture the motions created as Jean bullied it made his cock throb. He so desperately wanted to replace Jean’s hand with his own and play with it himself, but before he could even move to do so, Jean was dropping his hands right back to Harry’s waist and sneezing all over his chest.

“AEGK’Tssch’uu!! Higk’TSschTtt! ‘TSCHh’uu!! Hh’TISH’ieww!!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Each sneeze sounded so incredibly desperate, so exhausted yet so overpowering, accompanied by a burst of thick spray. Harry’s cock drooled over his knuckles and he whined, low and loud. By the time the fourth sneeze had completed, Harry could feel (and see) the fabric of his shirt sticking to his chest, discoloured where the spray had dampened it. Jean’s tongue reflexively licked his bottom lip clean, thoroughly soaked by the force of his expulsions. He peered tentatively at Harry before his face eased into a relieved smile.

“You really do still like it. Getting drenched by my sneezes.” He was smiling – salacious and assured all at once.

“Yeahhh…Yeah, I really fucking do,” Harry sighed, staring at Jean adoringly as he worked over his cock with a renewed vigour. “Bless you.”

He all but purred the blessing out. It turned him on just as much as any dirty talk, he realised; it was a phrase that encapsulated his adoration, gratefulness and arousal all in one. Jean seemed to enjoy the attention, as well – his breath hitched in a decidedly non-sneeze fashion, and Harry smirked at him.

“Thank you.” Jean practically purred back, gently rubbing his thumbs against Harry’s sides. He stared back into Harry’s eyes, pupils blown so wide the pale irises were almost swallowed by black. “My nose tickles so fucking much. I just want to crawl into bed and sneeze until I fall asleep.”

Oooh, he was good at this. He had an undoubtedly extensive history of saying equally as specific things to Harry. The image of Jean curled up in bed and sneezing all over himself and his bed sheets was a potent one. Harry shivered, biting his lip hard as his knees quivered and struggled to keep from bending.

“Fuckkk…”

The arm he had leant against the copy machine was shaking too, elbow caving inwards and causing him to lean closer into Jean’s space. He didn’t seem to mind, nosing at Harry’s jawline and sniffling noisily. Poor fucking thing – he sounded so congested.

“Poor baby…” Harry breathed out, pressing a kiss to Jean’s cheek. If it was too intimate or too forward, the commotion of his impending orgasm made it very hard to give a fuck. The way Jean’s breath hitched and his solid build seemed to shiver a little at this crooning told him he was probably in the clear.

Jean suddenly pulled his face back from where he had been pressing a kiss to the underside of Harry’s jaw, frantically enough that Harry leant back himself to watch the inevitable unfold. Jean’s breath hitched again, this time due to the merciless persistency of his cold. His nostrils flared, damp and pink, threatening to overflow and make a mess of his moustache. Everything about his tortured pre-sneeze expression was a joy to behold. Harry could understand why he’d taken advantage of it many-a time before. His hand was a blur over his dick; he simply could not stop stroking and squeezing himself to the spectacle of it all. His brain conjured up the image of Kim, watching him watching Jean the way he’d done earlier that day, and he whimpered like a bitch in heat.

“KISHH’uuu!! IhGgKk’TSChhHU! ‘TShhiewww! Fucking h’hell…! hhAGK’TZShhiew!! ‘DZT’shieww!! Ihk’TSsschhttt!!”

Harry almost swooned as the sneezes caught his chin and the exposed column of his throat. He was hot, so fucking hot, even hotter with Jean’s too-warm body so close to his own. He could imagine the delicate aerosol of spray immediately sizzling and evaporating where it kissed his boiling skin.

“Ohh, fuck. Bless you, god, shit. M’gonna cum, gonna shoot…!”

“You make a mess of my uniform, you fucking die.”

Harry groaned through clenched teeth. If Jean didn’t want that, the last thing he should be doing was growling insults at Harry in that stupid, sexy voice of his. His cock throbbed, a decisive pre-orgasmic tremor of pleasure.

Jean seemed to realise any scolding or death-threats on his part were useless – he’d no doubt learned that, right on the brink of orgasm, a hoard of rabid zombies could be seconds away from attacking them both and Harrier Du Bois would be cumming his brains out even as the mauling commenced. Harry felt something press up against the head of his cock, moaning stupidly the second he realised it was the sodden tissue Jean had sneezed and snorted into. His body jerked with the first spasm of orgasm.

Through the roaring onset of his pleasure, he felt Jean wrap an arm round his waist whilst the other clamped the tissue to the spitting head of his cock. Both hands occupied, the younger man was pressing his face against the collar of his shirt, rubbing his nose frantically against him. Harry heard the deep groan he was making as the pleasure started to really crest, so fucking good, hours and hours of tension draining out of him with every blissful twitch of his tortured dick. When Jean’s breath started to hitch, he could feel the in and out of his expanding diaphragm, hear every minute snag in his breathing.

When Jean sneezed, an oh-so desperate triple, audibly and tangibly wet against his collar and bursting across his neck, he all but yelled as his orgasm sky-rocketed from pleasurable commotion to earth-shaking rapture.

“Hh’AHTTt’SHiewww!! KTSh’Schuu!! AEGKk’TSSHhh’uu!!”

His fingers spasmed uselessly against the copy machine, knees all but given out – Jean had had the right idea to hold him up. He was slumped against him, chest to chest, breathing as laboured as a bulldog as the final tremors of orgasm pulsed through him. He just leant there, propped up against Jean like a ragdoll and waiting for his body to cooperate. Jean was slowly rubbing his twitching, damp nose against his neck – it felt electric even in the aftermath of release.

“I never understood,” Jean started, speaking softly into the crook of his neck, “Why you ever felt the need to drink and do drugs the way you did when you can cum like that.”

Harry didn’t know what to say, his brain still a veritable puddle of goo. He’d like to know himself, but he was certain that this sudden resurgence of sex beginning in Martinaise with Kim had followed a relatively lengthy period of LDS – i.e. Limp Dick Syndrome. If he’d been having orgasms, they hadn’t been this fucking good. That he was certain he would have remembered.

“Hah,” He breathed out an awkward, monosyllabic laugh in lieu of anything even halfway intelligent. He smiled and panted, open-mouthed, at the sound of Jean’s responding scoff. He continued to lean there against the warm embrace of the younger man’s body until he felt him shifting in discomfort under his weight.

“Harry. Get off.”

He sighed, pushing himself off of Jean one-handed. He looked down between them, dick in his own hand whilst Jean’s patiently held the snot and cum-filled tissue in place as it threatened to overflow.

“Umm. Fuck. I think I have a handkerchief somewhere, hold on…” He started to root around in his blazer pockets, ignoring Jean’s glare as he unearthed one and started to wipe his hand and cock on the fabric.

“You had that the whole time and you let me use my last tissue to soak up your cum?” Jean rasped. Harry paused for a moment at how unwell he sounded.

“Sorry.” He flashed an apologetic grin at Jean, too blissed out to offer up any kind of excuse. He was getting sick of saying that he’d forgotten things, even if it was true.

“Whatever. Fuck.” Jean tossed the pulpy tissue into the nearby bin, following the trajectory with his eyes and looking pleased with himself when it landed on target.

Harry folded the handkerchief over, offering the clean surface of it to Jean, who took it wordlessly. He tucked his sensitive dick back into his pants, resisting the urge to start coaxing it back to full hardness as the sound of Jean’s lengthy, crackling nose blow forced a pathetic little twitch out of it in response.

Jean snuffled into the handkerchief, massaging his sore, red nostrils, seemingly perfectly content to stand there watching Harry. The older man noticed the prominent outline of the Satellite Officer’s erection, unattended to, straining against his trousers. He looked down at it then up at Jean again, wanting to broach the subject, but then paused, noticing the way Jean was frowning towards the general vicinity of his shoulder.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Jean swiped the handkerchief one last time under his nose before folding it over again and leaning forward.

“Hold still.”

Harry did so, obediently standing in place as Jean scrubbed at the collar of his shirt. He smiled like a dope as he realised his partner was attempting to clean away the prodigious results of that last triple.

“Messy boy.”

“Shut your damn mouth.”

“Is there even any clean fabric left on that handkerchief?”

“Shut up, Harry.”

Harry did. He felt like he was dangerously at risk of swaying in place, the endorphins and release after all the teasing and buildup leaving him far too loose and carefree. Jean pulled back at last, pocketing the handkerchief and rearranging Harry’s shirt collar and necktie. He looked up at Harry, catching him in the act of staring at his face, at the way his dark eyelashes fanned over his cheeks as he worked to smooth Harry out in an almost mechanical fashion. He flashed a little smirk his way, then yanked his tie just so.

“You’re lucky I didn’t use this hideous thing to clean up my mess.” He purred, the raspiness of his voice only adding to the allure. Harry swore under his breath.

“Are you trying to work me up for round two?” He whined. Jean dropped his tie.

“Absolutely the fuck not. Are you going to do your fucking job now?”

Harry sighed. What a fucking buzzkill.

“Yes. Yes I’ll do my job, you win. Although…” He leaned forward, pressing his mouth right up to Jean’s ear and murmuring in a low voice, “I’d like to do you first.”

Jean shivered and huffed a little laugh.

“That was fucking awful, oh my god.”

But he didn’t push him away. He wrapped his arms round Harry’s shoulders instead, humming in approval as Harry kissed his neck and trailed one broad hand down his torso before draping it across the bulge in his pants. He sighed, a gorgeous little exhalation of pleasure that sent shivers down Harry’s spine as he started to unzip his pants.

“Do you want this?” He asked even as his hand collected the moisture from Jean’s tip and spread it down his shaft, stroking him firmly.

“Hahh…Yeah. Mm’fucking tired though. So forgive me for – hah!” He cut himself off with his own frantic moaning. He didn’t bother to elaborate; Harry imagined he really was exhausted if his mouthy self was starting to economise his own verbosity.

What Jean lacked in words was more than made up with by the sweet, continuous stream of moans he let out next to Harry’s ear as he wrapped himself around him, resting his head on his shoulder as the older officer kissed and licked the shell of his ear, whispering words of encouragement and praise. His hand moved instinctually over Jean’s length – at least the easy muscle memory, built up over years of fucking, remained where his active memory did not. He clenched his teeth, pushing back the bitter thoughts and focusing on Jean’s gasps and sighs, the little “Ohh fuck”s and “Like that”s he would occasionally choke out as Harry stroked and teased. His own cock was hard again, but he ignored it, speeding up his pace as Jean’s hips started to buck arrhythmically.

He pulled back to watch Jean’s face as he fell to pieces – a different kind of vulnerability twisting his features into a mask of pleasure, though it wasn’t all that different from the irritated expression a pre-sneeze tickle would take. It was achingly familiar – a face he’d no doubt been made to make hundreds of times before at the mercy of Harry’s hands, his mouth, his cock. He’d watched Jean cum when the three of them had fucked, but this was different – just the two of them together in god knows how long, for the first time since the drugs and booze and misery made him an utterly reprehensible waste of skin. Watching those dark eyelashes flutter like that made his chest tight.

“Harrier, fuckkk…gonna cum-! Fuck!”

Jean started to convulse almost immediately, a shuddering gasp wrenching itself out of him as he trembled in Harry’s grip. Harry caught the spurts of semen with his free hand, a moment too late as the first spasm painted a white stripe over the yellow fabric of the thigh he’d pressed between Jean’s legs. He was too blissed out to care, kissing the corner of Jean’s open mouth as he continued to orgasm, mewling as the pleasure overpowered him. He ejaculated into the cage of Harry’s fingers a couple more times before he sagged in exhaustion, clinging to Harry and moaning, blushing face pressed firmly into the shoulder of his blazer. His voice broke on that last, whimpering vocalisation and Harry’s heart ached for him.

He stood patiently as Jean caught his breath and clung to him like a lifeline. One hand awkwardly closed around the dripping mess of Jean’s orgasm whilst the other loosely gripped his sticky, softening cock. He’d have to wait for Jean to unlock the door of the copy room first, holding both sticky hands upright until he located the nearest sink to wash them off. He supposed he could lick them clean – cum wasn’t the worst taste in the world – but the depravity of it would just make him horny all over again. He may as well just take his own cock out and use Jean’s cum as lube.

He was pulled out of this particular train of thought at the sensation of Jean trembling several times against him. The realisation that he was muffling a series of tiny little sneezes into near silence against his shoulder was doing absolutely nothing to keep the blood out of his insatiable cock. He closed his eyes and pictured his paperwork instead.

“Sorry…” Jean muttered, sniffling as he extracted his face from the makeshift covering.

“It’s okay.” Harry murmured, kissing his cheek. He frowned; Jean’s skin felt even warmer under his lips than before. “You’re burning up, Vic.”

Jean sighed.

“I figured as much.”

He unwrapped his hands from around Harry’s shoulders, looking queerly at him as if he didn’t understand why Harry was still stood there with a hand on his wilting cock until he realised the older man’s predicament.

“Oh, uhh…I’ll get you some paper towels. Wait here.”

Harry waited, eyes closed and replaying Jean’s sneezes and his orgasm over and over in his mind, opening them only once he felt the younger man gently wiping his hands clean. He smiled weakly at Jean, and Jean smiled back at him – shy, boyish. At odds with the lines of stress and exhaustion that marred his face, aging him beyond his years.

“I never meant to hurt you.” It was pouring out of him before he had a chance to think twice. Jean sighed, working on Harry’s other hand.

“Harry. You never meant to do any of the things you did, or so you keep telling me. I don’t need to hear this again. Not right now.”

His smile was replaced by the regular hard line of his everyday frown. Harry could have kicked himself.

“I’m sorry, Jean. I really am. I can’t understand why I did the things I did to you. Will you look at me?”

Jean hesitated, then peered up at him under eyelashes dampened by tears. Harry leaned forward and kissed each of his eyelids, lips coming away salty and damp.

“I never want to put you through any of that again. And I won’t.”

Jean’s lips quirked into a tiny, defeated smile – one that said he didn’t really trust him, but wanted to believe in him more than he ever had before. Harry considered it a success, and pressed their foreheads together for lack of anything better to do whilst his hands were still sticky, though notably less so than before. Jean uttered a soft little hum.

“You just jerked me off and this is somehow even gayer.”

Harry laughed.

“Fuck you, man. You’re ten times gayer than me.”

He kissed Jean for all of five seconds before the younger man couldn’t breathe, ducking into Harry’s shoulder and coughing all over his blazer. Harry winced – the dreamy haze of afterglow was beginning to fade and Jean did not sound good.

“You’re so getting this now. I hope you’re happy.” Jean muttered, wiping his mouth dry with the back of his hand.

“If you think for one second I regret doing any of that, you are sorely mistaken.”

“Hm. Whatever you say, superstar.” Jean drawled, tossing the soiled paper towels into the bin alongside the shredded remains of tissue. “Now, move it. You need to wash your hands and do your fucking work.”

Harry sighed and followed him out of the room, casting one quick glance back over his shoulder to assess the damage. Nothing, thankfully. Just the spray on his shirt and the cum on his leg.

~~~~~

Jean had gone home shortly after their excursion in the copy room, leaving Harry unsupervised. He had done some paperwork, but he had also called Kim from his desk phone when he was sure the race had ended and relayed the entire turn of events to him. He’d also jerked himself off again reliving it all, moaning stupidly down the receiver as he came. He was happy to hear the Lieutenant’s own groan of completion, and he’d ended the call, promising to talk again tomorrow. And not a moment too soon – the bullpen was suddenly flooded by a stream of Junior patrol officers, returning amidst a blessed lull in criminal activity.

The next few days at work had been uneventful. Busy, but monotonous. He’d gone out to dinner with Kim, and they’d fucked. Jean had miraculously allowed himself a solitary sick day, surprising them all. He’d returned the following day, still sick but markedly improved. And that had been that.

Until Jean’s cold finally caught up to him and Harry became a sneezing, sniffling mess almost overnight. He’d dragged himself to work and had hardly had 15 minutes free of sneezing since he’d arrived. He’d figured that Jean’s general nasal sensitivities had been the main cause of the sheer number of times that he’d been sneezing with the same affliction, but no. It was easily one of the tickliest, sneeziest colds he had ever encountered – even worse than his cold in Martinaise.

He wanted to lie around and sneeze in bed, away from the scorn and watchful eyes of his fellow officers. But no dice – he had to work, he had to get through this fucking case and oh – oh god. He had to sneeze.

“IIIEEEEESSSSSHHHTTTTttt!!!”

The sneeze had been cunning and entirely malevolent, not giving him the dignity of even a short buildup before the tickle spiked sharply and it was bursting out of him. It hadn’t been messy, thank god, but it had been wet, and his paperwork had taken the brunt of it as the force propelled him over his desk. He groaned, rubbing the underside of his sore, tickly nostrils with the back of his hand. The files were dappled with moisture, the ink of his chicken scratch handwriting bleeding across the page where the worst of the damage had been done.

Nobody had been passing within range of the spray this time, at least. The surrounding area of Harry’s desk had now been dubbed the less than subtle title of ‘The Splash Zone’, following McClaine’s misfortune to be making his way across the room and in front of Harry the second a particularly violent sneeze worked its way out of him – and all over the younger officer’s blazer. Harry had apologised, but in all honesty didn’t feel the least bit sorry for him – or his ugly, checkered jacket.

He snuffled thickly, wiping his runny nose across any remaining dry skin to be found on his arm and wrist. This fucking sucked. He had known the risks. He had willingly exposed himself to Jean’s cold for the sake of a nut. He had nobody to blame but himself. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t feel utterly, miserably sorry for himself. He cradled his forehead in his hands, doing nothing for the preternatural nasal drainage but feeling too rotten to care.

A shuffling noise prompted him to glance towards the source of the disturbance. Kim was using a pen to nudge a tissue box, half-emptied by Harry this morning alone, closer to him and into his line of vision. Harry peered over in bemusement as Kim, mission accomplished, settled back down into his own chair, looking back at Harry with a mixture of exasperation and concern.

“You really should cover your mouth, Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor.”

Harry sighed, helping himself to a bundle of tissues.

“Sorry. I know. They’ve been sneaking up on me, is all.” He finished before blowing his nose with a resultant sound so thick and crackling that all other noise in the office seemed to dim in comparison.

“Oh, believe me, I’ve noticed.” Kim muttered, returning to his own work with a resigned sigh.

Harry knew he was referring to the way he had been sneezed on this morning, lying in bed as they shared a kiss. It had absolutely destroyed any chance of morning sex and earned Harry one of the iciest looks he had ever received from Kim. He counted himself lucky that Kim was not one to resort to physical violence when slighted, and that his blubbering, heartfelt apology was entirely successful in transforming Kim’s anger into a wilting, stony-faced acceptance.

“I really do have no means of avoiding this illness, now.”

For as bad as Harry had felt about the whole thing, he couldn’t deny that that admission of defeat and the mere thought of Kim catching his cold – this ridiculously sneezy cold – made his cock feel hard enough to cut glass.

A folder of documents was slapped down on his desk with a sudden, resounding slap, making Harry jump and swear behind the tissues. He peered up at Jean, looking almost radiant with healthiness compared the to the state he had been in several days prior.

“From the Boogie Street Stabbing case.” He smiled down at Harry, looking cocky and amused.

“You look like you’re feeling better.” Harry spat, dropping the soiled tissues on his desk and tossing the folder to the right with the rest of the ‘to be returned to’ pile. Jean smiled even wider.

“Apparently the best way to get over a cold is to give it to someone else.”

He directed his best shit-eating grin at Harry, eyes brighter and more focused than they had been in days.

“Wonderful.” Kim grumbled almost inaudibly to the side. He really wasn’t looking forward to getting sick, and Harry could sympathise. He made a mental note to spoil Kim rotten the second he started to feel under the weather. Jean didn’t seem to have heard him, and if he had, he was staunchly ignoring him and favouring bothering Harry the same way a bored child would tease a grumpy old dog.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than rub your health in my face?” Harry snuffled emphatically.

“You’ve rubbed much worse in mine. Consider this pay back.” He turned to leave, but at last minute turned around and deposited another folder – a thick, evil looking dossier on some mob boss or other – on Harry’s desk. “And this, too.”

Harry gaped at him in dismay.

“You’re cruel and unusual!” He groaned after a retreating Jean. His partner merely smirked and flipped him off. It was aggravating, but mischievous and about as light-hearted as Jean was currently capable of. Harry felt, through the weariness of his progressing sickness, a sense of relief. He flipped the bird right back at him, hoping he didn’t look too paradoxically gleeful as he did so.

Jean didn’t seem to notice this capriciousness, just patted his pocket to check for his carton of cigarettes and angled his head towards Judit.

“Jude – smoke break?”

“You shouldn’t be smoking anything – you should still be in bed.”

She followed him outside all the same, more to keep an eye on him than anything else, ready to provide medical attention should he suddenly cough up a lung. Harry envied her immune system – it seemed having kids constantly bringing bugs home was a truly effective form of inoculation to just about anything that was passed around the bullpen.

He watched them leave absentmindedly – before yet another cruel, bullying sneeze tore its way out of him.

“HAAAAEEISSSHHHhh!!...HUH! HAHHHGGGTTSSSSSHHh’uuu!!”

And it brought a friend along with it. A messy friend. Harry clapped a hand over his mouth several seconds too late, muttering an exhausted ‘fuck’ and snuffling into the cage of his fingers. Not getting any warning was incredibly inconvenient but the force of the sneezes, how they sent shivers of pleasure down his spine…that he could appreciate.

“Say it, don’t spray it, Mullen!”

That was Mack, shouting across the bullpen and earning a couple of sniggers in return. He was a meathead, and it was a juvenile, unoriginal and otherwise comically cliché comment. It wouldn’t have bothered Harry in the least had his sneezes been intentionally intrusive, but the fact that he was totally at their mercy brought a light flush of shame to his cheeks. He just wanted to go home and jerk off. He flipped the bird in Torson’s general direction and reached for another tissue.

Kim beat him to it, pressing a bundle of fresh tissues into his palm. Harry looked up and flashed him an appreciative glance, replacing his hand with the tissue. The Lieutenant stood next to his desk, a file underarm, ready to be submitted to Captain Pryce.

“Bless you.” He offered quietly. Harry tried as hard as he could not to visibly squirm. Kim smiled at him. “Was it w-worth...!”

Harry stared adoringly up at him, thanking all his lucky stars for Kim and his ridiculously suggestible nose. If he had a tail, it would be wagging back and forth in a veritable whirlwind of excitement, thumping against the back of his chair.

Kim’s nostrils flared violently and his gaze unfocused, even as he valiantly fought to prevent his eyes from closing. It’s too late, Harry thought. My paradigm is infallible. You’re going to sneeze. He was right, of course; within seconds, Kim’s expression was cinching tight and he was sneezing convulsively into a handful of tissues, plucked frantically from the box on Harry’s desk just in time.

“NGxtt! Hh’NGxt’tzschu!! Hh! hhdt’Tszchhuuu!! Fucking hell…”

In much the same way as Kim had been unable to fight the natural reflexes of his body, so too had Harry. His cock twitched in his pants, filling with blood in an instant. Even if Kim didn’t catch his cold, his own sneezing was an inevitability – which meant so too was Kim’s. Fuck, but he was going to have even more fun with this.

“Bless you!” He offered back, heart thumping so hard in his chest he could hear his pulse in his ears. “And honestly? I think it was worth every second.”

He laughed as Kim tossed his balled up tissues at him and strode irritably out of the room.

#this fic was fighting me but i NEEDED to finish it. just HAD to #i have like....1 1/2 finished K/im fics i didn't want to post before i finished this one as well lol #nametakenfic #d/isco e/lysium #sneeze fic #sneeze kink #snz fet #snz kink #snz fucker #snzblr #sneeze fucker

[bitchb0ybunny]

Brand New City

(Keegan P. Russ x Reader)

COD men are my roman empire, PLEASE SEND ME ASKS IM BEGGING- I NEED SOMETHING TO WRITE ABOUT SO I CAN GET OUT OF MY OWN SKIN (this is a cry for help, I'm supposed to be focusing on finals but I cant get these scrunkly ass military men outta my head, so enjoy this spew from the depths of my sleep deprived mind..)

Keegan wasn't sure how he got here.. One minute, he was fighting Federation soldiers alongside Hesh, Merrick, and the Walker brothers and now he was... God, where even was he right now?? It was dark and cold.. He still had his mask, tactical gear, and weapons, but it was like he had been transported to an entirely new goddamn universe.

The city looked clean, it was something he wasn't used to. The Federation had destroyed everything years ago, back when he was in his late 20s or early 30s, he couldn't quite remember, but this place.. It was completely spotless, besides the normal city trash and critters wandering the dark alley he found himself in. He definitely did not miss this air quality, he had only been wherever here was for less than 5 minutes and he was already feeling like his lungs could collapse at any moment.. But the more he stands here, confused, the more.. Familiar this gets. Cautiously, he steps out of the alleyway he was in, ending up on a city street lined with shops that twinge with familiarity for reasons unknown to him. The sidewalk was empty besides himself, and the street was mostly empty besides a few cars that drive by every five or so minutes as he walks down the pavement in a random direction- the direction that just felt right. He didn't know where he was, but being a Ghost for most of his life has gotten him to trust his gut no matter what.

And he does just that.

He heads in whatever direction he feels like he's supposed to go, turning down side streets and such whenever he feels like he's supposed to, it's.. Almost concerning how his gut knows this city but his mind doesn't. Everything is in-tact, theres no destroyed buildings or cliffs that clearly hadn't been there when the roads were paved and parking garages made, it looked like a city from before the Federation bombed the States.. Had he gone back in time? No, no, that's not possible. Had he died? Was this his version of hell, or maybe heaven? How did he even get here?

He wasn't sure of anything anymore.

It took about two hours of walking until he stopped, suddenly the feeling of familiarity vanished and everything was so unfamiliar that it made him feel sick. Made him feel like he was going to vomit all over the pavement.. But then a jingle of a bell rang out as a door opened across the street, voices rang out in the night as people bid each other goodbye and went on their separate ways. The sounds of talking and jingling didn't seem to help curb this feeling of sickness, uneasiness, in fact the voices made him feel worse. He felt dizzy, his vision was spinning and he couldn't stand right, whatever was making him suddenly feel ill was getting worse. His legs gave out beneath him, and suddenly one of the voices from before got louder.. The last thing his vision managed to focus on was an all-too familiar face, the face he saw in his dreams and the face that haunted his nightmares, staring down at him with an all-too familiar concerned expression that made his heart clench.

It was you. You, who had become one of the many casualties caused by The Federation the day they bombed the United States. You, who had plagued his mind for years. You, who he kept a picture of on his person all the time so they could be with him all the time. You, who loved him dearly, even with your last breath.

#cod x reader #cod:ghosts #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan p russ x reader #keegan russ #keegan russ x you #cod keegan #keegan x reader #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #mentions of death #mentions of bombs #cod ghosts campaign story #cod x you #gender neutral reader #gender neutral post #Call of Duty #please help me they have me in a chokehold and i cant escape #like seriously send me asks so i can get them out of my head

[httpshujii]

𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 彡 In which . . . Suguru's hug is the deepest hug you've ever had.

For my lovely Nat @natdu

〔CW〕 — Nothing !!

〔CW〕 — THIS TOOK WAY LONGER THAN EXPECTED AND IM SORRY!! I do want to dedicate this post to Izzy @saesins im rly sry for how late this is but happy late birthday my love :>

He's so enchanting, with his voice and his words. With his gaze and smile. With his natural elegance and charm. He's everything you want and more.

But how do you even approach someone as great as him? Tapping your pen against your desk, you gaze out at the afternoon sky, watching how the clouds swim away.

He's so pretty.

You love the smell of empty classrooms, spending most of your time there as you write stupid love letters or drawing little hearts and flowers around his name.

You just want him to look at you and think the best thoughts ever.

It's stupid.

You wait and wait, looking at your wrist watch and begging for the time of when he comes by and makes the first move.

But by pushing yourself away, how do you expect him to notice you if you just hide?

He wishes you could be more forward.

He wants to talk to you about anything and everything, he wants to see you, he wants to hear your voice, your laugh, he wants to see you smile and frown, he just wants to see you.

He wants to touch you, caress your hair, poke your cheek, hold your hand, kiss you, hug you.

He wants to interact with you in any way possible or he might lose it.

Suguru Geto is straight forward with the things he wants. And he wants you, right this second, as he "attempts" to listen to Gojo yap about whatever it is he's talking about.

Soon. He reminds himself, but how long has it been?

"Too long to count," Gojo's words.

Groaning and overwhelmed, "I'm gonna do it."

"Hah?" The white haired boy was just about to chew on his mochi, looking towards the ravenette with an arched brow.

"I'm gonna confess."

"Yeah right."

"I swear!"

"He's right there Shoko!" Frantically grabbing onto your friend's arm, watching as your crush walks back into the ground of Jujutsu Tech.

"Indeed he is," she sounds bored, popping the lollipop out of her mouth, "Here he comes too."

"What." It's not a question, and Shoko's not lying. The taller male approaching you with that kind smile and thin eyes.

"Hey," Oh wow, is what you think. Gazing up at him as if he's the angel that's about to take you to heaven.

"Hi..."

Shoko laughs and walks away, leaving the two of you alone. But you don't like that, you attention shifts to the girl that's skipping away happily, glancing back at you and wiggling her brows as you silently tell her to get her ass back here.

"[Name]," he calls softly. Sending ripples of beats through your entire body, you're vibrating slightly.

"Hm?" You don't turn back to face him fully before he's hugging you tightly. Lifting your body up against his, strong arms wrapping around your middle, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

It takes you a good minute to understand what's happening. And it takes you a good minute to wrap your own arms around him. Slowly and hesitantly.

"I know this is weird and you're probably uncomfortable," he says, his voice muffled as he hides into your skin, inhaling the scent of your perfume, "but I've wanted to tell you that I really like you."

Pink roses bloom on your cheeks, a small gasp leaving your parted lips, you don't know what to say and you don't know how to say anything at this point.

So you just squeeze back, hoping it's enough to convey your unspoken confessions.

Suguru's hug is deep, it's strong and meaningful, bold and simple, thick and thin.

It speaks complicated words and simple ones, this hug is everything you needed and more.

You feel complete now, not having to worry about the pressure of crushing on someone that might not notice you because he's with you now.

He's yours now.

And you're his now.

You cuddle yourself closer, twirling a finger around a strand of his hair. It took either of you long enough to share each other's feelings.

But the wait was worth it.

h4nman © 2023. Do not copy, modify, or translate my work. You do not have my permission to recommend my work outside of tumblr, thank you !

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @natdu @kitorin

Here's my TAGLIST !

#[𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧] #✶≼[JUJUTSU KAISEN] #ஜ˳༄꠶ SUGURU #ఌ︎. [SUGURU] #suguru geto #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #geto x y/n #geto x female reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk geto #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen

[hanasnx]

In your opinion, what's the dirtiest line you've ever written, in either public works, wips, or stuff not posted? Something that when you look at it you can't help but think "damnnn I fuckin ate"

babe. im ngl here… my favorite part of writing porn is dirty talk. this is an insanely good question, seriously i love it. but i think “damn i fckn ate” every time i put out a post that features dirty talk, especially shit with degradation involved. i’m bragging, i know. there’s one line that sticks out that i remember being kinda iffy about, until i wrote an entire drabble around it and it got a lot of compliments.

it had me in a chokehold til i wrote it, making up an entire post around it so i had an excuse to use it. it was:

“You like it when I hump you like a dog, huh?” - dry humping

one that wasn’t posted was in a discord message to my friend donnie literally today that read as follows:

i’m imagining anakin’s body weight on her while he’s curling his abdomen to fuck in her between her ass cheeks. his hand on her hairline and her hair is everywhere, it’s knotted and stuck in her lips and in her eyelashes. his other hand is on her neck and his lips are on her ear saying shit like: “you like it, baby? i’m doing this for you. can’t even feel anything, you’re not tight enough. clench for me, huh? give me something. or are you just gonna let me do all the work?”

and she’s spittling all up in her locks when she’s sputtering, “sorry, daddy, sorry. m’trying. i’ll do better.”

his hand tightens and it shuts her up cos it cuts off her air. “fuck yeah, you’ll do better, otherwise i’ll fuck you and make it hurt. that’ll get you tightened up. squeeze my cock like you’re supposed to.”

some honorable posted mentions are:

☥ adultfilm au

☥ talk huttese to me

☥ a lesson in huttese

that had so many lines i loved that i can’t possibly pick out of them. loved this ask

#tw daddy kink #tw breath play #indy lore #thanks for the msg!! #anakin #anakin skywalker smut

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

people's reaction to avery getting kidnapped head canons

the person who requested the jameson kidnapping head canons also requested i do this for avery so here it is! this is my only post today cause i had no time to write last night (i write them at night but post in the morning). hope you like them <3. @never-enough-novels asked to be tagged and also inspired some of these hcs.

jameson:

he'd immediately get out his emergency alcohol stash for situations like this. it contains all of the strongest, most expensive alcohol on the market.

he is looking for clues day and night. he does not stop to eat, drink, sleep, talk (unless it has to do with clues or smth), breathe, etc.

at some point, though, he faints due to overworking himself and shit and he wakes up in nash's arms. he starts wailing and nash is there stroking his hair comforting him cause he can't breathe.

he would literally murder the person who kidnapped her the second he found them. he'd probably plunge a knife into his dick and electrocute his balls (if he's a guy).

he'd kiss her all over and cuddle her the second they got her back. he would literally not let anyone touch her and he wouldn't let go of her (not even to let the doctors and professionals give her a check up to make sure she’s alright, he’d insist on doing it himself with the doctor’s instructions).

grayson:

has literally hired all of the best private investigators/police officers in the world to help cause he knows that the longer it takes to find her, the more chances there are she's already dead (and he doesn't like knowing she's suffering)

he'd be thinking up the worst case scenarios in his head (jamie too). torture/murder/SA, etc.

he's being reminded of emily the whole time and how he lost her. he thinks the same is happening to avery

he's clinging onto xander the entire time bc he's freaking out and running around everywhere, and someone needs to make sure xander doesn't accidently fall out of a window.

ends up stealing from jamie's emergency alcohol stash bc he's dying on the inside.

xander (he's extremely worried and sad but im gonna make some slightly funnier hcs cause yk):

it happens so often he created some sort of emergency alert system that goes off on everyone's phone when she goes missing (dont ask me how this works).

actually considers buying cocaine to loosen up (and actually buys it). nash catches him coming back home though and runs around after him trying to smack his head whilst xander is also running and swinging himself off of tree branches to escape his scary ass brother.

the entire situation in my last head canon convinced xander to try to act like a monkey for an entire to day to see what it would be like and note the differences between how humans and monkeys act (although he doesn't do it while avery is gone cause he's too scared about her dying and shit)

doesn't actually end up doing drugs though and gives it to the police officers cause they are being run dry by grayson and he pities them.

he's creating a gift bag/care package for avery for when she returns. he's gaslit himself into thinking there's a 100% possibility that she is returning (the one time he's allowed himself to calculate smth wrongly)

trying to pretend this is an episode of keeping up with the kardashians (even though he hates the kardashians) to lighten things up.

nash:

steals cocaine from the police officers bc he needs it too. he is completely freaking out.

in a corner holding libby in his arms, rocking her back and forth, telling her everything will be ok, and that he'll do anything in his power to get avery back.

literally puts the handcuffs on the kidnapper himself and drags his ass to jail (not before giving him a good beating)

he's cleaning up all of the branches that xander ripped off of the trees somehow when he was running away from him.

after the kidnapping, he literally does not let avery out of his sight. he's is constantly following her and keeping oren company during his night shifts.

libby:

literally crying in the corner having a panic attack. she's trying to curl in on herself and make herself small in order to not bother the officers and stuff. (sad ik but i think this is in character)

she's binge eating bc that's when she does when she's nervous but can't bring herself to bake stuff.

at some point tried to go bake but thought the huge bag of cocaine xander got his hands on was flour and she ended up ruining the batch of cupcakes (this was close to when they found avery so it didn't mess with the investigation. also they realized not long after they were baked so..)

helping xander create the gift bag/care package bc he offered and she needs a distraction.

the second they find the kidnapper, she bashed this guy so hard he ended up crying. people just stared at her in shock bc they did not know she could talk to someone like that (but also impressed)

max:

she is considering taking the drugs xander bought but is scared her mom will somehow find out.

she's trying to convince xander that he is not capable of playing in the next tarzan film just bc he's capable of swinging on tree branches

when they find the kidnapper, she swears so hard (not her fake swearing) people are terrified. she looks like she'd be capable of killing everyone in the room in one sweep. (even grayson and oren are scared)

she's knitting a blanket with nan in order to get her hands to do smth other than shake and shit. nan tries to get her to talk about all of the gossip at her school and stuff to distract her.

she adds the kidnapper's name to her burn book.

alisa:

she is literally having an aneurysm trying to stop grayson from getting the entire hawthorne family canceled cause he's treating the officers like shit.

actually hugs and kisses avery's cheek when they find her. she was terrified but would never admit that to anyone.

oren:

he is constantly on coffee runs trying to keep everyone awake so they can find avery.

hooks up with zara after they find her bc he needs to unwind somehow.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs #grayson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #libby grambs #alisa ortega #averyjameson #maxine liu #john oren

[weirdmageddon]

ur davejade posting has me Remembering and goddddd. theyre so good. thank u

i want to make a davejade analysis masterpost but the funniest thing with these asks is that theyre the ones that really prompt me to put my thoughts together in some direction and i ALWAYS find a new implication or connection to talk about. like while i’m writing the connections will just make themselves known. if i made a masterpost i’d have to update it every time i think of something new which defeats the purpose of a masterpost because it’d never be finished. so i just like to spitball into separate posts and just shove them in my davejade tag. i was NOT expecting to get back into homestuck with davejade at the forefront but i can see things now i didnt then

im gonna go off again because it’s so obvious to me on this jumpy scrambled “reread” that dave has a fat fucking heart-on / affection erection for jade. hes tryin soo hard to be cool but hes like this with jade actually behind the screen and she knows it

words and deeds of a court jester dude who totally has a crush on his childhood internet friend and doesnt acknowledge it (btw this is woefully incomplete for the sake of brevity but i could elaborate in another post. i actually have a draft (edit: posted) with a shit ton of more analysis stuff in it on why he acts differently with her than other characters):

the next day (chronologically) when jade messages him:

hussie commentary: “Dave's one-pixel-smile there means that there are literally more than ten thousand drawings on the internet of Dave and Jade kissing. That pixel literally made that happen.”

i mean … it sure is easy to assume how he feels about jade based on the way he talks to her and when his sprite only ever smiles one other time in the entire fucking comic and the reality of that other one was arguable since it was during [S] Karkat: Mental breakdown and its likely karkat was hallucinating it based on the content and context of the flash

nah this one was real. and it was from the first conversation we saw between dave and jade in the comic and thus set the standard for their dynamic. and remember old school 2009 dave was kind of a menace so it says a lot

this girl was special enough to him to warrant that pixel

jade calling dave a “huge baby” for him getting nervous about a piss while she’s his server player. he makes such a big deal about it while shes like oh my god just go:

and the absurdity of the situation being one of his favorite memories

i know pesterquest isn’t “canon” canon but it passes my character essence check and still contributes something of substance to my argument. like i can say this is not at all out of place if these characters were plopped into these scenarios. remember this takes place on the same day as the above, 4/13/2009. theyre the same age as above and have the same relationship as they did above, just in a different scenario that wasn’t possible in canon wherein they didn’t play sburb

Jade wanders away from that window and toward another one, whose view is exclusively centered on the rolling blue. She presses a hand against the misty pane and sighs. JADE: you know, dave talks a lot about coming to visit me here. i mean, all of my friends do but dave especially JADE: in his usual davey way of course, which means making lots of jokes and not sounding very serious about it JADE: "yeah im itching to put on my safari hat and come traipsing down to doomdeath archipelago to get my ass murdered by infinidog the eldritch retriever," stuff like that JADE: i know he really means it though! he wants to see me, just like i want to see him JADE: but its just wishful thinking

anyway daves reaction to seeing his isolated online friend for the first time irl cry because she has guests. its even better with the character sprites

JADE: we can play with all my toys and jam out to some music and stay up all night chatting with each other and oh my god oh my god youre here youre all here this is really happening!!!!! Jade's next laugh verges on hysterical and she's got tears streaked down her cheeks. Dave looks a little perturbed. DAVE: wow holy shit uh DAVE: its cool jade no need to get so DAVE: like this DAVE: kind of fucks me up seeing you cry DAVE: not that im trying to make this all about me DAVE: i mean uh

and so after mspa reader’s intervention, who do we see with jade the next time we see her?

dave. and hes goofing with her squiddles while grinning

DAVE: okay so lets see what we got here Jade's room is bright and cheery, fresh flowers in the hanging pots, curtains pulled open wide to let in the afternoon sunlight. Jade sits on her bed while Dave paces in front of a line of squiddle toys, carefully assembled in neat ranks. DAVE: this blue one is clearly in charge look at his dominant posture DAVE: also hes the only motherfucker not tentacle deep in his homie DAVE: hes an untangled buddy that is some shit really cuts to the core of like DAVE: DAVE: emotions JADE: its actually because the magnets in him are messed up, and always have been!! DAVE: harley you are ruining the magic come on

basically what im putting together is that dave was REALLY fixin to spend some time with jade. extending into her sphere of interests that he doesnt express much with anyone else; you can tell he really wanted to engage with her in a less irony poisoned way. he’s softer with her than his other friends and god forbid the trolls, he is much less skeptical about things when talking to her (he even questions why he just seems to go along with her eccentric precognitive statements but he doesnt change his attitude about it), he showers her with his music and raps to the point where jade is expectant of getting poetry from him. rap IS poetry. please realize that dave is sending her his poetry, regardless of how goofy it may be. this is the level on which im viewing this at and once you realize this theres no going back. there comes a time in every homestuck’s life where they have to see how dave interacted jade and conclude that he had a cute little puppy crush on her unbeknownst to either of them. and it was adorable. and now, in the year 2023, it’s your time to realize this too. no going back.

and btw it all came back around…………………nimblest son of a bitch who had the gumption to glue a nasty pair of latex cat lips to his face

for a reason that wasnt a joke anymore

don’t think ive seen anyone talk about this parallel at the end to one of their first conversations in the comic. maybe somebody did back in the day but i never saw it

#davejade #homestuck #dave strider #jade harley #hs

[bigwishes]

New Profession

This is my half of a trade with @idesofrevolution​

Make sure to keep an eye out for when he drops my transformation story. ------------------------------------------------

It had been probably the longest work week you’d had in months, the holiday season meant lots to get done and lots of over time without the bonus pay. You’d heard talk about a new bar that had opened up down town and thought you should go check it out. As much as you wanted to stay in and rest there was a nagging in your head, telling you that you had to go out and it had to be tonight.

You texted a few friends trying to organise a group thing but everyone was busy. You had no choice but to go alone.

-- It was about 10pm when you finally made it to the bar, you’d checked the set line up and seen mostly indie folk bands performing until about 10:30 so you thought it’d be a good idea to skip that snooze fest and show up a bit before the alternative rock bands came on.

Inside was your fairly standard bar, nothing too out of the ordinary although you weren’t sure what you were expecting, it felt like you were still waiting for something, something different about this place but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. You weren’t entirely sure were to put yourself the sea of indie folk fans were moving out and a horde of alternate rock fans were pouring in. It was like a mismatched zoo of hipsters and stoners colliding. You clung to the bar anchoring yourself in the room and ordered a drink.

The bartender attempted to do a cool glass slide over to you but put too much force behind the swing, you watched as the glass shot into you hand and whilst you caught it the momentum was too much for the liquor inside. The dark liquor ran up the side of the glass like a mini tsunami and flew right into your lap. You weren’t sure what you were mad at more, the fact that it looks like you’ve now pissed your jeans or the fact that you paid $22 for a drink you didn’t even get a sip of.

“aw fuck man” you yelled out looking at your wet crotch and the puddle on the barstool. “yo man, I, Im so sorry” the bar tender sheepishly responded  “What the fuck am I gonna do?” “Hey listen, go use the staff bathroom round the back, clean up. There should be a pair of pants in the lost and found” The bartender took you round the back of the shelves and up to a slim metal door. Inside was a nice looking bathroom, well kept wooden aesthetic. This place definitely looks after its staff you thought to yourself. In the corner of the room was a small plastic box with lost and found taped to the front. You began digging through the clothes for something in your size and found a pair of shiny purple pants with a studded belt attached. Sure those pants were definitely....a statement and they smelt like they hadn’t been washed in a few weeks but it was better than going back out there looking like you couldn’t find a bathroom.

You took your wet jeans off and slipped into the other pair of pants. They felt grimy, like someone had spent the day sweating in them and then simply dried them out instead of washing them. You clicked the belt up and felt a chill run up your spine. You watched the muscles and sinew pulse under your skin. You legs and ass filled out the pants whilst your arms tightened into lengths of lean muscle tissue. A slight burning sensation was felt on your chest. Opening your shirt you saw small tattoos begin to form.

In shock you undid the belt and watched as your body reverted to normal. standing there in your underwear for a moment a devilish thought crossed your mind. The perfect chance to cut loose was right here, you could pretend to be someone else, act however you wanted and then go back to normal when it was all over. You did the belt up once again and smiled as you watched the changes unfold.

Leaving the bathroom you heard the bands begin to play and you wanted to get out in the crowd to see what you’d get away with. Hitting on as many guys as possible, dancing on tables, hell even a bar fight were just a few things that crossed your mind. But walking down the hallway you realised how hot it was in this bar, it must be from the amount of people packed inside. Your shirt started to cling to you...surely no one would miss it if you looked this good...and do you need to find body spray?, Nah, no one will notice in the crowd and who would care with you looking like this. You watched maybe the first 2 line ups on stage before you blacked out.

-------

You woke up the morning after in your bed. You felt groggy and hungover. Rubbing your head against your pillow your nose happened to drift past you pits and the stink of stale sweat and weed was so strong it made you screw up your face. You laughed realising you were still wearing the pants. As you took them off you expected your body to revert back instantly but it stayed the same, maybe the longer you wear em the longer you stay like this you thought. How long had you worn them for anyway? you picked up your phone to see it was 3pm.

“ha ha, fuuuuuck, what a night” you slurred out in a ratchet sentence

Your voice was grating, liked youd spent the past 12 hours you’d been blacked out for screaming. Maybe you did? as you tried to remember the past night you think at some point you found your way on stage screaming into a mic but you couldn’t be sure, but what you were sure of is after all that partying and sweating those pants must need a wash. You picked them up and took a sniff but to your surprise they smelt perfectly clean, in fact they smelt brand ned. The oily feeling of sweat in the fabric had gone and the smell of sweat and weed had been exchanged for the smell of fresh detergent....which is more than what can be said about you. Your skin felt oily from sweat being reabsorbed and your hair and pits smelt like you'd been smoking weed for a week.

You phone suddenly vibrated in your hand as you got a text. Boss: 3 people have gone home with food poisoning, I need you here in 20 minutes to cover the after work rush.

An unknown anger built up inside of you, you gritted your teeth and started muttering to yourself about corporate greed and cogs in a machine. Then you remembered, this body meant no real consequences right?

You snapped a pic of yourself and sent a reply.

“fuck you bossman, I ain’t doing shit for you, pay me my fuckin over time or I’m gonna smash your car windows in you fucking cunt”

You threw your phone on your bed and lit a joint left on your bedside table. With it gritted between your teeth you started pacing back and forth in your room venting out what felt like amazing lyrics that came to your head. “aaaaWWW FUCK MAN THIS SHIT WOULD SOUND SO GOOD”

You through on an old pair of jeans and dirty tee shirt and left the house knowing exactly where you had to go to vent this rage.

--------

It had been about 2 months since you quit your job and every day since then had been the same, wake up about 3-4pm have a lazy breakfast and then head to your bar to hang with a couple guys in the green room writing music. It felt like you’d know those guys for years. You’d perform every night for peanuts. The band was...okay-ish but in your eyes you were the best fucking singer and guitar player in the world, people just didn’t get your group’s sound or message you told yourself. Anyone that did say you sounded shit to your face ended up with a ring punch in the jaw. It was the same, wake up, rehearse, perform, drink enough vodka and smoke enough weed to kill an elephant then black out and wake up in bed.

You stopped expecting to change back, hell you couldn’t even remember what you used to look like merely 2 months ago, but with all the ass that was sitting on your dick from groupie guys obsessed with your cocky douchebag personality you didn’t care anymore, you wouldn’t want to go back even if you could.

#transformation #muscle #male transformation #reality change #jock transformation

[jaemmphilia]

Here’s a shorter smut shot then

Still top xiumin x bottom m reader

Xiumin proposes to reader after years of being together in the most romantic way possible and they celebrate with his band mates and after the celebration, reader and xiumin celebrate on their own privately ;3

Im thinking something sweet and romantic with some good smutssss

Also happy anniversary. Kinda funny how it’s 3 years and you also just got 300 followers as well. That be awesome congrats bestie 🖤❤️🖤

★ 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚡𝚒𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝚡 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

★ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟾𝟻𝟹

xiumin is nervous. he's never been more nervous about anything in his entire 30-something years of living.

his clammy hands grip the soft velvet box in the pocket of his jeans. he watches [name] in front of him on the bridge, the male looking down into the murky water infested with fish and frogs.

this bridge is special to xiumin and [name]. the two had met here 15 years ago, when xiumin watched a group of boys push poor [name] into the muddy water, getting the male's white shirt all dirty.

xiumin wasted no time in rushing over to help the boy out of the gross water. he didn't care if his shoes and the bottoms of his pants were wet, he was more worried about the boy with tears in his eyes.

xiumin never wanted to see the boy cry ever again.

from that day forward, xiumin and [name] grew close. they became friends quickly, and throughout the remainder of their teenage years, they harbored feelings for each other but didn't act on them until their early 20s.

now the two of them are in their mid-thirties and more in love as the days go by. so in love that xiumin can't believe he hasn't done this sooner.

"xiumin, come look at the turtles!"

[name]'s voice shakes xiumin out of his trance of reminiscing. he takes a deep breath and walks toward [name], who still isn't looking in xiumin's direction. xiumin decides to bite the bullet and get over his nerves. he kneels down on one knee and clears his throat.

"i've always wanted a turtle, but my mom always said it was too big of a hassle. it's not too late to-" [name] stops talking as he turns to his left, seeing xiumin down on one knee. the male's breath hitches as his hand comes up to cover his mouth. [name] can feel the tears welling up in his eyes.

"[name], i brought you to this bridge because it means a lot to me. it's the first place we met, the place we shared our first kiss, and now it's the place where i am proposing to you." xiumin says, a few tears falling down his cheeks, "you mean the entire world to me and i want to make it last for as long as we both are breathing. so will you marry me?" xiumin says, looking up at [name] with the dopiest smile on his handsome face.

"oh, xiumin, what kind of idiot would i be if i said no?" [name] cries out as he pulls xiumin to his feet and wraps his arms around the male. after they hug, they share a kiss and xiumin slips the ring on [name]'s finger.

"we have to call the others, they're all waiting for me to call them and tell them how it went." xiumin says and he pulls out his phone, video chatting with baekhyun, who picks up immediately.

"well? did you do it? did [name] say yes?" baekhyun asks, speaking fast, and xiumin can see the others fighting to get in the frame.

xiumin laughs as [name] shows the other seven males the ring on his finger the males erupt in cheers of all kinds. "we're coming over right now to celebrate with you guys."

"well hurry your asses up! sehun is about to pop the champagne!" he hears chen cry out, his head popping out of the frame to stop sehun from opening the champagne prematurely.

after the video call ends, xiumin and [name] make their way to baekhyun and chanyeol's shared house.

xiumin and [name] get back to their own shared house and the two are already stripping their clothes off their backs. the two males share a deep kiss, their tongues rubbing against one another as they stumble to their room

xiumin pushes [name] onto the bed and hovers over the male. he kisses and bites [name]'s neck, making sure to leave a nice, red mark on his skin. xiumin drinks in the noises [name] makes and it fuels him with confidence.

"gonna fuck you so good, baby," xiumin says, growling into [name]'s ear, his hand stroking the male's half-hard cock, "gonna make you feel really good."

"hurry, xiu, feel like i'm gonna explode." [name] whines, his hips bucking upas his chest turns red.

"alright, baby. i'll be nice and give you what you want this time. but don't expect me to be this nice for round 2."

xiumin makes sure [name] is prepped enough to take his fat dick. he splits [name] open on his slender fingers for a bit before he impales [name] with his cock. he slams in and out of [name]'s tight heat, his arms planted on either side of [name].

xiumin and [name] keep each other close; kissing, touching, and moaning. they let out noises only meant for the other to hear the two of them becoming one as they share this intimate moment.

it doesn't end at sexual intimacy, though. now they have something bigger to look forward to:

the rest of their lives as one.

#kpop x male reader #male reader #kpop x reader #exo x male reader #exo x reader #exo smut #xiumin

[moonshynecybin]

i don’t have a fic summary but ! lotr au in some way shape or form….. i need to know what our little guys would be doing in middle-earth (except for bezz and cele - i already know in my heart that they’re hobbits frolicking around, causing all sorts of mischief together)

this is my FAVORITE MOVIE. my little hobbit boys.... okay so like literally we MUST. make vale an elf king here right. like he HAS to be. maybe galadrielesque in the sense that he absolutely must play the gandalf role here as well as plot impetus and magical de facto sage of the party that occasionally fucks off to do wizard shit but still really cares about his hobbits (hobbits are all the academy boys sans luca who is also an elf and looks good doing it !). maybe pedrenzo also there to round out the gay ass gimli/legolas dynamic. marc is SO obviously the displaced boy prince of gondor to me... hes human. good with a blade and better with a horse. literally refuses to leave his brother's side...

so in this cele (WHO ELSE) gets left with the one ring and the academy boys plus vale set off on an ADVENTURE to help cast it into the fires of mordor... (bezz would make such a good samwise he loves his friends SOOOOO bad. literally cele voice bez im going alone. bez: of course you are but im coming with you !!!!) along the way they pick up marc, alex, and pedrenzo in rivendell but uh. uh-oh. it looks like im assigning vale a THIRD narrative role here as ARWEN bc him and marc are EX LOVERS who BROKE UP some indiscriminate amount of time ago due to vale attempting to give up his IMMORTALITY. and marc couldnt stomach that but vale couldnt stomach watching him DIE. so the vibes are truly wild the entire trip. especially with pedrenzo there lmao. like literally vale and marc looking at each other across a battlefield marc in polished armor glinting red with blood in the sunshine and vale in fine elf wear not a spot of grime anywhere near him. but still with those fucking sideburns. marc has NEVER!!! taken off the necklace vale gave him and its the brightest thing on the battelfield... the only way vale can make sure he's safe

meanwhile pan to bez carrying cele up a mountain in the most homoerotic way possible... talking about the flowers in the shire and the parties they had as boys... the ale they shared with pecco and mig and luca... wishing they had gotten up the courage to talk about their feelings before this whole mess started...

#vale is working. he is employed in this story. he is gandalf he is galadriel he is arwen. he is booked he is busy... #pedrenzo as gimli and legolas DOES make me laugh. gay ass orc killing competition. pan to marc tortured by responsibility and elf pussy #motogp #callie speaks #asks #rosquez #THANK YOU ELLE !!!!