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#horned rim glasses
loveshetlands · 1 year
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mlarayoukai · 8 months
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Be the change u wanna see in the world!
I tried but my lenses are so thick because I'm legally blind so I can't :( besides I can't see myself without a mirror so it doesn't matter. I want to see other people in them! Preferably men ages 20-29!
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anintelligentoctopus · 9 months
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Come to think of it I think Don in glasses in Call Me Madam is one of the reasons I picked out hornrims for my latest pair of glasses
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thewhoodiemonarch · 1 year
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it is endlessly funny to me that in "The Once and Future King" by T.H. White, Merlyn cannonically wears these
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like Merlyn's a stylish old man, truly ahead of his time
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smashboy · 1 year
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Noah Stilinski and Noah Bennet are both in the `Noah who had a previously unrevealed first name` club.
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thekielbasanova · 1 year
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This is another one of the 54 pages in the Cats in Hats coloring book.
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dollyhao · 3 months
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succubus!reader x nerdy!ellie
summary: ellie is desperate to lose her virginity that has been looming over her her whole college career.
toni’s note: i made it guys! i promised this back in october and it’s the end of january… but it’s here.
cw: this is pure smut, no plot at all lol. 1.8k words
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ellie has not a single regret about what she’s about to do. ellie is in college and is still a virgin, at this point she didn’t think she’d ever lose her virginity. until one of her friends joked that she should summon a sex demon, that it was ‘the only way she’d get laid’. it wasn’t meant to be taken seriously, but desperation makes people do crazy things.
she read in an old book she found in the library about one in particular, the book had a picture of you drawn in and ellie thought you were absolutely gorgeous and perfect for her. what was the worst that could happen?
ellie lights the candles around the circle she made on her bedroom floor. she chanted your name 5 times like the book told her, then after 20 seconds the candles all blew out and a gust of purple smoke floats in the air. you pop out the smoke looking even more perfect than the book describes.
“who dares summons me?” you say in this slow sensual voice that ellie feels course through her body. you look around the room you were summoned in before your eyes rest on a short girl with black rimmed glasses on her face. ellie is looking at you with those pretty green puppy eyes, mouthed formed into an o shape.
“a girl? well thats new,” you walk closer to ellie sizing her up. “your cute… tell me what you want from me.” “i-i,” ellie is literally speechless. shes staring up at you, the lady demon whos probably gonna take her virginity. you have long horns on your head and a cute skinny tail, but the best part is that your completely naked. breast out in the open, nipples standing at attention, nothing covering your cunt and it’s just begging for ellie to drop to her knees to taste you.
“did you call me here to waste my time?” you ask her putting your hands on your hips with a quirked brow. “no no! i-i want you to take my virginity.” ellie says playing with her fingers. you hum, “ok ill do it. but you have to sign a contract-” “yes yes! anything!” you spawn a paper out of thin air, “dont you wanna know what your agreeing to?” but by the time you finish your sentence ellie has already signed the paper.
after she is done signing, the paper disappears. “i wanna let you know i-i’ve never done this before. well i almost did in my fourth year of highschool but that was a missed opportunity-“ ellie’s nervous rambling was cut off by you running your hands over her shoulders and ripping her shirt open exposing a blue sports bra underneath. ellie gapes at you, suprised at the sudden intrusion. you push the ripped shirt off her shoulders. “do you wanna touch me?” you say voice softening seeing how nervous the poor girl is.
she nods vigorously trailing her hands up your tummy to your breast. “you can touch me however you want.” you say smirking at her. ellie feels like she can hear your voice inside her head, a slow sensual voice with a rasp that can only be described as wild and sexy. she feels a rush of arousal pulse through her as she pushes you to lay on her bed. your eyebrows shot up, you feel her start to kiss down your stomach swirling her tongue around your navel before her head dips between your legs.
you buck slightly when you feel her inexperienced tongue flicking all around your cunt. she takes your clit into her mouth rolling and flicking her tongue all around it (like they do in the videos she watched before the summoning). you can feel her breathing heavy against you. she pushes two experimental fingers into you feeling how wet and tight you were. you taste sweet like honey and something else addictive that ellie can’t name, ellie suspects its part of your demon powers.
you grab her hair squeezing your legs around her head trying to contain your moans, no human has ever made you feel so good. you might just… like this girl. she’s cute and gentle. and she looks at you like your aphrodite instead of a sex demon.
you feel yourself about to cum when you push her head from between your thighs. ellie is looking at you, chin covered in your juices looking pussy drunk with her glasses fogged up. “are you ok?” she asked you, looking genuinely concerned. you want to coo at her but instead you flip her over taking place in between her legs this time. you peer up at her with this look that looks like you want to devour her. you pull down her sweat pants and underwear licking your lips at her slick pussy.
you give her clit a sweet kiss before using your thumb to rub circles on it. ellies moans out loud when she feels your abnormally long tongue enter her. your tongue is reaching places her fingers couldnt possibly reach. she chants you name which only encourages you to move your thumb faster on her clit. ellie grabs your horns and pull before locking her ankles together keeping you still as she grinded on your tongue feeling the knot in her stomach ready to explode. you let out a groan as ellie tugs on your horns. “im so close.” she says before her body goes rigid.
you pull away from ellie, swallowing her essence, seeming to have had an energy boost. “is there anything else you wanna try?” you say rubbing up and down her legs. she nods getting off the bed grabbing a box from under it. in the box are sex toys but ellie pulls out a girthy purple strap. “oh,” you say eyes widening, “you wanna use that on me?” you ask with that same sensual tone from the beginning. “yes.. please”
she puts the strap on before she feels you push her down on the bed straddling her. you hover over her dick grabbing it and running it up and down your slick cunt. “you want me to fuck you?” you say placing a hand on her chest still hovering over her. ellie nods her head grabbing your hips panting in anticipation, “yes please…” “ask nicely,” you say leaning down licking and biting her ear. “please fuck me. please.” ellie says bucking her hips. the tip of her dick pushes into you, you moan sitting completely on ellie’s cock.
you are bouncing and riding with no sign of slowing down. ellie is running her hands over your body, transfixed at the way your breast bounce as you ride her. when she sits up, she wraps her arms around your waist, holding you close to her as she kisses your neck and chest leaving marks.
you grab ellie’s face, tilting her head to the side so you can have access to her neck. you use your tongue to lick and suck marks into her neck until you get a little too excited and nick her neck drawing blood. ellie let’s out a groan followed by a guttural moan, completely dazed. you lick at her neck getting all the blood up before humming and planting a kiss on the mark.
ellie is gripping your ass meeting your thrust with her own desperate ones. “are you close?” ellie asked desperately, leaning to kiss you again. “very.” you coo out, kissing her using that long muscle of yours, twirling your tongue around hers.
you let go and ellie is staring in awe at the beautiful look you made while cumming. she lays back on the bed, exhausted and satisfied. when she feels your very sharp nails trail up her stomach and latch at her sports bra causing it to rip as if it was being cut by scissors. “more.” you whisper with a wide grin.
“what?” ellie asked wide eyed. “i want more. i think im going to keep you.” you whisper in her ear.
༊*·˚
I, Ellie Williams, am allowing succubus y/n to take on a human form and co habitat with me. I will fulfill her needs of sex so that she may stay by my side and use me for a long as she wills.
signed: ellie williams
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icyminghao · 7 months
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workplace crush
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pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader genre: fluff, workplace!au warning(s): brief mentions of food word count: 1k
summary: jeon wonwoo, also known as the company’s “IT Department Crush”, doesn’t seem to faze you in the slightest, much to your best friend’s dismay.
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“Oh my god! There he is again, look!” Sooyoung, your childhood best friend and current colleague at work, exclaims suddenly, tapping your arm with a newfound fervor.
“Who?” you deadpan, poking at your lunch with your fork.
“It’s Jeon Wonwoo! Sejeong really wasn’t kidding when she said he was the IT Department’s eye-candy,”
The name raises an eyebrow, but you’re quick to shake it off and regain control of your poker face.
“Jeon Wonwoo, huh? He looks okay,” you reply without turning to look at the subject of the conversation.
“Just okay? Come on, y/n! Just because you have a boyfriend doesn’t mean you can’t admit that Mr. White Button-down over there is hot as shit,” Sooyoung scoffs in amusement as she urges you to sneak a glance at the man of the hour. Deciding to appease your friend, you turn around to do just that and find the acclaimed Jeon Wonwoo sitting at a nearby table with a few other people, presumably his colleagues. He’s dressed in a white button-down with rolled up sleeves and a pair of navy-blue jeans, and to top it all off, he’s sporting a pair of horn-rimmed glasses you’ve never seen anyone pull off better than him.
“My boyfriend’s hotter,” you shrug, going back to eating your food. Sooyoung purses her lips in thought at the response.
“Is he? Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him,” she muses.
“You haven’t? No way,” you respond immediately, quick to wave off Sooyoung’s observation.
“What do you mean, ‘no way’? You haven’t introduced your boyfriend to any of us! I’ve been dying to see who exactly met your sky-high standards,” Sooyoung whines, much to your amusement.
“You’d be surprised,” you chuckle and look up to see that Sooyoung’s attention has been diverted to something (or someone) behind you.
“Pause. Don’t look, but Mr. IT Department Crush is coming our way right now,” Sooyoung’s voice drops an octave as she whispers through gritted teeth, eyes widened in warning. You suppress an amused smile at her behaviour and watch as a certain Jeon Wonwoo takes a seat beside you. All the while, Sooyoung looks on the situation with a wide-open mouth as you try your hardest to hold in your laughter.
“Hey, y/n,” Wonwoo greets you as he settles down, then turns to nod at Sooyoung, who nods back in equal parts confusion and awe, “Jeonghan was wondering whether you wanted to join us for karaoke night later?”
“Sorry, Wonwoo, but I have plans with Sooyoung tonight. Maybe next time?” you frown apologetically at having to reject Wonwoo’s proposal, but he simply nods in response, flashing you the smallest of smiles in return.
“It’s okay. I’ll see you later?” he hums in response before nodding once again at Sooyoung in greeting and leaving, presumably to return to his colleagues at the IT Department.
Silence ensues as you and Sooyoung blink at each other for a solid minute or so, before Sooyoung lets out a huge breath and breaks the silence.
“Did you just… have a whole conversation with the IT Department Crush? You never told me you knew him!” Sooyoung whisper-shouts, slapping your arm lightly for dramatic effect. You rub your arm and feign an injury, to which Sooyoung simply pouts at you in response.
“You never asked!” you reason.
“No wonder you didn’t bat an eye when I talked about him!” Sooyoung huffs, crossing her arms as she squints at you. You shrug, bursting into laughter at Sooyoung’s behaviour.
“Whatever. My girlfriend’s hotter, anyway.”
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“y/n…” Sooyoung suddenly drawls halfway through your meal with her, and you hum in amusement.
“Earlier, what did IT Department Crush mean by ‘see you later’? You’ve been with me the whole time since lunch break and we’re off work now,” Sooyoung furrows her eyebrows in thought, and you tilt your head in confusion, trying to recall the interaction.
“He did? Must have been a slip of the tongue,” you shrug nonchalantly, and Sooyoung leans forward, putting on a look that you know she always puts on whenever she’s about to analyse something (or someone).
“The two of you seem close,” she muses, clearly suspicious, much to your amusement.
“You could say that,” you hum, pursing your lips together. Sooyoung purses her lips together in thought before shrugging in response.
“Eh. Anyway, did you see the boss’s new outfit today? I’m dying to know where she got it from,” your best friend is quick to change the topic, and the subject of a certain eye-candy of the IT Department is quickly forgotten for the rest of the dinner with Sooyoung.
“How are you going home tonight? We could give you a ride, my girlfriend’s coming soon.” Sooyoung asks after the both of you had stepped out of the restaurant, greeted by the glittering moonlight shining down on the streets bustling with nightlife.
“Oh, it’s okay, my boyfriend’s coming over,” you politely reject Sooyoung’s offer just as a white sedan pulls up in front of you. Sooyoung sighs.
“There goes my chance of meeting your mystery of a boyfriend,” Sooyoung fake-whines, “I’ll see you next week, okay? Let us see him soon!”
“Yeah, yeah, I will!” you chuckle, waving Sooyoung and her girlfriend goodbye as they drive off, leaving you alone on the street.
Shortly after, you hear the familiar roar of an engine, and your boyfriend pulls up in his navy blue coupe, rolling down the passenger window to send you a greeting smile.
“Hey, darling,” you greet as you enter his car, settling down before looking at him in entirety. He’s still wearing the same white button-down from earlier, but his hair looks a bit tousled as compared to how neat it was just this morning. You reach forward and ruffle his locks just because.
“How was today?” Wonwoo grins at the touch, giving you a small peck on the cheek before driving again.
“Well, I heard from Sooyoung that you’ve garnered quite the reputation in the company,” you decide to tease him.
“I have?” Wonwoo replies, confused.
“They call you the IT Department Crush,” you explain, watching him closely for a reaction.
“I guess that’s pretty accurate, considering you had a crush on me,” Wonwoo chuckles, reaching a hand out to rest on your thigh affectionately.
“You had a crush on me first! Must I remind you how Soony-”
“Okay, baby, you win,” Wonwoo concedes, “I had a crush on you first.”
“It’s okay, darling,” you giggle, “We had a crush on each other.”
Wonwoo groans. “You’re lame.”
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an: 230926 jeon wonwoo you will be the death of me (also this was pretty bad i’m sorry lol)
taglist: @slytherinshua @xomingyu @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @dahliatopia @kwantaro @chanceonceli
masterlist
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multi-kpop-fanfics · 4 months
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Old Money, Bratty Honey
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pairing: bodyguard!Wonwoo x heiress!reader x bodyguard!Vernon
genre: smut - minors dni.
warnings: car sex (a limo specifically), public sex (the windows are tinted but still), mean dom!wonwoo, switch!vernon, brat!reader, sir kink, edging, hair pulling, blowjobs, facefucking, degradation, masturbation, voyeurism, cum swallowing, reader is rich and spoiled (yk how the rest goes)
requested by @onlymingyus
word count: 1.7k
summary: being born in money gives you the chance to try pretty much everything in the world - that includes fucking your two hot bodyguards in your dad's limousine.
Author's note: hello <3 this fic was requested by beloved mars - the unesco forum pics did a LOT of damage
tagging: @gyuwoncheol @wonwussy bcs they asked to suffer so here we are
©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.
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“Do you remember your speech?”
“Tch, of course I do.” You roll your eyes. “I wrote it myself, remember?”
“I know you did. Just wanted to check whether your brain cells are still active.” Wonwoo smirks.
“Unlucky for you, they are very much intact and in better shape than yours.” You bite back.
“Is there any time of any day where the two of you don’t argue?” Vernon groans from behind you. “Can we just…enjoy the little time we have left until we arrive at the venue?”
“Mmm, of course we can, Nonie.” You turn your attention to your other bodyguard. “He’s never fun, either way. But you are way more fun, right?” You make yourself comfortable in his lap, your manicured hands smoothing over his chest.
“Anything for you, honey. You know me.” Vernon smirks and leans in the crevice of your neck, lips and tongue gliding over your skin.
Wonwoo sighs in defeat and averts his eyes from the unfolding scene, trying to ignore it. 
If it wasn’t for the hefty salary that gets deposited every month in his bank account, he wouldn’t even be here. He would rather be walking at a dingy bar, rather than have to babysit a rich brat like you. 
And the worst thing of all? You’re smart and hot as fuck - to the point where he wants to stuff your mouth full of his dick and make you cry.
You’re aware of how uptight and cold Wonwoo is towards you and you can’t really blame him for his attitude - being head of security under your dad basically requires that attitude. Which makes messing around with him even more fun for you.
Vernon, on the other hand, is your assigned personal bodyguard and would fold in half for you, if you asked him to. One bat of your eyelashes is enough to make him cave to any request of yours, thus giving you the perfect cover for your night escapades.
But of course, he always gets rewarded for his secrecy and faith to you - in the form of letting him fuck you dumb more than often.
This is one of the occasions where you want to mess around with both of them at the same time.
You throw the fabric of your gown backwards to uncover your legs and give yourself enough space to grind your clothed pussy over Vernon’s slacks. 
“Careful with your gown, honey.” He reminds you.
“It’s just fabric, I could have tens of that.” You grin towards him.
“How rich and bratty, coming from you.” Wonwoo comments with a venomous tone.
“Yeah, that’s because I am rich, bratty, pretty and smart and you want to fuck me so bad.” You reply boldly.
He slides next to Vernon and grips your jaw with his right hand, keeping it steady directly in front of his face.
“You’re right, little bitch. I want to fuck the brat out of you, to the point you’re crying and begging me to stop.” His voice feels deeper and colder than the ocean, his eyes burning holes in your skull through his horn-rimmed glasses.
You almost hate how hot and fuckable Wonwoo looks today - but you’ve always wanted to know what’s hidden under his professional attire.
“I would like to see you try, you fucking nerd. I bet you’re still a virgin-”
He cuts you off by dragging you off Vernon’s lap and pushes you down on your knees, between his thighs.
“Dude, what the hell!” Vernon glares at the older man.
“Shut the fuck up, Vernon. You have gotten plenty of time with her since you got your job. Now sit back and watch.” Wonwoo orders him as he unbuttons his pants and lets his cock spring free.
Your eyes widen at the size and it makes your mouth fill with saliva and your pussy dampens your Victoria’s Secret panties.
“Tell me, Vernon - Does the pretty brat over here like to suck dick?” Wonwoo asks with a dangerous glint in his eyes as he runs his fist over his shaft.
“Y-Yeah, she does.” The younger man stutters.
“Does she swallow?”
“Yes, she does.”
“Yes what, Vernon?”
“Yes s-sir.”
“Hm, at least one of you can behave.” Wonwoo turns his attention to you again.
“Enjoying the power trip, Wonwoo?” You place your hands over his thighs, rubbing them up and down.
“It’s Sir for you, little brat.” He puts his hand behind your neck and brings your face close enough to let his cock slap against your cheek. “Now put your smartass mouth to good use, will you?”
“And what if I don’t want to?” You rile him up even more.
Wonwoo threads his hands in the back of your hair and forcefully slides his cock in your mouth. You gag when the tip hits your throat, but you manage to suppress your reflex with ease.
“Fuck, honey…” Vernon curses under his breath and starts palming himself over his pants.
“No need to be jealous, Vernon - I’m sure you have experienced this already, right?” Wonwoo chuckles as he uses your hair as leverage to fuck your face.
“I could get used to this, Y/N - this cock-stuffed version of yours is quite likable.”
You grunt in response and purposefully drag your teeth over his cock, eliciting a hiss from him. He drags you off his cock and pulls you upwards, forcing your back to arch.
“Do that one more time and your daddy will find out his precious daughter is a fucking slut.” He threatens you.
“You don’t want to do this, Sir.” You slur the title on purpose. “You’ll be at loss in the end, especially after fucking me like you wanted to,” you grip his wrist, “So, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and I’ll let you fuck me stupid. How does that sound?” You grin.
“Little bitch.” Wonwoo scoffs and puts your mouth back on his cock.
“Fuck, Y/N, you look so damn pretty.” Vernon moans on the side, his own pants long unbuttoned, hand stroking his pre-cum coated dick. 
Your eyes flit to the younger man and you send him a wink, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo.
“Eyes on me, brat. And you,” he snaps his head towards Vernon, “You better not fucking cum until I say so.”
“S-Sir, I won’t-”
“Don’t. Fucking. Cum.” He repeats with something akin to a growl.
“Fuck, I won’t!” Vernon whines in defeat, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck, his hand slowing down to keep himself on edge.
You moan around Wonwoo’s cock, nails digging in the fabric of his pants as you hollow your cheeks and do your best to bring him closer to his orgasm.
“Shit, I’m gonna cum- You better swallow every last drop like you do with him, princess.” 
You bat your eyelashes to let him know you’re ready and he presses your head until you’ve taken him till the base. You can feel the saltiness of his cum coursing down your throat. You pin your eyes on Wonwoo and stare at him until you’ve sucked his cock clean, swallowing till the last drop.
He retracts his hand and lets you get off his lap, whispering a few words in your ear, low enough to not be heard by anyone else.
“I don’t mean to interrupt but I really need to fucking cum and I don’t want to bust my nut all over the suit.” Vernon half moans, hand gripping his cock tight.
You move between his legs with a sultry smile and engulf his cock with your mouth. It only takes him a few harsh sucking motions of your lips to make him cum, a string of heavy breaths and moans coming out of his mouth.
You release his shaft with an obscene popping sound, opening your mouth to show him the amount of cum in it. You swallow it in one gulp, licking your lips clean.
“Filthy little slut.” Wonwoo clicks his tongue as he tucks himself back in.
“Couldn’t agree more.” Vernon clears his throat and tidies himself as well.
“That was definitely fun,” you sit back on the leather seats and open your purse to take out a pack of wet wipes and clean your hands. A small hair brush follows right after and you fix your hair, as if they were never touched in the first place.
“How is your makeup still intact?” Vernon asks you with narrowed eyes.
“Ever heard of waterproof makeup?” You side eye him.
“As long as Daddy is paying, everything must be on point for his pretty little heiress.” Wonwoo comments. “We’re here, be ready.”
“No need to remind me of my job, Wonwoo.”
As soon as he opens the door of the limousine to help you out, you’re welcomed with countless flashing cameras and microphones shoved in your way, but Vernon rushes next to your side to keep them at a safe distance. 
You put on your finest smile for the cameras, knowing which way to turn your head so the gossip magazines will have only your best shots. 
The noises of the crowd are drowned out once the three of you enter the venue of the gala and your bodyguards double check that everything is okay and you can proceed.
“How ironic to see the two of you being so professional while you were cumming like highschool boys just a few minutes ago.” You giggle.
“How ironic to see you acting like a proper lady after sucking off your security entourage in your daddy’s limousine like a cheap whore.” Wonwoo smirks and you fight back the urge to hit his head with your purse, as you walk over to the table with your assigned seat.
“You didn’t have to be so sassy about it.” Vernon covers his mouth to hide his grin.
“And you should have been more discreet with your visits in her room.” Wonwoo almost snaps at him with a stern look on his face.
“You’re not actually gonna snitch, are you?” The younger man looks at him partially horrified.
Wonwoo’s lips curl in a dirty smirk and he leans into Vernon’s ear.
“As long as you’re willing to stand guard in front of her door all night long while I’m teaching the little brat some manners, then your dirty secret is safe with me.”
Vernon pokes his cheek with his tongue, wishing he was able to shove his fist in Wonwoo’s face.
“So? Are you willing to do that, Chwe?”
“.....Yes sir.”
“That’s what I thought.”
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gorillax3-cc · 4 months
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Polo Sweater · Hanging Horn-Rimmed Glasses
Top/Glasses
New Mesh
All LOD’s
Shadow Map
Normal Map
Specular Map
20/13 Swatches
HQ Compatible
Don’t Re-upload
[Download] - Patreon Public Access
Patreon Early Access, Public Release on January 17, 2024.
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[Patreon]
Terms Of Use
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hairmetal666 · 8 months
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Read Part One here
cw: implied child abuse
Eddie's coming over for coffee. Not Eddie with Nancy and Robin or Eddie with the kids. Just Eddie.
They haven't been alone in 9 years and now Eddie is coming over for coffee.
They're friends, of course. After Vecna they didn't have much of a choice, but they've never talked about it--that they used to be something.
After Steve kissed Eddie goodbye for what turned out to be the last time, they didn't see each other again for months and months, except for a devastatingly fleeting moment in the Family Video parking lot. And the next time after that, Eddie's pinning him to the wall of a rickety boathouse, a broken bottle to his throat.
What's going through his mind, his body, at that moment is relief. For days, weeks, months, he ached for Eddie's touch again, and even though he was in danger, he relished in the push of their bodies together. Thought, if this is how he dies, he won't mind going.
But they don't talk about it, about them, because Eddie is on the run and Max is going to die, and they have to save the world, so there's no time. In the aftermath, it's the least of their worries, and now it's been almost a decade and Eddie is coming over for coffee.
The thing is, it's not like Steve has been pining away for a love long lost in the intervening years, and neither has Eddie. They've both had longterm, serious relationships; Steve almost got married. But for Steve...Eddie is the one that's lingered, the one that knocks around his ribcage on late sleepless nights, the one that makes him dream of what might have been. Because Steve truly loved his other partners, but Eddie--nobody will ever compare.
Someone is knocking a rhythm at his front door, and he can't stifle his smile even as his heart runs riot in his chest.
"Hey, man," he says, remarkably nonchalant as he takes Eddie in. Still beautiful, still brimming with energy; his smile wide and dimpled, bouncing on his toes.
"Harrington!" Eddie grabs him into a quick side hug, slapping his back. "Since when do you wear glasses?"
Steve chuckles, touching the horn-rimmed frames. "Oh, god, Robin forced me to get them back in '87? Too many concussions." He touches his forehead. "I usually just wear contacts."
"It's a good look," Eddie says. He's very much not looking at Steve, eyes roaming around the Chicago apartment he's been to many times before.
He watches as Eddie spots the display of his own books, index finger slowly slipping across the spines in a way that makes Steve remember when those same fingers would slide down his spine. He stifles a shiver, turns towards the kitchen.
"So, how's New York? How's the book coming?"
"Livin' the dream." It's not flippant, not like how most people mean it. Eddie leaks genuineness, always has. "The book though...it's a little rough."
Steve sets the coffee maker going, brings fresh pastries and a couple plates over to the table. "I can imagine. It doesn't--it doesn't have to be the same, you know?"
"Yeah, if only I hadn't written three other books leading up to the evil mind wizard," Eddie chuckles. He grabs a croissant and tears it in half. "It'll be alright, Harrington. I'll figure it out. I lived through it the first time, after all."
Steve doesn't remind him that he almost didn't, that they almost didn't. Instead, he pours coffee, listens as Eddie talks about how to fictionalize the worst month of their collective lives.
He splashes milk into Eddie's coffee, taps in three scoops of sugar. He carries it to where Eddie waits, still talking about the logistics of Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One in his novel, but his words abruptly stop as his hands wrap around the porcelain.
"Steve?"
It's only then that Steve realizes what he's done--made Eddie's coffee like he took it back then, made it without thinking, totally on muscle memory, when the best of his mornings were spent in Eddie's arms.
His cheeks glow crimson and he grips at the back of his neck. "S-sorry." He says. "It--is this still how you take it?"
"Yeah." Eddie's eyes fall from Steve's face, his own cheeks pink. "It's--yeah. Still the same."
"I'm sorry--"
"--Steve, I--"
They don't laugh. They both stop speaking and look at each other, faces still red. Steve thinks there's nothing for it but to get it all out now.
"I'm sorry, Eddie." He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I never came back. I'm sorry I didn't explain why. I'm just--really, really sorry."
Eddie's eyes are hooked on the table top, fingers twisting and twisting his coffee mug. "Can I--why? I waited and you--why?"
Steve swallows, but it gets stuck in his throat, and now he's the one who can't look up from his hands.
"My parents got home early," he manages. "My dad, he was waiting for me. I guess one of the neighbors thought it best to tell them who I'd been spending my time with."
Silence falls over the table, and he chances a look up at the man across from him, the one whose knuckles bite into his lips, whose eyes shine with unshed tears.
"You should've called me. You should've--you could've stayed with us. We would've kept you safe."
"Eddie, I couldn't. I physically couldn't," the admission costs him so much.
"Steve," Eddie chokes on his name, voice nothing but anguish. "Did anyone--You could've--you were all alone."
He shakes his head. "Robin knew. She snuck through my window to take care of me, but my parents--I couldn't--" This time the words really won't come. "We made a plan. We started that job at Family Video, and we saved up our money."
Now, Eddie's face is creased with grief. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."
Steve shakes his head, smiles despite the wreckage around his heart. "You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. I left you with no explanation. I broke your heart. And--and--" He thinks, what does it hurt to say it at this point. "I love you. I love you so much. I convinced myself you were better off without me, that we could have a clean break and you could get over me."
Eddie's hands cover his face, muffle the sob that slips out. "Get over you?" He whispers. "There's never been one like you, sweetheart."
He slides around the table to kneel at Eddie's side. "Hey." Deep brown eyes stare back at him, Eddie's face wet with tears. "It's always you, Ed. Always. I didn't want to say anything, if you had moved on, but--"
There's not really any transition from them talking to them kissing; Steve slips into it like he did all those years ago, when he first asked for Eddie's kiss. Their mouths slot together, their bodies fit like they always used to, perfect puzzle pieces. Steve's knees give out at the first brush of Eddie's tongue, and they collapse into a heap on the kitchen floor. Even then, they don't part.
Eventually, Steve does break the embrace, face flushed and hair a disaster, glasses hanging off one ear. "Okay, trying to be responsible here. Should we take a pause, go on a date first? Slow down?"
"Nine years isn't slow enough?" Eddie's pupils are blown, hair frizzed around his head.
"When you put it that way," Steve can't help but laugh. "I just want to do right by you, Eddie. Make up for--everything."
Eddie grins down at him, that sunshine beam smile where his dimples pop. "Tell you what, how bout you take me to bed now, and I'll let you take me on a date tomorrow?"
"Oh, you'll let me?" Steve rakes a hand through Eddie's mane of hair. "I don't think you'll have any choice."
"You sure about that, Stevie?" Their lips are so close, the brush with every word.
"Uh-huh," Steve's having trouble keeping his eyes focused, overwhelmed by the sheer force of Eddie Munson. "Never letting you go again, Ed."
Surprise! Part 2! I genuinely had no intention on doing a follow-up, but so many of you asked so nicely that it gave me this idea. Sorry if I miss anyone in the tag list and thank you for reading! @everywherenothere @tiny-enthusiast @emma-elsa-0000 @fuzzyduxk @moonythepluviophile @anaibis @rhapsodyinalto @bunk12bear @tillystealeaves @velocitytimes2 @s-trawberryv-eins @marklee-blackmore @ignoremyworld @its-a-me-a-morgan @goodolefashionedloverboi @starman-jpg @djohawke @adaydreamaway08
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pralinesims · 1 year
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DOMINO Glasses
How many horn-rimmed glasses can I make? The answer is yes. This time, I've recreated the exact same ones that I own IRL (especially often worn during the countless sleepless nights while creating CC on my computer). Features a squareish, light frame. Bold, but not overwhelming.
Things you should know:
Low-poly (only 1K!).
Available in 3 different sizes + 70 color variations.
For fem+masc frames, teen-elder. HQ compatible.
BGC & to be found under glasses category.
Very flattering for various face types.
➔ DOWNLOAD (Patreon FREE)
If you like, please consider to support my work 🖤 ● ALL MY CC DOWNLOADS
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mphountitled · 3 months
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𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬
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Pairings: Fratboy!Sungchan x Shy!reader
Warnings: Language, Enemies to Lovers, Manipulation, Bully!Sungchan, Smut +18 (Minors DNI), Hate sex, Non/Con, Choking, Fingering, Size Kink, Massive Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Breeding, Choking, Spitting, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Coercion
I needed bully smut, so I wrote bully smut. Also I'm ovulating so don't mind me.
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To say you were tense was a grave understatement.
You were forced to sit through your lecture feeling absolutely haunted by the presence beside you. A class you would normally find yourself enjoying is suddenly marred by the stretch of shadow that is Sungchan.
Making comprehensive notes had proven to be difficult when you had to keep a peripheral gaze on the slouching figure seated on the shared desk beside you.
Everything about him vexed you absolutely: The stupid way he wore his snapback (reversed). How he slouched beside you, nearly dozing off on multiple occasions.
Most harrowing was the fact that Sungchan did not make any notes during the entire course of the lesson. In fact, his notebook remained closed. His laptop, untouched.
“Damn,” Sungchan croaks when the professor concludes the end of his incessant rant, “We done?” He asks, “already?”
You only hum in affirmation, keeping your head low as you gather your belongings.
Sungchan watches you scramble to pack up - scramble to get away from him - with unreadable expression.
“Hey, I need to ask you something.”
Your heart plummets when his hand makes contact with the notepad you were shoving into your backpack. You bite the inside of your cheek while your stomach plummets lower and lower.
“Actually, Sungchan… I kinda have somewhere to b-”
“Nah, you're good. It'll only take a few minutes,” he says, lightly tugging on the sleeve of your button-up to lower your butt back down to the chair. You watch with sullen eyes as the rest of your fellow students file out of the classroom.
Two of Sungchan's frat brothers eye you both suspiciously, but Sungchan only gives them a flick of the head in greeting as he leans in to whisper, “You know I don't bite, right?
You didn't care to calculate the validity of that statement because you knew everything this boy had to say was completely and wholeheartedly false. It was almost a marvel, the way he could aimlessly switch from terrorising you one moment to bathing you in unprovoked friendliness the next. It gave you a terrible case of whiplash. Before you're able to respond, however, your professor speaks up from the front of the class. The only other body in the room.
"I hope you plan on actually doing something about those grades this semester, Mr Jung.” Your professor says, eyeing you both through the windows of horn rimmed glasses, “I trust you understand the severity of your current predicament."
Sungchan leans back against his seat, regarding the teacher with a passiveness that made you sweat with nerves.
"Being suspended from basketball definitely sucked," Sungchan's jaw is tight when he speaks, so obviously vexed by the inquiries of your lecturer. "But I've got a secret weapon this semester, Prof," the boy says, slamming his basketball on the conjoined tables, enough to make you jump. "I'll be back on the court in no time."
The sound of your name slipping from your professor's mouth was enough to have you snapping your head up from the weathered pages of the book you had taken out a mere second ago. Sungchan watches, slyly enamoured by the way you sit up when addressing the teacher. The way you correct your spine and elongate your neck. Closing your book with a finger propped in between the pages so as not to lose your space while simultaneously lending the professor your optimal focus.
You were such a fucking prude.
"S-Sorry Sir?" You couldn't have heard him right.
There was absolutely no way.
"I assume you're the student Mr Jung is referring to?" Your professor seems oblivious to the way your face threatens to fall, but Sungchan catches it in the slight twitch of your left brow.
"Oh- I-" everything in you was screaming to send out an SOS signal. Your neck still hurt with the imprint of his palm from when he had terrorized you just a few hours ago... Willingly choosing to be put in a space with Jung Sungchan alone seemed like a viable death wish.
"She already agreed to help tutor me yesterday, actually?" Your heart plummets when the boy turns to face you. "Very admiral."
A wave of nausea washes over you and you try your damndest to just not fucking cry as he places a tentative hand on your thigh underneath the table. Everything in your being responseded negatively to this man. Everything perhaps except your eyes.
While you could not deny that he was the spawn of Satan, you couldn't deny that he had the biggest, most brightest, most kindest eyes you've ever seen.
And that was the fucked up part.
"You said it yourself," Sungchan shoots back at the professor as his nails sink into the sensitive, plush skin of your thighs, "She's the best of the best so I figured, only the best can get me back on that court,"
You wanted to cry. To break out into a blaze of uncontrollable hysteria. Anything at all that might convince your professor to get Jung Sungchan away from you. The tempest of emotions swirling inside, the humiliation, the vile, disgusting feelings that only make themselves known in the vulnerabilities of the AM's...
It all threatens to boil over like an abandoned pot left on an open stove.
Perhaps Sungchan notices the quiver in your lips.
"I trust you'll get started as soon as possible then?"
"We're getting started right now, actually," Sungchan says, peeling his eyes away from your bowed frame, just in time to catch your professor gathering his belongings by the desk, "Basketball season is just around the corner, so you know how it is,"
All his fingers are digging into you thigh now. You have to resort to biting down on the inside of your cheeks to avoid letting that torrid screech rip its way through your vocal cords.
"I'm very impressed by your work ethic, Mr Jung," your professor says, completely oblivious to the way your eyes widen at the sight of him filing his way out the classroom, "And a very special thank you to you, Miss L/N. This is incredibly admirable and something I most definitely will not forget,"
For the briefest moments, the sun peaks through the murky, heavy clouds and you're awash in not only the approval of your professor, but by the possibility that you were perhaps one step closer to making TA. It would undoubtedly look wonderful on your resume, and having a member of staff essentially vouch for you would be... fucking miraculous.
"Wipe the drool off your face, it's not very sexy," Sungchan's grumbles have you hurtling out of your daydreams and straight back down to earth where you're left abandoned in a lecture hall with the only person in the entire world you believed deserved death.
Sungchan's head is leaning back passively against the chair, his legs are spread and his hand has yet to leave your thigh.
You try to keep your voice remaining steady as you ask "How much work do you plan on putting in?" Your voice is dripping monotony and is ice cold, nothing at all like the lazy smile flitting across Sungchan's face as he watches you, still slouching like he couldn't give less of a shit.
"None." His words have you snapping your head towards him, eyes blazing with the signs of your very first tear growing pregnant in your tear ducts.
"Th-Thats impossible- you can't do that!"
"I can't do any of this shit," Sungchan snorts as he motions with his other hand towards the blackboard scribbled with details on Austomarixsm, your most recent study, and most daunting assignment.
"Sungchan I-" You exhale, completely and utterly dumbfounded, "Sungchan, I have my own work to do. I have school, a-and a part time job- I have my own assignments due- just the other day I fucking passed out from a stress migraine-"
The calluses of his palms rubbing against the inside of your thigh, momentarily bring you out of the reverie of your own self pity, “I'm sorry that happened to you, Angel,” he begins, in the most sickeningly sweet voice you've ever heard anyone utter to you, let alone a man you found so incredibly... attractive.
You're not immune to Sungchan's charms and that was perhaps, part of the problem. You feared that if it ever came down to it, you might fall on a fucking sword for him, “Just make sure you get my assignment done on time, yeah?”
Your eyes are focused on his hand. The size of it. The labyrinth of veins running the expanse of it. The way it's rubbing against your inner thigh with a dizzying mysticism.
All it takes is for the first tear to fall directly on his palm before you're lifting your head and murmering, “No.”
Sungchan's hand stops all movement on your thigh and for the first (but certainly not last) part of this evening, you're utterly, and completely filled with fear.
“Sorry?” he shakes his head, displaying that sunshine smile, “What did you say? I don't think I heard you right.”
“You heard me perfectly well,” you tip your head back in defiance, letting your nose raise higher than it's used to being. Finding that glimmer of confidence that lay wasting, like an old relic somehwere inside of you.
“I said n-”
His hand was encircled around your throat before you could even get the final word out and he is pushing your face down on the table with immense force. A dark shadow settles across him, only intensifying his glare.
You writhe underneath him but Sungchan's grip on the side of your face only doubles in force as he slowly rises from his chair, towering over your bent frame as he twitches his head a little to side.
“Come again?”
You're struggling to breath under the pressure of having your cheek pressed so completely against a flat surface and your limbs are shot with panic.
He's far bigger than you though, your movements mean absolutely nothing. “I couldn't hear you the first time, Angel, what did you say?” His shadow bleeds across your form, like an immense, horrible darkness and so you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that whatever this is, whatever that was about to be inflicted on you would disappear.
“I know I didn't just hear you say no to me, baby,” your limbs stop their idle protests when Sungchan's hand slithers up your skirt, “You're too good an angel to ever say no to me, right?” Your mouth is trembling as his words wash over the side of your face, “You're too fucking pathetic to say no to anyone.”
“Sungchan- please-”
“Please?” He asks, swiping his fingers past your underwear, “Please stop or Please carry on?” Your mind is completely overrun with both panic and a second, more sinister second feeling that you truly did not want to confront in a moment like this. All you wanted to focus on was escaping the iron grip, keeping your cheeks pushed against the desk, where a small puddle of drool had accumulated from your open mouth.
You writhe underneath him, valiantly trying to get his fingers away from you, but your movements only cause the first bit delecrable of friction against your cunt.
“That's it,” He whispers, “That's a good little slut,” Sungchan watches as you continue to push your cunt back against his fingers, subsequently raking the first moan out of your clogged throat.
“Look at you…” He marvels at the sight of you. How easily you've gotten wet for him despite being completely and wholeheartedly defiant just a moment before. Sungcham doesn't know whether to look at your pussy desperately trying to pleasure itself with his fingers, or your face, and those pretty half lidded eyes rolling to back of your head.
“You can't so no to anything, can you?” He finally pushes two digits in, immediately causing you to gasp underneath him, “You'll let anyone fuck this pussy raw, hm? Even me?” His words are enough to have you writing even more underneath him.
“F-Fuck you-” Sungchan buries his fingers inside of you, all too pleased to watch you attempt to stave off the pleasure coursing through your body. His cock is fucking aching at the sight and it only has him fingering you harder and faster.
“You're gonna cum on my fingers, yeah? You're gonna cum like the sick fucking slut you are?” Your body is racked with unbearable spasms as you're forced into your first orgasm. The room goes white and all you're consumed by is the feeling of Sungchan's massive fingers inside of you and your head still pressed to the side of the table. You're fucking back against his fingers and he watches, completely enamored with his mouth hanging limply open. He is utterly taken with the sight.
“Fuck, you're so hot,” the room spins and it takes a few seconds to notice you're not pressed against the desk anymore.
Now you're being pulled up and pushed with your ass against the desk while Sungchan towers over you, hurriedly fiddling with his belt as he glares down at you with monotonous lust. He doesn't smile. He doesn't crack any incessant jokes, he only grabs you by your neck and forces his hand in your mouth.
“Spit,” you do more than that. You gag around his fingers, until Sungchan is finally satisfied with the string of saliva when he slips his hand out.
“Watch,” his forces you to bow your head and watch him coat his aching red cock with your spit. He jerks himself off right in front of you, loving the way your eyes stay glued on his dick.
“You're such a dirty fucking slut, you know that?” He is saying it to himself at this point. Words drenched in arousal and uttered through clenched teeth, “You’re such a pretty fucking slut, aren't you, Princess?”
You can't stop your eyes from watching how he fucks himself, you can't bare to look away.
“Are you gonna fuck me?” Your voice is hoarse and shaking,
“Are you asking me to fuck you?”
All it takes is one nod before he's pushing you backwards against the small table and forcing himself between your open legs. “Then I'll give you what you want,” he whispers before pushing himself inside of you, completely knocking the wind out of your lungs.
He's too big. Far too big, and you try to tell him this by pawing lamely at the lapels of his letterman.
“F-Fuck, this pussy is so fucking tight!” Sungchan rolls his head back and you stare up at him as if he were a God as he drags your hips towards his, fucking you completely dumb on his cock.
“Is this what you wanted, Angel? You wanted my dick inside you like a needy fucking slut.”
“Sungchan I'm c-cumming, FUCK-” Your orgasm quite literally sneaks up on you and it has you throwing your head back while Sungchan continues to fuck himself into you. He watches you writhe and scream and he feels you clench his dick impossibly tighter.
“F-Fuck you're gonna me me cum,” he whispers, causing the very familiar feeling of alarm to pour out of you. You struggle against him but Sungchan keeps his palm lpcked around your neck, keeping your body very much against his.
"S-Sungchan, please."
"Stop moving or im really gonna cum," you try to push him away but your movements only succeed in raking a broken moan out him.
"You can't cum inside! Fucking- Stop,"
Sungchan is completely caught in the throes of his own prgasm. You're not sure if he hears you at all through all his mumbling and moaning.
“Fuck, angel, you're gonna make me-” Sungchan's thrust grow incredibly sloppy and you nearly start crying until he guides himself out of you, spilling his seed all over your drenched cunt. "F-Fuck, I pulled put, see?" He's breathing heavily as he continues to milk out tye rest of his cum and your lips are quivering, "I pulled out, Angel, don't worry."
The palm across the side of your face is warm, almost disarming, "You'll help me out, right? You'll help me get back on the court." Your lips have yet to stop their horrible quivering, "I need your help, Angel. You know I do,"
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hamsterclaw · 4 months
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Black Ice
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Bangtan Christmas drabble 7 - read the rest here.
Min Yoongi only cares about three things. The thrill of drifting, his friends, and cars, in that order. Somehow, you've got under his skin. Part of the Drift Kings AU.
Pairing: Yoongi x f! reader
Rating: 18+
Genre: Street racer/mechanic! Yoongi, smut
Word count: 3.2k
Warnings: Sex, swearing
Min Yoongi knows loneliness. He knows the unrelenting ache of it, the way it permeates every aspect of one’s psyche.
He knows what it feels like to look for a connection that isn’t there.
When he was ten his father took him into work for the first time, and it was then, amongst the smells of engine oil and new paint and pinewood air freshener, that Yoongi discovered his first true love.
He pored over engine diagrams, admired the easy simplicity of every tool falling into its destined purpose, got used to his clothes being stained from tuning up cars all day long.
He’d loved every minute of it, and the truth is, he still does.
Then his cousin Yijin had given him a lift down Mount Samo one day, and 14 year old Yoongi had learned that there was more than one way to soar.
He learned to drive navigating the hairpin bends of Mount Samo, and although he’s perfected the art of drifting up and down it, could do it blindfolded a hundred times over, the thrill of it has never really faded.
He’s picked up a collection of friends over the years, all of whom love the adrenaline of street racing – not knowing what’s round the corner, trusting your own reflexes and instincts to save you when you can barely see for the blood rushing in your veins. 
Kim Seokjin, his oldest and closest friend, the chaebol prince who can put together a Supra’s turbo-2JZ engine almost as quickly as Yoongi himself. His sister, a corporate princess who makes Yoongi’s heart soften and the opposite happen to his cock. They’re the two people Yoongi would do anything for, not that he’d ever tell them that. 
Jung Hoseok, the gifted mechanic with a heart of gold and the sunniest demeanour Yoongi’s ever been able to tolerate, creature of the night that he is. 
Jeon Jungkook, the baby fuckboi of the group, a man with the looks of a god and the persona of a baby deer. Yoongi finds it hard to be anything but endeared by his earnest good nature and anything but amused by his swaggering. Maybe one day the kid will grow into the bad man he so badly wants to be, but Yoongi hopes not. He’s great the way he is. 
It’s been a while since Yoongi felt lonely, in fact his life’s pretty good right about now. 
And at this exact moment? It’s perfect. 
Yoongi’s senses are on overdrive as he swings into a hairpin bend on Mount Samo, tires gripping tarmac sideways. His foot taps the throttle, his hand on the handbrake just in case but he doesn’t need it, he knows the terrain so well his body’s reacting on instinct. 
Sideways on he can see Seokjin to his right, composed, barely breaking a sweat as his rear wheels scrape the very edge of the path, inches from the steep drop. 
Yoongi catches sight of himself in his own rearview mirror, teeth bared in a feral grin as he shoots out onto the final stretch, so fast there’s nothing to see but black. 
He’d normally stop, celebrate his win with a cigarette, but he’s got somewhere to be tonight. 
Behind him now, Seokjin’s headlamps flicker in lieu of a goodbye. 
Yoongi depresses the horn, a sharp short blast, and then he’s gone. 
***
Kang Yubin’s been supplying Yoongi’s father’s garage for years, and Yoongi’s been going to him for car parts since before he knew a spark plug from a catalytic converter. 
The Kang warehouse has an unassuming front in an industrial estate on the outskirts of Seoul. Yoongi parks outside the familiar glass door, can see the dim lighting filtering through the tinted glass as he approaches. 
He pushes open the door, stops, nonplussed. 
Instead of Kang Yubin’s steel-rimmed glasses and grey hair, he’s greeted by you. 
Half your face is obscured by a black face mask, your hair up under a baseball cap, but you’re definitely not who he expected to see. 
He blinks. 
Your eyebrows rise. 
‘Are you lost?’ you inquire, an edge to your voice that pulls him out of his surprised reaction and reminds him why he’s here. 
‘I was expecting Mr Kang,’ Yoongi replies. 
Coming closer to the counter he picks up on a guardedness to your posture, a weariness that you don’t bother to hide. 
‘I’m his granddaughter,’ you say, brief. ‘I’m guessing you didn’t just come here to stare at me, what do you want?’ 
‘Spark plugs – I have a —’ Yoongi breaks off as you get up. 
‘I know who you are, and I know what car you drive. Stay here and I’ll get you your stuff.’
You disappear behind a door, return in minutes with a cardboard box. 
You pull a box-cutter out of a desk drawer, slit the masking tape, pull the flaps up. 
‘Feel free to take a look,’ you say, looking at him. 
It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to verify that they’re what he needs. 
‘How do you know who I am?’ he asks, as he pays. 
There’s a faint spark in your eyes, a flicker so quick he wonders if he’s mis-read it. 
‘My grandfather said you were due around this time.’ 
You nudge your shoulder vaguely in the direction of the screen to your left, a view from the camera overlooking the front of the warehouse. ‘Not many people drive a car like that.’ 
You take his money, nudge the box in his direction. 
‘Pleasure doing business, Min Yoongi. I’ll give my grandfather your regards.’ 
You’re already looking back down at your phone like you’ve dismissed him. 
Yoongi picks up the box, casts another glance at you, and leaves. 
He’s still thinking about you when he reaches home. 
***
Yoongi’s concentrating so hard on the engine in front of him that he barely hears Seokjin approach. 
‘Dinner?’ asks Seokjin, eyes flicking over the V configuration of the 8 chrome cylinders in the custom Nissan with interest. 
Yoongi leans back, massages the crick in his neck from leaning over. 
‘Yeah. Quick though, the client wants a rush on this.’ 
They exchange a look. 
‘More money than sense,’ Seokjin says, critical. 
‘Pays the bills,’ Yoongi counters. 
They have similar opinions about rich clients who want their supercars tuned up. It’s rare that a client’s got the ability to do justice to the horsepower under the bonnet of the flashy exteriors. 
Yoongi shrugs, goes to wash his hands. 
‘Is your sister coming?’ he asks. 
Seokjin’s still admiring the engine. ‘Not tonight. Jimin’s in town,’ he says. ‘There’s a race later, if you change your mind. I’m meeting Jungkook after dinner.’ 
‘Is he still sulking over Mijin?’ Yoongi asks, falling into step beside Seokjin. 
There’s no need to confirm where they’re going, they always stop at a tiny restaurant run by an elderly woman who seems utterly unimpressed by their good manners but makes the best broth in town. 
Seokjin rolls his eyes, but his tone is sympathetic. ‘You know how it is. People never expect him to be as soft as he really is.’ 
Yoongi nods. ‘Tell him if she can’t appreciate him she’s the one missing out.’ 
Seokjin snorts. ‘Tell him yourself, he’ll love it. Are you coming to Seulgi’s party?’ 
It’s rare that Yoongi goes out at night, he’s busy and he does his best work at night time, both in the workshop and on the streets, but he’d promised Seokjin he’d go. 
‘Next week?’ he asks. 
Seokjin nods, pushes open the door to the restaurant. 
‘Yeah, don’t forget.’ 
***
Seulgi is a friend of Seokjin’s, they’d dated briefly, years back, but it hadn’t worked out. 
She greets Seokjin enthusiastically at the door, the pink flush on her cheeks deepening as Seokjin gives her an affectionate hug. 
She beams at Yoongi, and he smiles back because he’s not proof against her cheerful nature. 
It’s how he became friends with Hoseok, after all. 
‘Drinks, let me get you drinks,’ Seulgi cheers, leading them into her kitchen. 
Seokjin’s swept away by Seulgi and her friends, he’s always been a popular guy. He shoots Yoongi a look as he’s pulled into the lounge, which Yoongi pretends not to see. 
He lifts his cup to his lips, decides to go outside for a bit. 
The deck outside has a few scattered people, mostly couples, some groups. 
Yoongi leans against the wall, looks around idly. The throbbing bass of the music feels like a heartbeat. The night is cold and crisp, the skies clear, but there aren’t any stars visible in Seulgi’s backyard. 
He lets his mind wander to his next project, restoring a classic Toyota for a friend from the circuit. He’ll need parts. 
He wonders if you’ll be behind the counter when he next goes to the Kang warehouse. Then he’s straightening up, unsure if he’s manifested you into reality. 
He’s never seen your full face, but he’d know your eyes anywhere. 
You’re standing across the deck, looking straight at him, coat open over a dress that shows a hell of a lot more than the hoodie and sweats you had on the last time he saw you. 
For the first time tonight, Yoongi feels a prickle of interest. 
He’d known you’d be beautiful, there’d been something about the way you carried yourself.
You’re still looking at him. 
Yoongi walks over. 
‘Who’s manning the warehouse?’ he asks, when he gets close enough. 
You tilt your head. ‘Are you really so concerned about my family business, Min Yoongi?’ 
There’s a mocking note in your voice, Yoongi finds he likes it. 
‘You have the best quality parts,’ he says. 
Your smile blooms over your face, making your eyes bright. ‘I knew there was a reason my grandfather liked you.’ 
Yoongi nods to your dress. ‘You look pretty.’ 
‘Thank you,’ you say. ‘You look pretty too.’
Yoongi can feel his lips curving. Are you flirting with him? Seems like you are.
He’s all for it.
You’re raising your cup now, taking a sip.
In the night time lighting, your lips glisten with moisture and whatever lipstick you’ve got on, making him wonder what they’d look like around his cock.
You eye him like you know exactly what he’s thinking.
Yoongi says, ‘Do you like cars? Want to see mine?’
***
You’ve got your legs either side of his torso, your ass bouncing in his lap, and Yoongi’s front seat’s reclined all the way to make room for you to ride him.
The lines of your beautiful body are reminiscent of a triumph of masters of Italian design. Long smooth thighs, tightening around him with every rhythmic thrust. 
The curves of your breasts, bouncing right in his face.
The long line of your neck, head thrown back, the pulse in your throat fluttering as he holds your hips so he can fuck you back, fuck up into your sweet warmth.
His cock fits inside you like he was made for you, and god fucking damn, you feel so good around him he’s on a hair trigger.
Yoongi cups the back of your head, tugs you down so you’re close. Goosebumps prickle your flesh as he tells you how good you are.
Your eyes close as he kisses your bare neck, flicks his tongue against your skin.
You had been whimpering steadily as your arousal dripped down onto him, soaking his balls, pooling at the base of his cock, and as Yoongi picks up the pace he’s gratified by the hitch in your breathing.
Yoongi’s always been damn good at helping his partners find their pleasure, and he’s sure as hell not going to stop now.
Your breasts are still in his face, half out the low neck of your dress, chest heaving.
Yoongi rubs his thumb over the outline of your hardened nipple, and you cry out, muffled with your mouth against his skin but still loud enough to make his ears ring.
His balls tighten up even more as your walls flutter around him, and Yoongi would know you were coming even if you hadn’t gasped it.
God, you’re so sweet and sexy he’s lost.
He can feel your panting breaths against his neck, the weight of your warm body as it goes lax after your peak, the sweet grip of your cunt taking in everything he has to give you as he releases, a pulse of pleasure so intense it sends shockwaves through his skin.
Yoongi’s floating, and like reaching the summit of Mount Samo, he immediately wants to do it again.
You’re looking at him, lips still so swollen and pretty his spent cock gives a residual throb inside you.
‘Like my car?’ Yoongi asks. It’s stupid, but it makes you laugh and he’ll be as stupid as you like if it makes you sound like that.
Your chin lifts, and you say, ‘It’s all right.’
The flash of merriment in your eyes gives you away.
Yoongi laughs. ‘Maybe next time we can get the car started and I can actually take you somewhere.’
‘I don’t know,’ you tease. ‘Are you a good driver?’
Yoongi reaches out, tucks the lock of hair that’s fallen over your eye behind your ear.
‘Let’s find out,’ he says. ‘Where do you want to go?’
***
Yoongi’s thinking about you the next morning when he wakes up. He’d ended up taking you back to your place, where you’d kissed him sweetly at the door and bid him goodbye like a promise to see him again. 
His phone rings and he’s still got you on his mind, so it takes a second for him to regroup. 
‘The maknae needs help,’ Seokjin says, no preamble. ‘I’m going to swing by yours, be there in ten.’ 
Yoongi hangs up, wonders what the hell Jungkook’s got himself into this time. 
By the time Seokjin arrives, Yoongi’s had time to bolt coffee and change, but Seokjin still raises a brow as he swings into the passenger seat. 
As always, Seokjin’s impeccably dressed, dark hair swept back from his forehead like he’s going to his own fucking wedding instead of about to deal with some shit that’s going down. 
Yoongi suppresses a yawn, tugs his beanie down over his brow. 
‘What’s going down with JK?’ he asks. 
Seokjin cuts off another car so smoothly they’re halfway down the intersection before the irritated horn blares. 
‘Remember that race the other day? Jungkook beat Seungho fair and square, I was there.’ 
Yoongi groans. ‘The fuck. I thought we weren’t going to race that fragile asshole anymore.’ 
Seokjin glances in the rearview. ‘The maknae was still hurting over Mijin, I thought an easy win might make him feel better.’ 
‘So what’s Seungho done?’ 
‘Brought in the big guns,’ Seokjin says grimly. ‘Called in some guys from Hongkong. JK’s with them now.’ 
Now Yoongi’s fully awake. ‘Should’ve taken my car instead of this piece of shit,’ he says. 
Seokjin just laughs. ‘Don’t worry about my car, Yoongi. Maybe think of a way to hide that big–ass hickey on your neck.’ 
‘Suck my dick,’ Yoongi says, like they’re 16 again. 
‘Looks like someone already did,’ Seokjin returns. 
***
Yoongi parks up outside the Kang warehouse, pushes open the door. 
You look up from your phone. Your face mask is off, so Yoongi has the privilege of seeing the way your lips curve in a smile. 
‘There’s been a shipment of fuel injectors,’ you say. ‘Want to take a look?’ 
Yoongi stops just in front of the wooden half-panel that separates you from him. 
He tilts his head. 
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Also, I took my friend’s Honda for a spin today, I’ve got a list.’ 
He smooths out the piece of paper he’s got folded in his pocket, places it on the counter. 
You pick it up, get up. ‘I’ve got you.’ 
Yoongi runs a hand over the hickey over his neck. ‘I’ve been taking shit all day, about this,’ he adds. 
‘Yeah?’ you ask, but you don’t seem the least bit contrite. ‘You did your share of marking, Min Yoongi.’ 
Yoongi asks, ‘What time do you get off?’ 
You’re about to answer when the door opens. 
Yoongi turns and tenses immediately. 
Fucking Shin Seungho. 
‘You following me?’ he asks mildly. 
Seungho scoffs, doesn’t deign to reply. 
‘I’m collecting an order,’ he says to you. 
Your face mask is back on, your face carefully blank. ‘Sure, what’s the name?’ 
When you go into the back to collect it Seungho turns to Yoongi. 
Yoongi concentrates on the silkscreen of a cat on the wall behind the counter. 
He can feel Seungho’s eyes on his face. 
Just try it, fucker. 
The fact was, he’d pushed Seokjin’s Honda to its limits beating Seungho’s friends today, and although the adrenaline’s ebbed, there’s a thin streak still running through his bloodstream, and he’s a spark away from igniting. 
Seungho takes a step closer, and Yoongi turns to face him like he’s got all the time in the world. 
You return just as Seungho opens his filthy mouth. 
‘Looks like you’ve paid,’ you say, passing the box across the counter to Seungho. 
You pull out the box cutter, slit the package, open it up for him to check, but don’t put it down. 
‘Am I going to have trouble here, boys?’ you ask. 
Seungho barely looks your way, Yoongi’s always known the man lacks vision. 
‘Nah,’ Seungho says finally. He picks up the box, sneers at Yoongi. 
Yoongi blanks his expression. There’s no way he’s going to start shit with Seungho in front of you. 
The asshole’s not worth it. 
As soon as the door closes behind Seungho you put down the box cutter. 
The next words out of your mouth surprise him. 
‘Shit, you’re hot when you’re mad, Yoongi.’ 
Yoongi stares at you, flummoxed, then he laughs. 
‘Just when I’m mad?’ he asks. 
You shrug. ‘Take me out on a date and I’ll tell you more.’ 
‘How about right now?’ Yoongi asks. 
‘Yeah,’ you say. ‘Let’s go.’ 
***
As your grip on his hair loosens, Yoongi lifts his mouth from your cunt, swipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Helps you tug your panties back up, smooths your skirt back down over your thighs. 
He notices you’ve still got his cum in the corner of your lips. As he watches, you flick your tongue out, lick delicately. 
His cock stirs with interest, and you act like you know it. 
‘More later?’ you ask. 
‘Yeah. After I win.’ 
Yoongi reaches over to help you with your seatbelt, arranging it across your chest, between your breasts, securing it. 
You lean forward and kiss him as the belt clicks into place. 
Yoongi starts the engine, turns the heating back on because he’s noticed your hands get cold easily. 
‘I can drop you off at home before the race,’ he offers. ‘Come see you after.’ 
‘I want to see you drive,’ you say.
Yoongi wouldn’t say it, but he’s pleased. He knows he’ll keep you safe, it’s a circuit through the city outskirts he’s done a million times, and he’s looking forward to you meeting Seokjin and Hoseok and Jungkook. 
He flicks on the lights, rolls into oncoming traffic. Heads North. 
By the time he pulls up to the starting line there’s the usual crowd gathered. He parks up next to Seokjin and Hoseok.  
In his rearview he can see JK surrounded by people. He’s lost the sad puppy air he had for a few weeks whilst he was pining after Mijin. The kid’s going to be all right, not that Yoongi’s ever had any doubt about that. 
Engines all around him are starting up, a deafening series of rumbles. 
Beside him, Seokjin waves, and Hoseok smiles so brightly it’s blinding. 
The flag waves, and Yoongi accelerates. 
Checks on you in the rearview, and you’re as pretty as he remembers. 
Min Yoongi’s spent a lot of his life looking for connection, and by his reckoning, he’s doing pretty well right about now. 
Lights flash by in a blur. 
Yoongi drives. 
Author note: And that's a wrap! Thank you for reading, hope you've enjoyed, here's to a brighter 2024. This time last year we were saying goodbye to Kim Seokjin, I can't wait to start welcoming the boys back again. Happy holidays to you all!
©hamsterclaw 2023
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stevenose · 6 months
Text
𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖌𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘 (18+)
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kinktober: powers!steve edition
summary: the charming man you met at the bar isn’t quite what he seems.
contains: reader with a vagina and breasts; steve with powers; pain and pleasure play; nipple play; overstimulation; mind break/dumbification; softly dominant steve; oral (steve receiving); piv; condescension; praise
word count: 4.1k
a/n: feedback as always is appreciated <3 muah
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You’ve been staring at the stranger’s hands all night. Watching as they wrap around his whiskey glass, as his fingers trace the rim, as they grip at your thighs later on. There’s something about them. You’re acutely aware of this when he touches you - an indescribable warmth stretches over the expanse of your leg. You relax, almost glowing where his skin meets yours. It feels good, right, and when he asks you if you’d hop in a cab with him to his two story apartment in the Upper East Side, you say yes. You’re dumb and compliant as you follow him - Steve - out into the night with his hand squeezing yours. That tingling heat travels up your arm and makes you relax more. He hails a taxi, smiling down at you with straight, white teeth, brunette hair bobbing over his eyebrows. 
You feel bad for the driver. Steve’s lips are on yours before he even tells him his address. He mumbles it out and fists through his pockets for two twenty dollar bills, throwing them at the front seat before hips lips collide with yours again. You didn’t have time to snap your seatbelt into place. You twist, hitching a leg up over his while he holds you in his arms. It’s romantic. Especially the way he kisses you, deep and purposeful. His perfect nose smashes against yours while you both breathe into each other’s mouths. 
And his hands - he leaves a trail of pleasure up and down your skin. Your legs, your arms, your back are all sizzling with it. The ache between your legs is hard to ignore, but he never quite touches you there during this short car ride. When the cab driver honks the horn to snap you out of it, alerting you to your arrival at Steve’s, he throws him another twenty before dragging you back out into the night. 
The air is cold and it snaps you out of your pleasured haze immediately. You follow him quietly as he bounds up the stone steps of his apartment. You knew he was rich with the gold watch he wore on his slim wrist, the cologne on his neck - but his apartment adorns stained glass and elegant cornice on the exterior. You slide your hand down his back as he fumbles with his key. His navy button down is surely made of fine silk. It hugs his biceps as they flex, then ease as he pushes the large chestnut door open. 
You’re gently pushed up against it once it’s shut. Steve’s hands explore your torso, tugging up your shirt. You moan. Those hands - you’ve never felt something like this before, and you’re not a stranger to one-night-stands. Steve is different. Magic may be a better word to use. His hands are riddled with it as his calloused palms stroke your sides. He’s slow to move them up towards your bra, and you find yourself whimpering, “Please?”
He smiles and presses his lips against yours as he lets his thumbs caress the underside of your bra. “Good manners,” he mumbles into your mouth. He tastes like whiskey and cigarettes. “So good for me already.”
You’d do nearly anything he asks. Maybe even entirely anything he asks. You arch your back and bite his bottom lip in an attempt to entice him, which seems to work. His hands grope your tits, cupping them, and at first you feel the same warm tingle. But then, suddenly, a jolt of pleasure runs through your chest and down your spine. You gasp, pushing yourself into him while moaning, your eyes rolling back. 
“Oh, did you like that?” Steve asks lowly. His lips move to the corner of your mouth, then your jawline. His hands knead you over your bra for a moment before sliding behind you to unclasp it. He doesn’t take it off, but rather tucks his hands underneath it. Skin on skin, your jaw goes slack with his lips sucking gently at your neck. “Knew you’d make such pretty sounds.”
When his thumbs roll over your perked nipples, that same shockwave hits you. Your thighs clench shut, ecstasy shooting through your torso and settling heavy on your clit. “Ah!” you cry, fisting his hair as he sucks on your sweet spot, thumbs still keeping busy. “Mmph, fuck - wh- what are you d-doing?”
You feel Steve smile against your neck. He bites gently on your pulse point before pulling back to look at you. “Can you keep a secret?”
Brows furrowed, but head dizzy with pleasure, you nod. 
“You have to promise,” he sings, “or I can take your pleasure away just… like… this.”
A sudden painful shock replaces whatever indulgence his hands were just giving you. You cry out, tears pricking at your waterline, but just as quick he soothes you. The gentle sensation you’re used to returns, body relaxing against his. 
“O-okay,” you groan. “Promise.”
Steve chuckles, takes your chin in his hand and pulls your face up to look you in the eyes. He’s gentle, brown irises filled with adoration you’ve never seen before. “Do you trust me?”
You really don’t have much of a reason to, but you nod. You’re comfortable with him. He’d made you laugh all night, showing himself to be a charming and suave and yet very dorky young bachelor. And, anyway, you’re fairly certain you could beat him up if it came to that. 
“Sure,” you say breathlessly. 
Steve leans forward for a gentle kiss before pulling away. “Come with me.”
“Are you going to tell me?” you ask, taking his hand once again and letting him lead you to a large, but relatively empty, bedroom. His striped bedspread is endearing. 
His brows shift. “Tell you what?”
“Your secret,” you whisper loudly, bending down to remove your shoes. “How did you do that?”
“Oh,” he smiles. He grabs a pillow from his bed and returns to you with it, placing it on the floor. “Mind getting on your knees for me first?”
Heat courses through you as you do as you’re told. Below him, you feel small, especially as he rolls up his sleeves, showing his strong forearms. You’re still hyper-fixated on his hands, though, as he lets them rest on his belt. You lick your lips and press your thighs together. Noticing, Steve bends down and presses his fingers against your lips. Obediently, you part your mouth slightly to let three of them slip inside. You suck on them, your tongue feeling a little buzzed as you do. 
“I’m sure you understand now that I’m not exactly normal,” he says softly, eyes searching yours. “I can use my hands to make you feel two things. Immense pleasure, or immense pain.”
You can’t ask any questions with your mouth full, and you feel confident he wouldn’t answer any, anyway. You stare at him with half-hooded eyes, a deep, soft fog settling in your brain. 
“So you can leave, and I’ll never talk to you again. I’ll even pay for your cab home.” He seems a little sidetracked by your fingers, watching your lips for a long moment before continuing. “Or you can stay, be good for me, and let me fuck you brainless.”
Your breath hitches and stomach flips. 
“Totally up to you,” he adds. “I won’t be upset. But I think you want to stay.”
You do. Desperately. You might lose your mind if he kicks you out. You’re sure you could get addicted to him - you may already be. You nod slowly, tongue dipping between his fingers. 
“Yeah? Can you say it, baby?” He withdraws his fingers and looks at you expectantly. 
“I want to be good for you.”
He smiles handsomely. “Okay, pretty thing. But you’d better be really good, okay? You know I can take it away from you.”
“Please don’t.”
“Then be good.” He straightens, moving his hands towards the buckle of his belt. “You okay with this? I usually like being on top, if that’s okay with you.”
“I can take you,” you promise. “I’ll let you know when I’m not okay.”
He extends a hand, pinky outstretched. “Promise?”
You smile and cross your pinky with his. “Promise, handsome.”
He’s sidetracked by your smile, again, before finally snapping out of it and straightening. “You’re real goddamn good at sucking, sweetheart. Wanna taste somethin’ sweet?”
Your eyes almost cross as you watch him unbuckle his belt and slide his pants down just enough to fish his cock out of his briefs. You weren’t entirely expecting him to have superpowers and a huge cock, but the man is certainly an enigma. His dick is pretty, pale and long, curving up towards his stomach. Precum glistens at the tip. You watch with wide-eyed fascination as it twitches and hardens fully. 
Steve wraps his fist around it and whistles low as he stares down at you. “Been thinking of this since you told me your name,” he groans, jerking himself off slowly. “Wanted to see how much you could take. How much of a good pleasure whore you could be for me.”
You plead with your eyes, pouting a little, wanting permission to taste him. 
“Y’wanted this too, huh?” His pretty caramel eyes are half closed. “Came to the bar looking for a nice man to fuck you? You got real lucky, huh?”
“Really lucky,” you breathe. You watch his precum slide down his shaft and disappear behind his fist. 
“Take off your shirt,” he commands softly. 
You’re too preoccupied with staring at the veins on his cock and forearms to hear him. He sighs above you and reaches his free hand out to place it on the top of your head. You don’t have time to react - a searing pain, much like a migraine, floods through your skull for a split second. Just as quick, the pain is relieved and replaced with warmth. Your head falls back before he brings it forward. His pink lips frown down at you. 
“What did I say?”
You blink up at him, nuzzling your head against his palm. “I’m sorry.”
“You get too distracted?”
You nod slowly. 
“Eyes on me then,” he says softly, tilting your head up to look at him. “Take off your clothes for me.”
You nod again, quickly reaching for the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head. Your unclasped bra falls to your thighs, and you swat it out of the way. You shimmy your skirt off of your hips and awkwardly move to toss it aside from you. All the while, Steve jerks himself off. You wonder if he can make himself feel the same pleasure he gives you. Judging by the amount of precum pooling at his tip, you’d imagine he can. Your thumbs tuck into the waistband of your underwear, but Steve shakes his head. 
“Keep those on,” he encourages. “I want to take them off, see how soaked you’ve made ‘em.”
You almost moan. You smell your own arousal even with your legs shut tight. 
“Can you pinch those pretty nipples for me?” Steve asks, voice husky. 
Your hands move to them immediately. They’re still sensitive from the pleasure he gave you before. Your face twists, brows knitting together and lips parting. 
“Look how pretty,” he coos. Looking behind him, he sits on the edge of his bed. His fist engulfs his swollen cock, but you force yourself not to look at it. Instead, you look up at his velvety eyes, his heavy lids, while you play with yourself. “C’mere.”
You crawl forward a bit, abandoning the pillow. You rest between his thighs, lips and nose nearly touching his shaft. Still, you look upwards. He smiles down at you, removing his hand from his cock. “Go on, look at it.”
You’re obsessed. Thick, long, wet. Your mouth waters and you swallow hard. 
“Taste it,” he says, wrapping a hand through your hair and gently pulling you forward. 
Steve moans softly when your wet tongue caresses his length. You lick up the salt of his precum, eyes crossing. You’re focused on his tip, how pink it is, how it drools for you. You massage your tongue up to it and look up at him through your lashes. When your tongue dips into his slit, he lets his head fall back. Seemingly unable to give verbal encouragement, he rests his hand on your head again. 
You’re devastated with pleasure. Your mind doesn’t exist anymore. The only things that do are Steve, his cock, and your cunt. The pleasure is almost orgasmic, even without it traveling down to your clit. Your brain feels like it’s cumming. It’s indescribable, and you drool on his length. 
“Yeah, that’s it,” he praises, his head moving forward to look at you again. “Oh, baby, please suck it.”
Suck. You wrap your lips around the fat tip of his dick and hollow your cheeks, drool sliding past your lips and down towards his balls. Steve gasps, tightening his hand in your hair and gently pushing you down. “Hot little mouth,” he groans. “Look at me.”
Your eyes roll upwards again. Your tongue swirls while his chest heaves. A thick drop of precum lands on your tongue and makes you moan, clit throbbing. Your head bobs downwards, taking more of him inside. Hollowed cheeks and spit-slick chin makes Steve whimper, but he’s still assertive when one of his hands moves down to pinch your nipple. You squeal, the pleasure extended from your skull to your tits. 
“Need to feel you do that on my cock,” he groans, tugging hard on your nipple before letting go. “Wanna fuck your throat, shit….”
But he doesn’t. He’s patient as he gives you the time to accommodate his shaft. All the while, he fucks with your head and your tits, your cunt drooling. Your hands move up to grip his thighs for support, to anchor you back to real life. He spreads them farther apart to give you more room. The hand on your head moves away and down to tug and twist your other nipple. Both tits played with, your arousal is insurmountable. All the while, Steve stares down at you with dark eyes and a crinkle between his thick brows. 
“Yeah, baby,” he pants, “doin’ so good. My cock fucking your brains out?”
You moan and nod, drool falling down your neck. Steve swipes it with his thumb before bringing it down to your nipples. He pulls on your tits to get you closer to the base of his shaft. His powers relax your throat, too, and he glides down easily. Not without a bit of gagging on your end, which makes Steve growl and buck his hips. He keeps his dick down your spasming throat for a few long seconds before finally pulling your head up. 
“Know what I love?” he asks. He knows you don’t have the brainpower to answer. “Let me show you.”
He gently pushes your head down on his cock again and slides into your throat. Panting, a hand wraps around your neck. He gasps and groans loudly, pleasuring his own cock through your skin, back arching to sheathe his cock fully inside of you. Your eyes roll back, as does his, and he jerks himself off through your throat for a long while before letting you off of him to gasp for air. 
“Up, on my lap,” he commands, tugging you onto your feet and pulling you quickly onto his thighs. His cock pokes against your slit through your underwear, but he doesn’t fuck you. Not yet.
Instead, Steve’s lips find your neck and he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you flush against him. Still stunned from his hands, you can only be a moaning, drooling mess atop of him. He doesn’t mind, though. If anything, it gets him harder. He sucks a dark hickey into your throat and lets his hands wander the expanse of your ass. 
“These tits,” he moans, ducking his head down to look at them. “Bet they taste so sweet…”
You cry when his warm lips wrap around a nipple. He uses his teeth, biting a little. Where you’d usually feel pain, you feel pleasure, especially as he sucks on them lavishly. Your digits wrap themselves up in his brunette locks and tug, hard. 
“Fuck,” he growls, hips bucking upwards to rub his cock against your underwear. “Feels good, huh? You fuckin’ obsessed with me?”
“Yes!” you moan, rocking your hips down onto him. “More, please, please touch me!”
He trails hot, open-mouthed kisses across your chest to your other breast. “I am touching you,” he smiles, before his lips wrap around your nipple. 
“Ah! Mmmph… oh… f-fuck….!”
His hand swats your ass, the usual pain increasing two-fold. You cry, keening. 
“You’re making such a mess,” he mumbles. “Cry a little harder for me.”
Smack!
You wail, squirming in his lap. He soothes the pain again with his palm spread wide against the flesh of your ass. 
“C-can you…?” you pant. “M…make my pussy f-feel good?”
“You mean this greedy cunt?” he asks, the hand on your ass trailing down lower. He actually gasps when he feels your underwear and looks up, grinning devilishly. “Oh, this crying, greedy cunt?”
You nod, mouth agape. That little tingling his hands give feels incredible, but it’s not enough. Not after you know what you could have. 
“Guess I should open you up, huh?” he says, eyes trained on your face. “Unless you like the pain of being stretched out?”
You shake your head. “Please, Steve, your fingers.” You moan at the thought - the pleasure they could give you, how many he could stuff inside of you. How he could make you gape before taking you with his cock. You’re so desperate for it you get tearful. “Fuck, baby, please?”
Spurred on by the pet name, he lets his fingers move under the patch of underwear. “Honey,” he laughs. “Think your brain melted out of your pussy.”
“It did,” you moan, trying to grind on his fingers. “Gotta fuck it back into me.”
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, and with no warning slides two fingers inside of you. 
“Shit!” you wail, thrashing. You need to get more of the feeling and at the same time much less of it. You’re conflicted, overstimulated by the brain breaking pleasure. All the while, your clit throbs painfully, more than desperate for attention. “Steve, I need I need I need -“
Now you can’t speak. The pads of his fingers rub against your g-spot and the white hot pleasure of it had you really, truly dumb. You couldn’t recite your name for your life. You cum swiftly, while Steve shushes you, watching your face twist and contort. He keeps going, prolonging your climax until a rush of liquid sprays out of you and onto his expensive watch. 
“Fuck yeah,” he grits out. “Yes, baby, squirt on my hand, make a mess of me - there you go!”
A third finger slips in and his assault on your pleasure point stops. You slump over, resting your cheek on his shoulder. 
“So good for me, angel,” he praises, scissoring his fingers gently. “Talk to me, honey, you okay? Need a breather?”
Your poor clit. It aches, twitches, begs for attention. You weakly reach down to push his fingers out of you. He recoils fast, breath catching in his throat, terrified that he’s hurt you. But you grab his wrist and force his fingers to your nub, moaning long and fucked out when he touches it. 
“H-Here?” he chokes out. 
“Hurts,” you mumble. “Make it feel better.”
Steve’s cock throbs. “Can I feel you?” he asks gently, helping you move your head to see him. “You okay if I do? Wanna feel this slick pussy on my cock, baby. You’re so fucking good and pretty. Gonna make you feel so good.”
Your head falls forward so you can kiss him. It’s not much - you’re weak, ditzy. Steve takes the lead, kissing you slow and deep, just as romantically as before. His hands cup your cheeks to keep your head steady, and he brushes the tip of his nose against yours. “Want a break, peach? Or are you ready?”
You grind your pudgy clit against his hand with a soft moan and nod. “Ready.”
“You’re incredible,” he coos, one hand moving to your lower back to keep you upright as the other pushes your underwear to the side. “Can you line me up, angel?”
Your hand moves to his velvety soft shaft and you press the head of his cock against your opening. “Good, baby,” he says sweetly. “Want you to take a deep breath in for me, okay?”
Your eyes fall shut as you inhale, and Steve counts. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. 
“Ah!” 
He enters you slowly, but his cock punches the air straight out of your lungs. The head of his dick pops inside of you and Steve rubs your back, the warmth helping you relax. 
“Good angel,” he praises. “I’ll stop, give you a break.”
The idea of a break enrages you. Your cunt and clit need him. You gather your strength and slide down his shaft, knocking the air out of his lungs. His hands fly to your hips, gripping them hard, but they still give you respite. “Baby, baby, baby,” he chants, half-warning and half praise. 
You push him down, his back hitting the bed. He looks up at you wide eyed and scandalized. But if he won’t give you the pleasure he’s made you addicted to, you’ll take it. You plant your hands on his chest, still covered in that navy silk, and sit yourself on his dick. His mouth twists slowly into an O, pretty chocolate eyes pleading with you. 
“Touch my clit,” you rasp. “‘m not moving til you do.”
“Holy shit,” he whispers, pausing for his head to catch up with your command. He quickly moves his fingers, two of them caressing the swollen button. You gasp and keen, but try to keep your head on tight this time. Your hips lift slowly, walls closing back in on themselves, until you sit down again. The stretch is unreal - so is the feeling of him playing with your clit. You gasp and moan, shivering. 
“Didn’t expect that,” Steve says hoarsely, trying to joke. 
“Didn't I tell you?” you pant, moving faster up and down his length. “I h-hate teasing.”
“Wasn’t teasing.” The pleasure on your clit suddenly increases tenfold, forcing a high-pitched moan out of you. Steve takes advantage of your falter, and bucks his hips up, burying himself inside of you. “Just didn’t wanna break that pretty brain.”
You try so hard to stay afloat. Your shaking hands move to the middle of his shirt. You grip above the first button before pulling it apart harshly, buttons popping off and flying to the side. Steve seems shocked at first, but then his face hardens, and suddenly you're thrown up the bed and onto your stomach. 
“Could’ve asked,” he scolds, ripping the remains of his shirt off and tugging his pants down. “You really want fucked though, huh? If you want me to break that brain and this pussy, I’m more than happy to.” He presses himself against you, pushing you into the mattress and knocking air out of you. “Come on, tell me. Tell me you want to be my toy.”
“You’d keep me?” you smile. 
“Pretty thing like you? ‘Course I would.” A hand wraps around your waist and settles at your clit again. “Tell me or I can’t do this.”
Do what? “Do what you brought me here for.”
You didn’t expect that the pleasure he’s been giving you could increase. In fact, it’s hard to conceptualize, until it happens. A single finger rests on your clit and you go slack, eyes rolling painfully backwards, cunt clenching, thighs shaking. It’s otherworldly. Indescribable. Not that you could talk, anyway. You drool on his pillow and he lines his cock up with your hole before thrusting in. You gasp wetly. His cock - it’s like his hands, now. Like it’s vibrating and flooding you with warmth and somehow making mind-numbing pleasure course through your veins. 
“This?” he grunts. His cock pistons in and out of you. His weight on top of you feels good, too good, and if you could even think you’d hypothesize that every inch of his skin can bring you rapture. He’s hot, forcing air out of you, surrounding you and owning you in every single sense. 
You moan gibberish. You don’t care. You can’t. Steve chuckles in your ear, lips tickling the shell. An orgasm hits you so hard and fast that you hardly know it’s happening, the only signs being your body trembling and raw throat crying out. 
“That’s right, milk my cock. It’s yours now.”
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copepods · 1 year
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the blorbos :)
[id: 6 drawings of jschlatt, tinakitten, erynstreams, ranboo, tubbo, and wilbur soot. they are all inside boxes with their names labeled underneath. schlatt is wearing a black suit jacket and a red necktie, and he has a ram’s ears and horns. he’s grinning and pointing at himself. tina is wearing a white blouse under a green vest and a red shawl. she has cat ears and short white horns. she’s smiling and looking off to the side. eryn is wearing a dark grey tunic under a black capelet, and a black bandanna tied around his forehead. he has red horns and a devil’s tail. he’s looking at the viewer and smiling. ranboo and tubbo are smiling and putting their hands against their boxes to make a heart. ranboo’s wearing a green sweater vest over a white blouse, and he has black feathery ears and a tail. tubbo has ram’s ears and horns, and he’s wearing a green plaid shirt under a fur-trimmed vest and dark brown jacket. wilbur is wearing a yellow sweater over a white button-down with his glasses hooked on the rim, and a brown trenchcoat. he’s looking forward and smiling. end id]
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