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saiidahyunie · 20 hours

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fight night

hirai momo x f!reader

synopsis: momo makes sure you hit the canvas, and the bed.

warnings: strap-ons ; breeding kink mentioned ; just dirty, filthy, disgusting smut >:)

a/n: started writing this at around 10 am btw

“i want another round! let’s go for another round!”

despite how enthusiastic it sounded, it certainly won’t be the last time you hear that sentence tonight.

“momo,” you call out to her from the opposite corner of the ring, raking your hand through your slicked hair, muddled with all of the sweat procured from the intense sparring session you just went with her just now, “i thought i told you that i was only gonna do four rounds with you tonight.”

she tosses her headgear into the middle of the ring, a glove at her side with the wrist-wrapped hand sliding across the divot in her abs. “just one more bout, we’ll do a minute this time since it’s already late.”

watching your girlfriend move up the ranks in her weight class for the boxing division that she was competing for, in the slightest, was probably one of the most frightening experiences momo has put you through since the start of the relationship with her.

that being said, momo is, and always will be, a fighter - there’s even times where nothing else matters if she gets beat down to the ground by someone else because fighting is the only thing she knows how to do. she’ll get up, and keep going - to no end, even if her body is screaming against it at will, it’ll be until the very last bell when she gets her final say.

“fine, just this once only because ryujin isn’t here with you today.”

momo squeaked over before running across the opposite end to trap you in a hug, sweaty lips against yours while your free hand sweeps her lower back. she deepens the kiss but forces her weight on you, just enough for your back to meet the ropes, letting a small groan escape into her mouth.

you’re not the one at fault to get momo riled up with moments like these, but for the sake of your girlfriend’s sanity, you made sure to not be in the gym with her that much - especially with the goddamn sparring sessions because she’s always looking to see if you’re watching her beat or get beat.

a simple two tap out signals momo to stop for a second, landing another few kisses swiping your bottom lip, “fuck–momo, it’s not that big of a deal.” you say, calloused ridges of your palm feeling the subtle warm heat on her cheeks to the touch. “let’s get this last round in baby, then we can have our fun.”

“oh yeah?” momo challenges, her free hand beneath shorts kneading your ass, a light gasp of the chipped armor she finally manages to break, “and what do i get for knocking you out in sixty seconds?”

“well…” it’s a tempting proposition, she knows your body equally as hers. the subtle touches in areas that lifts that sly smile of yours, the moans that shake loose off her lips when you’re all over her aching, needy–

“if you can knock me out by then, i’ll be free of use for you when we get home.”

momo coos, finger and thumb at the peak of your chin when the soft chuckle leaves your lips. “i do like the sound of that.”

“if you don’t, then nothing will happen.” you add, pressing a finger to her chest, pushing her away to the other corner. “i’m not like your sparring partner ryujin, so i don’t plan to go easy.”

“you were never an easy girl to appeal to.”

“tell that to richard’s fighter that put a number on you three weeks ago.”

“oh, fuck you.”

“you probably will.” quipping, “headgear on, we don’t have all night.”

—

momo is structured, but always forgets.

and she definitely forgot about the right hander you had when she’s on the ropes.

stumbling out, and you’re laughing, mocking her. you’re all for the taunting and trash-talking. it’s something you picked up from momo’s trainer, jihyo, constantly berating her all of the different kinds of things that even whittled down to ‘you’re shitty because you’re fucking breathing!’ there’s so many stories you’ve herald from the other fighters in the gym, so you’re working your magic to get momo to let her frustrations out.

“you call that a southpaw? c’mon, where’s the momo that i know who can land a better hit than that?! is it because i’m your girlfriend and you’re giving me slack?”

momo wipes her chin, studying everything that you’re currently modeling right now. your left hand is up to your midsection, right hand lowered, shoulders slumped like they’re relaxed, skipping in place on the balls of your feet, staying light and quick. it’s only been ten seconds into the round and momo needs one way in.

“you’re all talk for someone that’s not a boxer.” she says, gloves hitting against each other signifying that she’s good to go.

“don’t go easy on me.”

you get complacent, momo surges forward with a low blow to your stomach. luckily your right hand swings forward to parry the hit before reeling back to the flying left hand momo sends after. right hook is sent to momo’s head and she takes it, good, shuffling back against the corner where you’re in the driver's seat. she has to play defense, and you have free reign with firing the relentless jabs to any open area on momo’s body.

momo’s hands shield her face, elbows protecting her stomach as best as she can while you’re sending a flurry of hooks left and right. she sees the window of opportunity when you’re sending another uppercut when she hits the area where your liver was at, making you slightly disoriented. that was the second she needed, and all of the sudden the momentum shifted in momo’s favor, sending a right hook, a left jab, two quick hit in the same area again before the haymaker right to the left side of your face.

that was momo’s strength, her fast reflexes and punches gave you little to no time to adjust and before you knew it, you’re doubled back on the canvas, falling to the right before rolling over and laying upwards.

—

you’re zipping up your duffel bag when momo hugs you from behind, with an ice pack in her hand. you hum at the peace offering, taking it and putting it on your forehead to soothe the pain from momo’s killer hook.

it was so cute to see your boxer girlfriend tend to your care and yes, she felt bad. she needed the motivation after taking that loss in that fight with the up and comer making a name for themselves in the boxing scene. the loss was hard for momo at the time and she really took it to heart, but like all things in life, we move forward.

“sorry,” momo says, palming your head while you give her a soft smirk, accepting her apology right away before she schpiels out on how - “i didn’t mean to hit you that hard, and you were giving me a lot of crap which was annoying and—”

“momo,” hand up to stop her from tumbling her words, “it’s fine. it’s okay, you gave me a run for my money.” and momo shuts up, defeated that she beat up her own girlfriend out of a bit of anger. “besides, you’ve been slacking since the third or fourth round, so you made it up with that.”

“did i?”

“you really couldn’t tell?” you ask her, tapping her cheek to cheer her up. “i could see it in your body language.”

“i know.”

“and i did challenge you to something, so i didn’t forget.”

“you also said that.”

lowering the ice pack from your forehead, you lean in for a chaste kiss. momo flings the small towel over her neck so that her hands can slide into your waist. the touch and feel of her hands all over you was comforting, eagerly like it’s the last thing she wants to lose on her mind: feeling you, tender lips, that breath caught from the bottom of your throat, hands on her neck keeping her gravity centered towards you.

momo being cool, swings the towel from her neck around to yours when you try to pull away, trying to keep her sanity in check before the booming call of lust shelters her heart for wanting, needing, satisfying. the lip lock and swipe of her tongue only makes you take into her, the downfall of that euphoric bliss flooding over you like a fucking flood, hands roaming freely over her soaked back.

she’s quick to attack your neck, inciting a soft moan–her favorite sound–from your lips before you tap her breast twice, pulling away with lidded eyes and the intertwining line of saliva now visible in the small space between heads.

“remember, free use.” you whisper, permissively, and momo is reminded of the reward she earned.

—

(look, it goes without saying: some things are quicker to come sooner than you actually realize. sure, the detailing of momo’s rough hand all over your thigh on the car ride back would be enough information with additional detail to suffice, but really - this is just the blip or flashforward in the event. besides, who really wants to speed things up in the rush of a fucked mind waiting to happen–

oh wait, that’s you.)

—

the term gentle is completely thrown out of the equation. it’s also apparent with the fact that your back hits the door leading into the shared bed of you and momo’s. arms are discarding things everywhere, you yelp into her mouth at the fact that she’s quick to rip off that large shirt in one take, pushed onto the bed while momo slips out of her leggings and shirt - she never liked the idea of wearing bras especially when it came to going out (risky, but she could care less.)

sprawled, you twitch at the reemergence of momo’s hands canvasing your body, exposed and open for her to drink in the sight.

“too stunned to speak?” you finally say, hands upheld like a model in a photoshoot, catching a glimpse of momo licking her lips ready to tear anything in it’s path. and you’d let her. take you in for something that’s cast aside and make you whole, like new. you’ve broken her down to the point where she could give you everything you wanted, and she will.

momo leans down, sinking by the feel of her lips on the little spot underneath your ear, eyes wobbling shut while you hum with a sound of satisfaction, melting into putty by the second. you know she likes this, to have control, to be in the front of this bout where she belongs because by the end of everything, you’ll be sputtering her name out like there’s no tomorrow.

“i’m gonna use you to fuck myself in every way.” she stops to say down the canal of your ear.

fuck.

“how are you gonna do that?” eyes tracking her silhouette in the darkness while your hands nestle themselves over your chest, thighs pressed together to sate the ache that’s bothering between your legs. “tell me more baby, i wanna know all of the things that you’re gonna do to me.”

“you said free use, so i’ll do anything to get myself off to you.”

“anything?”

“don’t make me repeat myself.”

fuck.

you lean back as deep as you can, momo elevates herself over your body, and your hands naturally find their way clutching her ass, dropping kisses up her inner thigh. not even letting her speak, but already ahead of the curve of what she wanted.

“you-fuck, i fucking hate-” momo snaps, trying to ignore the humming of momo’s skin laving your tongue at the moment, gripping your hair suddenly to stop you before pressing your head back into the mattress. “always having your way with things, huh?”

“got a problem?”

“this is your doing. now open.”

“mo–”

she shuts you up with the harsh grinding of her cunt at max speed, the subtle slide of her wetness soaking onto your face. she tastes good, there’s no denying that, but shit the post-workout meal and shower can wait, because this was entirely better than whatever was the initial plan before coming home.

“yeah–yeah, yeah, yeah, hng–fuck, y/n.” momo gasps out while her hips buckle from the pressure, dropping forward while your hands hook around the midpoint of her hips and legs meeting, giving you an anchor for you to pleasure her. momo looks from under, only seeing the top of your head, moving left and right repeatedly, cupping your face while you keep your head up into her cunt.

“christ baby, your fucking mouth–”

“mmmmph.” you manage to say, mouth full of pussy that grips your tongue so well. you could lose and back out now, flip her over and just fuck momo, but she knows that you’ll do the honor system justice, staying true to your word. momo’s fingers are on her clit, nearing that peak she desperately deisred, shooting up right again and forcefully fucking your face with her cunt, whining and whimpering before she clenches her legs against your head, as if it was a watermelon in between, screaming.

momo collapses behind, ass on your stomach while she tries to recover from her climax, chest heaving while lickking the slick off of your face, sucking shamelessly and the noises that momo hears coming out of your mouth are completely fucked, she’s just left staring.

there’s a pause, an intermission that only lasts for a few seconds - that fucking pit stop that sounds stupid as it is, and momo has something in her hand that sends your cunt aching again for more.

a vision–a vision out of your wildest dreams. there was only one instance of this occurring and count yourself fucking lucky, because it’s happening again.

“please,” you’re asking momo, the urgency of fulfilling your fantasies coming to life again-you’re gonna do it right? right? a break in the script to rewrite it into something new. “i know you’ve been waiting for–”

“jesus fucking christ, y/n.” momo swears, sounding helpless, but the feeling of it has never felt better. “you’ve been waiting for this to happen again, haven't you? for me to use this in your poor little pussy for my own sake. always getting what you want–”

fuck. fuck. fuck. for fuck’s sake godddamnit–shit–

“please,” you’re asking again. “free use baby, just use me. this pussy is yours to ruin.”

momo lets the urge finally take over, splitting your legs apart before diving in to get some of that craving that she’s been holding herself back for a bit, spitting on your cunt before slipping a finger in your folds. you’re squirming at your touch, mind racked with the unnecessary teasing that’s pulling on you, to get riled up before–

“you want it so bad don’t you.” the head of the silicone cock tapping along your walls, dipping an inch just for good measure, and jesus you’re already annoyed by it. “i’m gonna ram this little pussy of yours.”

she slides - all the way in. you don’t even know if this was real life or a dream.

the languid moan of being filled up to the brim, slick coating the plastic in you like it’s the one thing that only matters and for this time, it did. momo strokes out before letting the first rail back leaves you choking for a second. “my little slut enjoying this now?”

“god, momo, ma-” you barely manage, shimmying down on momo’s silicone cock, fucking yourself down the length, cunt gripping with all of its strength. momo internalizes this, testing the limits of how much your pussy could handle, but why play it safe - that’s not the whole point of getting here in the first place.

“how does my cunt feel, ma’am?” you ask, wanting everything from momo, waiting for her to give it a few blinks to settle. starting with more fewer strokes, then upping the tempo, and up, and up–

“you look amazingly pretty,” momo breathes out, coming as a growl in your ear when she lays on top of you, hips hitting that spot inside you perfectly, the sounds coming out of you for momo to hear only makes her want more. she’s going slow, deep, soft, and then–

“harder, ma’am. please. just fuck me.”

she gets you. it doesn’t take much for momo to give in, letting the strap swallow you up in the same repeated manner. the beat of momo’s heart synchronizing with yours while the slaps of skin fill up the dim room. there’s steady pace, the back and forth banter of grunts and moans leaving yours and momo’s lips.

your pupils are blown out, half smiling, half gasping, looking up with every bit of strength left to see momo turn you undone. “so–hn, fuck–yes, i can’t–keep dicking me like that.” you croon, the sharp inhale leaving your lungs as momo’s strap sinks into you again and again and again and again.

“imagine how good–” momo breathes out, “if i had a real dick, instead of a strap?” and the delirium tumbles down. “stretching you out so good–so well. my perfect slut.”

“god, momo, i–”

“you’re perfect for me. my fucking cocksleeve.”

in the name of the lord of heaven above.

“such a good girl, my good slut, god, i want to stay inside you forever.”

your eyes meet hers, smiling astonishingly beautiful while being fucked. “is this what you wanted?”

“y-y/n—”

your legs wrap around momo’s hips, keeping the pace up of her thrusting inside of you. “filling me up? the idea of cumming inside of me so badly? dumping so much to the point that you could leave a baby in me instead of this plastic strap?”

momo nods, not letting up her strokes, fucking you fast and deep, slamming like it took everything out of her. “breeding…” momo husks out, “sounds so fucking good…”

“c-close, mo. i’m shaking.”

“cum for me darling, you’ve earned it.” momo says to you, lips on yours again while she continues to fuck her strap into your tiny cunt, slowing her pace when she feels you clenching around the plastic. she’s quick to knead your breasts while you’re sobbing, savoring the feeling while the lingering orgasm leaves your hips.

momo lets out something breathy, unrestrained, relaxing when she hears the whinpers leave your lips, sliding her strap out of your well-fucked pussy. you have a sleepy smile in appreciation mixed with satisfaction when she hobbles over to your side, arms scooping you into an embracing hug while you’re leaving peppered kisses on one side of her chest.

“amazing.” you barely say, and momo just chuckles.

“we’re definitely doing this again.”

#hyunie #kpop imagines #twice imagines #momo x reader #twice x reader #hirai momo #twice momo #twice smut #momo smut #kpop smut #gg smut

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samandcolby-ownme · 2 days

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can i request a fluffy johnnie fic, just like how he would show his gf who is also a youtuber in videos! kinda like the jake fic 'as i suspected'!

thank you and i love your fics <33

Warnings: fluff, swearing, kissing

As I Suspected | Jake Webber

Enjoy!

══════════════════

You’re sat on Johnnie’s lap, facing him as his hands hold your hips and his lips are on your neck. You slide your hands up his check, resting them on the sides of his shoulders.

“Jake’s going to be here any minute.” You mumble, closing your eyes as you feel Johnnie’s hands slide up your shirt, “Mhm.” Johnnie looks up at you, his voice in a soft whisper, “You know he’s always late because he forgot something at home.”

You laugh slightly, nodding as you lean in to press your lips to his. Johnnie gives your hips a little squeeze and pulls your body closer to his. He groans lowly as you grind down onto him, lying back as he pulls you with him.

You kiss up his neck, across his jaw and up his cheeks until you finally reach his lips. He smiles and slides a hand up your back, “Are you going to behave in today’s video?”

You nod, “uh huh.” He laughs slightly, “Somehow, I don’t believe you.” You roll your eyes, smooshing your lips back onto his. You make out for another moment or two before Jake’s voice causes your body to fly off of Johnnie’s, “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

You look at Jake then Johnnie. All three of you continue to look around at each other until one of you finally breaks the silence.

“I. Fucking. Knew it.” Jake points, “You lying little sluts.” He walks in pointing between you and Johnnie, “I asked Johnnie about this, what? Last fucking month and you said no, you were just friends.” He laughs, “I was fucking right.”

“You can’t say anything, Jake.“ you look at him and he rolls his eyes, “Do I have to pinky swear?” You laugh, holding up your pink as you nod, “Yes, sir. You do.” He huffs, looking at you with a smirk as he wraps his pinky around yours.

“Great, now that that’s over. Do you want to explain now or after the video?” Jake looks between you and Johnnie and in unison, “After.”

You’ve made it half way through the stream, and so far, Jake hasn’t said a word about what he walked in on. You’re sitting in the back and Johnnie was up front with Jake.

Every now and then, Jake would glance between you and Johnnie, teasing you subtly and it drove you nuts.

“That was really sour, holy- oh fuck.” Johnnie groans, “I hate this.” Jake picks one up and plops the whole piece of candy in his mouth. Instantly groaning and looking for someplace to spit it out at.

Johnnie holds his hand out and you stare at Johnnie as you think about how you love how caring towards Jake he is - even if it’s allowing Jake to spit his slobbered up candy in his hand.

“Fuck that..” Jake gasps, “Where did you get these?” Johnnie shrugs, “I don’t know, some website.” Jake looks at Johnnie, “What the black market? Now our tongues are gonna fall off.” Jake sticks his tongue out, gripping the end of his tongue, “I need this.”

You roll your eyes and look down as Johnnie hands one back to you, “Do you want to try one?” You shake your head, “No.” Jake whips back, “Do it.” You shake your head, “No. I seen how you guys were, I’m not doing it.”

You laugh and Johnnie nods, “No I don’t blame her. If I could go back and not do this again.” He stops and laughs and Jake joins in laughing, “Nah, you’d still fucking do it, don’t lie.”

Johnnie laughs, “That’s why I stopped.” He pulls the pack up, “I think the worst thing is the shock it gives you in your jaw, like right when you taste it.”

“No dude.” Jake groans, “That shock is soo bad..” he laughs, clearly not thinking, “Almost as bad as the shock of them I walk in on y/n a-“ he stops and lifts his head, making an surprised face as he stares into the camera.

You and Johnnie’s eyes are locked on Jake and the chat is absolutely blowing up.

User 1: FINISH THE SENTENCE JAKE

User 2: when y/n and WHO WERE WHAT

User 3: NAH BABY KEEP IT GOIN

User 4: WHO AND WHO

User 5: JOHNNIE SAVE THE DAY BABY SPILL ITTTT

User 6: WHO BAGGED Y/N!?!?!?

“Yeah, Jake.” You clear your throat, tilting your head, “you wanna..mm.. you wanna finish that sentence?” You try your best not to laugh but you fail and Jake shakes his head laughing, “I said nothing.” He points to the camera, “You all are going insane.”

“The voices are getting to us all.” Johnnie chimes in quietly and you laugh, “For the record, there is nothing to tell, Jake just likes to start drama in my life when he’s bored.” You gently smack Jake on the forehead and he yells dramatically, “Ow! Fuck, oh my god!”

Johnnie reaches over and does what you did and Jake does it back to Johnnie but a little harder, causing a loud smack! to sound through the car. You gasp, immediately laughing, “Oh my god, okay. I think..” you continue to laugh, “I think we’re done with this stream for today.”

“Gotta go guys, my mom is making me get off my game to make me play outside.” Jake says looking know the camera with a sad look, “See ya in the next one.” He waves, along with you and Johnnie, and you all say a quick, “Bye!”

“It’s eating you alive, isn’t it?” Johnnie says as Jake ends the streak and Jake glares up at him, “How did you guys even..” he laughs, “No one suspected anything.”

You shrug, leaning forward, “I guess Johnnie and I are just that good.” You look over at him and he purses his lips. You lean in and press your lips to his and Jake fake gags, “Get a room, you two. Please. I already saw you do it once, I don’t need to see it again.”

You laugh, leaning back and Johnnie reaches his hand back to, lay it on your knee. You lay your hand on his, smiling as you trace his tattoos.

Jake lets out a gasp and fumbles his phone before clutching it to his chest, hand slapped on his mouth.

Johnnie looks over at Jake, “What did you do?” You lean up and Jake laughs into his hand loudly, “Uuuumm.” He drags out slowly, “I really thought I ended the stream it when we all say bye, but it must have not registered because we..” he scratches his head as he tries not to laugh, “we were still streaming.. this entire time..”

══════════════════

Hello, thank you for reading! Let me know how you liked it and as always, I love yas! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #snippet #snippets #Johnnie Guilbert #johnnie guilbert one shots #johnnie guilbert x you #Johnnie Guilbert fluff #Johnnie Guilbert fluff one shot #fluff #fluff one shots #one shot fluff #fluff one shot #fluffy one shot #fluff Johnnie Guilbert #fluff oneshot #fluffy #johnnie guilbert x reader #Johnnie Guilbert x y/n

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puck-luck · 1 day

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let it slip | trevor zegras

warnings: daddy kink. i said what i said. teasing, dirty talk, begging, embarrassment, orgasm denial to a certain extent, unprotected p in v sex, minimal choking, one sentence of overstimulation, potential use of "y/n" but i honestly forgot (i just reread this too, but i don't know if it uses y/n) pairing: trevor zegras x fem!reader summary: the one when reader accidentally calls trevor "daddy" in bed and it doesn't go to shit! wc: 861

Trevor was infuriating. You knew that before you started dating him, having known his friends for a good year before you two started going out. You’d hung out with Trevor’s group a couple of times and you knew well that he had a mouth on him. Normally, you were able to ignore his comments or use them to your advantage– but today, he was just teasing. He was running his mouth and holding you still on his cock, pulling out each time you tried to get him to move. Whether it was you grinding down, clenching, or pulling at Trevor’s shoulders and hair, it ended in the same result. He pulled out and, with an annoying smirk, waited for you to beg him to slide his cock back inside you. So really, you couldn’t help it when the word slipped out of your mouth.

“Daddy,” you complained when Trevor pulled his cock out of your pussy again. Then, when you realized what you said, you stilled. Your eyes went wide and you clamped your mouth shut, even bringing a hand up to cover your lips.

Trevor raised his eyebrows in surprise for just a second before smoothing his expression. “Is that how you want this to be?” He asked, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds. When you kept your mouth shut, still reeling from your inadvertent admission, Trevor shifted his hips forward and pressed into you, barely. “Baby,” he said quietly. “Say that again.”

You let out a whimper and shook your head, embarrassed that you had revealed this to him in the middle of sex and not in a better moment, where you could explain yourself. You could feel your cheeks burning with redness. “Trevor,” you said instead, and cringed at the way your voice broke.

Slowly, Trevor shook his head. “No,” he drawled. “No, baby, call me what you want to call me.” He begins to rock forward, slow and calculated, making sure you feel every inch of him. He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs circles on it at the same pace, staring as you close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Come on, sweet girl. It’s okay. Let me be your daddy. Let me make you feel good. Let go.”

You cry out as he starts to snap his hips in a more brutal pace. He’s still staring, taking in every single minute change in your expression. He’s good with his cock and good with his fingers and he’s great with his words, and he knows that he just can’t let you come until you call him ‘daddy’ again. He lets your release build until he knows you’re about to snap and he stops, buried completely inside you.

“You want to come, babydoll?” Trevor asks, wiping the tear from the side of your eye that leaked out when he stopped moving.

“Please,” you plead. “Please, Trevor.”

He makes a disapproving noise and begins to pull out of you, but it’s unbearable. You lock your ankles at the small of his back and hug tightly around his neck and he lets you immobilize him. He could break free of you in an instant with that hockey strength he has, but he’s waiting for you to say the word that’s on the tip of your tongue with baited breath.

“Daddy,” you finally breathe out. “Please, make me come. I’m so close, please don’t take it away, I’ll do whatever you want.”

He snaps his hips forward and resumes fucking you like his life depends on it, reaching one of his hands up to your throat and resting it there. “Keep calling me that,” he tells you. “And I’ll let you come.”

You nearly shriek when he presses down on your throat. Every sense is heightened when he chokes you and his cock presses into you so, so deep with every thrust. You’re babbling, calling him by his new title practically every other word as the pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach.

Trevor presses his forehead against yours. You can feel his breath on your face and his nose nudging yours with each thrust. “Come for daddy, baby. Show me how good you feel.”

As soon as you let go, you can feel him letting go as well. He spills inside of you with a deep groan, burying his face in the side of your neck. You reach down between your bodies and feel the way he continues to slide in and out of you through his aftershocks. His come is leaking out of you with each pass of his hips and he just continues to fuck it back in. He doesn’t even pull out, just maneuvers so you’re laying on top of him on the bed.

“Daddy, huh?” Trevor asks quietly. “I like that.”

You bury your head in his neck this time, blushing and hiding. “‘S embarrassing.”

“Mm, I disagree,” Trevor hums. He slides a finger over your clit and you clench down on him due to the overstimulation. “That one little word has got you this worked up and makes me want to stay inside you all night long.”

notes: finally, my darkest (not dark at all because i'm very comfortable with it) secret has been revealed! yes, readers, i've been a fan of the daddy kink all along. and you know who's daddy as fuck? TREVOR ZEGRAS. not much else to say. hoping everyone enjoyed. definitely nsfw. ....will be including the daddy kink in my works as often as i find necessary. maybe i can pavlov y'all into enjoying it too... hmm...

#puck-luck's fics #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras smut #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #andy writes anything🍄

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uselesslexbian · 18 hours

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the tortured poets department sentence starters.

i was supposed to be sent away, but they forgot to come and get me.

i love you, it's ruining my life.

my husband is cheating. i wanna kill him.

thought of calling you, but you won't pick up.

who's gonna hold you like me?

who's gonna know you, if not me?

sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me.

everyone we know understands why it's meant to be. 'cause we're crazy.

who else is gonna know me?

i should've known it was a matter of time.

we could've played for keeps this time.

once i fix me, he's gonna miss me.

he told me i'm better off, but i'm not.

fuck it if i can't have him.

i might just die, it would make no difference.

fuck it if i can't have us.

'cause fuck it, i was in love.

i stopped trying to make him laugh.

how much sad did you think i had in me?

you say i abandoned the ship, but i was going down with it.

just how low did you think i'd go before i'd self-implode?

you swore you love me, but where were the clues?

i'm just mad as hell 'cause i loved this place.

i forget if this was ever fun.

no, i'm not coming to my sense.

i know he's crazy, but he's the one i want.

i'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning.

i'll tell you something about my good name - it's mine alone to disgrace.

you ain't gotta pray for me.

no, you can't come to the wedding.

it's gonna be alright, i did my time.

i will never lose my baby again.

ain't no way i'm gonna screw up now that i know what's at stake.

they said i was a cheat. i guess it must be true.

yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine.

tell me i'm dispicable, say it's unforgivable.

am i allowed to cry?

i keep recalling things we never did.

someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts.

if it's make-believe, why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

they're gonna crucify me anyway.

what if the way you hold me is actually what's holy?

you don't get to tell me about "sad."

if you wanted me dead, you should've just said.

who's afraid of little old me?

at all costs, keep your good name.

you don't get to tell me you feel bad.

so tell me everything is not about me, but what if it is?

say they didn't do it to hurt me, but what if they did?

i'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all said?

i'm fearsome, and i'm wretched, and i'm wrong.

you caged me, and then you called me crazy.

i am what i am 'cause you trained me.

i can fix him. no really, i can.

come close, i'll show you heaven.

trust me, i can handle me a dangerous man.

you said i'm the love of your life.

well, you took me to hell, too.

what we thought was for all time was momentary.

are they second-hand embarrassed that i can't get out of bed 'cause something counterfeit's dead?

you're the loss of my life.

i can handle my shit.

he said he'd love me all his life, but that life was too short.

i can do it with a broken heart.

i'm so obsessed with him, but he avoids me like the plague.

i cry a lot, but i am so productive. it's an art.

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart.

i'm sure i can pass this test.

they said, "babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and i did.

'cause i'm miserable! and nobody even knows!

was any of it true?

who the fuck was that guy?

they just ghosted you. now you know what it feels like.

i don't even want you back.

you didn't measure up in any measure of a man.

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead?

'cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden.

i would've died for your sins. instead i just died inside.

i'll forget you, but i'll never forgive.

i haven't come around in so long, but i'm making a comeback to where i belong.

this town is fake, but you're the real thing.

the crown is stained, but you're the real queen.

you're the new god we're worshipping.

it's hell on earth to be heavenly.

#rp ask meme #ask meme #rp prompts #rp starters #rp meme #lyric starters #lyric memes #idk what else #if there's typos no there's not

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sterekchub · 1 day

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Derek gets into craft beer brewing to make werewolf friendly beers. Along the way he develops a beer belly…which only blossoms further the more into it he gets. Eventually he has a werewolf brewing company where his employees all refer to him as “the tank” based on his size.

Derek with a beer belly is...my EVERYTHING. He has to eventually open his own company because Stiles makes a few too many jokes about Derek and how he's becoming a personal beer keg and forgot a beer warehouse- Derek's gut is getting big enough to be a storage tank! Derek in tight jeans and a company T-shirt, love handles poking out the top, belly peeking out of the bottom of his shirt, and jeans so tightly stretched across his ass they're starting to look transparent. He's usually too busy at work to eat so he does a lot of "liquid lunches" but when he does go to company BBQs or has a taco truck come to the brewery (or when he finally goes on a date with Stiles)- it's obvious all that beer drinking has stretched out his stomach capacity and given him a BIG appetite. Most of the time- Derek is casually sipping the wolfsbane free beers to do quality and flavor control to avoid getting drunk. But on more than one occasion Stiles has run into a slightly tipsy Derek, hiccupping and burping and a little less aware of personal space. There's been a few times Stiles has been wedged against a doorway by Derek's bulk, or watched as Derek leans too heavily against a table and lets out a surprised belch as his belly spreads out against the surface. Derek who is a little grumpy and socially awkward so he empties at least a keg or two at the company Christmas party before he can get the courage to ask out Stiles... Ends up so filled with beer, Stiles swears he can hear it sloshing in Derek's stretched gut, his belly wobbling and slightly swaying back and forth with each unsteady step. AND on the subject of Derek "The tank" - the specific stages of Derek swelling with beer. 1. The "I'm not going to drink too much." He tells Stiles not to be ridiculous, he is having a beer or two because it's his job. Nothing more, they don't need a repeat of last week. 2. "Bloated and tipsy" is next. Derek hasn't been skinny enough to actually look bloated, but he reaches a point of "full" and his stomach is gurgling and stretching more with bubbles and the sloshing, carb- heavy weight building and building. It's really the stage MOST coworkers find him in, the middle of his day, happily chugging beer while he's sitting at his computer, one hand occasionally stifling burps as he barks out orders. 3. "Overloaded" comes next, when Derek is relaxed enough to not feel on edge around his coworkers, when he's laughing and joking like he's friends and not just the boss. He gets physical and affectionate with Stiles, will jokingly use his bulk to pin him against the wall (or occasionally go through with his threats to sit on him, which resulted in at least 2 broken chairs). Starts getting the lumbering waddle to his walk, like he's got a water-filled balloon attached to his middle, ready to burst. 4. The final stage is the "Team effort to fill the tank" when Derek is so full - he can't even find the energy to speak in full sentences. Mostly belches out "hic one buaaaaaarp more!" or "I got uaaaarp room for another bwarrrrp one!" It's become a workplace competition to bet how many more beers they can pour down Derek's throat. How wide Derek's gut will have swollen by the end of it.

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h50europe · 1 day

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BUDDIE - I Could Start Fires With What I Feel For You - Chapter 5 is now on AO3

Excerpt:

Buck frowned, "Where you're heading?"

"I forgot to tell you, sorry." Christopher said innocently. "I'm staying at Carla's. We're going to have a nice movie night."

Carla grinned when she saw the surprise on Buck's face, "Don't look so stunned. I'm sure you and Eddie have a lot to talk about."

"I love you, Buck," Christopher said as he stood up, hugged him, and walked over to Carla.

Carla would have loved to take a picture of Buck's face. The look was priceless. A short time later, the door closed, and the two men were alone.

Buck entered the living room just as Eddie came out of the kitchen with two bottles of beer. Buck hooked his thumb over his shoulder and said, "Was this some kind of set up?"

Eddie shrugged, "I swear I wasn't involved in the planning."

"You were," Buck grinned. Eddie handed him one of the bottles. They toasted each other and took a sip.

Eddie shook his head, "No, really. I swear I had no idea." Then they sat down—Buck on the couch, Eddie across from him.

"So how was studying with Christopher?" Eddie asked.

"I don't know why he wanted me to study with him. He completed all the exercises perfectly."

"I think he missed you." Eddie left the sentence as it was.

Buck nodded, "Yeah, I know. He told me. I wonder, though... Did anyone else miss me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing, forget it."

#911 on abc #911 abc #911 on fox #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #evan buckey x eddie diaz #buck x eddie #buddie #oliver stark #tommy kinard #lou ferrigno jr #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #buddie fanfic #buddie fanart

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cibeeorsomeshit · 3 days

Text

Stolitz Week 2024

A/N: Continuation from the day one prompt, but probably can be read as a standalone as well.

Day Two: Hurt/Comfort; Chocolate/Candy (ao3)

Blitzø had never been able to tolerate sweets. Fizz would often find pockets of time between practices and performances to visit the cotton candy machine and joke with whoever was in charge of it, hoping they would give him a sweet cloud. Barbie would pick up any candies dropped around the circus ground by visitors and hid them in her dress. Mom only ate sweet pastries for breakfast, and Blitzø remembered how she always ended her night with a hot cup of cinnamon and brown sugar milk, the heat and smell of it so vivid even now Blitzø reacted to the spice like someone cutting onions.

Give him hard liquor. Bitter coffee with only ice cubes to soften it. Once at a club a guy bought him a fruity cocktail thinking that would lead to his cock getting inside of Blitzø. Blitzø drank it, because booze was booze, but he definitely didn’t let the guy anywhere near his hole.

And yet here he was, three a.m., with Stolas at an all night joint that only served coffee and some sort of goop that could either be scramble eggs or a really unfortunate looking donut. Blitzø had texted him in a moment of feverish vulnerability and immediately wanted to delete the message, but Stolas, as usual, read his text right away.

The little speech bubble was so hypnotizing that Blitzø nearly went cross-eyed at how hard he was staring at it. He was expecting a polite refusal, or maybe some sort of confused inquiry of why he would join Blitzø when the last time they saw each other Blitzø broke his end of the deal by sleeping in Stolas’ bed without dicking him down first.

But Stolas only asked where to meet Blitzø. Blitzø chose a place out in the edge of Imp City where not even the homeless went because even they weren’t this sad with their lives. He had thought that would change Stolas’ mind, but again, Stolas simply replied he would be there in ten.

And there he was, not even ten minutes later, in all his royal glory (wearing a simple sweater and pants yet still somehow looked more put-together than Blitzø in his best suit ever was). The server working behind the counter went from dozing to full-alert real quick, stammering something that might be construed (a word he learned from Moxxie) as a formal greeting. Stolas nodded absentmindedly at him, his eyes already on Blitzø, feathers fluffing out in pleasure as he walked over and sat down.

Blitzø had to force a giant gulp of scalding coffee down his throat to mask — whatever was going on on his face.

“I thought you hated hot coffee,” Stolas asked. He was moving around in the seat to find a position that could fit his long limbs without jostling Blitzø under the table. Blitzø extended his leg and gently bumped his boot into Stolas. Stolas smiled, and wordlessly let his legs stretch comfortably under the table, tangling with Blitzø’s swinging legs.

“They didn’t have —” before Blitzø could finish his sentence, the server hastily presented a glass of ice cubes to him. Blitzø gave him a dirty look but didn’t say anything. He bet the guy would cook up something that wasn’t even in their kitchen if Stolas wanted.

Stolas just asked for coffee and whatever they were serving that night. When the food came Stolas poked at it gingerly with a straw and left it be.

Blitzø waited for the questions. When should they make up for the last full moon? Did Blitzø bring the book with him today, since last time Blitzø was so out of it he forgot? Did he not know how super-duper-fucking-trouper important that book was for his duties? Why did Blitzø leave before Stolas woke up when he hadn’t done that in so long?

The self-induced stress was enough to make Blitzø dig out his crumbled pack of cigarettes. Stolas wasn’t even talking, he was just humming some tune to himself, not chattering away for once. Maybe it was the night. Maybe it was the unusual invitation. Maybe Stolas just knew him better than Blitzø thought and could tell he wasn’t in the mood for talking.

Blitzø lit a cigarette and took a deep, long drag. He could feel Stolas looking at him, heavy and heady and with the faint waft burning parchment papers. He thought everyone felt it wherever Stolas turned his gaze onto them, but Moxxie called him crazy. Millie just smiled with all her teeth, and Loona said they both smelled gross when they looked at each other.

Stolas’ coffee hadn’t arrived yet, probably because the guy was making it with french press or some fancy shit instead of pouring days-old coffee from their rusty pot, so Blitzø offered his own coffee, which Stolas refused, and a cigarette, which Stolas gladly accepted. The table didn’t have an ashtray so they put it out on the scramble-egg-donut until it was a spiky scramble-egg-donut. All the while they didn’t say a word. Stolas looked completely at ease and Blitzø couldn’t help his tail that wrapped around Stolas’ legs under the table.

Finally Stolas’ coffee arrived. It smelled like actual coffee and not the brown water in Blitzø’s mug, though Stolas ruined it immediately by pouring five packs of sugar in it and stirring it daintily with a finger.

“How do you even drink that?” Those were the first words uttered in nearly twenty minutes, and his voice was rough from the smoking. Stolas took a sip, hooting softly and happily.

“I like it sweet,” Stolas said simply. “I would order a mocha but I doubt they have it.” And he laughed at Blitzø’s expression, pushing his mug toward Blitzø. “Have a try.”

“Fuck no.”

“Come on!”

“I rather drink piss.”

Stolas huffed and took his mug back. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Ha!” Blitzø croaked. “You’re calling me dramatic?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t, did I?”

Blitzø lit another cigarette. The fluorescent strip lights over them flickered every now and then, crackling like dying insects. The only other sounds were the exhale of smoke between them. The server had disappeared at some point. The streets outside were dark and silent, the twisting and tittering buildings so dense that the shine of the red sky was unable to peek through.

“Do you want the book back?” Blitzø finally asked, accompanied by a large puff of smoke.

Stolas blinked at him with all four eyes. “What makes you think so?”

“Because we didn’t — last time. I didn’t —” Blitzø retracted his tail and wrapped it around himself instead. “I broke the deal.”

“Oh, darling.” Stolas leaned forward and took away his cigarette, stubbing it out with a pinch. “Do you think I was upset? Do you think I’m upset?”

“I mean.” Blitzø couldn’t understand Stolas’ reaction. “Yes?”

“Seeing you on the full moon hasn’t been about the book in a long time.” Stolas traced the white scars on Blitzø’s hand, and clarified as an afterthought, “For me.”

“So you don’t want to continue this squid pro quote shit anymore?”

Stolas leaned his cheek in his palm and smiled adoringly at Blitzø. “I’m assuming you mean quid pro quo?”

“Whatever. That.”

“Hm, I think I would rather we switch to more of an omnia tibi situation.”

“I don’t know what the fuck that means.”

“It means I will give you everything you want.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Any normal being would have looked like shit under fluorescent lights. Blitzø was pretty sure his dark circles were on full blast in this light, but Stolas’ heart-shaped face glowed. “Blitzø,” Stolas started to say. The hand he was leaning on squished his face a bit, endearing in a mystifying way. “Why do you think I’m here right now? It certainly isn’t for the coffee.”

That was a confrontation he was avoiding since he texted Stolas earlier.

“I have a sneaking feeling you think I wouldn’t choose to be with you just to be with you.” Stolas finished his coffee. “You can have the book whenever you need with no strings attached, no something for something, because I like you.”

Blitzø’s heart was doing some freaky twitching he wasn’t used to. “You like me.”

Stolas almost seemed offended by Blitzø’s deadpan response. “Well, it’s not very hard to like you, is it? I like your company. I like your cute face. I like your humor. I like your taste in clothing — there’s just a lot to like! And whatever part of you that you seemed to view as intolerable matters very little to me compared to how much I like you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Blitzø stood up in his seat. “You have crap taste. You drink coffee with sugar.”

“I’ve been told I’m very smart.” Stolas leaned back in his seat. “And if you give it a try, you might like it as well.”

“And if I don’t?” Blitzø rested a knee on the table.

“Then I will simply have to accept that.” Stolas smiled like he was falling. And Blitzø was falling too. Forward. Downward. But mostly forward.

Stolas’ long limbs wrapped around Blitzø like it went on forever. Blitzø’s tail wrapped around them and they were so close. In this shitty all-nighter joint with squeaky chairs and bad coffee that should make anyone want to kill themselves for choosing to spend their night here, but Stolas was here and he caught Blitzø in his arms. Blitzø was here and he decided to fall forward.

It was pretty fucking scary. It was also pretty fucking sweet.

(Day One) ← →(Day Three)

#stolitz #stolas x blitz #stolas #blitz #blitzo #blitzø #helluva boss #my writing

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