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#it feels kinda mmmm what's the word
entirelytoooobsessed · 2 months
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needy!drunk!gojo satoru x gn reader-based off this post
synopsis: gojo is a lightweight, vowed to sobriety to keep whatever bit of shame he has left to his name. but he really can't help but take a few shots when he sees you doing the same.
warnings: sub gojo, gn dom reader, both reader and gojo are drunk, gojo's a lightweight, handjob, semi-public sex, he cries-like a lot, he also had nipple piercings bc i couldn't help myself, reader's kinda a hoe, feelings, think that's it
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The warm press of hands against your hips is what makes you gasp. The soft touch of lips traced over your throat is what makes your head spin.
What a delightful feeling. 
What a human desire. 
“Touch me.” 
The room spins around you, the warm feeling of being held making you sigh, leaning into it. The scent of him, the greedy claiming of his presence in your mind. So selfish. Of him not to think of the effect that this has on you. To not care about the war going on in your mind. 
“Touch me, please?” A whine this time. A meek sound, spilling from his lips, making your body light up in return. 
“Satoru,” He practically purrs at his name on your lips. Pathetic. How easily riled up he is. How easily you’re able to make his knees feel weak. How much he loves the sound of your lips forming his name.
“Mmmm, say it again.”His nose sweeps delicately over your neck, working over a heavy sigh as he tries not to get drunk on the smell of your shampoo. Or more drunk than he already is, that is. 
“Your name?” You mutter slowly. 
“Yeah….” His words have been gradually slurring over the span of the night, with the amount of shots he’s taken, with the amount of drinks he’s had. With the inches of space between you closing until there’s nothing between you but the thin layer of clothing that does nothing to hide the bulge he shamelessly presses against you.
Even so, you know that he's always been far beyond measures of shame, but this is a whole new level, the way he continues to press his body impossibly closer to yours, his broad chest against your shoulders, his hips canting against you. 
You’ve always hated how he’s been taller than you, his incessant teasing when he throws you over his shoulder as you yell and pound on his back. He takes advantage of it all too often.
You don’t mind now.
“Why, Satoru?” Maybe you’re cruel for the teasing, for liking your friend’s reactions all too much. Shivering, nearly violently, throbbing against your lower back. 
He whines, “Sounds so…-so much better when you say it. Makes me wanna just…”
His breath is heavy with the scent of alcohol and you’re still not entirely sure how Shoko and Suguru managed to get him to break his vow of sobriety. Not when you’d seen him turning them down for the first bit of the night.
The next time you saw him he was getting dragged along by you, gulping down whatever liquids you shoved into his hands. 
With his feverish hands tracing up your body and his sinful hips pressing against yours. Muttering about how he wanted you and needed you, whispering about things he'd never have said in the harsh reality of day, but was that not the beauty of getting intoxicated beyond belief?
“Hmm? Just what?” 
He simpers, “Wan’ you to touch me, play with me, like I’m just a toy for you~” He grinds slowly and you wish you could kiss him. Kiss him until he’s breathless and red and can’t remember his own name. Dazed and dizzy and muttering gibberish while loosely gripping onto you. 
You don’t think if you’d even have to kiss him to do that right now, but the taste of his perfectly pink lips would just be an added pleasure to this delectable mix.
But you shouldn’t. And you won’t.
Not because he’s your friend and this will surely be crossing some unspoken line.
Or because it’ll throw off the axis of your entire friend group. You'd never let that stop you before. And you wouldn’t let something like that stop you now. Not when you've clumsily pressed your lips to Shoko’s, high out of your mind and hidden under the blanket of dark nights. Or when you let your hands wander along the lengths of Suguru’s skin, promising to make him feel things he’d never felt before. 
Not because Satoru Gojo is one of your best friends.
But because Satoru Gojo is currently drunk and so are you. And despite the fact that you’re practically drowning in the warmth of alcohol and all that is Satoru Gojo, you want whatever you do with him to mean something-be something. Not just a clumsy night of drunken mistakes and hazy flashes, not something you’ll forget in the morning and agree to never speak of again.
He’s too…important for you to treat him like that. And you’re too selfish to let anything you do to him to mean anything but the fact that he would be yours. But he’s not yours. And you’re not his. And all this thinking is only making a steady ache build behind your temples.
You sigh, twisting around in his arms. Blue eyes blinking back at you, slowly searching over yours and fuck, his lips are so kissable. Pink and plump, trapped between his too white teeth.
“Let’s get you back to Shoko and Suguru, they’ll take you home and make sure you don’t kill yourself.” You’re not entirely sure where they went or why they’ve left the two of you behind, all alone where they'd know neither of you were in the right mind to make good choices.
 “No,” He shakes his head, white hair tossing, ruffled and mussed from a night of clinging to you like this. Far too close for comfort though you still couldn’t bring yourself to pry him off.  “No, n-no, don’t wan’you  to leave…” 
You begin to tug him off either way. He’s not sane enough to make decisions for himself and you don’t think you are either. “C’mon baby, let’s go find your friends.”
He shudders and grips your hand, refusing to move an inch. Tears pool in his eyes and your jaw hardens.
You sigh. You didn’t know why you thought this was a fight you’d win either way. It was a losing game trying to argue with Satoru. His lips wobble and you can feel your resolve withering away by the second. Tearing down every single defence you put up around, being ripped away by him and his stupid tears as if they were paper. 
“Don’t leave.” He whispers and he looks pathetic but you know you’ll give in to him if he asks you to. “Don’t leave me…please.”
You cup his cheek and he purrs, melting into the touch as if he were a cat, pushing into you for more attention. Basking in your attention as you sweep his tears away with your thumb, letting him close his eyes and pull you into the soft cushioning of a booth. 
You feel heady or maybe it’s the alcohol talking. More tears roll down his cheeks, tracking along the slopes of his flushed face. Crystalline and sacred and you realize with a twist in the pit of your stomach that it’s arousing.
The sight of him. His sweat-soaked skin and his eyes big and glassy. And the fragile mask he’s worked so hard to keep up deteriorating beneath your very eyes, each tear breaking and cracking apart the image of the powerful man he claims to be.
A crumpled facade of a God into a something more, something divine and corrupt, something vulnerable and weak and so very human in your arms, falling apart by a mere touch.
Maybe you’re more fucked up than you realized. Maybe you’re just horny. Maybe because it’s him. And he’s Satoru Gojo and everything about him is perfect. Powerful. Transcendent. A God against humans, finally falling apart like this, before you, ready to fall to his knees. Perhaps he was always meant to.
“Don’t wanna be alone…don’t wanna…ngh~” 
His hips thrust up, a whiny gasp working past his lips. He pants as if he’s run a marathon and you want to do such delectably sinful things to him and you’re sure you could do them all and more and he’d only beg and plead for more.
Perhaps…
“Kiss me.”
Your heart thuds in your chest, you wonder if he can hear with how loud it is. “Satoru,”
He whines and grinds and you moan. And it’s a losing battle.
“Shut up,” he insists, hand cupping the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair, almost obsessively. “Shut up and just kiss me.”
“You know we can’t. You-“
“I, am perfectly fine.” His words are a pant, a plea, whispered with a kind of reverence of a worshipper to a god. “Just kiss me, fuck me. Use me,” white eyelashes flutter, blue looking all the bluer rimmed with red and filled with tears. “Use me until you’re bored of me, until there’s nothing left-i don’t care.” He breathes, desperate and pleading and looking like he’s ready to get down on his damn knees on the dirty sticky floor. “Just-please.”
A losing fucking battle. 
Maybe it always was. Trying to keep your hands off him, now, you realized it was like setting a treat on a dogs nose and telling them to wait. A crazy amount self control with the eventual prize just in sight. 
All you can think as you cup his cheeks, flushed and wet from tears, warm against your hands is how fucking pretty he is. How you want him more than you think you’ve ever wanted anything. “Fuck, Satoru,” you mutter and he moans deep and appreciatively and then you’re pulling him in to slide your lips against his.
 And now all you can think about is how much of a dumbass you are for not doing this sooner.
He tastes like alcohol and cigarettes-when he had one you don’t know but you do know that it’s the most intoxicating mix you’ve ever encountered. You feel like you’re floating, high off his taste and his moans; like he’s a drug and you’re the addict, injecting him straight into the vein. 
It's far from elegant and he’s not perfect at it in the way you’d expect from a man as beautiful as him-godhood hasn’t blessed him in every aspect. But he’s desperate and he's eager to take everything you give, mewling against your lips. 
He’s so needy and it's crazy the way it sends you into a sort of reverie. His hands gripping your hips hard, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go, like he’s hoping you’re real and not a apparition of drunken hysteria. He pulls you closer, as if you could get close enough that no one could find where you ended and he started, that you might be able to meld into one.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same sentiment. If you didn’t try your hardest to do the exact same; nails pressing into his skin, making him whine as you tilted his head back and slipped your tongue into his mouth, exploring, feeling, taking, using. 
Just like he told you to do.
He vibrates against you, nearly shaking with choked noises. He mutters soundless words, each and every one swallowed by you as soon as they’re spoken. Pleas and prayers, worships and praises. 
You’d show him what real ascension felt like.
You probably should be embarrassed, or at the very least shameful to be putting on such a show in front of what you know are watching eyes. But you know that Gojo is far past shame at this point and you're too enamoured by the beauty that is Satoru Gojo clinging to you like he’s about to break.
To be honest, you can't find it in yourself to give a shit about any of them. About anything but him, focusing your attention on devouring him whole as he shatters, ready to catch every piece as they fall into your waiting hands. No matter if the shards rip apart your skin and leave you a bloody mangled mess.
You break away first, fighting a smile at his whine as you pull away from him, panting. 
He looks unravelled, messy. His usual flirty facade lost to pleasure. His watery eyes and heartbroken whines gone as well. Overwhelmed by swollen lips and gasps to make up for lost air. A blush like he’s just realized where he is, burying his face into your neck to hide from the probing eyes. To whisper, "You're too good at that, you know?.”
You bark a laugh and he nuzzles into your skin. 
And then you’re redirecting him to your lips again.
In a flurry of hands and lips, messy steps and you’re clumsily stumbling into the bathroom. Quickly, Satoru is shoved against the door, fingers fumbling for the lock.
Your lips find his neck, fluttering a barrage of open-mouthed kisses over the heated skin, dragging your tongue along his thrumming heartbeat. 
He whines and he begs, muttering nonsense that makes it to your ears but not to your head as you hum against him. Slender fingers knit through your hair, holding you close to him, pleading for you to never leave him.
“Touch me, touch me, touch me.” He repeats, slurred and slow, his eyes drooped shut, his voice husky with want, with lust and everything he’s been just barely repressing all this time.
But you've only ever been a slave to his desires.
So you respond in tenfold, nipping and sucking, leaving evidence that you've been here, staking a claim that doesn't exist and maybe never will but for tonight maybe you can play pretend.
Because he keens when your teeth sink into his skin and his back arches, pressing evidence of his wanton yearnings against you like you might devour him whole.
Like he wants you to.
He quieter when he whispers something that could change everything. “Love me?”
Your heart pounds in your chest but you’d never turn him down. 
Fingers deftly undo the buttons on his tight-fitting button up, revealing porcelain-like skin underneath. His nipples are hard and pink and fucking pierced. 
He gasps when you touch them, pinching them between your thumb and forefinger.
And you've never been particularly mean but you can make an exception for the God in front of you, leaving him to tortuous touches all while he throbs and thrusts into nothing but the fabric of his too-tight pants, whining from the stimulation that's all too little.
He's been begging for this all night. Whispering dirty words like a little tease, like a shameless slut.
He got you all riled up and for that you think that he should take his own share of teasing.
For retribution, for your own piece of mind and the pleasure it is to watch him squirm against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and tearstained and begging in small breathless whimpers barely over a whisper.
But you've never been able to resist him long, not then, not now and not ever.
Your hand finally reaches for his waistband, his body shivering with the feeling of your fingers dipping onto hot, untouched skin.
But he stops you.
His hand, large and pale landing over your own in a quick moment of lucidity.
His voice emerged, a whisper of uncertainty and longing. "Y-You'll take care of me?"
You met his vulnerability with a promise because you could never leave him with any less. "Yes," your words a whispered caress, a undying oath in itself, a vow that you'd take beyond this in whatever may happen.
Your lips brush over his ear, his eyes squeezing shut as your hand wraps around him, dragging a ruinous moan from deep in his throat.
"I promise, I will."
And your hand is wrapping around him, hot and wet and hard, all for you. Just for you. And his head is turned off, just sensations and feeling and you.
Just you.
"F-fuck, yes, please," so broken, fragile almost as ironic as it is. "Yes, pl-please, feels so go-good."
He doesn't last long and you don't know if it's from all the teasing you've administered or from how long he's been worked up for.
But you rather like the thought of him being sensitive enough that your voice and a few strokes is enough to bring him to the edge.
To have him pulsing in your hand while his arms wrap around your shoulders, blunt nails scraping into you skin as his hips thrust with reckless abandon.
His body quivering with pleasure as your hand forms a loose hole for him to fuck into, your thumb playing with the sensitive head of his dick.
"Please, please I need it, need it so bad," And he has no right sounding this good, looking this good while fucking into your hand like a goddamn dog. "Need it more than anything."
He always has been one for dramatics.
His head falls back against the wall, throat bobbing with the moan deep in his throat, fuck how the marks of your teeth stand out on the pale skin of his neck. Your lips permanent on his body for now, forever maybe if he'll let you keep replacing them.
"Fuck, Satoru," You free hand threads through his head, pushing his lips to meet yours, messy and slopping as he arches against you, hips thrusting erratically to match your pace. Keening when you nip at him, teeth tugging at his bottom lip, nails scratching at his scalp sending tingles down every part of his body.
He breaks away with a gasp and a cry when and only when he absolutely has to, eyes shining and chest heaving with breaths to fill his burning lungs.
And he's crying. And he's beautiful.
More beautiful than anyone or anything you've ever seen in your life.
"Shit, I'm close, m' so fuckin' close-!"
You’re half out of your mind and you couldn’t feel more sane. Like this was meant to happen-like he was meant to be yours. 
"Don' stop, please don't stop," he gasps, like you'd ever think about it, like you'd could even if you wanted to.
“Satoru,” And he shakes.
“Satoru,” And he sobs.
“Satoru,” And he breaks, head falling back as if in prayer, a finger pushing his chin up, clashing against a higher power he didn't think possible.
“My one and only Satoru.” Soft and sweet and just for him and only him. And he’s gone.
Ropes of cum spurt out, rope after rope, covering your hand and the floor. Covering his thighs and his stomach in a mess.
Everything feels fuzzy and his cheeks are pink. A stupid grin crossing his face as he melts, boneless in your arms. "I love you." He mutters, distantly, foggily.
Perhaps somewhere beneath the haze he thinks that maybe you've said the same back. But he isn't quite sure anymore. He needs to be sure.
Slowly, he's lowered onto the floor into a sitting position. The tile is cold against his bare skin but it's okay because you're still caressing him, holding his face in your hand, thumb wiping at his tears.
"You love me right?"
You leave for moment and a whines at the loss of you pressed against him. Even if it's only for a few seconds he feels lonely and empty without your touch.
But then you're back and you're wiping him down with a wet towel, cleaning off his skin so gently, as if he's made of glass of porcelain, like he something to be cherished and taken care of.
"Hey pretty boy, you good?" He recognizes your voice even throughout the cloud in his mind. He nods and you smile and he's melting all over again.
"Do you love me?"
You roll your eyes and for an awful second he thinks that maybe you're going to say no. But then you're pushing the hair off his forehead and kissing him so fucking gently he thinks he'll cry.
"I do love you Satoru."
And his heart is bursting-he swears it is, it's beating so fast and so hard he's absolutely sure that you can hear it and that the quiet laughs escaping your pretty lips is because you can tell how dumbly in love with you he is.
But that doesn't matter.
Because right now he's normal person and you're a normal person and nothing else will matter but the fact that he's your's now.
"I love you too, y'know?" He mumbles.
You kiss him again, and again, and again. On his forehead and his temples, his cheeks and the tip of his nose and each of his eyelids. You kiss everywhere on his face until his lips are pouted out and he lets out a little whine of frustration.
And then you kiss his lips. Barely a peck, too fast and short for his taste but he doesn't have time to complain as you pull him off the floor.
“C’mon pretty boy, let me bring you home.”
“Mmm,” He doesn’t move, boneless against you. “Will you fuck me again?”
You laugh, soft. “Like I’d be able to resist you.”
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Daddy's home🗣 | Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader
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Warnings: just shameless smut, porn no plot, submissive reader, dom gojo, fingering,creampie, oral(f&mrecieving), deepthroat, facefucking, throatfucking, some degradation kinda, praise, HEAVY BREEDING KINKK
(A/n): this does not have a daddy kink sorry if thats disappointing lol i'm not comfy with that but I'm sure yk why it's named that🖤
"Hnnn~ T-toru, have I ever mentioned how... how long your fingers are?" You questioned, whining loudly despite yourself. He just chuckled in response and placed a hot kiss on your lips, tongue immediately darting for yours in a few wet sloppy mess. You practically mewled into him, pressing your core flush with his palm as his long, thin pretty finger reached places you hadn't known were there and it had you seeing stars.
"Ya feel how wet you are just from my fingers, mmmm sweetheart?" He aaked mockingly, smirking into your eyes with his pure blue eye gazing into you. You felt the urge to sink into him and never leave, his cock buried in you pumping you full of his hot steamy cum, load after load after load, no doubt knocking you up. You didn't mind the thought of that however, a family, with this gorgeous man you desperately wanted to be bred by. "I can tell what you're thinking of you little slut, and I like it, but thats for later, don't worry I'll pump you full of my babies sweetheart."
You whimpered at his words but nodded, whining as he pumped his fingers harder into you, before suddenly taking them out, leaving you empty. You whine at the loss, wanting to feel full.
He, however, surprises you, by placing his mouth on your folds, tongue diving through, licking all-over. He applied suction to your clit, finally wrapping his tongue around the little nub and rubbing, hard. You squealed with pleasure, immediately feeling that knot in your stomach preparing to unravel, though the pleasure was so intense and overwhelming, a pressure began to form as you finally reached climax on the white-haired sorcerer's long skilled tongue, squirting all over his face.
He groaned in satisfaction at having made you squirt, he grins, a cocky look on his face. "You taste so sweet, so wet and slutty, but sweet. I'll need you for my desert from now on, eh?" You whine, nodding in agreement, loving the idea of him devouring you once more. "Now, get on your knees."
You oblige, no question, immediately opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out, knowing he wanted to shove his cock down your tight throat. "Good girl, take it just like you always do." His cock slips past your lips, he immediately forces his hands through your hair and shoves as much of his cock as he can in to your mouth, hitting the back of your throat you gag a bit , but still tilt your head to give him access to your throat. He moans, and quickly shoves his cock roughly down your throat, thrusting hard and fast, seeking his own orgasm.
As he approaches his climax he pulls his cock partially out of your mouth, whimpering a bit. "Please, use your tongue, i want to finish on your cute little tongue honey." You whine immediately putting your tongue to work, getting him to his orgasm in seconds as he facefucks you while you caress his cock with your tongue. You gulp his seed down, making sure to not waste a single bit as it hit your tongue.
"Finally time for the main course, get on all fours, I'm going to shove my cock in that wet cunt of yours." He states boldly, long, thick and hard cock already in his hands. You get into position, spreading your folds to give him clear entry, gaining a good girl for your deed. He presses his tip to your entrance, looking to you just to make sure you're ready, you nod, touched by the act. He then roughly shoves ALL of him into you, balls hitting your ass, you squealed, clenching hard around the incredibly large cock, he had to be around 9 inches.
His thrusts were hard and quick, filling you entirely, your next orgasm already approaching. He groaned as you clenched around him again, ehining and writhing as you came around his cock, still pounding away at you, overstimulating you intensely and your eyes rolled back. "Stay with me now baby, gotta let you watch as I pump you full of my kids. You're gonna look so cute all swolen and plump with my babies~mmm gonna stuff you full of them..." He trailed off as his own orgasm approached, his toes curling as he gave one final thrust deep into your pussy.
You could feel the hot spurts of his seed filling you, you giggled happy he was finally breeding you perfectly. "Again, mm Satoru?" You asked, hoping he understood what you meant. He smiled, beginning you thrust right back into you, fucking his cum deep into you. "I never said we were done anyway, gonna pump you until you're overflowing and I know you'll get knocked up."
You somehow don't mind that at all. 🖤
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portgasdwrld · 8 months
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📂OP men + aftercare
Featuring: Luffy, Zoro, Law, GN!reader
Warning: Suggestive, comedy, fluff
Note: I might do more fun posts like this!!
Zoro
-Zoro.?
-Mmmm?
-Can you clean me up, please?
You ask in a sigh as you feel your body already beginning to feel sore. His body slightly shift in the bed as he opens his eye and stares at you somewhat perplexed.
-Huh..? ...Like with my tongue?
-No, you dumbass! With a towel or something, i don't wanna sleep feeling all sticky.
You softly hit his big arm as a muffled chuckle leave your lips. You didn’t paint him as clueless to aftercare as this.
-We can be sticky together then take care of this tomorro-
-No, we cant. Its part of the aftercare babe…
-Whats that?
-Omg..
Luffy
-Luffy, can you bring me a glass of water?
-You're thirsty? Ngl, im kinda hungry too, let me call Sanj-
He starts to rumble as he let his hand rest over his bare abs thinking of all the good food Sanji cooks. You gasp in shock at the thought of Luffy really calling the blond man.
-Don't!- Don't call Sanji for that!
-Why? Arent you hungry ?
He asks confused as his gaze shift to your bare body covered by his sheets. He props himself on his elbows as a yawn leaves his mouth.
-Nah that was you bro. I want water.
-im so lazyyy, but if it makes you happy!
He leaves and then comes back with few pieces of meat and forgot about the water.
Law
He let his body fall next to you as he let a deep groan out. He stays like this for few seconds before he sits up and rubs his eyes, feeling suddenly tensed.
-I have to catch up on so much, I’m not sure what I’m going to be attacking tonight…Maybe I should finish this chap-
-Law…babe, what are you rumbling about.?
You ask in a tired tone as you hoped to be able to cuddle a little with your boyfriend, feel his warmth and being able to enjoy some intimacy after having sex together. He pushes the sheets away from his legs as he prepares himself to leave the bed and change into his clothes, before you grab his arm firmly.
-You’re not leaving me like that. We are going to cuddle and when I’m satisfied you go back to your studying.
-Huh? I have a lot of things to do Y/n-ya..
-Yeah, well you gotta upgrade your aftercare game, because you’re making me feel shitty right now.
He pauses as he takes his time weighting your words and his thoughts. His tired eyes look at you and his lips creep up into a faint smirk. He puts back the sheets on him and props you on him so he has his arms wrapped around your shoulders.
-Sorry, I will work on it.
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mrsriddlenott · 8 months
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~ Caught lll ~
Mattheo Riddle x Fem!reader
masterlist
Warnings:Language,Oral(m!receiving), Choking,Smut&Fluff,Aggressive Sex, Public Sex(kinda near the end), Pretty Much All Smut.
“Are you okay with this Princess?” Mattheo asked in a sigh as he removed his already unbuttoned shirt while walking towards you, “Maybe if they hear you screaming my name they’ll learn the importance of privacy. What do you think Baby?” He chuckled and smiled down at you, already knowing your answer as he lightly pushed you towards the glass door of the shower by your hips.
“Yes, I’m okay with it,” As soon as the words left your lips your back was being pushed against the cold glass as his lips attacked yours and his fingers fumbled with the buttons of your shirt before pulling it off and throwing it aside. As you reached for the buckle of Mattheo’s belt his lips started to roam up and down your neck before he chuckled against the bruised skin while grabbing your hands in one of his, stopping your actions.
“Did I tell you to do that yet Princess?” He asked, eyes locked onto yours as you shook your head no. “You know the rules Angel, speak when you’re spoken to,” His free hand snaked up from your hip to your neck in a flash as he spoke, “No Sir,” He smiled as you whispered your response before pulling you in by your neck to leave a soft kiss on your lips, “Mmmm…..I like Sir, you should use that more often.” He sighed and smiled as you batted your eyes up at him before speaking, “Only if you call me Angel more….Sir.”
Mattheo pulled your hands from his belt to pin them to the glass above your head as he hovered his lips above yours, “Anything for you Angel,” he whispered before slamming his lips into yours, dragging his tongue across your lower lip, begging for entrance as his hand left your neck to roam your body. He quickly tugged your skirt down and allowed it to bunch up on the ground, leaving you in your underwear before him before he pulled away from the kiss to admire your body, releasing your hands and leaning onto the countertop of the sink.
“Turn on the shower,” Mattheo demanded in a low voice as he brought his bottom lip between his teeth, letting his eyes wander down your body. You turned, feeling his eyes on you as you bent down, arching more than necessary to turn the knob to the perfect temperature. For a second you let the water wash over your shoulder as it fell from the head above you before turning back to Mattheo in the now see through material on your body.
“Fuck Princess,” He groaned with his eyes glued on the soaked white cotton on your chest, “The things you do to me,” He shook his head with a laugh as you batted your eyes at him teasingly. “What exactly is it that I do to you Mattheo?” You asked, feigning innocence as you bit your bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as his dick twitched in his pants.
Mattheo chuckled softly as he slowly pushed himself from the countertop and approached you, reaching for your hand. “This is what you do to me,” He whispered as he pulled your hand to palm the bulge in his pants. “And this of course,” He sighed as he took your other hand and placed it on his chest above his raising heart.
You smiled up at him as you moved your hand along the hard bulge in his jeans, pulling a desperate moan close to a growl from him before he was gripping your throat tightly and pulling you in for a sloppy, unfocused kiss as your hand snaked around his neck to get lost in his hair. He groaned against your lips as you tugged on his curls before he spoke again, “Get on your knees for me please Baby,” He demanded with a wide smile and his forehead pressed against yours.
You slowly dropped to your knees, your hand trailing down his exposed torso as you did, letting your fingertips linger over his v-line, forcing a desperate sigh from him. You kept eye contact as you slowly started to unfasten his belt and zipper before he roughly took over, pulling his jeans and boxers down himself, “No time for teasing Princess,” Mattheo’s voice was desperate and demanding as he positioned himself in front of your lips.
You chuckled at his desperation as you pumped him slowly, spreading his pre-cum up and down his shaft. “You won’t be laughing in a second Angel, I can assure you of that.” He sighed out breathlessly before you licked up and down the slit on his tip, making him groan. You slowly took his head between your lips, sucking it softly and circling your tongue around it, as Mattheo watched you intently his dick twitch in your mouth from your maintained eye contact. You pulled away, still pumping him slowly before bringing your tongue to the base of his dick and trailing it up to his tip to take him in your mouth again. He hissed at the sensation, letting his head drop back, steading himself on the counter with one hand as he brought the other to tangle itself in your hair while you started to bob your head on him.
“Fuck Princess,” He sighed happily as you brought your hand up to pump what you couldn’t fit of him in your mouth, his hand in your hair guiding you up and down him at a steady pace. He moaned loudly as his tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly while he lightly thrusted himself in and out your mouth, making you gag around him.
“Fuck, get up here,” He sighed breathlessly as his hand that was tangled in your hair moved to grip your neck, pulling you roughly up to him and smashing his lips into yours. His tongue explored your mouth aggressively as his free hand immediately moved to unclasp your bra and yank your underwear down your legs. His lips trailed from yours to your jaw and down your neck as he threw your underwear aside with a smile. He left open mouthed kisses across your chest and collar bones, leaving as many marks as he wanted before bringing his tongue back up the length of your neck, “Get in.” He whispered against your ear before smacking your ass, making you yelp and jump slightly.
Mattheo followed you as you stepped into the warm water, almost immediately pinning you to the steamy tile wall as he slammed the fogged glass door shut behind him. His lips caught yours and your hands found his hair, tugging on it as he gripped your waist and roughly lifted you up to wrap your legs around his hips. He hastily lined himself up and slammed into with no warning as he held you against the wall with an arm behind your back.
He gripped your thigh as he let you adjust before pulling out and thrusting into you again, harder this time. His lips left yours as he leaned back to watch your face as his tip hit your g-spot repeatedly, your eyes falling shut as your hands moved to steady yourself on his shoulders had him thrusting into you faster and harder, watching as you fell apart on his dick, his name falling from your lips like a chant.
“Fuck I should have just fucked you on that desk and made sure they knew you were mine,” Mattheo growled as he moved his hand to hold you up by both your hips, pulling you under the water as he brought you down on his dick over and over, your wet bodies smacking together as he hit angles he’d never imagined before. His mouth attached itself to the front of your neck as your head fell back into the water screaming his name in pleasure as you came around him for the first time in weeks.
He lifted you up by your hips, waiting only a second before bringing them back down still; your grip on his shoulders tightened as his lips sucked and bit at your neck while you moaned his name. “That’s what I wanna hear Angel,” He whispered before catching your lips with his, his tongue exploring your mouth and muffling your whimpers of pleasure as he plowed into you, helping you ride out your high.
You both moaned into each other’s mouth as you clenched and squirmed around him, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving marks as you bucked your hips to match his thrusts. He picked up the pace of his thrusts as your muscles shook and your back arched away from the water, “Fuck Mattheo,” He chuckled at your breathless moaning as his hands on your hips gripped harder, surely leaving marks behind. His thrust’s became irregular and sloppy as he shoved your body against the wall again, thrusting into you one last time before he was tensing and shaking slightly as he came inside of you.
You both breathed slowly as Mattheo held you up, pulling you forward into a hug, staying inside of you, kissing your cheeks and neck while you both smiled at each other. “Come here, lemme get you cleaned up Angel,” He sighed as he lifted you off of him, softly placing you on your feet and keeping a strong arm around your waist to keep you up on your weak legs.
Mattheo leaned forward, kissing up your shoulder and neck as he grabbed your body wash from behind you, putting a generous amount on your chest and using his hand to lather it around your body, paying extra attention to your boobs and ass making you both fall into fits of laughter. By the time Mattheo decided you were both clean enough to exit the shower, the water was going cold and the towels on the rack were damp with steam.
Mattheo cracked the door open slightly to check your dorm for your friends as you dried yourself off the best you could, “Finally,” He sighed as he came up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and shaking his wet hair over you as he buried his face in your neck, laughing at your annoyance. “Mattheo!” You lightly scolded through laughs before he picked you up from behind, spinning around and carrying you to your bed.
“How about round two Baby?” He asked through a smile as he dropped you on your comforter, closing the curtains around you as he crawled over you slowly, his lips connecting to your exposed skin everywhere they could reach before letting his tongue graze over the areas slowly. “Didn’t you say no teasing?” You giggled as his eyes flicked up to yours before going silent at the look he gave you while he began slowly moving up your body to hold himself up with one hand beside your head, as the other surrounded your neck.
“Hmmm….what was that Angel?” He asked with a smirk and tilt of his head, his grip on your neck tightening slightly, “Answer wisely if you’d like to cum again any time soon Princess,” He chuckled down at you as you squirmed and squeezed your thighs together at his words before finally finding yours, “No-nothing Sir,”
“Smart girl,” Mattheo chuckled while he leant down to catch your lips in his, kissing you slowly as he opened your legs with his knee before leaning back and grabbing your hips to line himself up at your entrance. He slowly pushed himself back inside of you as he leaned forward to kiss you softly, taking both of your hands in each of his and pressing them to the bed next to your head. “I’m gonna fuck you until you can barley speak,” He chuckled distractedly as he buried his face in your neck, slowly pulling himself out and pushing himself back in at a steady pace as you wiggled below him. His slow thrusts were driving you crazy as you whimpered and whined while clenching yourself around him, his tongue and teeth on your neck sending shivers straight to your core as he slowly fucked you.
You gripped at his hands in yours as you desperately bucked your hips onto his, “Faster Mattheo please,” you whined as he pulled his face away from your neck to look you in the eyes, laughing slightly at your fucked state. “Okay Baby, on one condition….you keep your eyes open and on me, can you do that for me Beautiful?” He asked as he stilled inside of you, making you whimper as you nodded your head and agreed as he laughed at your desperation.
“Yes, yes, please Mattheo,” your whines were cut off as he roughly pulled out of you and rammed back into you, sending you slightly up the mattress as he pulled out and repeated his actions while you screamed in pleasure. His eyes bore into yours as he removed his hands from your grip to pull you back to him by your waist, fucking into you even harder as your legs and arms wrapped around him and your nails drug down his back, pulling a moan from the back of his throat.
He steadied himself with both his hands on either side of you as he hovered his face above yours with a smile, his tip grazing your cervix with each hard thrust making your eye contact harder and harder to keep as you fought the urge to let your head fall back. The creaks of your bed and your shared moans as he rolled his hips in and out of you drowning the sound of your door being opened and three sets of shoes entering after it.
“Are you guys finally done yet or what?” Draco’s annoyed voice echoed through your dorm outside of the hangings of your bed as Mattheo gave you a devilish smile before pounding into you even harder, forcing out a pornagraphic moan as he watched you with a grin.
“You guys are like rabbits I swear,” Blaise spoke, the smirk evident in his voice as Mattheo sped up his actions even more, leaning forward and connecting your bodies as he placed his sweaty forehead to yours. The bed began to shake and hit the wall as your moans blended together, both of you silently praying the curtains stayed closed as he fucked you into the mattress.
You finally caved and let yourself shut your eyes as your head fell back against your pillow, Mattheo’s thrusts directly into your g-spot making it impossible to follow his order as you began to come undone on his dick. He brought his lips to your neck, muffling his own moans while sucking and biting your skin as you clenched around him, screaming his name as you came together. The sound of the door closing loudly made you both giggle as Mattheo collapsed on top of you, catching his breath as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
“Don’t think you’re gonna get away with disobeying me just because that was the best sex we’ve ever had,” He sighed breathlessly into your neck before biting it aggressively, making you buck forward on him again.
~~~~
@80scinemvasworld @animorose @nevillescomslut @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @ttsbaby01 @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @spencer-reids-wife
~~~~
Caught IV
Caught V
Caught VI
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pyro-chaos · 6 months
Text
Mike Schmidt x Reader
Sometimes
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Pt. 2. to This Series
Summary: How life’s going with the new roomie!! Smutttyyy, kinda smutty
Tropes: And they were roommates. Smut fluff, and a smidge of angst
Word count: 2317
A/N: Yooo, this is my first attempt at writing something… saucy. Lol, what do you think??
At first, Mike had reservations about moving in with you.
He thought it would… change the relationship dynamic.
It does, but not in the way he expects.
“Morning, Abby’s brushing her teeth,” you hand Mike a plate of toast with jam and scrambled eggs, “I have to stay late today. Our department has a project due.”
Mike nods, “Okay,” he swallows a mouthful of eggs, “what time should I go for you?”
You put the egg pan in the sink, on top of two other plates.
“Actually, I’m going out tonight. So I think you’re good until tomorrow morning”
Honestly, it surprised him a bit, when he found out you had other friends.
Well, that sounds bad, he’s just surprised by the activity within your social life. It makes him crave something he didn’t know he cared about.
“Will you be home tonight?” He asks.
You gulp down the last of your coffee like a shot. Then you shrug, “I wouldn’t count on it, but maybe.”
Mike swallows his last bite and takes his plate to the sink, “Okay, be safe.”
You smile and finish getting ready for the day. Mike does the dishes.
To be honest, Mike loves having a roommate.
You split the bills evenly. Mike takes half the rent, you take the water bill. Mike gets electric, but you have the insurance.
It’s nice. It feels like he found an island after struggling to keep afloat.
He can afford to go way down in hours. Rather than carry the weight of two full-time jobs, Mike only has to manage one, with the odd double shift.
There’s a park within walking distance from your house. It has a tire swing. Mike has the time to walk Abby there on weekends, and the energy to give her a boost.
Sometimes, You come home smelling like booze.
Sometimes, Mike stays up past Abby’s bedtime to make lunches for the next day. Or to catch up on forgotten chores.
Sometimes, he stays up just ‘cause he can do that now; without feeling mind-crushing guilt.
Sometimes, you run into each other on those nights.
It’s Friday night, a week after you successfully completed the work project, and you stumble into the house at an odd hour.
You smell like a mix of someone else’s cologne and cheap alcohol. Your lipstick is smudged and your clothes look ruffled.
Mike watches you wobble to the sink after kicking off your shoes.
He pretends not to notice the hickeys littering your neck while you chug a glass of water.
“Rough day?” He means it as a joke, but Mike doubts the concerned tilt of his eyebrows makes it seem like one.
“MMmm nuh uh” you answer; slightly out of breath, “S-sorry, just a lil’ thirsty.”
Mike chuckles. He puts a bowl of leftover pasta in the microwave.
If anyone ever asked, he’d deny it until his tongue fell out. But Mike thinks you're cute drunk, and he likes how the curve of your breasts peek out of that top.
Nights like this make him feel kind of gross. He goes to bed soaked with guilt because he knows he shouldn’t ogle anyone like he’s ogling you.
If you ever found out about how he stared at you after you slumped into a kitchen stool, he’d kill himself.
You’re wearing a skirt, and he can see… he can see the inside of your thighs. You’re slouching too. He can see the trail of purple outline your collar bones, and lead into - No.
He sets the bowl of pasta in front of you and then sits down across from you. He’s praying you didn’t see him twitch under his pants.
You slowly eat the pasta, like you’re having trouble feeling your mouth.
Mike stirs his tea.
He tries not to think about your mouth.
When you’re finished, you look a little less, unbothered. Your eyes go a little dark, and you’re holding your head up awkwardly.
“Ready for bed?” Mike questions. He hopes you don’t hear the desperation hidden in the softness of his voice.
You nod.
He leaves an old pot by your bed before heading to his own room.
Nights like this, Mike feels how long it’s been since he’s gotten pussy.
His dick is throbbing. It’s begging, and it hurts, but he fucking refuses to give in.
Mike tries to clench his legs and think about anything, other than how you might’ve looked riding someone else’s dick.
His hips buck up into nothing.
Your tits would bounce. The other guy probably loved it. Mike bets the other guy couldn’t resist popping your nipples into his mouth. Or maybe he used his hands. Maybe he gripped your tits so hard that you saw stars.
Mike rolls over - face down - his pelvis squishes his boner into the bed at this angle. He’s glad for the pillow that swallows his groan.
He thought the new position would help, but it doesn’t, the friction just makes everything worse.
Mike can’t get those damn hickies out of his head. They’ve seared into his mind like a brand that just keeps bleeding. He wants to lick them. He wants to know what you’d do if he licked them.
Oh god, and your thighs.
It takes him a moment to realize that he’s grinding against his sheets.
He huffs, practically ripping off his boxers and gripping the base of his dick.
He gives in.
He thinks about how you’d look sprawled on his bed.
What would you do? - Mike wonders - if you woke up to him between your thighs?
Mike would go slow, he’d go so slow, and he’d make it feel good. He wouldn’t leave until you shake.
He’d spread you open first; let your legs rest open like a monument. He might indulge himself with a kitten lick along your clit.
Then, he’d slide a finger through your slit.
Would you want to sit on his face?
Mike's balls go tight, his dick jumping as he imagines your weight on his tongue.
He licks his lips, hoping to taste something he’s never had.
He finishes all over his stomach, and tries not to imagine how you’d look licking it up.
He doesn’t know how he’s gonna look into your eyes tomorrow.
It's Saturday, and Mike said he’d give you a ride to a car that you found on Craigslist.
“What happened to your car?” Abby asks at the beginning of the drive.
Mike glares at his sister through the mirror, but he can’t shush her without revealing that he’s already figured out what happened to your car.
“It’s not mine anymore” you respond. Your tone isn’t sad, or forlorn, but the mood shifts anyway.
Mike fills the awkwardness by asking what Abby wants for lunch.
You don’t end up buying the car.
The guy on Craigslist listed the car under Used, Like New but the car was definitely not, Like New.
You apologize to Mike so many times he stops keeping count, but he really doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal.
He had to look for months before he found a reliable car for an affordable price.
He’s sure to tell you as much, but he still finds extra cash in his glove compartment the next day.
Sometimes it feels like you don’t think of him as a friend, just someone you’re living with.
It bothers him.
You go out again on Sunday night, you come home smelling even worse.
Mike’s in the living room when he hears something fumble with the locks. At first, he thinks nothing of it, but then he hears a thump against the door.
Mike peeks through the peephole, and rolls his eyes after he watches you almost eat shit when you lose your footing.
You’re too drunk to stand on your own. Mike doesn’t even bother to ask if you’re okay, he just helps you to your room and puts the old pot near your bed, again.
Abby sleeps across the house, so she doesn’t hear you puke your guts out at 3a.m.
Mike does, and it makes him feel something bad. It’s a feeling he’s not used to associating with you. Disappointment? Disgust?
Something like that - there’s a bit of anger in there too - but it’s also mixed with worry. You’re not the type of person to get black-out drunk on a Sunday night.
But still, that’s two nights this week you’ve come home drunk.
In literally any other circumstance, Mike would mind his own business, but you live with Abby now.
He remembers the little furrow of Abby’s brow when he told her that you got sick. How worried would Abby get if she heard you puking in the middle of the night? How the fuck could he even begin to explain that to her?
Mike doesn’t want her to be around someone who’s drinking themselves stupid; It’s dysfunctional. Didn’t you have enough respect for Abby to understand that?
He’ll talk to you about it tomorrow night, but tonight, he checks the medicine cabinet. Just to make sure you have enough aspirin for tomorrow morning.
The next morning goes normally. You make breakfast. Abby gets ready. Mike does the dishes.
He doesn’t want to deal with the aftermath of the upcoming conflict quite yet.
Mike just picked you up from work. You applied extra makeup this morning to cover up the dark circles under your eyes, but Mike knows they’re there.
“So, wanna talk about what happened last night?” He doesn’t even bother hiding the judgment from his tone.
“What happened last night?”
Mike feels a flame of anger roll through his body. He has to take a breath before responding, “Don’t play dumb”
You stop sipping on your coffee and lean against the back of the seat. You look out the window for a moment, like you’re thinking really hard about something.
Mike’s thumbs lightly tap the steering wheel. He can feel his temper simmer under his vertebrae.
You lick your lips, and fiddle with the hem of your shirt, “Okay, but first I want to apologize.”
He stays silent, but he’s a little surprised.
“I’ve been irresponsible, and inconsiderate, and I’m really sorry. It’s not fair for you to have to deal with the fallout of my bullshit.”
Mike agrees, but he’s not sure what he could say without expressing that agreement. So, he stays silent.
You rub your eyes, “Oliver and I broke up.”
Mike knows this. You didn’t tell him, but he lives with you, it’s not that hard to put two and two together. Why does it matter?
“I thought I was gonna spend the rest of my life with him, you know?”
Oh. No. He didn’t.
“I just… I’ve been taking it kind of hard,” you sit up, and your voice gains a bit of confidence, “it’s not an excuse, though. I promise it won’t happen again.”
Mike hears your promise, and releases a long breath he didn’t know he was holding.
You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Oliver. That’s… it makes sense that you’ve been getting drunk a lot.
“It’s okay,” he adjusts his hold on the steering wheel, and keeps his tone soft; like he’s trying to caress you with words, “it’s just with Abby - you know?” he shrugs and allows his sentence to hang in the air.
“No, yeah absolutely, I get it. I’m sorry I put you both in that position.”
Your words sound genuine.
Mike literally feels the fight flood out of his nervous system. The emptiness leftover makes him want to go to sleep.
The thought of the conversation tugged on his brain all day, like he was unconsciously gearing up for a fight, and now that it’s over he feels drained.
The drive stays silent until he arrives at Abby’s school. But it’s not submissive or uncomfortable silence. Mike doesn’t feel suffocated by the lack of conversation.
He’s parked at the front of the school when you talk again.
“Are we okay?” you ask, and the softness of your tone makes Mike melt.
“Yeah,” for the first time in the entire conversation - Mike looks at you - and he’s kind of surprised to find you already looking at him, “Yeah, we’re okay.”
Mike did not expect the apology, but he’s glad he got it.
If he’s being honest, he expected you to justify why you’ve been drinking, but your willingness to take accountability came completely out of left field.
That’s not to say Mike feels the apology was unnecessary. It’s more like, he wanted a justification for your behavior; he wanted to understand why you did what you did before getting truly upset with you, but he didn’t expect you to acknowledge how your crisis affected him. But you did.
It’s like, he went into a restaurant expecting his favorite meal, but instead he gets his favorite meal plus an ingredient that he didn’t know would make the entire meal better.
It makes him feel seen.
It makes him like you more.
After that, you seem more comfortable around Mike, and you don’t go out as often.
If you do, you’re home before midnight, and you’re sober.
If you’re not sober, you call, and let Mike know you’re staying at a friend’s for the night.
You act a bit differently too.
It’s kind of strange, because Mike thought you felt comfortable around him before that conversation, but apparently he underestimated how often you try to keep a professional facade around him and Abby.
But now, you allow him to see you in pajamas.
He didn’t even know you owned pajamas.
They’re cute and baggy; fluffy sweats that pool around your ankles, and a matching sweater.
You buy a shelf for Abby’s art supplies. You put it in the living room, in case she wants to draw while she watches TV.
Mike starts to wear sweats too.
Abby’s drawings start to fill up the empty space on the refrigerator
1K notes · View notes
eddiesxangel · 4 months
Note
spicy aftermath after Eddie surprises you with a new tattoo. i got inspired from this pic of Jake webber (doesnt have to be this specific tattoo but similar position/placement) 😋
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Minors go away:
Cw: pure smut, one use of reader calling Eddie ‘Daddy’ (sorry if you’re not into that, just kinda happened), pet names, p in v, blow job, unprotected sex, creampie.
“What did you do?” You asked as Eddie stood infront of the bedroom mirror taking off the opaque plastic taped to his lower stomach.
“Hey sweetness” he smirked.
“What did you do?” You repeated yourself.
As he turned around you were able to read what had been permanently written on his skin.
Lucky You
Right below his bellybutton was etched in black ink; it was such a contrast compared to his milky white skin.
“Lucky you?” You read out loud not understanding.
Eddie gave a smirk before dropping his pants so his somehow already hard cock popped up and hit right below his stomach where the tattoo was.
“Oh” you blushed when it hit you.
“Yea baby, oh… now come over here and see how lucky you can really get.”
This cocky mother fucker.
You walked over to him and dropped you your knees, you couldn’t say no to him. You were already getting wet looking at the tattoo.
“Lucky me? I think you’re the one in luck Mr. Munson?” You winked before take his cock on one hand to guide the tip to your mouth.
You first licked the slit where a drop of precum had come out. The taste of slaty brine makes your eyes roll back into your head as you took in more of the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue on the most sensitive part of his cock.
“Mmmm baby you’re so good at this”
You hummed at his praise and took him further so his cock was fully in your mouth. You looked up to see his mouth was slightly open and his eyes were crinkled.
“Love the way you take my cock” You felt his palm resting on the back of your head. His fingers were starting to grip your hair.
“Shit maybe I am the lucky one” Eddie have chuckled but then let out another main of pleasure as your soft tongue worked his shaft. You wanted him to feel good, you wanted to be the one to make Eddie feel good. You loved having his cock in your mouth, at your mercy, begging for you to make him cum.
“Fuck baby I wanna cum, but I wanna cum in you”
“That can be arranged” you spoke before you took him all the way down your throat. You eyed the fresh ink as you bobbed your head up and down his length. The ink was still raw, you were careful not to touch it, but you so badly wanted to trace each letter with your tongue when it was fully healed.
“Fuck baby! No no not in your mouth! I want to fuck you so bad” he wined trying to hold off on cumming before he got the chance to fuck your pussy. You watched as the muscles ins his lower stomach flexed making the letters get smaller. Eddie winced at the sting of the tattoo flexing but it was nothing in comparison of the euphoria you were providing with your wet mouth.
You felt Eddie’s grip on your hair tighten as he reluctantly pulled your way. A string of spit connected his cock and your mouth and it didn’t break until Eddie bent down to kiss you before guiding the both of you to the bed.
“Arch your back for me sweetheart and show me what’s mine” Eddie commanded as you got on all fours on top the bed.
You obeyed and lowered your shoulders so they were level to the bed and your ass was as high in the air as it could go.
“Fucking perfect. You were made just for me.” He praised and your pussy bleached at his words.
You felt so exposed and Eddie stood behind you looking at your holes.
“You wanna continue to see how lucky you can get baby?”
“Please” you begged.
Eddie couldn’t stand to see you wiggling your ass in the air any longer without touching you. He needed to feel you.
You felt Eddie’s fingers slowly graze puffy pussy pips from your slit from clit to hole. He stopped at your hole and circled it a few times collecting your juiciest before pulling away.
He could see how wet you had gotten just from sucking his cock and it made him absolutely feral. He sniffed your arousal coating his fingers before placing them into his mouth. His eyes rolled back and he left out a soft moan.
“Baby please” you didn’t know what he was doing back there you just knew he had stopped touching you.
“Fuck my baby has a sweet pussy” he whispered.
“You can have me anytime” you cry just wanting him to fell you.
“Like now?” You could hear the smirk.
“Yes baby! Now! Please” you clue was throbbing you just needed Eddie to do something.
“God I need you”
“Thank take me! I’m yours!”
Eddie didn’t need to be told again, he lined his cock up at your entrance and slowly stretched you out. Savouring each and every glorious inch as your pussy swallowed him to the hilt.
You couldn’t take the lack of speed at which he was going so you decided to rock your hips up and down so you could ride his cock.
“Oh she’s eager” Eddie smacked your ass hard enough it echoed in the room.
“You fill me so good” you get through your teeth. Your pleasure only building more and more with each graze of your g spot.
“Yea baby? You feeling like the lucky one now?”
“Yes Daddy”
“That’s what I like to hear” Eddie’s hips started in time with yours and before you could think you were being pounded into.
The moans that were coming out of your mouth were feral. Your brain had been turned off, all you knew was Eddie’s cock and his cock alone.
Eddie reached under you so he could play with your clothes knowing you would only get off if she got her attention.
“Fuck fuck fuck I’m going from cum!”
“Do it baby, come for me, claim me.”
“Not until you come first”
“I’m there! I’m cumming!” Your body shook under Eddie weight as your inner walls clamped down and the release of serotonin flowed through your body.
Eddie was right there with you shooting his load into your pussy not letting it escape just yet.
After a minute of catching your breath Eddie pulled back and out
“I don’t know who is more lucky” he said as he watched the white fluid slowly drip out of you.
“I’d say we both are” you giggle as Eddie wraps you into his arms.
748 notes · View notes
revasserium · 2 months
Note
Mmmm perhaps 13? A kinda sensitive reader x Opla zoro? Or a tender moment between the two? 👀
send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble
13. handle with care
zoro; 1,014 words; fluff, strawhat!reader, gn!reader, no "y/n", mentions of blood, established relationship, zoro being zoro, mentions of poison
summary: in which you attempt to treat zoro post battle
a/n: i do love the "sucking out poison with your mouth" trope, i gotta admit
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It is almost always in the aftermath of battle, when the dust has settled and the blood’s been shed, that Zoro seems most himself. There’s something in the dull, pulsing ache of fresh wounds, the harsh sting and strain of his muscles, the adrenaline still singing through his veins —
“This is gonna hurt…” you glance up as you press an alcohol-soaked cotton ball to a large slash across his chest and Zoro hisses.
But his eyes are closed and there’s a small, satisfied smile inked across his lips.
“Doesn’t even sting.”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes as Zoro’s stomach tenses beneath your touch; you carefully press the cotton ball to his wound again, watching the edges grow heavy and dark with blood.
“You really oughtta be more careful…” you say, voice low as you reach for a fresh cotton ball and dip it in the alcohol once more. Zoro grunts, his eyes half-lidded as they track your movements. You glance up to meet them, only to blush and look away as he gaze catches on yours.
“I’m good at staying alive,” he says, by way of an answer, and you resist the urge to sigh and roll your eyes for the nth time that day.
“If this cut had been a few centimeters to the right —“
“But it wasn’t.”
The softness of his words makes you look up, your fingers pausing as you reach for the gauze siting next to his bent elbow, propped carelessly against the kitchen counter.
“And I’ve got you,” he says, lips twitching as he reaches over slow, pressing the gauze into your palm with smooth, deliberate movements.
You curl your fingers around the gauze and swallow, feeling heat tiptoe up the back of your neck and sink into your cheeks. You busy yourself with smearing a thick balm over the worst parts of the wound and pressing the gauze over it. Zoro lets out a soft hiss, his head tipping back, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.
“Oh — sorry —”
“It’s nothing,” but his voice is rough and scored around the edges.
You frown at the darkness already seeping through the fresh bandages and cock your head.
“No… something’s wrong,” you tug at the bandages, your heart thudding in your throat.
“It’ll fix itself in a few —”
“Stop it,” you snap, your eyes sharp as you glare up at him, pressing a hand to his chest; he freezes at your touch. You stare at each other for a few seconds before he lets out a long breath and relaxes, a grimace edging to the surface.
“It hurts, doesn’t it? More than it should,” you say, more a statement than a question, carefully wiping away the balm and squinting at the edges of the wound, the skin turning an unnatural blueish gray.
“Barely.”
“Zoro, I swear —”
“Fine.” He bites out the word like poison —
Your eyes go wide — poison.
“The guy who clawed you — what did you say he turned into?”
Zoro scoffs, “I dunno — some weird thing that looked like a duck but had fur —”
“Shit —” you toss the sullied gauze aside and wipe haphazardly at the wound before bending down to press your lips to the gash, sucking hard. Zoro makes a noise somewhere between pain and surprise as you spit out a mouthful of dark, already congealing blood into the sink next to him.
“W-what the —”
You look up to find him wide-eyed — bewildered and blushing, his breaths coming in short pants.
“Platypus venom — there’s no cure —” you hastily wipe your mouth before bending down again. Zoro lets out a soft moan that borders on indecent, but there’s no time for you to linger on the sound as you straighten back up to spit out another mouthful of bitter-tasting blood.
“The only way out is — well —” you lean back down to wrap your lips around the wound and suck, pulling back to spit out more blood, “Out.”
“Holy shit —” he groans again as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and frown down at the wound, your mind racing with mental calculations of how long it might take for the venom to spread through a person’s system, and how long it’s been since Zoro had come stumbling back with the rest of your crew, grinning and blood-splattered.
“How long’s it been hurting this bad?” you ask, your eyes flickering between his face and his stomach. He lets out a short puff of breath that might’ve been a chuckle.
“Not that long.”
“Zoro please — I need you to tell me the truth — don’t play macho when your life might be —”
“I’d never lie to you.”
His words are clipped, and your heart skids in your chest at the earnestness in his voice.
“Okay… I believe you. I think —” you reach for a glass of water to rinse out your mouth before turning on the faucet to wash your lips and chin, “I think we got most of it out in time. But let me know if it gets any worse, okay?”
Zoro nods, his eyes falling shut again as he relaxes against the counter. You sigh, reaching up to cup his cheek, running a thumb across a tiny cut on his left cheek.
“You really oughtta be more careful…”
Zoro laughs, the sound breathy and a bit broken but warm all the same.
And when he opens his eyes to look at you, you find nothing but affection reflected there, even though his lips are a bit paler than you’re used to, his gaze ever so slightly unfocused.
“Didn’t I just tell you —”
You roll your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, you’re good at staying alive.”
“No,” he reaches up to press his hand over yours, leaning his cheek into the palm of your hand, closing his eyes as he turns his head to kiss the pad of your thumb —
“I’ve got you.”
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simpjaes · 5 months
Note
i try to not indulge in the idea of stepcest cause it feels so wrong but i need to admit to someone that it’s just so…mmmm. it’s a guilty pleasure soooo let me send this ask before u go crazy heehee
stepbro jay would be one of those guys whose so respectful and nice to everyone but really he’s the worst. during your first family dinner after you and your mom move in with him and his dad, he sits right next to you and keeps his hand on your thighs while laughing with his dad and your mom. later on in the night he comes to your room pretending he wants to talk to you but he actually has you face down ass up, with your face shoved in a pillow so your moans and screams are muffled. he’s so arrogant and mean to you because you’re just an easy access fucktoy for him 🤭
sorry this is being answered so late! anyway, i get that you feel like it's wrong but here on this blog, we support fiction being like, yknow, not fuckin' real.
wc: 1.6k
note: jay and reader are in college living with their good ol' very in love parents. warnings: stepcest, jay is kinda rough lol, use of the word slut
step bro jay appearing like the perfect son and the perfect brother for you?? Your mom always thought you needed some type of male energy in your life that didn't involve boyfriends or her failed boyfriends, and she was really happy to learn how much he enjoyed being around when she and jay's dad eventually got serious and wanted to settle down.
it was a win/win. Your mother no longer needed to overwork herself to take care of herself and you, and you now had someone to lean on too.
And lean on him you did.
What your mother didn't know was the instant attraction you had to Jay. You're a young woman after all, freshly twenty two and so fucking ready to mingle since your last boyfriend was an awful lay. God, if only you had met Jay before your mom fucked his dad. like, for real.
And what Jay's dad didn't know is that he raised an absolute slut. Jay knew the moment he laid eyes on you that he would be encouraging his father to keep it up with your mom. Why? So he can be around you, of course, so he can see if you'd be willing to let him play with you a little bit.
Now though? he's learned that you're moving in alongside your mother and he didn't protest for even a moment. Hell, he practically moved you into your new room himself, trying to officially get on your good side since by this time, the two of you have only gotten to hang out five or six times, and never alone.
~
The first time Jay cornered you was a little surprising, as you thought you were the only one with a sneaky little crush on him. You remember it like it was yesterday (because it was like the same night you moved in).
He was moving the last box into your room as you sat on your floor organizing a small box of knick knacks. Your mother was outside with his father attempting to move in a large vanity that both you and Jay knew would take some time without their help.
"You seemed excited when they told us you were moving in--" Jay starts, sitting down the box and standing in front of you, looking down at you until you make eye contact. "Why?"
You shrug, blinking up and tilting your head.
"It's just nice to see her happy, I guess?" You offer.
"Bullshit, I've seen you checking me out." He says snidely, crouching down to your level and swiveling his head a bit to get a real good look at your face.
Before you can deny it, he smiles and continues.
"You know, I'm kinda into it."
And then he walked out, leaving you there with a crush that grew just a bit more.
The second time he cornered you was after a shower, shortly before one of your classes started. He stepped out of his room the same time you stepped out with dampened skin sticking to your t-shirt. No pants, no bra, just the shirt and panties.
You really should have considered that you live in a house with men now. It doesn't matter how early in the morning it is, anyone could be awake. And of course, Jay was awake.
He stopped in his tracks to check out your legs. Entirely blatant about it before walking up to you. You stumbled back a step, straight into the bathroom as he continued to walk closer and closer. Up until you were against the counter, he was smiling, and then brushed his hand by your waist to grab his toothbrush behind you with a small and cocky whisper of "god, you looked so ready for me to do something else, didn't realize you were that desperate."
So, that was something that stuck in your brain for like, way too long.
The third time was when he did do something else. Your mother was at work, his father too, and you had just gotten home from class. Normally, you've learned that Jay takes classes much later than you do, but he was home today.
God, he was definitely home.
With his hand down his pants.
On your bed.
And, well, you can argue that's probably the moment your crush on him crossed a boundary that would never be spoken of. Because what you did was blasphemous. Your parents should have known not to move in together with two horny college students in tow. Honestly.
You still remember the way his hands felt up your shirt, offering him a bit more than just his imagination there on your bed. He touched you a lot that day, and in turn you touched yourself twice as more on his bed just a day later.
So, that leads to tonight's dinner. Again, the first real dinner you've gotten to have as a "family" and all you can think about is the way your mom dotes on Jay for being such a good, protective brother. And how his father dotes on you, for being such a good influence on his son....despite his son's hand squeezing your thigh as he accepts the compliments and dotes on them right back.
"Thanks for making my dad happy again." "Thank you for always cooking the best meals." "Thank you for making the house look like a home."
God, you roll your eyes at him, really. Because you've already grown accustomed to the dirty, fucked up things he says to you when the two of you are alone. That hand on your leg further proves that he's full of shit and he knows you love it.
The worst part is that you do. Despite telling him that night you let him touch you that it would never happen again. Despite him not knowing that you have had at least three orgasms against the very pillow he lays his head on at night.
Anyway, it's wrong. And you continue to brood over the fact that you genuinely can't let yourself be weak again around him. No matter how much you want him, no matter how much he appears to want you.
He knows you set a boundary last time, and since then he hasn't approached you again until now, with his hand squeezing up your thigh until you jolt under the touch and alert your mother.
You dodged her questions, swiped his hand away, and finished your meal as quietly as you could before immediately heading back to your room.
"What's up with her?" Jay's father asks, looking at your mother.
"I'm not sure..."
Jay stands up, smiling genuinely and innocently at both of them.
"I'll go talk to her. She mentioned something about a fight with one of her friends the other day. She's probably upset about it or something"
The parents beam at him, despite his blatant lie as he makes his way to your room.
And, well, you're bad at keeping your own boundaries apparently because the second he walked into your room was the second you fell apart. As if his hand on your leg didn't already have you crumbling.
"You're too obvious." He scolded. "I just touched your leg, relax. At least let me get something out of this if you're not gonna put out for me after all that from before." He continued.
You just sat there staring at his angry whispered words.
"Jay--" You started in a half moan, but he continued.
"What's so bad about wanting to fuck anyway? You're right here, and you want it. I mean, look at you." he waves his hands at your body, and the way your fingers are clearly inside of yourself. "Me touching your leg has you up here trying to reach places that only i'd be able to reach."
"Then do it--" You cut yourself off this time, moving your fingers and scissoring them open in hopes that he would really give it to you despite your protests from the last time.
He's so fast with it too, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you down the bed before shoving you to roll over. There, you immediately arch your back and perk your ass up at him. He shakes his head in pity, but the smirk on his lips tells you that he likes it. He probably loves when girls do this for him. And he reacts even more to it by pulling the loose shorts down your thighs, and then spreading your legs.
"Fuck, I knew you'd let me." He praises himself more than you. "Put your fingers back in, let me see what you what you were doing up here all by yourself."
You found yourself listening instantly, sliding in two fingers and hiding your face in your pillow. This only pushes him further, glancing up at the way you hide from the act, then licking his own fingers and sliding them in along side your own.
"What would your mom say?" He laughs, lifting himself now and placing his hand on the back of your head. "Hm? Do you think she'd be interested to find out how much of a slut her daughter is?"
All you can do is nod brokenly against the harsh feeling of his palm against your head, and the way he slides his fingers into you, forcing pressure on your own.
"You're gonna take it, right?" He continues, watching those broken nods continue before he's pulling his fingers out of you, pushing your face further into those pillow, and shoving his pants down just enough to get his cock out.
"Yeah, fuck, look at it. You want it so bad." He seethes out through gritted teeth, staring at the way your needy cunt clenches around your fingers in reaction to the loss of his. Then he's slapping your wrist to remove your fingers and immediately pushing into you. Giving you exactly what you want, and all of that.
He's such a good brother, for real.
There, he doesn't relent or let you breathe even for a moment. All you can hear is ringing in your ears and the sound of him grunting out words of, "god, you're so fucking tight." and "dripping all over me, you really thought I'd stay away?" and "yeah, fuck, just take it."
And you do. You take it. Biting into the pillow through the pleasure and immense guilt of loving the way your strep brother's cock pulses inside of you. Loving the way he fucks hard and fast. Loving that he slides in deep every fucking time.
So much for talking.
Then again, you clearly weren't in the mood to talk anyway.
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Text
Hazbin Hotel characters react to your stims
(I'm doing my personal favorite characters, so if there are others you wanna see, ask me. They may also be slightly OOC.)
Vox
You can't convince me this man doesn't also have ADHD. He's just spent decades masking it, as well as most of himself, to present a perfect image. Probably heard the term as it got more well known but didn't really connect the dots until meeting you.
He fidgets a lot, tapping his claws, bouncing his legs, can't sit in a fucking chair properly.
Doesn't realize he's overstimulated and burnt out from multi tasking dozens of screens until you point it out.
Once he's aware of it you help him manage his work better so he can be less stimulated and tense. You buy him proper fidget toys to mess with and he makes himself some top of the line bass boosted sound canceling headphones. He gives you a pair, too. When you're both alone, you look up songs with loaded bass in 8d just to watch each other twitch and involuntarily move your head with the sound.
That's about the extent of the conscious level of unmasking he'll do though. He gets self conscious.
But, he adores the fact you're comfortable enough to stim around him. Or in public. He can and will violently end people for even giving you dirty looks for stimming in public.
If you show excitement and joy over being around someone through happy noms he will literally get heart eyes. Just be careful where you bite him because it may lead to something else.
He's happy to let you stim, which means tricking him into doing it more.
He remembers and sub consciously absorbs your echolalias or any word replacements you use. If you do a lot of call and response vocals he learns them. (Call and response is basically when you memorize a sound with two people. One calls the other responds. You can just say both parts yourself ((I do)) but it's more satisfying with someone else).
If you do happy flappies this man will short circuit. (He will laugh if you accidentally smack yourself though).
If you squeal and kick you may give him a heart attack. He thought you were hurt or something. He gets used to it eventually but it still startles him.
Vox is also a chatter box so you two can info dump about special interests to each other for hours. Neither one of you expects the other to remember details, but the fact you don't tell each other to shut up and are content to do your own thing while listening to your partner/friend gush is enough.
He has long since forced himself into strict routines so if you struggle to get tasks started or get distracted in the middle of them he's understanding but stern. Tends to cause more harm than good because he talks down to you unintentionally.
If you're a visual/hands on learner he also gets frustrated with you for wasting hours trying to figure it out yourself and getting yourself upset instead of just letting him do it for you. You get into a lot of fights about it at first. He gets better when he sees it genuinely prevents you from enjoying things or trying new things and that you just kinda default to defeated and helpless. He didn't mean to make you feel dumb, he just doesn't understand why you wouldn't want help. Until the tables turn and as he's getting worked up over something he can't figure out and you just stare at him.
He finally snaps at you what the hell you're doing and you smirk "need help? Why don't I just do it for you and you watch? Come on, you've been struggling for an hour, stop being so stubborn and just let me do it. I'll show you later, it's not hard." You feed his own lines back at him and his stomach drops.
"Oh....that feels...mmmm. Nope! Don't like that. Ok. Won't happen again, doll."
Realistically if you work with him and you make mouth noises a lot (bird whistles, tongue clicks, humming, random shrieks) he will get annoyed. It's distracting him and sometimes you don't realize you're doing it and mess up anything he tries to record. The first few times he snaps at you and it causes problems (hello rejection sensitive dysphoria) but eventually he learns how to better talk to you/communicate without accidentally convincing you he hates you.
Alastor
Probably on the spectrum himself, but it also could just be his anti-social habits. Either way he finds you entertaining and your bouts of sporadic energy and gremlin like behavior don't phase him. He's been dealing with Niffty for years.
If you sing or hum a lot to get work done, or listen to music he's all for it. But if you're the type of ADHD where work fast music=horny and bass he'll insist you wear headphones. If you're content to listen to swing (he'll compromise with electroswing) or jazz, he'll play the radio for you.
He doesn’t even care if you're a good singer or not, he just likes seeing you get into it. Will show off by singing it better than you though.
If you're someone who picks your fingers or skin, he'll slap your hands. You bleeding is making him hungry and distracting him. He'll find you something else to do with your hands. Same with nail biting.
He tends to pull his hair when stressed so if you stim with your hair he gets it and unless it's harmful (eating/pulling) he'll leave it, but if you're like him he's either cutting your hair short or braiding it.
Will die before admitting it but thinks you flapping, hopping, clapping, squealing is the most adorable thing ever. Also, laughs at you if you smack yourself, though.
Doesn't understand your memes so half your echolalia go over his head and he just kinda stares at you.
Scolds you for not sitting in the chair properly.
Smiles, nods, and occasionally says "that's nice dear" when you info dump. It's not that he doesn't care, he just can't listen to something he's not interested in for that long.
Mouth noises make his eye twitch but so long as they don't interrupt him, he won't scold you.
He understands you're not dumb but he also doesn't have the patience to help your or wait for you to get things done so he does them for you and tells you stop pouting when you get upset with him.
He likes you enough to not reject your touch and enjoys being in your space, but please refrain from happy biting the cannibal. He will bite back and it's less cute when he does.
Lucifer
The original AUDHD. You two chatter for hours about special interests.
He makes you stim toys.
You two do the adhd laugh so hard over dumb shit you gotta hold onto and smack each other thing. You both wind up on the floor.
Literally would never talk down to you or trigger your RSD. He's spent centuries feeling like he's constantly annoying, dumb, and struggling to time manage and do tasks.
Is equally fed up with people offering to do things for him because he can do it he just needs help getting started. The more you ask if he wants you to do it or when he's gonna do it the harder it is. So you two just sorta hobble together a system for getting shit done.
It's not perfect but if it gets outta hand he can just snap his fingers and fix it.
He happy flaps with his hands and wings and constantly knocks you or other shit over. It embarrasses him but you're in love. You two sometimes hold hands to do the happy bounce squeal, shaking each other.
He initiates happy bites more than you do. Honestly you both start looking like chew toys.
You two echolali all the time and share new ones you find. If you ever can't find each other, just shout one of your current vocal stims and he'll respond.
Literally, the definition of choas couple.
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princessmaybank · 6 months
Text
Call Him Back
Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, PIV, obscene phone call, dirty talk, daddy kink-ish, fluff-ish, praise kink-ish, unedited (if I missed any let me know)
Summary: JJ and you are in the middle of something when you get an unexpected phone call.
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"Oh shit Y/N.." JJ moans out while railing you in doggy style. *buzz...buzz...buzz* You ignored your phone that was on vibrate. *buzz...buzz...buzz* Whoever it was could wait, or that's what you thought. *buzz...buzz* The ringing stopped. "Okay who needed you that bad, I'm curious now." JJ spoke up, his thrusts getting slower causing you to groan. You reach over to the side table and hand him the phone, not really caring who it was. JJ scoffs. "Call him back." He said fast and with a stern voice. You didn't know who 'he' was, and you were kinda in the middle of something. "JJ we are a little busy it can wait." You try to take the phone from him to put down but he doesn't budge. "Call. Him. Back." He said with a gravel tone. "No!" After I yell I feel him slam back into me causing me to become a moaning mess. Suddenly I hear a voice from the phone. "Hey Y/N, I wanted to s-" the voice got cut off by JJ. "Do you hear that Rafe? The most beautiful sounds- mmmmm- to ever hear." "Oh fuck-" I couldn't control my words. "Yeah you like taking my big cock while this dickhead is on the phone huh? *slaps my ass and starts pounding into me harder* Come on baby, don't hold back, put on a show for this pathetic bitch." He started going faster which caused me so much pleasure, I couldn't help it. "Oh fuck daddy, -mmmm- don't stop!" My eyes were crossing and I started to bounce back on his dick. JJ pulled me back by my hair and put the phone up to my ear. "Tell him baby. Who do you belong to? Who fucks you so good?" "You do JJ!" I responded while shutting my eyes. "Mmm- oh fuck baby, your pussy is so fucking tight." "I'll call you back later Y/N, seems like you're-" Rafe said over the phone. "D-don't go, mmm fuck JJ, just like that, just like that daddy." I moaned out, mostly for JJ but somewhat uncontrollably. I heard Raf hang up so I dropped my phone on the ground. "Oh fuck fuck fuck, don't fucking stop." I cried out, my legs began to shake as my orgasm took over me. Not long after, JJ followed with his own orgasm. I could feel him pulsing inside me as we both giggled about what we just did. "So daddy huh? that's new" He teased. "Oh shut up, like you didn't just call Rafe while you fucked me!" He laughed in response. "That's because he's trying to get in your pants! I just wanted to let him know where he stands, and now he'll always remember that, you. *kisses my forehead* are. *kisses my nose* mine. *kisses my lips, which starts to get a little heated*. "Wanna call Kelce next?" I rolled my eyes and continued kissing him.
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stanfanfiction · 8 months
Text
Taste of You - Ken x fem!reader - PART 4.5 (BONUS)
So I had initially planned to have a double dom!/sub! Chapter where Ken and the reader switched roles halfway through, but I decided I wanted them separate despite them happening back to back. SOO if you haven’t read the first part you can find it in my Masterlist, otherwise have fun and I hope you enjoy <3
Warnings: 18+ ONLY / smuttyyy smut / fingering / dom! Ken / desperate Ken / praise k!nk / / smut / reader might be slowly losing her mind but she’s fine with it / kinda some non-con but reader is into it / spanking / edging / overstimming / this one goes harder than any of the chapters before so, if that might be intimidating or possibly triggering for you, tread softly. Always take care of yourself first <3
Alrighty. Have fun, besties. 🖤🖤
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“Hey.”
Ken's voice broke through your sleep, and you blinked your eyes open. The room was bright with the day's sunlight, and you had a moment of struggle to come to, you had been so deeply asleep.
The moment your eyes adjusted, you looked up and saw Ken beside you, kneeling, his cock looking painfully hard and a smirk on his face. You attempted to move but realized your wrists were bound above your head tightly, and you saw Ken's fist clenched around a leather belt in his right hand. You sucked in air sharply, already overwhelmed when you hadn't even been fully awake a whole minute ago.
Ken leaned over you now, your mind racing as he stared down at you, kissing you lovingly before nipping at your lower lip and running the belt gently up your thigh.
"Now," his words made you already want to tremble, "it's my turn."
You tried to sit up but he had definitely made sure your restraints wouldn’t budge, and your mind raced on how to get out of this, not being ready for anything this quick after waking up.
Ken *was* ready though, and he ran the belt from up your thigh to your stomach, and you squirmed.
“What word do I need to listen for to stop?” He said, voice husky, his face inches from yours as he leaned on his arm next to you.
“Ken -“
“Not that one, I won’t allow it. I *want* to hear you say that.”
“No, no, Ken, I need you to let me out for a little while.”
He watched you and you pleaded with your eyes. “Please? Just let me wake up a moment, get some water?”
He ponded for a second but then agreed, untying your wrists and you sighed when you had your hands back to yourself. “Thank you.”
Ken helped you off the bed and trailed behind as you went to the kitchen for a drink. You were having a bit of a deer-in-the-headlights moment, kind of self conscious and not quite sure how to react to Ken right now, who, despite always having a bit of a rough side to him during sex lately, seemed like he was going to go way harder than before. Which you liked but you *were* actually anxious at not knowing what all he had in mind, and the fact that he might have developed a playful vendetta after last night.
You jumped a little after filling your cup with water, turning around to see him standing so close to you, you weren’t sure how you didn’t brush against him when you turned. He wore his black denim pants - the ones you had told him you thought made his ass look the best - and was shirtless, like usual.
He nodded towards your glass impatient. “Drink.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Mmmm, okay, well work faster,” he reached for you and tickled your waist a little while smiling, which made you laugh and jump and you spilled the water on both of you, but mostly on Ken.
He smiled and let out a small chuckle, then wrapped his fingers in your hair and brought your face forward to his now wet chest. “Drink.”
You looked up at him through your lashes, feeling playful. “And what if I refuse?”
He cocked his head. “I don’t remember giving you the option of ‘No.’” He pulled your face to his skin and you licked up one of his pecs where the water was still dripping off. Ken inhaled sharply, eyes closing for a moment as he let himself experience your mouth on his body. You kept your eyes on his face as you slowly worked your way down his abs, kissing and licking any trickles of water left, and Ken moaned quietly, keeping his hand in your hair.
You reached for his cock but the moment your hand touched it, he grabbed your wrist, eyes open and looking down at you now.
“I didn’t say you could do that.”
Well THIS was definitely new, but you decided to have fun with it. You smirked as you leaned forward to to take him in your mouth but instead Ken tugged on your hair, encouraging you to stand up. You looked at him and pretended to pout. You saw him soften a bit, especially his eyes, and he had the look he always got before he would tenderly pleasure you for what seemed like hours until you would drift off together. You reached for his cock again, though, and that seemed to snap him out of it, like he remembered what it was he had planned to do.
“I said, I didn’t give you permission to do that,” he said in your ear as he folded both of your arms behind your back, elbows bent, both of your arms being held together by his large hand. He began marching you back to the bedroom briskly, forcing you chest-first onto the bed, bent over with your feet still on the floor.
“Ken,” you giggled. “What are you planning to -“ you were cut off with a sharp pain on your ass, Ken having smacked you unexpectedly with the belt. You screamed when he did it again before you could take a breath, Ken holding you down onto the bed, his grip around your arms bruising.
“You gonna be a good girl for me?” He purred, and the sound of him repeating his praises back to you made you knees buckle.
You shook just a little from the sudden assault, shocked at how much you actually were enjoying it. You wondered if you should play along or tease him, and the latter got the better of you. You turned your head as best as you could in your current position, your eyes twinkling as they met his.
“What if I don’t want to?”
You saw a hint of amusement in Ken’s eye before he brought the belt down on you again, and you jumped, back arching from the mixture of pleasure and pain.
Ken leaned over you now, his partial body weight pushing you further into the bed. “That’s alright. I’ll just have to make you.”
You moaned loudly at his words and Ken stood again, continuing his lashing from before. You were trembling a little when he hit the fourth lash, and your knees buckled by the sixth, the sensation so much sharper and intense than it was when he’d use his hand.
“Ken, please -“ you choked out as the belt came down again, and he paused, hearing the way your voice cracked a little.
He leaned down over you again, hand still holding your arms hostage. “So you gonna be good for me, y/n?”
You nodded, unhappy with how quickly you had relented, but also desperately needing some time to recover.
“Mmmm,” Ken hummed, smiling, and gently placing a kiss on your ear. “I love you so much, y/n.”
You breathed as a warmth filled your chest as he stood up, then landed two more harsh lashes on your ass. You screamed, and he released your arms finally, you grasping the covers to hold onto something but also to deal with the pain.
Ken took both of you ass cheeks in his hands and massaged them gently, admiring his work, watching your body tremble and hearing the little whimpers coming out of your mouth.
He gave you a moment to recover, your head spinning, as he forced open your legs with his own, standing between them. He held your hips while he kissed softly down your back, enjoying the little shivers that happened because of his touch, and once you had calmed down a little, he stood up again.
You felt the belt run alongside your vulva and you clenched. “Oh, shit, Ken, no, please not -“
“Shhhh, shhhh,” he soothed. “Not this time. Just wanted to see your reaction.”
You felt one of his fingers enter you then, his other hand holding down your lower back.
“No moving,” he said, and you bit into the sheets beneath you to maintain some form of mental control as he immediately found your special spot and began rubbing his finger in circles on it. He added in another after a moment, and you left out a soft moan but remained as motionless as you could.
“You’re actually way better at this than I was,” he mused. “I actually prefer you moving all you like.” He leaned over your again, kissing the side of your neck. “I just wanted to see how well you could obey.”
“I’ll get you back,” you exhaled shakily as Ken’s fingers sped up, pressing into your spot *just* right.
Ken smiled against your hair and kissed the side of your head. “I’ll look forward to that,” he said, continuing finger fucking you until he knew you were close.
You expected him to edge you on like you had to him, but right when you were about to climax he added in a third finger and fucked in and out of you *so* perfectly that you cried into the covers as you came, Ken humming and complimenting you the whole time.
“You’re so good to me. You stretch around my fingers so perfectly, y/n. Always cumming to make me happy. Always letting me do whatever I want with you.”
Your exhaled loudly as you were coming down, still mildly dizzy from so much sensation so quickly, but before you could ground yourself fully, Ken kneeled between your legs and held you open for him, firmly licking a stripe from your clit up to your opening.
You gasped, feeling incredibly sensitive and you struggled against his hold.
“Need a moment,” you begged, trying to pull yourself away, but Ken didn’t let up, talking to you in between sucking and licking and little nips.
“I don’t remember you letting up when you were trying to exhaust me,” he said cheekily, and if you’d had the energy you’d have kicked him away.
“My sweet y/n can take whatever I give her, right?”
“Shut up,” you groaned, slowly losing the ability to control your body.
“You’re so wet for me.” He put three fingers back in you for emphasis, and you cried out, bucking into them unintentionally thus causing them to penetrate you deeper.
“I can’t…I can’t, please, ah…” Your voice was losing its usual volume and quivered on the last moan.
“I think you can.” Ken sucked hard on your clit again, and you sobbed, begging him to give you a break until your legs gave out and Ken caught you effortlessly, all fight left in you gone.
“How does it feel to be exhausted by your lover?” He purred into your ear, your naked body limp in his arms as he sat you onto his lap on the bed. “How does it feel to be completely under my control?”
Your head lolled back onto his shoulder, and you moaned an answer incoherently. Ken turned your chin gently to him and kissed you deeply.
You felt yourself being picked up bridal-style and placed down onto the bed, your head resting on the pillows, your body relaxing into the mattress. You opened your eyes as Ken lowered himself on top of you, propping up on his forearms, and running his fingers along your face, kissing you tenderly.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled into your mouth. “So perfect. You always let me get lost in you. I love it so much.”
Your brain and body started feeling connected again after awhile, Ken loving on you gently the entire time, making sure you felt surrounded by him.
You sighed in relief when you felt fully back to reality, despite some sleepiness settling in. You laced your hands behind his neck, and returned the soft smile that he gave you.
“Hi.”
He kissed your forehead. “Hi. How are you feeling?”
“Tired.”
“But good?”
You giggled. “Yes, good.”
He smiled bigger. “Good.” He took your hands in his. “I”m going to need these.”
“Ohhhh god, oh, god, uh, Ken, Ken wait, can we talk about -“
Ken had already tightly imprisoned your hands in the pantyhose rope you had made the night before, and was fastening them to the headboard before you had a chance to physically react.
You tugged at the restraints, and Ken looked down upon you lying there, helpless and flushed beneath him. His pupils were blown and your stomach flipped - oh, fuck, he was *SO* turned on right now.
“Ken, take it easy on me?” You squeaked as he grabbed your hips roughly. He kneeled in front of you and lifted your hips up so your knees hung over his shoulders, your vulva directly in front of his face. He was so tall that you were partially lying upside down, your bound hands making it impossible for you to push or balance yourself on anything.
He winked at you - motherfucker WINKED - and then his mouth was on you, your hip bones held tightly, and you shuddered intensely as he began devouring you roughly.
Ken watched you, trying to ignore how much his cock was hurting right now from straining against its skin, your entire being fully under his power. Your eyes were shut and the noises you were making were spectacular, and he loved how stretched out you were between the restraints and his grip. The only control you really had over yourself right now was what you could say because your body was already so tired that you couldn’t even try to get your legs off of his shoulder.
“So fucking sweet,” he said, pulling his mouth back just long enough for you to get in a deep breath, and then he was consuming you again, tongue gliding and poking and tickling every inch of you he could find. You yelped when you felt his lips suck harshly on your inner thigh, knowing he had marked you, and then shook when he repeated it on the other leg before dipping his tongue back into you.
“Ken,” you started begging again. “Please.” Your voice was becoming a little hoarse, you had lost all track of time and had no clue how long this had been going on.
“Yes, y/n?” He breathed dreamily, like he was in heaven, going back to lazily circling your clit with his tongue.
“I can’t-“
“Yes, you can, and you will. You still owe me one more after this one.”
Your eyes shot open. “One..one more?”
His eyes shone, his mouth still on you, and he winked again.
Something about all of that - the sudden knowing that he wasn’t going to stop until you’d climaxed three times?!, the look of pure adoration on his face being buried in you, and how hot this entire scenario actually was despite how dizzy and exhausted you were - hit at once and you came hard. You hadn’t expected it and you cried out loudly while Ken continued pleasuring you until you began to come down again, heaving loudly, tiny sobs escaping your lips as your eyes leaked.
Ken lowered your hips back to the bed and kissed you deeply, your juices mixing with his saliva, and his tongue ran against yours and your lower lip. He moaned into you loudly, cradling the back of your head with his hand until your breathing calmed and he stopped kissing long enough to look down at you.
“You’re doing so good.”
Tears definitely began coming now. “Please, Ken, I can’t do anymore right now.”
His face showed that he knew you weren’t playing, and that he cared deeply. “I won’t hurt you.”
You nodded, sniffling a little. “I know, I’m just….I wasn’t expecting this much.”
He kissed you deeply again, just one time, and smiled down at you. “I won’t do anymore until you’re ready.”
To your surprise, he reached up and untied your hands, kissing each one as he let them free, then kissing around your wrists where the minor imprints from the hose had rubbed in a little too tightly.
“Ken,” you breathed, “can we like, do the last one later?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I said I won’t do anymore until you’re ready.”
“What if I’m not ready until like, later tonight?”
He smirked. “I don’t think that’ll be the case.”
“Ken.” You squirmed underneath him, and unfortunately your hips moved into his *just right,* because his eyes closed and he groaned from the back of his throat.
“You’re making it really hard to let you recover,” he almost huffed, his eyes dark, and the way he was looking down at you gave you the most intense, weirdly submissive desire you had ever felt. His broad shoulders attached to his slightly strained neck, his chiseled arms and pecs and abs around you, on top of you, those blue eyes dangerously dark, his hair looking that perfect just-woke-up messy.
You whimpered at the sight and the feeling of him, just…everywhere around you, and he sucked in a sharp breath hearing you. You knew all hope was lost then.
“Ken,” you whispered, your hand cradling his face the way he loved, and he leaned into it and hummed the same way he always did. “Just…please be gentle.”
“I’ve got you.” Ken pulled you a little father down the bed, just below where your head touched the pillows, and unzipped his jeans, ridding himself of them quickly. You weren’t sure if you had ever seen his member looking that strained before, and you shuddered, trying to prepare yourself. He towered over you as he pulled both of your legs up and apart, resting your ankles by his face so as he bent over you, your legs were being pushed back to leave you completely open for him.
You had the slightest moment of panic, from where you weren’t sure, other than you had never been this overwhelmed from sex before.
“Please don’t hurt me.” The words escaped your mouth before you knew it, and a tear streamed down your cheek.
Ken looked at you, forcing his face to calm down so you saw him as he always wanted you to see him, as someone who loved you. He kissed right above one of your ankles. “I would never hurt you.”
He wanted to take you then, bury his cock into you roughly and you would scream his name is ecstacy and you would cum trembling and falling apart completely and you would adore how he could make you feel this way, but he paused, realizing you needed a little more care before he could continue.
Hooking your knees over his shoulders again, he lowered himself over you, and you gripped the sheets, waiting for him to penetrate you. Instead, he took one of your nipples into his mouth softly, moaning as his lips just barely sucked on it, his tongue tracing circles around it that made you shiver, but he watched you as the tiniest of smiles ghosted across your face, your eyes closed, and he knew he was on the right track.
Your moans sounded so soft and sweet as he did this to your other nipple, your body relaxing and after a bit your hands running through his hair, which *he* loved.
Your breathing returned to normal, he touched his forehead to yours. You opened your eyes and immediately became lost in his.
“Hi.”
You giggled a little. “Hi.”
He watched you closely as he lowered his hips into yours, his cock rubbing alongside your vulva, and you jerked the tiniest bit from the sensation.
“How is that?” He asked, doing it again, a little harder.
He was going to wait for your reply but wanted to test something. “Think you can take it for me, like a good girl?”
He was enthralled when your mouth dropped open a little, your sex-dazed face looking so ready to be fucked, and he contemplated fucking into your mouth for a moment before forcing his mind back into focus.
“Can you handle just a little more?” He pressed his tip into your opening, and you automatically clenched tightly, causing a deep rumble in his chest.
His eyes met yours, dangerous, almost past the point of no return. “You ready to prove who you fucking belong to?”
Your eyes went wide as he bottomed out in with a single thrust and you both moaned in unison, your nails digging into his arms, your head back.
Ken leaned down to suck on your throat right before his second thrust, as swift and harsh as the first, and he swore if he didn’t want to make certain you came again that he would lose it within a matter of seconds. You pulsed around him, so warm and tight, and he growled as he began to fuck into you, making every thrust count, as you cried out every time he bottomed out into you, leveraging your legs so you were unable to do anything other than lay there and try to breathe.
“Ken,” your mangled cry caught his attention but he didn’t stop his movements.
“Need more, y/n? Need some more, like my good girl?”
He leveraged himself above you so instead of your hips meeting horizontally, he pushed your legs back so your hips were slightly off the bed and you were held open for him to sink into almost vertically.
He sunk directly into you, your legs straight and resting on his shoulders, his hands on either side of you holding himself up, and you screamed and fisted the sheets over your head.
Your body began to tremble now, and you had no control over it as the pain of being penetrated so deeply got mixed with how fucking *GOOD* it felt too, and watching Ken being the one to do this to you whenever you felt you could keep your eyes open for a moment made it all the better.
You *did* feel really overwhelmed, though. The dizziness from before had returned and was slowly threatening to take over completely.
You must have shown signs of distress because you heard Ken speaking over you, although not letting up on his thrusts. “Hey,” he soothed, “are you okay?”
“I’m…overstimulated..” you choked.
“Mmmmm…” Ken ponders this, leaning down so his hips were literally touching your own. “Do you need me to stop?”
You shook your head quicker than you had expected to, and if you had been looking you would have seen Ken smile. You felt his hot breath caress your ear before biting your lobe.
“You can take it for me, though, can’t you?”
If you had been asked to describe the next few minutes you were never would have been able to, as your senses became thrown into what you could only describe as chaos. Ken fucked you, held you, sucked on you until you were shaking uncontrollably, your voice hoarse. You swore you heard him speaking but couldn’t make out any of the worlds, your head swam so dizzingly with trying to comprehend the overstimulation.
Tears fell down your face when your orgasm hit, and you screamed to be able to get through it. You might have made it up but later on you thought you remembered hearing Ken whispering, “I love you, fuck, I love you so much, y/n. Fall apart for me,” as your body was racked with pleasure so intense it touched on being painful.
Ken immediately came after, his final few thrusts destroying you as he finally lowered your legs back onto the bed. He kept his cock buried inside of you as he lowered himself back over you, forearms on either side of your head again, and kissed you and praised you endlessly as he surrounded your trembling body.
“I’ll get you back, you fucker.” Your words were hoarse and breathy.
Ken laughed at your threat, and you managed a small smile despite your exhaustion. “I know you will,” he said, nuzzling his nose into yours.
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373 notes · View notes
lemmetreatya · 11 months
Note
Miss ma'am, Miss ma'am, I am back with another thought like it could be a lil blurd or whatever, but do you think Onyankopon got any fetish or kinks? I kinda believe he got a feet kink like the nigga loves LOVES a woman with nice ass feet and it don't matter if the feet are a size 4 or a size 13 - HE LOVES FEET! Like I can just image he's hitting it missionary style and he done hooked your legs over his muscular, chocolate shoulders and he catches sight of the gold and silver ankle bracelet he gifted you with his name on it (just cause he's cute like tht) and then his eyes are traveling to your feet and you feel him gets bigger inside of you and suddenly he's pounding you stupid cause you're just squeezing him but really it's cause he's making out with your toes, bitting the pinky toe and everything and it's so nasty and sensual that you squirt bout 3 times in a row but he's not complaining cause all that means is tht he gets to clean you up... sorry for the rant but what are your thoughts?
GIIRRRLLLLLL!!!! ykw?! it’s actually crazy because literally yesterday i was thinking that this man has a foot kink. and i never thought or looked towards a foot kink in my liiiffeee but i just know this man has it on LAWK!!
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word count: 1.5k
content: afab!reader, smut, foot kink, missionary, biting, squirting, overstimulation, petnames
onyankopon loves giving you princess treatment.
we not just talking splashing big bucks on foot pedicures and spas but he just allllllways has an inclination to look after you. whether that be massaging your feet whilst you’re both laid up on the couch, his hand always finding your inner thighs during outings — heck he even be buying you those anklets and toe rings that rocky be getting for rihanna.
naturally, youd think that this was just onyankopon’s way of showing affection. but its when that man was laid up on you just underneath the covers that you realise that this was probably a bit more than just princess treatment.
“c’mere” hed mumble just above you as his arms hook underneath your thighs.
you already looked at onyankopon like he had galaxies in his eyes but its the way he always knew how to deal with you accordingly that made you weak.
“you always look so pretty like this baby, you know that?”
onyankopon continues to fuck into you at a moderate pace but now he has your knees by your ears as he uses most of his body weight to keep you folded. he bends down to give you a small peck on your lips but then takes one of your feet in hand to kiss just at the sole of your foot.
you wiggle your toes at him in small jest, a juvenile joke of some sort, but it only causes onyankopon to kiss at your feet more.
“that tickles…”
you breathe out, eyes intricately attracted to the way his lips lift off your toes as he gives it several kisses.
“mmmm.” the reply he gives is lazy, half potted, hummed. but there’s more than just galaxies behind his eyes now, there’s sensuality involved, there’s cosmoses forming.
the subtle change in onyankopon’s strokes are different. hes no longer slanging in and out of you for the pedantry of sex. there’s a switch; where suddenly he’s aiming for something thats dressed a lot like pleasure but is painted with a different face. onyankopon bends one of his knees besides you, giving himself some leverage, but now hes so intentional with how his lips praise your feet but his eyes dance over your face.
“you real pretty like this, princess.” he says again, but this time you have different answers.
“you talkin’ to me or my feet?”
you joke, your breathing not even in a good enough condition to laugh but the airy muse comes out anyways.
however, the phrase doesn’t land well with onyankopon. you can tell with how his eyes darken, with how the cosmos turn sinister and the galaxies erupt, that you were in nothing but trouble.
“watch your mouth.” is the growl that leaves his throat and that’s when everything turns inside out.
suddenly, onyankopon is speeding up his pistoning, cock growing heavier by the second as he latches your big toe inside of his mouth. its wet and its warm. not something you’d usual be akin to but its sensual enough that your moans come out pornographic.
“f-fuck…” you cry out — the change was unexpected!
onyankopon makes good effort to use your ankles as stirring posts for himself as he makes himself at home within your dewy cunt. you can tell he plans to unleash something hes never done before. his eyes told you. the way they were vividly burning with years worth of repressed expression and intent was everything you needed to know.
onyankopon unlatches his mouth from your foot.
“gonna leave you feeling…hoping you never said shit to me.” he half spits. not it malice though. no, onyankopon never spoke to you with any ill intent, but his words were venomously laced.
“o-o-ony, i..im sor’wy.”
you near cry because you’ve never felt this opened up into before, but onyankopon only leaves a bite with your toe before focusing his attention on your other foot, his lips now pressing against that one, as a reply.
but with onyankopon jackhammering into you and your lack of control in being able to squeeze your feet, everything felt so lose and so open and —
before you’re able to give a warning your squirting over onyankopon’s cock, slightly colder liquid spilling out of you every time onyankopon pulled backwards.
the man only curses slightly at your surprise, your feet planted against his cheek as he checks out your mess but it doesn’t stop him! if anything, he begins to thrust with more passion
“fuuuck, im gonna—shit!— now, im really gonna… give you sumn… to be sorry bout!”
now you can only but squeal in overstimulation, the man’s shit eating grin wide as he hyperfocuses on drilling your cunt with his cock. all you can do is whine into your arm as you let your head fall to the side.
it felt uncomfortable but in a good way because you know you had more in you and so did onyankopon.
“come on baby. need you to squirt on my dick again. gotta have you make a bigger mess, huh?”
“o-oa-o-on..nyyyy!”
words can barely leave your mouth at this point. you cant even twinkle your toes as a stim because onyankopon’s either got his mouth or hand on them. your pinkies shiny with spit, legs sticky with your cum, and now your cheeks prickling with tears of peak overstimulation via a second orgasm.
onyankopon pulls out now that you’re squirting again so that he can wash his dick with your cum. he suckles on your toes as he lays his dick against the fat of your pussy lips, your cries like music to his ears.
“eurrrgh. fuck you’re something else.” he moans over your toes but you’re too blazed out to even reply.
heart jerking whimpers leave your throat as you lay completely fucked out beneath onyankopon. the man can only look over you with a dreamy grin, the galaxies in his eyes having calmed down but now birthed with new stars and systems.
“still with me, bubba?” onyankopon lays a kiss to the sole of one of your feet before leaving his face plant against it.
you whine as an initial reply, your head reeling straight to look at him but you then realise you cant lift your head much more and so let it fall back down against the pillow.
“baby, i cant…do no more.”
as understanding as ever, onyankopon nods before leaning forwards to plant a kiss to the apple of your cheek.
“that’s okay. leave the rest to me.” which was ironic of him to say, concerning you’d done nothing but be a pillow princess the whole time.
when onyankopon slides back into your fermenting cunt, it’s an easy fit — like wearing a well melded leather glove — but you’re so sensitive that the sensation is overloading your senses.
“onyyyy”
is what you whine out. its not for him to stop but you definitely know your limits close.
“i know, i know.”
onyankopon himself seems to be closing in too because his groans are so evident now, gruff and present as he jiffers into your ear.
“gon’ sleep good tonight, mamas. gon put you right to bed.”
now hes talking like how he usually does, concerned for your wellbeing, making sure you’re being treated right. but you notice how even though his face was buried by your neck, his hand made effort to stretch out along your leg and to your foot.
you think hes gonna lift up to suck at them again but he doesn’t. instead, he just aimlessly plays with the individual toes.
as soon as he does that, his breath starts to fasten and his hips becoming more bucky in movement. onyankopon kisses at your jawline with small peppery pecks but you can tell hes nearing his limit. you help stimulate him by using your other feet to feel at his back. nothing too much concerning he was still pressing into you with a majority of his presence but you just rub at his back with the sole and heel of your foot.
“oh, fuck, fuck, fuck…”
onyankopon’s thrusts become bunny like — rutty, half executed and clearly a sign of an impending orgasm.
your hand comes up to then pet at the back of his neck as you sultry moan into his ear.
“fuck, yes daddy. yeah fuck me just like that.” which seems to be enough to send him over the edge.
onyankopon calls out your name like his life depends on it before he’s pulling out — almost too late — and spurting his load onto the creases of your stomach. the man lets out a low moan as he jerks himself off on top of you, milking everything he’d experience to the last drop.
both your breathings are laboured, time and energy clearly well spent. but as onyankopon comes down from his high, you can only kitten stroke the back of his head.
“you needa start fucking me like that more often, shit…”
onyankopon but airily laughs as he looks up at you with a grin. the galaxies in his eyes are brighter than ever.
“don’t worry, i will be.” he chides, his smile wide.
723 notes · View notes
forever-rogue · 2 years
Note
I desperately need something where reader is kinda having a body worship moment with Eddie over his lil waist? 🫣like, she’s placing kisses/love bites all over his torso while he lets out breathing moans/whimpers. maybe a few laughs bc he’s ticklish and involuntarily body/hip twitches from all the touching?
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AN | You wanted some soft, sweet body worship? You get some! Enjoy 🥰
Warnings | None
Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 1.9k
Masterlist | Main, Eddie
Your Turn
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The boy was sprawled out on the bed underneath you, eyes closed and bottom lip worried between his teeth. You were beaming at him, despite the fact that he couldn’t see you. You were straddling his waist, hands holding his and fingers delicately laced together as you took your time to make him fall apart. Judging from the blissed out look on his face, you were already succeeding.
“You’re so pretty, honey boy,” you pulled one of your hands from his and brought it to his face, ghosting the tips of your fingers over the contours of his handsome features. He opened his eyes slowly and his heart almost stopped at the sight of you watching him with nothing short of pure adoration etched all over your own face, “such pretty, soft brown eyes. Nice, soft plush lips that were made for kissing.”
“Only for kissin’ you,” he managed to murmur as you traced your thumb along his full bottom lip.
“Duh,” you teased as you brought your hand to your own lips, pressed a kiss to your fingers before pressing back to his own, “you’re all mine, Eddie Munson. And I’m all yours.”
"Mmmm," he hummed in content as you ran your hand through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. He practically keened into your touch as you untangled some of his roguish waves. He'd let you wash his hair earlier when you'd showered together, practically melting into a puddle at the feeling of you working magic with your fingers.
"I love your hair," you whispered, as you admired the shiny, soft dark locks. You secretly hoped that he would never change it, no matter how old you both grew, "its so pretty. I wanna braid it later. May I?"
"You can do whatever you'd like, angel," his entire body was humming with warm energy under your display of love.
"Just what I like to hear," you leaned down to kiss him, pressing gentle, barely there kisses to the apples of cheeks, forehead, chin, and nose before stopping at his lips, "so soft and lovely."
“You’re teasing,” he huffed lightly as you giggled at him, nudging your nose against his, “angel.”
“I am not teasing,” you insisted softly, “I am just taking my sweet time lovin’ on you. Is that okay, honey boy?”
“Y-yeah,” he swallowed thickly as you dragged your lips across his jaw. You could feel the fervent pitter-patter of his heart under your palm, as you lavished him in attention. He so rarely asked for anything, but he always gave and gave and gave. But tonight you had turned the tables, and decided that you were going to give him all of the love you possessed in your body. 
You focused your attention on his glorious neck, kissing the skin and making sure to leave your mark in the form of love bites over as much of him as possible. You knew he loved leaving his signature behind on you, and you wanted everyone to know he was yours just as much. He made a small sound in the back of his throat as you soothed the soft bites with your tongue. 
“Taste so good,” you whispered into his ear, “oh my love, you are everything and more to me.”
“I love you,” he turned his face to yours so he could press a soft kiss to your lips, “my angel.”
“I love you,” you promised before slowly moving to straddle him again. You tugged on the hem of his well loved and worn t-shirt, silently asking for permission to take it off. He nodded slowly and you pushed the fabric up his torso, smiling when he leaned up so you could pull it off his frame and toss it to the side, “delicious.”
You raked your fingers over his chest, taking a moment to trace over the tattoos into his skin. The most recent one was a small heart with your initials placed under his left collarbone. You thought he had been joking when he mentioned getting it, but when he’d come home and proudly displayed it to you, your heart almost burst with affection and adoration. You gently touched the soft bits of hair on his chest and trail that started below his belly button and disappeared into the waistband of his gray joggers. 
You traced an invisible line with the tip of your finger from one freckle to the next that littered his torso. You heard a small giggle as he squirmed lightly under your touch; it was a pretty sound that you loved pulling from him, “I forgot you were so ticklish, baby. Want me to stop?”
“N-no,” you met his eyes and found excited, big brown orbs staring at you, “like it when you touch me.”
“Oh, trust me, I know that,” you grinned before blowing a raspberry into the crook of his shoulder which only caused him to laugh even harder, “stay still, baby.”
“‘m trying,” he insisted breathlessly, “you’re playing dirty.”
“Oh, I can play dirtier,” you promised, “trust me.”
You placed wet kisses along his collarbones, trailing them down his chest. His hands were at his side, clutching at the blanket as you took your time with him. This might have been your favorite spot in the world, and part of you wished this night would never have to end. Working your way down his body, you stopped when you were laying between his spread legs, resting your head on his thigh, “you’re such a view, Eds.”
“So are you,” there was a bit of that teasing lilt back to his voice as a lazy little smile tugged up the corners of his mouth, “especially when you’re down there like that.”
“Cheeky,” you grazed your fingers over his waistband of his sweats before pulling them down ever so slightly to expose his hips. When you pressed kisses to his hip bones, you could almost feel him shuddering under your touch, “nothing to say now?”
He moaned softly as you pulled the joggers and his legs, leaving him clad in only his plaid boxers. You raked your fingers over his legs, using your nails to tickle him lightly as he squirmed and laughed. Wrapping a hand around his ankle, you pulled his leg up so you could press kisses there. You repeated the action on his other leg. Eventually you made your way back up his body, lying on top of him and clinging onto him like a koala. 
“Hi,” his chuckle was soft in your ear as he wrapped his arms around you, “you’re so warm and soft.”
“So are you,” you pulled back for a moment and looked down at him, “you’re my best friend, Eddie. I hope you know how much I love you.”
“You’re my best friend too,” his smile was magical; wide, toothy, and dimple displaying. You weren’t sure how anyone could resist falling in love with him as soon as they saw him smile, “and you’re so smart, so kind, so funny, and so fuckin’ pretty.”
“Hey,” you touched his face softly, “this is supposed to me loving you, not the other way around. But, I love you for all the same things and then some. You are everything to me, Eddie Munson. And that is never going to change.”
“Never,” he agreed, before slowly shifting your bodies so you were lying underneath him. He leaned down and kissed you, “my turn.”
“Eddie.”
“Please, angel, let me love you,” and how could you ever say no to him? 
“Okay,” you smiled at him, “I love you.”
“Love you more.”
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roseharpermaxwell · 4 months
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RWRB FirstPrince AU Recs - Part Two
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I'm such a fan of an AU, and I love how many there are in FirstPrince. Any situation you can put Alex and Henry in, I'm here for it.
Here are many of my favorites so far, 10k+ words. Give the authors some love and let me know if you find something you adore!
And they call it— by @clottedcreamfudge. T, 10k. "You're late, but at least you're wearing a more interesting tie this time," The Dog Sitter says as he opens the door, leaning against the doorframe like he's a GQ model and not a law student slash dog whisperer. Henry's mouth feels incredibly dry.
"Mishap with my socks," he says, then immediately wants to throw himself into oncoming traffic. "I mean, I didn't have any trouble getting them on or anything — I'm perfectly capable of dressing myself."
"Good to know," The Dog Sitter says, looking amused and devastatingly attractive, as always. "David get ahold of them again? He looks at mine like I look at freshly-brewed coffee."
"Yes," Henry says, relieved. "Yes, exactly that."
Creative Differences by @sparklepocalypse. E, 10k. Zahra tilts her head at him, a contemplative expression on her face. “How attached are you to the notion of being a solo artist?”
(AU; Alex is a failed solo musician and Henry's band needs a lead singer.)
Dick, Dick, Dick (You Down) by @everwitch-magiks. E, 10k. It is a truth universally acknowledged that Henry Fox is an absolute dick.
Henry Fox is an A-list movie star, Alex is in charge of the craft services trailer on Henry’s new romcom, and Alex just might be the only person on the crew who has his doubts about the world’s unfavorable assumptions about Henry. Why would Henry be a dick just because he doesn’t stop to talk to his fans every time they crowd him? Henry Fox is probably like most people: not his best self every second of his goddamn life, but decent on the whole.
As filming gets underway, Alex learns both how right and how wrong he is. Henry Fox, much like Alex’s well-stocked buffet at crafty, is a goddamn snack — but he’s definitely not like most people.
(Alex doesn’t feel this specific way about most people.)
You Came Out of Nowhere (And You Cut through All the Noise) by @affectionatelyrs. E, 10k. Alex starts to feel worse about how he reacted to the man earlier — he’s usually all bark and no bite, but how is the bartender supposed to know that? Alex can be snarky, but he’s never cruel.
Allowing his lips to quirk up into a small smile, he replies “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you, really.”
“Well,” he says with a smirk, “in the event that you are lying to me simply to placate our earlier interaction, my shift ends in 15 minutes. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to stick around to chat with a perfect stranger?”
Alex’s brain stutters for a moment at his facade being so transparent that it's all he can do to stutter out a “Yeah—um, yeah. Okay, sure.” Maybe he also gets stuck on the words perfect stranger, and the immediate thought of mmmm, perfect indeed that pops up in his brain as a result. He chooses to ignore that as well.
Or, Alex is feeling insecure after a bad date - Henry shows him that he doesn't have to be
Controlled Experiment by clottedcreamfudge. E, 10k. Basically, what it boils down to is this; Alex is mostly sober when he says - to a group of people he barely knows - "Yeah, I might be a little queer, but who knows? I'd kinda like to experiment though, y'know?"
This statement, which is actually something he's thought about a lot, is met by general bobbing of heads, in the kind of bros-trying-to-be-chill way that usually happens when a bunch of straight guys are trying very hard to be non-toxic. That is to say, it's kind of awkward, but they get mad props for trying.
The only person who isn't nodding is Henry, Pez's best friend and the only known gay man in this circle of people. Alex has no clue about the others, but he knows Henry's gay because Pez once introduced him as, "the most handsome man in all of Christendom — and before you ask, no we've never shagged, which is a damn shame. Not for lack of trying on my part, of course, but Henry's one of those gays who thinks it's bad manners to get drunk and have an inadvisable fumble with your best friend for larks."
kiss my collarbone, found my archetype by uptownwarblerr5. E, 10k. English literature teacher Henry starts a new job, and immediately meets law teacher Alex (and in the process, becomes a little bit obsessed). Alex is a clueless bisexual disaster as per usual. Nora and Pez love their stupid friends. Zahra wants to go home.
Arts and Minds by @orchidscript. T, 11k. Henry felt like he was holding the shreds of his career and dignity all in one. The most profound interaction between Henry and the colleague he respected the most – had respected and looked up to since beginning his master’s degree – was now posted online, trending across Twitter, and was now up to 23 million views. Alex showing off and Henry standing there, mouth open like a fish. He wanted to throw up. He wished he had argued back, had said anything. Instead, he had all but swallowed his tongue and sunk back to his laptop, floundering for how to push forward.
23 million views.
Henry should be angry. He wasn’t.
He was going to die of embarrassment. Zahra would make sure of it.
Art history professors go viral, then go to a conference... and there was only one bed ;) 
Fox Repairs (and Basic Construction) by floatingaway4. T, 11k. “Yes, so let me get your details and I’ll come over whenever it’s convenient for you,” says the voice. It’s dark and soft at the same time, kind of...velvety...and Alex curses his brain that can’t ask a simple question but can come up with a thousand adjectives for this guy’s voice.
“My details,” Alex repeats, while his brain is busy flipping through a list of similes that would get him fired if he ever put them into anything official. ‘Like honey...like molasses….like sunshine on a cloudy day…’ Nope, that’s a song lyric. He’d get charged with plagiarism for that one.
All Booked Up by @three-drink-amy. E, 11k. A book tearing up the Bestseller’s List is quickly shoved into Alex’s hands via June and Nora. Despite his resistance, he’s taken in by the book and its whirlwind romance. When Nora insists they all go to a reading with the mysterious author, Alex is drawn in by H. G. Fox, hanging on his every word. When they meet after the signing, it sets him on a path he’d thought was impossible.
Try Me On For Size by everwitch. E, 11k. "Yeah, I might be a little queer, but who knows? I'd kinda like to experiment though, y'know?"
Henry’s carefully orchestrated nonchalance melts away in an instant.
He’d been about to do what he always does at these shindigs when the topic of hypothetical queerness is brought up; come out. In this strange little pocket of humanity — this full-volume version of reality filled with red solo cups and many a youth exploring their sexuality — making his preferences known has always been Henry’s most successful first step on his path towards getting laid. And Henry does, truly, want to get laid tonight; he didn’t spend well over fifteen minutes on his hair for bloody Instagram clout. His discreet but unmistakable rainbow wristband isn’t meant to signify allyship.
The thing is, though, that Henry’s personal gay agenda for the night may just have taken an interesting turn; Alex wants to experiment.
In which Alex does experiment, and Henry is a most willing participant.
we've been here forever (here's the frozen proof) by @onward--upward. T, 12k. Objectively, I am aware that you – a stranger – cannot tell me my own sexuality any better than I can, however... Can you, please? Tell me? It’s 4am and I have been thinking about this for hours, and I can’t sleep.
Warmest regards,
ACD
It’s four in the morning, and Alex Claremont-Diaz has managed to follow a research spiral straight down into a personal crisis. It isn’t the first time.
Kinda think that I might be his type by @kiwiana-writes. E, 12k. “Bea.” He clambers onto his knees, grabbing her hands in his own. “Bea, take me to Thanksgiving with you.”
Bea blinks. Blinks again. “What?”
“Bea, I could terrorise your gran until she’s begging you to stay single forever.”
Or, Alex agrees to be his friend's fake boyfriend for a weekend. He is not prepared for his friend's brother.
Countermelody by @omgcmere. E, 12k. On an old tour bus, tucked into the corner of a bunk bed, there's a bit of wood that gets covered up when the particleboard shifts back and forth on the road. If you catch it just after the bus has gone over the right kind of bump, you can shine a light up and find a message etched there, with the tip of a key or maybe a Swiss Army knife.
Alex discovered it within his first week of the tour. He's never told anyone about it. It says:
RULE #1: DON'T FUCK YOUR BANDMATE
Luckily for him, as a solo artist, he doesn't really have to worry about it.
Alex is opening for Henry on tour and, uh, hates him. A lot.
Elevator buttons and morning air by dollarstoreannabethchase. E, 12k. Last night, Alex hooked up with the most attractive man to ever exist after getting stuck together in the elevator of his apartment complex. He's incredible, but the second day of the job that will make or break his career is not the time to be starting a relationship; even if he kind of wants to scream every time he thinks about Henry. So you can imagine his fucking surprise when he walks into the office the next day and sees none other than his Henry—elevator Henry, blue-eyed, British, dreamy, with thighs for days Henry—standing and talking to Pez. It’s in that moment that it all clicks, and Alex realizes. He’s Henry, as in, Henry, his other boss. Henry, his boss, a.k.a. the man who was on his knees in Alex’s bedroom last night. He is so fucked.
Or: Alex and Henry get stuck in an elevator together; Chaos ensues.
coyote ugly series by @smc-27. E, 12k. The bartender, in his mesh tank top, towel tucked into the back pocket of a pair of jeans, leans on the bar, eyes twinkling, and asks, “What can I get you, sweetheart?”
You Are the Wave I Could Never Tame by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 12k. That should be it. Henry is doing his job; the pool is getting cleaned, and Alex shouldn’t think anything more of it. Then why does he feel the slightest bit of disappointment when he walks back to the pool house and Henry isn’t there?
Or, the pool boy Henry AU that I couldn't stop thinking about until I wrote it.
Count The Stars And Constellations by everwitch. E, 14k. Alex and Henry meet at their first Partner Summit. After a single night of warm smiles and intriguing conversation, Henry is more than ready to follow his heart and enter a Match with Alex. But Alex is not. 
Meet Your Match by allmylovesatonce. E, 14k. Alex had first learned about soulmarks when he was 10. June had just turned 13 and had woken up that morning with her soulmark. The two of them sat at the dinner table, in awe of the mark on her wrist. It was delicate and pretty. Three hearts intertwined like a triple infinity sign. Alex was almost envious. He wanted to know who his soulmate was so badly and he wouldn't get his mark for another 3 years.
Everybody needs good neighbours by @rmd-writes. E, 14k. To nora(9.37pm):
So a funny thing happened
My hot neighbour brought me the mcflurry i ordered and we fucked
From nora (9.38pm):
WHAT
DETAILS NOW
Which neighbour?
Wait, you only have one hot neighbour. Alex, did you fuck a guy?!?!?!
ALEX 
Alex meets a hot new neighbour. Shenanigans ensue.
Captious (calculated to confuse, entrap or entangle in argument) by lucky (revolutionbarbie). M, 14k. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
Alex hadn't intended to be 45-minutes late to his blind date, he really hadn't.
Thankfully Henry - broad-shouldered, blond, British and downright beautiful - didn't seem to mind.
written in the stars by @indomitable-love. G, 15k. Henry has always been entranced by the transformative power of stories; the way a happy ending can heal an ache better than any medicine.
He never set out to run a bookshop, but when he’d ended up with an obscenely large inheritance and an expanding cavity in his chest before he was even old enough to drink, there was only one thing that he wanted to do, only one way he wanted to fill the void: he wanted to be surrounded by the one place that had always felt like home – between the covers of a book. No matter the time period or genre, Henry has always found a home in books.
falling in love (in the cruelest way) by @coffeecatsme. M, 15k. “Alex?”
The name makes Alex stop halfway to the register and look back. Henry is standing in the same spot, shifting from foot to foot, before he juts his chin out. He meets Alex’s eyes.
“Where are you traveling to?”
Or, Alex picks up a stranger on a road trip, only to realize too late he's the missing Prince of Wales.
Financial and Other Instruments by clottedcreamfudge. E, 15k. “I’m Alex,” Alex says quietly, and something in Henry’s stomach jolts. “I’m a trainee financial adviser — I think you know my mom?”
***
Financial instruments are assets that can be traded, or they can also be seen as packages of capital that may be traded... These assets can be cash, a contractual right to deliver or receive cash or another type of financial instrument, or evidence of one's ownership of an entity.
Alex has owned Henry since the second he laid eyes on him, whether Alex knows it or not.
maybe take me into your room by smc_27. T, 15k. “This is kinda boring, ma.”
She pats him on the cheek, leans in a little closer, and says, “Find something to do, darlin’. You live here. You can’t leave.”
She’s not exactly right, but he isn’t going to argue. Plus, her main advisor, Zahra, comes over. Alex is already a little afraid of her, so he doesn’t feel the need to draw attention to himself by smarting off at the mouth.
She’s still talking to him when he spots this really beautiful guy about his age, and fuck, wow. Okay.
“Not him,” his mom says into his ear, and he doesn’t even… Look, if she knows about the few guys he made out with at parties in Madrid last year when the opportunity arose, this is the first he’s hearing of it. “His dad is the British ambassador. I can’t have you breaking hearts and causing an international incident.”
OR: Ellen Claremont is the US ambassador to Canada. Arthur Fox is the British Ambassador to Canada.  
When The Time Is Right by everwitch. E, 16k. “Maybe I could challenge you more,” Henry suggests, his eyes carefully trained on Alex. “And hold you accountable for longer. How does that sound?”
“That sounds fucking amazing,” Alex tells him, the words coming out in a rush. “Yes. That. Please.”
“Alright, then.” Henry offers him a sly grin. “Alex, love. You just gave me a wonderful idea.”
It’s really something, how quickly Alex’s heartbeat picks up. “Oh? Do tell.”
Henry’s grin widens. He looks alarmingly pleased with himself. “How would you feel about a staycation?”
When Alex asks Henry for something a little more intense in the bedroom, they end up taking more than just their sex life to the next level.
you'll be right where i left you by smc_27. M, 17k. He wakes up to a weird noise and - once he realizes he’s not dreaming it - starts trying to figure out where it’s coming from.
He takes a steadying breath and opens the closet door, and the scream he lets out is like, practically not human at all.
He did not fucking expect there to be a man in his closet. A man who is also yelling. Who’s tall, and hot, and wearing what seems like a wool suit, some kind of medal around his neck, and a sash.
OR, a time traveling Henry AU
Tell Me All Your Secrets by everwitch. E, 17k. When Henry dates Liam, he inadvertently learns about June’s brother Alex’s not-so-heterosexual tendencies of the past. But Alex has explicitly told Henry he’s straight. If Alex had the slightest interest in being with Henry, he'd definitely have set the record straight (ha) in regards to his sexuality. Except with pride month just around the corner and Alex making another trip to New York, Henry finds himself reexamining parts of their friendship. Perhaps there is more to their connection than he's ever dared hope for?
Or: the one where Alex and Henry go to New York Pride.
Fate Marks the Spot by @preppymayhem. T, 17k. Alex Claremont-Diaz wants absolutely nothing to do with Prince Henry of Wales and would be completely happy to never speak or be in the same room with him again.
Except for the tiny fact that Henry bears his mark.
A/K/A: What if Alex and Henry were soulmates, literally.
The Art of Falling in Love by floatingaway4. M, 17k. Alex Claremont-Diaz is a struggling actor, but his next role might be his big break. To research the role, his agent connects him with her friend at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The employee assigned to show him around annoys Alex before they even meet.
Will they ever learn to get along?
(Spoiler alert: Yes. Yes they will.)
Cursed is a State of Mind by @dustratcentral and @welcometololaland. E, 17k. Alex Claremont-Diaz is well aware that he’s an absolute catch. He’s intelligent and quick witted, has an ass that absolutely refuses to quit and was once voted ‘most attractive law student’ in a slightly irresponsible and probably unethical NYU student magazine poll.
Which is why he finds it super fucking weird that his new roommate, Henry, thinks his caffeine consumption habits are a bit off-putting. So what if he has some unconventional drink choices? It’s not like Alex can’t vehemently defend all of them.
5 times Henry has something to say about Alex’s coffee choices and 1 time he says nothing at all.
team henesmee series by @coffeecatsme. E, 18k. Henry isn’t home when Alex returns from his weeklong trip to his father’s lakehouse in Texas.
There is, however, a bat hanging from their fan, wings curled around its little body, a drop of drool clinging to his lips. Sleeping.
“Huh,” Alex says, tilting his head. “I didn’t know vampires could actually turn into bats.”
Or, 5 times Alex learns something new about Henry and 1 time Henry learns something new about Alex.
Luck of the Draw by LolaLand (Lola_di_Penates). T, 19k. Henry isn’t an artist, but he runs an art studio. Alex isn’t in a bridal party, but he’s arranging a bachelorette.
Neither of them are looking for love, but when life gives you lemons, you throw them in the fruit bowl and find yourself the man of your dreams.
The Beginner's Guide to Floristry by clottedcreamfudge. E, 19k. As if there's anything romantic about it; as if it's not the most humiliating death Alex can imagine. This is why he doesn't do relationships. This is why he never will. The risk, as far as he fucking sees it, is too great.
Hanahaki Disease is a fictional disease where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs, which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible.
Route 11 by LolaLand (Lola_di_Penates). E, 19k. Alex thought the New York City subway was a cursed public transport system. That was before he moved across the Atlantic and took the route 11 bus every day.
A public transport love story told in 11 parts.
My Songs Know Secrets You're Sick of Keeping by ma_lark_ey, paythe_piper. T, 19k. "How about this," Alex offered, "If I win AOTY, I announce Henry and I in my acceptance speech. If I don't, we do it your way."
OR: Alex is a world famous pop punk star, Henry is still the Prince of England, and the public is onto them.
A Practical Arrangement by @kiwiana-writes. E, 19k. “I know.” In fairness, he didn’t ask his mom to delay the wedding after the betrothal was made official when he turned eighteen. It wasn’t that she expected another option to materialise—he’s pretty sure she was trying to give him and Henry more time to get to know each other, maybe move past their open animosity a little. They’ve been pushed together every few months for the last three years, their marriage an inevitability. “I just… I still can’t quite get my head around it, you know? Married. To Henry.”
All the Old Showstoppers by @cha-melodius. E, 20k. “Dunno, kinda looks like you know what you’re doing. Are those macarons?” Alex asks incredulously after a little while, and a moment later Henry sees him start slowly approaching out of the corner of his eye. “I didn’t know princes could bake.”
“I’d wager not many of them can,” Henry replies as he works, letting one corner of his mouth tug upward.
(In a universe where Alex didn’t go to the royal wedding, three years later Alex and Henry find themselves both competing on an episode of The Great Celebrity Bake Off. Will old hostilities lead to disaster, or is there something else causing all that tension in the tent?)
i told myself don't get attached (but in my mind i play it back) by coffeecatsme. E, 20k. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Claremont-Diaz,” the woman behind the counter says, eyes wide and apologetic. Alex grits his teeth so he doesn’t say something inappropriate in a lobby full of scared families, crying kids, and the obscenely tall British guy that’s currently giving him a fucking migraine. “Due to the snowstorm warning, all the flights are cancelled, and unfortunately the room you’ve booked is currently occupied.”
“Occupied,” Alex repeats dumbly, nails digging into his palm. “I booked this room three months ago.”
“Yes, well, the previous occupant—”
“Should’ve been out of here by now.” Alex knows he sounds harsh, he knows the stupid blond is hovering somewhere behind him listening to the whole conversation, but he can’t help it. He’s not spending what’s supposed to be his vacation alone with another guy in his room.
Or, Alex and Henry are stuck in the same room in a hotel during a sudden blizzard
For all the world to see by everwitch. E, 20k. Henry Fox — bestselling author, mystery millionaire and infamous recluse — never gives interviews. So when June is tasked with writing a profile on Henry, Alex agrees to help her. How? By posing as Henry’s next-door neighbor, charming his way into Henry’s life for the purpose of obtaining some real substance for June’s article. Eat the rich, right? What could possibly go wrong?
i wake with your memory over me (that's a real fucking legacy) by coffeecatsme. E, 21k. The ski instructor stops in front of him, takes off his goggles, and Henry about stops breathing for another reason. “Hey,” Alexander says with a grin, his face distinctly lacking in wrinkles Henry was expecting from a renowned instructor. There’s a bright grin on his face that rivals the sun, rich brown curls spilling out of a red beanie, and Henry realizes he’s absolutely fucked for a whole other reason than his inability to figure out how to stay upright in skis. 
Or, the one in which Henry is hopeless at skiing despite his family's aspirations, and Mary hires Alex as an instructor to amend that.
we might just get away with it by smc_27. E, 21k. Henry is the most gorgeous man Alex has ever seen. And Alex has seen a lot of gorgeous men. He’s a fucking model.
“This is Henry Fox-Mountchristen,” Prada’s current PR lead says, and Alex smiles and pushes his hand out. “He’s a journalist covering the merger.”
Alex doesn’t know what merger or what it would have to do with Paris Fashion Week. But he does know that Henry holding a glass of champagne as he shakes Alex’s hand is maybe the sexiest thing ever, and there is just no explanation for that.
“Hi. I’m Alex.”
Henry says, “I know,” and then does this weird, forced smile at Bianca and walks away.
Alex doesn’t know how to like, not be completely obsessed with things he wants.
OR, Alex is a model. Henry is a journalist, and a bit of an asshole. Alex wants him anyway, even when it doesn’t feel good.
Fractured by clottedcreamfudge. E, 23k. Alex has been in the New York PPC for seven years, and it's seven years too long. He's not looking for his Half, because he isn't half a person. The Algorithm can kiss his sweet, Texan ass.
He doesn't need anyone - leggy, blond, or otherwise - trying to change that.
The Snow Prince by @orchidscript. M, 24k. Two little boys meet in a dream that isn't quite a dream.
Years later, two young men dance at a ball without touching.
A governor's son falls in love with an isolated prince who cannot be held.
A winter fairytale inspired by folktales, fairytales, and other stories. Alex and Henry meet twice, then fall in love a decades-old curse. When the threatened effects begin to come true, Alex endeavors to break it.
in summer air series by Standinginmoonlight. M, 25k. There’s something magnetic about Henry, though, and his feet feel like they’re rooted to the spot. He opens his mouth again and decides to just go with it. He’s on vacation, after all. Whatever fucking goes.
Or: the one Alex Claremont-Diaz flies halfway around the world to find himself and ends up finding Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor instead.
One Wild and Precious Life by @sprigsofviolets. T, 26k. In 2015, Arthur Fox was diagnosed with cancer. He went into surgery to have a tumor removed from his brain, and fell into a coma.
Nine years later, he wakes up.
Clue Me In by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 27k. Henry and Pez’s new shelter is opening in Brooklyn, and Henry is determined to spend the entire night avoiding Alex, while Alex is determined to do the exact opposite of that.
Cracked Heart by @absoluteaudacitywrites. E, 28k. Liam takes a deep breath in and out. “I’m so sorry, Alex. I’ve thought a lot about this and I don’t want to hurt you but it’s the right thing to do.” He pauses, taking another deep breath. “We need to break up.”
after hours by @dumbpeachjuice. M, 28k. “Spend the night with me. I’ll show you around the city, take you to all my favourite haunts. Give you a sample of what the real New York is like,” Alex explains, altogether far too casually to excuse the speed with which Henry’s heart has set off galloping. “Maybe you’ll even change your opinion that we Americans have no taste.”
Henry’s mouth feels sort of dry, so he swallows a large gulp of his new martini down and immediately chews through both olives to stall for time. “Why on earth would I do that?”
Alex shrugs. “It’ll be fun. I’m an excellent tour guide. I have references.”
The Byline by @rosetintednerdglasses. M, 28k. Press Secretary Alex Claremont-Diaz serves at the pleasure of the President, and he does it excellently until a new White House correspondent darkens his press room: Henry Fox, The Guardian.
Every Star That's Ever Fallen Knows the Way to Where We're Going by @dracowillhearaboutthis. G, 29k. When Henry’s family moved in next door when Alex was four years old, Alex was not a fan. 
In Your Orbit by everwitch. E, 30k. Alex, a third year student at the pilot academy — and more importantly the son of the First Commander of the Unified Systems — finds himself kidnapped by a duo of interstellar smugglers, Henry and Pez. The two space fugitives soon turn out to have a plethora of problems; between a severe illness, a freighter that keeps falling apart, and a meteoroid storm raging outside, they're in quite a pinch. Alex reluctantly comes to their aid, if only to make sure they all get out of this alive.
The thing about Henry, though, is that despite everything, he doesn’t actually seem cruel. He seems the exact opposite of cruel.
muscle memory by stutteringpeach. E, 30k. It's been ten years since Alex was in London to stage a PR friendship with Henry after ruining the royal wedding. It's also been ten years since Alex dropped to his knees in front of Henry in a Kensington Palace kitchen.
But now Henry's in the Hamptons for the summer, and who should he bump into? None other than Alex Claremont-Diaz, who happens to be working in New York all summer long.
Double, Double, Acting Trouble by @welcometololaland. E, 30k. Due to no fault of his own, Alex Claremont-Diaz winds up in a theatre class.
Due to every fault of Percy Okonjo, Henry Fox Mountchristen-Windsor finds himself roped into the very last thing he ever wanted to do - following in his father’s footsteps by being thrust onto the stage. OR
Confusion now hath made his masterpiece as Alex and Henry fall in love while performing the Tragedy of Macfish.
Be Worthy Love, and Love Will Come by @sparklepocalypse. E, 30k. "For Christmas this year, all I would like is a best friend who doesn’t mind too much that I’m a prince. Most of my classmates poke fun because of who I am, or treat me like I’m too special to be their friend. I want a best friend who knows me as much as my family does and still likes me. I know that you can’t wrap a best friend up in a box and put it under the tree, but you’re magic so you know the best way to bring one."
(Movieverse canon divergence; Prince Henry, age 8, writes to Father Christmas wishing for a best friend. A few weeks later, he finds one.)
it's you and me by smc_27. M, 31k. He can’t fucking wait to see everyone. To hug Bea. To have Catherine tell him he’s handsome and tap his nose with her index finger like she’s always done. For Arthur to make some inevitably fucking terrible joke about Alex bringing two duffels and a carryon. He also honestly can’t wait to see his mom and Arthur together.
Alex just really needs this summer. He needs time away, outside of Texas, with his family and the people outside his family who know him best.
or, an indulgent summer fic in which Arthur and Ellen are best friends and their families summer together in California
Nebuchad-never had a friend like me by clottedcreamfudge. E, 32k. When the dragons came, it was like nothing the world had ever seen before – and it hadn’t been anything like the movies either. There weren’t great, leathery wings beating up hurricanes and pinpricks growing larger on the horizon until sharp, white teeth became visible; there were no screaming citizens or calls to arms; nobody saw them coming, because they didn’t come the way Hollywood had expected them to.
The dragons had, instead, crawled out of the earth, just hatched and hiccupping smoke, barely old enough to support their own heads.
The world had fallen in love in an instant.
Waiting in the Wings by DracoWillHearAboutThis. M, 33k. Henry had always known he would end up in an arranged marriage.
He had not expected, though, to end up in an arranged marriage with Prince Alex Claremont-Diaz, who he'd secretly been in love with for the past fifteen years.
when i need to get home by smc_27. E, 35k. He drives the car he’s rented up the lane and half wonders if he’s just exhausted or if the place actually looks as bad as it does.
Oh. Oh god. Christ. What’s he gotten himself into?
He can’t help thinking if Jean knew her home had fallen this far, she would’ve been heartbroken. He’s not going to let her home sit like this. He’s going to fix it. For her, yeah, but for him, too.
or: Alex inherits an English country home, and Henry lives in the cottage next door.
Seven Years by @welcometololaland. E, 35k. Seven different places, seven different timelines, seven different meetings, seven different Decembers.
And still, Alex and Henry find each other in every universe.
Take me where I cannot stand by clottedcreamfudge. E, 36k. Henry blinks at him. “Galactapol?”
“Yeah, you know – the Intergalactic Peace Force?”
“Yes, I know them,” Henry says drily, “but you said—”
“We don't have a lot of respect for them around here,” Alex informs him succinctly. “If that's the kind of line you wanna take, then maybe—”
“No, no,” Henry says hurriedly, straightening up. “Galactapol. I like it. Catchy, even.”
“Read the contract or don't, Fox,” Alex says firmly, pressing his own hand to the line of studs between the engine room and the lower corridor. “I can find another engineer if I need to, but you'll never – and I mean never – find a ship like this again in your life. Jackie's one of a kind.”
Space, smuggling, and a ship called Applejack. Everything's shiny.
Before This, After That by @orchidscript. M, 37k. Henry Fox is lost. After suffering a serious injury from horseback, he struggles through the pain, depression, and frustration inherent with long term healing. Giving up is easier.
Discontent to leave him so unmotivated, the Fox siblings go in on a new solution: a private, personal physical therapist. Enter Alex Claremont-Diaz. He comes with glowing referrals, top of his class in all his degree programs, a sparkling personality and dug-in stubbornness to match. If anyone could light a fire in Henry again, it would be him. Right?
Most People Exist by SprigsofViolets. T, 40k. Henry Fox is a nurse at the New York Cancer Center. He’s happy with his job, content enough with his life, but it all gets turned on its head when he connects with a patient with a brain tumor—Alex Claremont-Diaz.
into the spotlight by indomitablelove. E, 40k. Alex Claremont-Diaz is a star on the rise.
A wildcard up-and-coming new actor who finds himself thrust into the Hollywood limelight when he’s nominated for a Golden Globe for Best Actor for his small-budget indie movie. It’s his more than he could have imagined in his wildest dreams. That is, until he discovers that also in his category is his mortal enemy: Henry Fox – generically attractive, completely boring and part of an acting dynasty that stretches back generations. In short, everything Alex hates about Hollywood.
So when a comment Alex makes about Henry in an interview goes viral, and the two find themselves thrust together through awards season, Alex can’t help but think his dream has become his worst nightmare.
Except, maybe – just maybe – Henry isn’t quite what he seems.
Down For the Count by LolaLand (Lola_di_Penates). E, 40k. Alex came to Las Vegas to count cards, not feelings. Henry came to win it all.
Is it possible to find something real in Sin City, where nearly everything isn’t as it seems?
Goodbye reality, hello Vegas (the blackjack/poker AU).
What's Up, Danger? series by @cultofsappho. E, 41k. “How thick do you think I am, exactly?”
Alex mumbles something under his breath that sounds like, “Got away with it this long, didn’t I?”
Henry’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “I’m sorry, are you bragging about lying to me?”
After a long pause, Alex says, “...No.” slowly.
“Hm. Thought not.”
In which Henry can’t recognise the sound of his own boyfriend’s voice, Alex isn’t as good of a liar as he thinks he is, and living with a superhero is both exactly, and not at all, what Henry thought it would be.
In Any Universe by SprigsofViolets. T, 54k. Boy Meets Boy.
Boys Become Friends.
Boys Fall in Love.
The Red White and Royal Blue Heartstopper AU that no one asked for.
Camp Llwynywermod by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 56k. The first night of camp with Henry is always weird. Weird in the sense that they haven’t seen each other in nearly eleven months, but Alex knows that Henry has been thinking about him in the months leading up to camp. Alex is guilty of it too; often the first thing he thinks of after applying to be a counselor is seeing Henry, Henry and his stupid blond hair and stupid English accent and stupidly gorgeous face, and thinking about just how he could outdo him in pranks this year.
Alternatively, the camp counselor AU that nobody asked for.
Fall Into You by lucy_in_the_sky. E, 56k. Alex is smart and witty and kind and clever and driven…but graceful, he is not. Several stints in the ER within one semester can confirm this unfortunate fact. The only good thing to come out of wracking up his out of pocket co-pay is the gorgeous nurse with beautiful eyes and a killer smile. Maybe breaking several bones is kinda worth it.
Basically: several times Alex was a clumsy wreck and Henry had to patch him up.
The Arrangement by cmere. E, 58k. “Gran sat me down the day I finished my A levels and made it abundantly clear I was not to let anyone know about any deviant desires I might be beginning to harbor that might reflect poorly upon the crown, and there were appropriate channels to maintain appearances if necessary.”
Shaan approaches Henry with a deal from the Queen: agree to an arranged marriage with a woman to flaunt in public, and he can enjoy the services of a male escort in private. Alex comes storming into Henry’s life with sparkling brown eyes, a mischievous smirk, and a challenge, and Henry struggles to maintain control of his emotions as boundaries begin to blur.
Alex doesn’t actually care about him; it’s just a job. Right?
Down By The Water, I Saw You by @myheartalivewrites. E, 63k. “Henry straightens up, head snapping over to look at the new arrivals. Then there’s the sound of a voice he’s not heard in ten years, a voice he never thought he’d hear again.
“Fuck, I can’t cook tonight. I think I’d rather starve.”
Henry stares, mouth dropped open. A head of curly brown hair turns slowly his way and his heart explodes.
“Henry?” Alex says, and Henry can’t bring himself to reply, so he just keeps staring. Alex looks at him for a few more seconds, eyes wide, blinking furiously, before swiftly turning on the spot and walking away from him and into the woods, but not before Henry can see the distraught look on his face.”
Henry and Alex first met and fell in love as teenagers, while on holiday in Jamaica. Ten years later, they run into each other again, and have to deal with the emotional fallout of how things ended last time. And fall in love again along the way, of course.
With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest) by @kiwiana-writes. E, 65k. Alex is a former child star struggling to make the transition into being seen as a serious actor. He jumps at an opportunity to perform on stage in the UK, seeing it as a way to break free from the typecasting and show what he can really do. But he wasn’t prepared to star alongside someone he hates.
Henry is a recent theatre graduate who accepts an amazing role in a queer reimagining of Much Ado About Nothing. And then it turns out his co-star is none other than the man he’s been hopelessly pining after for years—even though Henry made a terrible first impression when they met.
It’s… well, it’s practically Shakespearean.
You Know I Love a London Boy series by @three-drink-amy. E, 66k. When Alex has a break off of work, he decides to get away and spend that time in London. On his first day there, he meets Henry and sparks immediately fly between them. As they spend the summer together, touring the city and enjoying each other, Alex continues to keep a very big secret about himself: who he really is.
Nova, Baby by chamel. E, 66k. Agent Henry Fox-Mountchristen is an asshole.
Alex is 90% sure those exact words are going in this mission report. Yeah, they’re supposed to be objective when writing this shit up, but that isn’t his opinion. It’s a fact.
(CIA agent Alex Claremont-Diaz and MI6 agent Henry Fox-Mountchristen don’t exactly get along, but that doesn’t keep their respective agencies from insisting they work together as partners. Then a mission in Colombia changes everything, and their relationship begins to shift and grow into something that neither of them ever expected… and something that could have deadly consequences.)
Shatter Me by @historicallysam. M, 67k. Henry is resigned to the life he's meant to lead until he meets a man so full of happiness and life that he's got no choice but to confront the secret he's been keeping for years.
Deep Blue by myheartalive. E, 76k. “I picture myself in a small house by the sea, overlooking the water. Writing and reading all day and taking David on long walks and swimming everyday. Somewhere really quiet, where there’s not a lot of people. And where nobody thinks of me as Henry Mountchristen.”
Fed up of working under his grandmother, Henry quits his job in London, dropping everything for a writer’s life by the sea. He’s desperate to focus on his work and produce something worthy, but a mouthy American with a beautiful smile and a chin dimple has other plans.
But I love him, whether or no. by @leaves-of-laurelin. E, 77k. Henry moves to New York City to help Pez with the opening of his new bar in the East Village. The location—fortunately for business, but unfortunately for Henry’s sanity—is directly across the street from a fire station. The sound of sirens is bad, Alex the gorgeous firefighter is worse. But when Alex helps Henry avoid a near catastrophe the night of the bar’s opening, the two form a tentative friendship that starts to develop into something more.
I'm Taking A Ride With My Best Friend by @cultofsappho. M, 79k. When Zahra, the leader of the Fireflies, makes a deal with Alex to smuggle some guy outside of the D.C. Quarantine Zone’s walls, Alex immediately says no. He doesn’t move people, not anymore. Not since his ridiculous, and definitely past-tense, savior complex got him into hot water with June.
What could possibly be so special about some scrawny refugee? When he had his gun pointed at Henry, the expression on Zahra’s face was not one he’d ever seen on her before. She desperately needs him alive. For once, just this once, Zahra isn’t the savior today. It’s Henry.
“What’s so important about him?”
“Nothing you need to worry about. He’s just cargo, Alex.”
Alternate Universe - The Last of Us
Never a Guarantee by clottedcreamfudge. E, 87k. Henry – Prince Henry, third in line for the throne of Windsor and Alex's goddamn betrothed – has very soft hands. Alex knows this because he is literally holding them in his, both of them standing in front of just about everyone with a title in either of their two kingdoms, while a man in an extremely large hat has them repeat oaths and other things Alex has been learning by heart since he got engaged.
Looking back on their time at the altar, Alex should maybe have read a little more into the way Henry kissed him like it was the last time.
the poem you make of me by cmere. E, 91k. "Just, you know," Henry says. "If your mum weren't the president and you were just a normal bloke living a normal life, what things might be like? What you'd be doing instead?"
After being discovered on Instagram as a teenager, Alex Diaz is thriving as a social media influencer and model who just landed a high profile, high fashion contract with Calvin Klein. Alex can get any girl he wants, and he’s loving it. Meanwhile, British poet Henry Fox has just arrived in L.A. to kick off a North American tour promoting his new, steamy book of gay erotic poetry, and he’s attracting a lot of attention.
Bad blood is immediately sparked between them when Henry blows Alex off at their first meeting. Several tabloid rumors and an Instagram tantrum later, Alex and Henry are reluctantly thrust together to make nice, resulting in a grudging friendship and a magnetism between them that Alex can't explain. Why is Henry's poetry making Alex feel like this? And just what is it about Henry Fox that gets to him so much?
(our last summer) memories that remain by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 91k. Fresh out of law school and fresh out of a relationship, what Alex Claremont-Diaz needs most is a goddamn vacation. He plans to spend his summer on a small island off the coast of Wales, three months of peace and relaxation and figuring out what the hell he actually wants to do with his life. But all that is thrown out the window when he runs into his ex-fling, Henry Fox, who just so happens to be running the hotel he's staying in for the next three months.
Four years prior, Henry Fox meets the most beautiful boy he's ever seen at an NYU party: Alex Claremont-Diaz. Henry soon finds himself whisked away to Texas with Alex, a summer full of poetry and skinny dipping and stolen kisses, and everything is perfect. Almost too perfect for a summer fling. Yet Henry can't stop himself from falling in love with Alex, falling for the lake house and everything Alex loves, even when he knows it's too good to last.
Two summers, two places of falling in love, one filled with memories of the last. It leaves Alex and Henry wondering: is this summer truly going to be their last one together?
A Long Way From the Playground by allmylovesatonce. E, 96k. Henry and Alex were best friends growing up until they went to separate colleges and they grew apart. When they see each other again as adults, against the odds, both living in the same city again, will it be a joyful reunion or will the pain of the years apart get in the way? How do you become friends again when there is so much of the past in the way?
Peaches and Cream do Sexy Murder series by @dumbpeachjuice and @clottedcreamfudge. E, 103k. There are precisely three things Henry knows for absolute certain:
1. There is nothing that can’t be solved by a good cup of tea.
2. His dog, David, is probably the person who loves him most in the world, and that is because Henry is the provider of sausages.
3. His sister would do anything for him, including, but not limited to, murdering his wanker of an ex-boyfriend.
Or, Henry is a witch with a slew of dead ex-boyfriends, and Alex has a badge and a gun.
The Consequences (Of our Actions) series by @anchoredarchangel. E, 135k. "I sort of came out as bisexual to both Nora and myself when we were watching that fucking snoozefest of a Royal Wedding years ago, and I told her with no hesitation that you were on my list.”
Suddenly, Henry looks very present in this previously one-sided conversation, eyes boring into him even if he sounds a little choked as he clarifies, “I was on-”
“My No Consequences sex list,” Alex confirms brazenly, “Yeah."
Or: During an inadvisable spot of dating years back, Alex and Nora made a game out of making extensive lists of celebrities they could hook up with without it being cheating. One breakup and several years later, Alex meets someone on his list for the very first time at a charity gala and decides it's appropriate to tell him all about it.
I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!
RWRB FirstPrince AU Recs Part One
RWRB FirstPrince AU Recs Part Three
Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs
Master List of Recommendations
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here2bbtstrash · 1 year
Note
For your drabble reqs - I’ve been sitting on this for a hot hot hot second because imagining jimin’s crotch grinding on my ass and what could follow is turning me feral -
on your first date with shy Park Jimin, you both drink more than anticipated to take the edge off and end up getting a little too touchy feely on the dance floor.
☺️
MALLORYYYYYYY thank u for this lovely lovely req 🙆‍♀️ this was the perfect thing to shake the rust off!!! i hope you enjoy this one 💌
~taking jihope drabble requests all month!!~
pairing: jimin x reader wordcount: 1k exactly mmmm satisfying contains: alcohol use, first date, reader and jimin are a lil sloshed, horny thots are thunk, grinding on the dancefloor, jimin calls himself a slut lmao, jimin playing with her panties through her dress and getting hard, sooooo it's kinda semi-public i guess, mentions of begging and sub!jimin, going home on the first date..... think that's it!
~*~
Your drinks catch up to you on the dancefloor, all at once.
You’ve thrown them back like water tonight, faster than you normally would on a first date. But the man who’s sat across from you all night is intimidatingly gorgeous, not to mention sweet and soft-spoken and full of endearing little habits, like the way he pouted down into his own glass as he lifted it for a sip only to realize he’d already finished it.
Then he’d glanced up again as the empty glass tapped back down onto the table between you, his eyes just barely narrowing in a way that somehow managed to change his entire expression– made your stomach do a little backflip, too.
His voice was spun silk when he asked the question, dripped in something not quite innocent.
“Do you want to dance?”
What you hadn’t accounted for when you’d nodded your agreement and tried to will the flush of heat out of your face was the fact that dancing would mean getting even closer to Jimin. Dancing means his hands cupping the curve of your hips, warm through the thin fabric of your dress. You also hadn’t accounted for the way your liquor-soaked brain would take that spark and run a marathon with it, imagining those hands tangling in your hair, circling the buds of your breasts, slipping up your skirt.
There’s a steady pulse thudding in your core, in time to your heart and the bass of the speakers, and you swear the beat skips every time the flashing lights catch on an edge of Jimin: the full lines of his lips, the hoops sparkling diamond-bright at the corners of his jaw, the flicker of his lashes over the soft color bloom in his cheeks.
It’s too much. The space between your thighs aches, begging to be filled, and so you let your body lead. The room spins a little; you turn with it, Jimin’s hands fluttering at your waist.
You don’t know who initiates it– if you pressed back, if he pulled you in, or if the draw is all magnetism– but the space between your bodies narrows and then disappears. Your hips slot together, easy.
Something tells you the alcohol’s not to blame for the headrush buzz that hits you at the warmth of Jimin’s body under yours. The colors of the club smear together on the backs of your eyelids, and your lips part for a breath in when you feel his hips roll into yours like he knows what he’s doing.
And then his soft voice paints heat up the slope of your neck, and your eyes blink open again. “Can I tell you something?”
“Y-yeah,” you stutter on your next exhale. The motion of his hips is steady now, a deliberate grind against the swell of your ass, a riptide threatening to drag you under. You make no attempts at resisting.
“I’m kind of a lightweight,” he admits, and you can hear that it’s true, his words sliding into each other. You can’t help your giggle, partially because you weren’t expecting his confession, and partially because, well– you’re feeling it too.
“That’s okay.” You do your best to reassure, speaking up to carry over the pulse of the music. “Me too, I think.”
“Can I tell you something else?”
Jimin’s voice sinks low into his chest when he asks the question, and the rumble of it vibrates through you like the thrum of a plucked string, underscored by his hips still rocking into yours. You drag your teeth over your bottom lip before you answer.
“Uh-huh.”
His nose grazes the line of your jaw, and you can hear the shy smile in his words when he speaks again.
“I’m also kind of a slut.”
Your breath hitches in your chest and you wonder if Jimin feels it. It’s so dark, your bodies pressed flush– it’s hard to keep up with where you end, where he begins, his tight black t-shirt and jeans blurring at the edges of your little black dress.
“That’s more than okay,” you finally manage, and you feel him dig just a little deeper into where he has you, gripping tighter at the line of your waist, as if making a promise of what’s to come.
“Yeah?” Jimin purrs.
You let your body answer him, let your hands slip over his to guide them lower, a slow tease. It’s easier to ask without words, your head dropped back against his shoulder, his fingertips seeking out the v-line of your panties through your dress, tracing the lace edge.
There’s no question that the crotch of his jeans has filled out now; you can feel him straining against denim, an insistent bulge at the curve of your ass. When you roll your hips in a circle, it earns a soft moan in your ear, one you could easily return at the wet drag of your thong when Jimin tugs at the fabric, rubbing a taste of friction just right over your clit. It lights your body up, a live fucking wire, and you need more than what you can get away with on this dancefloor.
“Anything else you want to tell me?” you murmur up to the ceiling.
Jimin’s mouth is hot when he presses a tongue-first kiss to the hinge of your jaw, then takes your earlobe between his teeth before answering. “Your body is driving me crazy. Wanna… fucking beg for it.”
“Shit,” you can’t help groaning, reaching a hand up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. You feel him stiffen all over when you tug a little, swear his dick even jumps in his pants. “I’d love to see you down on your knees, Jimin.”
“I’ll be so good for you,” he outright whines, and you tighten your grip, arching your back to better rut yourself against him.
There’s only one question left to ask, it seems, and you can’t wait a second longer.
“Your place or mine?”
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delugguk · 11 months
Text
Is this okay? | pt.2
pair: jungkook x reader.
genre: smut, drabble series? strong ass pinning, idiots to lovers? sexual tension.
word count: 860.
warnings: eating out, unprotected sex (be safe🤨)
part one.
A/N: to be honest I don’t even know what is this. “Is this okay” is definitely going to turn into something I fear.. but let’s take this a little episodes of OC getting way in too deep with her feeling about jungkook. if she doesn’t know what the fuck this mean, neither do I, the one that’s writing this LMAO. Let’s just see where this two couple lead us to, okay? I don’t even know what’s the plot or if we ever get a solid one but either way I’m excited!! but nothing more to say, enjoy^^
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he gently open your legs as soon as you’re already leaking for him. unconsciously arching your back, he bites his lips in necessity. caressing up and down your inner thighs, you make an intense pleading eye contact with him and oh.. he wants you so bad. “you’re mine.” a deep voice resonating into your ears as soon as he speak, slowly bending down to give a very long and slow lick into your clit.
such a tease, you thought.
he’s so sensual. you swore he wasn’t real.
“fuck.” it’s all you say. the way he moved his tongue was so splendid. you didn’t know if he was that good or if it was because you were just too invested (in not only him eating you out), but, him.
ah, you’re doomed.
as soon as he went down on you, you knew this was going to happen. first time he was going down on you, first time you were falling in love like this.
who looks so perfect doing it? (and again), you didn’t know if it was because of his tattoos or because of his black shirt. either way, he looked hot as fuck doing it. and the little, shiny silver chain tangling around his thick and very tentative neck, wasn’t helping you at all. neither.
“just like that..” it’s all you blurb out.
“hm?” he answers. but it’s more of a ‘yeah?’ kinda respond.
he sound so needy..
“hmm..” he groans and you can’t help but feel the vibrations enter your vagina as soon as he started giving big, open mouthed kisses into your very heated and leaking private parts.
you can’t help but thrust softly into his mouth, his hands grasping into your sides. you believe he could leave marks on it. can already feel it, but you liked it that way. — he wasn’t even your boyfriend to begin with, but he fucked you oh, so heavenly. you knew nobody could ever be close to do you like he does.. ever. he surely was a masterpiece of a experience. but hm.. you mentally sigh.
jungkook.
“mhm?” he asks as soon as he introduces two fingers in it, flickering your clit.
“agh- yeahh.” you moan, trying to close your legs oh how I wish he could just fuck you with your legs up and closed for him. you suddenly wanted his dick so badly.
“mmmm” moaning, sighing very needy, your hips can help but move in circular motions while he goes kinda hard on you. so good. “jungkook,”
“mm?” he’s so concentrated, sounding so desperate too.
“want your dick.”
he gives you one last kiss with a pop. you flinch for how good it felt. “yeah?” eyes so dark. hair so in between them too. tattoos so on display and his chain still doing things to you, not to mention him smelling so good too.
“yeah.” you say as you, yourself, pull your legs up to pretend you’ll put it at the side of his left shoulder. “like this.” basically pleading with your eyes.
he smirks. “hm.” it’s all he says.
when he’s positioning himself on bed, you notice his very erect bulge. mm. how much wanted it. you’ll do anything for that dick. (but not quite literally. you just were way too down for him).
who knew you could say anything during a heat of the moment, right? .. haha. crazy.
“eunmg, put it inn” you plead.
“desperate much, my love?” he grins while stoking his very hard dick.
“yeahh” you aren’t even ashamed. this is what you are.
“love how honest you are.” giving you a devilish smile.
you wanted to cum right there.
grabbing your legs he squeezed them together, putting both of them on the side of his left shoulder and as soon as he entered he pushed your entire body back on him to introduce his dick as he knows best. very deeply.
“mm!” you moan. walls already squeezing him, you were trying to not cum but he felt so good.
“if you keep doing this to me I’ll cum, sweetheart. please calm down.” he says as he pats the side of your hips.
“eung.” you just nod like a very good girl. fuck, he loved that.
starting moving his hips, thrusting into you felt incredibly rich. your walls were squeezing him so right and your very sticky liquid were all over the place. coating his dick so well. he was fucking you so well you started to feel butterflies into your stomach and the pleasure you were having were sky rocketing the stupid heated room. couldn’t do this anymore, you finally cummed. he later chased his high too.
but instead of stopping he continue to stroke his dick into you. you weren’t complaining though, because you two really just were that horny.. the night continued like that during a couple of hours and even during a couple of days.. you were doomed. doomed, ruined.
jungkook, jungkook.. just what have you done to me?
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