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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 8 months

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Ridiculous Groupie Things Diane does to Hobie @ Shows (aka, Hobie realizing how much misogyny Diane goes through)

[This post is about my Spider-sona Diane Pastors, aka DiscoSpider, aka Hobie's number one fan. Their relationship status is officially groupie and guitarist.]

She owns a number of clothing that she wears only to his concerts, usually to annoy others

All of which Hobie loves. A couple are:

Of course, her signature guitar pick chain

A pair of booty shorts with 'HOBIE' bedazzeled across the ass

A number of shirts with his autograph, usually band tees from his tour

One of his spiked cuffs (he doesn't know she has it. yes, he's looking for it)

The most transferable lipstick she owns. She digs in the bottom of her makeup bag to find the one that smears the most and leaves a mark.

Hobie looks cute in kiss marks

A pair of Pleaser Brand stripper heels. Spider-balance means you'll never catch her tripping

At 5'11 - Any heel over 6 inches makes Diane taller than him, which Hobie ADORES - and he tells her this. He loves a stallion.

So she'll where 8 inch Pleaser heels, so she stands over the crowd. You WILL see her from the stage she's like the only chick in here that's 6'7"

But Hobie still carries a spare pair of shoes. He'll give her his chucks - or if she drukenly begs, his boots, and he gets to walk around holding the world's tallest heels

Fuck it, it'll just swap shoes with her and put them on. He's standing there in heels while she's in his boots talking about how her feet hurt

She wears one of Hobies shirts around a belt loop.

Hobies likes to throw his shirt off stage.

Fans love fighting for that shit like it's a wedding reception and he's throwing the bouquet

But here comes Diane-

She's 6'7" in heels and RIGHT next to the stage - so she's always catches it. Snatches that shit right out the air. Full on interceptions.

And of course the other fans get pissed, because sis you already have his pick what more do you want

Is he aiming it in her direction? Or does she just know which way he's gonna throw it??

Who cares - either way she got it and will wear it on her waist the whole night. It's debatable if she even gives the shirt back to him. Only if she doesn't like the design that much

She always asks him what he's wearing so they can color coordinate

Gets annoyed when he shrugs and goes 'idunno was just gonna pull something on'

Cause Diane has to carefully algorithmically put together outfits like she's Cher from Clueless

She uses the Lyla in her watch for fashion advice even though Miguel tells her that's not what Lylas for

(Diane: but look at her little coat and glasses and stuff. She knows what she's talking about)

Meanwhile Hobie can pull on ANYTHING and it'll come together like Alexander McQueen rose from the grave to construct it himself

She gets his autograph every time

She'll wait in the line like everyone else - she doesn't care

Hobie laughs every time she makes it to the front

He'll be ready to thank the fan and sign the photo only to look up and Diane's standing there - big ass smile on her face

Drunk, 6'7" like "Awwww I'm your biggest fan, I'm so happy to meet you, I love you so much AH 👅

She's constantly caught by security who thinks she's just a rabid fan that snuck in

And she HATES bouncers with a passion. Like a vendetta against them irregardless of universe

It's a personal thing (they never let her into the Disco clubs before she turned 18. So she hates them, even though that's their job)

BUT NOW she looks at bouncers like 'im taller and stronger than you so don't put yourself between me and my man cause GOOD LUCK brotha'

Hobie has to step in all the time and break up arguments to tell security that yeah there's rabid groupies backstage that need to be taken care of

Except this one, this one he specifically knows already - she's fine

But there's some she's cool with

Some bouncers that know her face and guitar pick and let her through right away because she buys people drinks and she's a friendly drunk

It's not rare for Hobie to walk by a bouncer and have them say 'Oi, Diane's looking for you.'

She talks up every guitarist in the venue. Featuring Artist or an opening act? If you're a guitarist GREAT

it's like she spawns next to you like a COD lobby

Half the time she catches them off guard like

Guitarists in the circuit know about her. She's THE GROUPIE.

Like the Godfather of Ginessing Guitarists

It's helpful that Hobie always knows when someone is talking about Diane.

He's heard it all - The groupie chick, the guitarist girl, or his favorite - "Hobie's girl."

One of the only times he doesn't correct people on that.

Because he knows they don't mean it like that, they just know that Diane is here for HIM, and she's his plus 1.

If you perform after Hobie - tough tiddies. She's leaving with him.

Shoot your shot before he gets on stage and DO NOT try and talk to her during his set.

All the guitarists know about her - and yeah she'll fuck them but they better know come Saturday she's gonna be at HOBIE's show goddamn it

Don't be asking her to come see you on show night she's gonna look at you like 'absolutely not. actually you're ridiculous for asking lose my number'

It doesn't come without it's slutshaming

And that's what surprised Hobie so much.

He knew about sexism OF COURSE but he just didn't realize how quick people are to just go there - for no reason.

Diane LOVES fellow groupies, but some don't love her. A small percentage.

And it's been a couple times Hobie's heard one call Diane a slut or bimbo under their breath. He seen girls outright call her a bitch.

There's been girls who try to trip her, or spill drinks down her dress, or get her kicked out or something

And Diane usually has the same response : "Can't wait to tell Hobie about this after I fuck him. AGAIN."

And if you don't like it - talk to this Daiquiri in the face cause she's throwing her drink yfvlhvjlj

She's not fighting anybody - for their sake. She has an unfair advantage being both pretty and semi-superhuman.

But Diane is more likely to be wounded by it if it comes from a girl. She's not taking any shit - but she's like 'Damn sis we could've been besties.'

But it's the dudes that get Hobie really heated, and it makes his skin crawl

Dudes who ask him questions, ask if Diane is easy or how many times they shagged. If he thinks they have a chance at getting her in bed, what she's willing to do

Sometimes dudes make the mistake of thinking Hobie is a safe space for sexist shit like that - HE ISN'T.

Sometimes they just say the most vulgar shit about her, or what she's wearing, thinking he'll be like 'i know that's right bruv'

NO.

Hobie isn't one to violence when someone is simply being a dumbass, but he will quickly tell them that if he catches dude around her, he's gonna ruin his mfing night

Hobie isn't possessive or protective of Diane by any means

But he hates people who take her for an idiot - just because she's enjoying herself. Especially guys who only see her as a little groupie bot that dispenses sex and attention

He's seen her defuse bombs and shit on missions. She's so much more than that

And Diane tells him to ignore it, or even better, laugh at it. That's what she does

Diane has been dealing with it all her life - being taken for one-dimensional, or worse, dumb

Sometimes even Miguel or Jess treat her like she's nowhere near as smart as an average Peter.

And sure it hurt sometimes, Diane would love if she could come up with plans or gadgets like everyone else

But she's realized that whenever she's called things like a bimbo or a groupie, usually the people who mean it hurtfully are just as one-dimensional as they think she is

She figures if these people lack the self awareness to see her for who she is, she already has an advantage on them

Sure, she wishes she could be the 'professional, respected' woman like Jess is. But then she thinks for more than two seconds

Then realizes she loves sparkles, and dancing, and funky basslines and fruity cocktails and pretty boys.

And all of that makes her way happier than all that stuffy shit

She likes being a groupie. She LOVES it.

The way Hobie smiles when she compliments him, doing her makeup in bar bathrooms and feeling the excitement backstage during soundcheck, or waiting in line for autographs with the Lucky Charms

Always making her way to the front row and looking up at him, seeing his eyes search for her in the crowd

And when they're eyes meet, it's always like she's back at her first time at a show.

She wouldn't do it if it didn't make her happy.

And that's why Hobie loves it too.

No matter how 'weird' someone may think it is.

She's not hurting anybody, she's just being happy.

She's showing her love for him - and she's not letting anyone stop her. And he loves her for it.

Every guitarist needs a great groupie.

BONUS:

Rockstar things Hobie does for Diane @ Shows

All the bartenders know about Diane. It's the first thing Hobie does.

And when she arrives, she always gets Daquiri's on the house. Courtesy of the guitarist.

He always gives an encore.

She'll always be cheering for one - and who is he to let his groupie down

He's always sure to play her favorite songs again

and he ALWAYS gives a solo. (She goes Miguel Mode everytime)

Diane picks every single.

It didn't start out that way, but Hobie found he loved songs a lot more when Diane couldn't get them out of her head

When she went around the boathouse humming a chorus or repeating a lyric

or outright GUSHING about how cool the song is, how awesome he'd look on stage playing it, which of his outfits goes along best.

And every time she says it's her favorite, he can help but make it a single.

He always wants to make the songs as catchy as he can, just to hear the sound of her singing them when only he can hear.

#this is so fucking gushy BYE #PURE FLUFF OKAY #it starts funny then goes heated then goes SOFT #hobie brown #atsv #across the spiderverse #across the spider-verse #spiderpunk #spider punk #discospider #disco spider #hobie brown x oc #hobie x oc #spidersona #spidersonas #oc writing

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nanaslutt · 2 months

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Just a funny thought that since Choso can control his blood or whatever, what if he can control his boners…😭

-🩻

I've been inspired ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

ʚ cont: fem reader, kinda sub choso, oral(m!r), edging, dirty talk, teasing, body worship(?)

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Do you really have to look at me like this? It's so embarrassing." Choso complained, holding his t-shirt over his crotch as he averted his eyes. You kicked your legs behind your body as you laid on your stomach on top of your bed, Choso standing in front of you. "Well I wanna get a good view of it don't I?" You teased, reaching out your hand and caressing his upper thigh, just under where his hands were blocking.

"Don't…" Choso whispered, feeling his face heat up at the sudden attention. "If it goes up just make the blood go somewhere else." You teased, laying your head down on your arm, your eyes staying locked on Choso's large hands that blocked his crotch. "It's hard to do that," Choso whined, gripping your wrist and pushing it back toward your body.

You retracted your arm, crossing it under your head with the other one as you laid on them. "How so?" You asked, your eyes finding his. Choso's gulp was almost audible. Your eyes looked so pretty and wide when you looked up at him from this angle. "I want to be aroused when you touch me like that… so forcing the blood away is kinda like edging myself," Choso explained, making a small smile creep onto your face.

"You're so cute Choso." You praised, watching how your words made his cheeks turn pink. "Fine, I won't touch you anymore, I'll just watch." You said, smiling up at him. Choso averted his eyes when he couldn't take your sultry stare anymore, his eyes dropping to his hands over his crotch. "You've obviously done this before, so how did you find out you could do it?" You asked, watching as Choso let his t-shirt drop to the floor as he began slowly working on his belt.

Choso's blush grew deeper at your question as he pulled the belt out from the loops in his pants. "Sometimes I'll wake up and my…" Choso cleared his throat, his eyes darting around the room, "It'll also be up… down there. It's easier to just force it down like that rather than touching myself." He explained, sliding his pants down his thighs. You listened to his words carefully as he slid his pants off his legs, his porcelain skin getting revealed to your eyes.

"Next time it's like that when you wake up just wake me up Cho, I'll take care of it." You said, slightly teasing him but you were serious with your words. Choso's eyes found yours as he stared at you pointedly, almost pouting. "Sorry sorry," You laughed, forgetting Choso was already having enough time keeping his boner down as is.

Choso hesitated before pulling down his pants, his thumbs just resting under the band of his boxers. "What's wrong? Did ur' hands stop working? Need some help?" You offered, picking your head up and resting it in your hands, elbows perched on the bed. "You've… never seen my dick soft before," Choso said, his face scrunching a bit in embarrassment as he tried to cover his crotch with his fingers while keeping his thumbs under his boxers.

You smiled before finding his eyes, waiting till he looked at you before you spoke. "I have. When you were really sick and I had to bathe you remember? I saw it then and it was perfect." You said, reassuring him. Choso looked like he wanted to say something in response, but he just pressed his lips together in a pout and looked down at himself, at the bulge in his boxers from his soft cock.

You don't know why Choso was so nervous, his cock was huge even when it was soft. He took a deep breath before sliding his boxers down, the short black hairs on his pelvis being revealed slowly, making you subtly press your thighs together. Your mouth started watering when the base of Choso's dick was revealed, he was moving too slowly for your liking, but he was extremely nervous so you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Once Choso had completely stepped out of his boxers, he stood in front of you awkwardly, hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. "Choso." You said softly, raking your eyes down the expanse of his body before they landed on his face. "Come closer, don't have to be so nervous baby." You teased, taking his soft thigh back in your hand again once his feet met the edge of the bed, his cock now level with your face and very close to it.

Choso caressed the side of your face, the once teasing touch on his thigh now welcoming and comforting. You leaned into his touch and kept your eyes on his, wanting him to calm down a bit before you gave any instruction. Once Choso's heartbeat had slowed, and his breathing was steady, you looked down at his cock, noticing how it twitched softly every so often, most likely from Choso trying to keep his boner down.

You smiled nice and big for him when you were ready, finding his eyes for a moment before looking back down, focusing on his cock. "Ok, lemme see it." You said. Choso released a shaky breath as he shook his head. Goosebumps ran down his back as you caressed his inner thighs, your soft, cool hands feeling calming against his burning skin. Your mouth fell open in a small O as Choso let the blood slowly flood back to his cock.

His dick was at full hardness in under ten seconds. It rested only inches from your face, twitching strongly as you oggled it. Choso watched you watch him grow hard, fighting the urge to not cover his face in embarrassment as his face flushed furiously, feeling like heat was radiating from it. Choso's hand shook against your cheek, his whole body vibrating with nervousness.

You looked back up at him sweetly, smiling as innocently as possible. Choso looked like he was holding back, but he also looked very vulnerable, making your heart swell tenfold. Maintaining eye contact with him, you leaned forward and stuck out your tongue, finding his cock with the hot appendage using your peripherals. Choso's jaw fell open as he sucked in a shaky breath when your tongue met with his hot cock, his eyes staying locked on yours as they fluttered in his head.

You giggled almost inaudibly before you wrapped your lips around his cock and licked your tongue around his soft tip, the taste of his pre-cum immediately flooding your tastebuds as he dripped into your mouth. Choso gasped quietly as you bobbed your head slowly down on his cock, taking it deeper and deeper, little bit by little bit. His eyes fluttered when you moaned around him, the sound vibrating around his cock.

You focused on sucking air in through your nose when your lips hit the base of his cock, his dick snugly in your throat. Choso weakly kept his hand on the top of your head, his body shaking as he took in how warm and tight your throat felt. Choso finally broke eye contact when you swallowed around him, your throat contracting around his cock.

His head tipped back as his jaw fell open in a groan, his eyes falling shut. You giggled around him as you bobbed your mouth on his cock hands-free a few more times, taking him into your throat each time, making his hand curl against your head, his nails raking over your scalp softly. You hummed around his base for a moment, leaving his hard cock snug in your throat for as long as you could before you needed air before you pulled back entirely, a string of saliva connecting you to the tip of his cock.

Choso's head tipped back down to look at you, your lips swollen and wet from just throating his dick. You looked up at him with a dopey smile, one full of mischievous. Choso kept his hand on your head as he waited for you to continue, only you didn't, speaking instead, "Make it go back down now." Choso swore his heart shattered in that moment as he tried to make sense of your words in his pleasure-riddled brain. "Huh?" He asked softly, his eyes half-lidded with lust.

"Your cock, make it go soft again." You instructed, nodding your head at him. Choso bit his lip between his teeth as he fought with himself internally. He didn't want to do that, at all actually, but the thought of saying no to you sounded just as bad. With a small sigh, Choso looked away and let the blood run back into his body, away from his cock.

His dick softened in front of your eyes, slower than it had gotten hard the first time. When he was fully soft, he looked back down at you, gauging your reaction. "Good boy." You praised, looking back up at him through your lashes. Leaning forward you pressed your still wet lips against his soft cock, the skin feeling much softer than before. "Thank you Choso, that's all. You can put your clothes back on now." You instructed, smiling at him innocently.

You watched the gears try to turn in Choso's head as you sat up and grabbed his face, pecking him on the lips before you slid off the bed and reached down to pick up his clothes, pressing them against his chest once you gathered them. "I'll give you some privacy to change." You said. Standing on your tiptoes you pressed a kiss to his hot cheeks before walking past him and out the door, shutting it quietly behind you.

Choso stayed still and unmoving in your bedroom for a good minute or so as he waited for his brain to catch up with what had just happened. With a sigh and a pout he started putting his clothes back on, he knew you would never leave him unsatisfied like this, he figured you had something bigger planned, a reward maybe, if he listened. So Choso did just that, keeping his boner down as he clothed himself before leaving the room to join you in the living area.

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 2 months

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thinkin about a reader who is a people-pleaser. who is so eager to please in bed. who needs to be needed. like you just can't quite get your head into your own pleasure unless you know he's enjoying himself. maybe part of it is that you want to feel wanted and to be what he wants.

you breathe into his ear, asking if he likes this, if this is what he wants; you need to know he's enjoying himself.

it's a good idea or it's a bad idea. depending.

nsfw ↓

GHOST senses the implicit question underneath immediately. you don't need to ask again. he's so equipped for a praise kink. you've shown him your weak point and goes for it, even if you yourself aren't totally aware of it. sinks his claws in and no lol you are never getting away.

"course i like this," he murmurs, voice all gravel. "nowhere i'd rather be than inside you. you like this too?"

"yeah."

"like it when i talk to you? when i tell you how sexy you are like this? how tight you are?"

you clamp down on him in an involuntary response. he groans, then chuckles.

there is no sweeter place than right here between your thighs. he keeps talking, praise slipping out of his mouth while he watches you bunch and writhe, you squeezing him with your legs and your pussy, fitting him like you've got everything to offer him-- he dissolves into low, heated curses when you clamp down around him again and cum at his praise. you're done for. he'll never stop now.

GAZ is craftier about it. he'd never take advantage of you, darling, of course not. ignore how his voice dips, smooths, laces itself with authority, silk hiding steel. ignore the funny way his words seem suddenly smug. it flutters in your gut the way sees the power you're giving him and takes it with both hands--wields it like he's rescuing you from yourself.

"of course i like this. now don't think so hard, sweet thing. let me handle it for you."

he would never abuse his power over you, of course not, not even when he's edged you for so long tears prick at the corner of your eyes and you're begging him, and his eyes darken. voice soft, veiled, his murmuring hiding something you can't detect under the need he's stoking in you.

he doesn't release you until you've told him what you want. this isn't just about him, he chides; he wants to know what you want. he wants to please you. but somehow, the lust in his eyes when you're begging him for release--to do what only he can do for you--somehow that's the only thing on your mind when you finally cum.

SOAP is pure id. you want to know what he likes? if he likes this? he'll tell you, yeah, he likes it, and the way you double down on riding him makes him want to cum then and there. it's not just the way you feel. it's the look on your face, the tension on your body, like you have something to prove. you're fighting your goddamn demons just bouncing on his dick.

it makes him worse. he doesn't manipulate you. it's not like that. but you asked, aye? you wanted to know, didn't you? wanted to know what he likes, what makes him feel good, and soap wants to try everything. more than that, he wants to see you try everything. he wants to see the look in your eyes when he overstimulates you, when he puts you on your knees and pushes his boot against your cunt, making you ride it as you suck him off. he wants to blindfold you, cuff you, get you prone and under him in every possible sense and push you to your limit. all he has to do is reassure you that he's abso-fuckin-lutely enjoying this, hen. enjoying that fucked-out look in your eyes, that look of surprise on your face when you find something new that gets you off, that look he becomes most fond of--the "fuck, this just woke something in me" look. he fucking loves pulling orgasms from you that you never expected to have. and you're doing such a good job, aren't you? you're working so hard.

he lavishes the praise on you. it takes no time at all for you to start responding to his praise even when it's clear he's turned on by just how depraved you're willing to be for his enjoyment.

"you'd do anything for me, wouldn't ya?"

it makes him so goddamn hard when all you can do is affirm, half-babbling, wanting more praise. all he has to do is reassure you that he likes this. and he does. he really does.

...

more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

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hoshigray · 11 months

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Having thoughts about Toji crushing on a cutie little cinnamon roll. Maybe they go on a few dates before he finally gets her home with him, and just as things are heating up he realizes oh, she’s a virgin. That doesn’t mean he’s not interested, but it changes how he wants to go about it.

Noonie, yeeeeeeeeessss!!! I had the dumbest grin while reading this in my inbox teheheee~ Longer than I intended but what the hell lol hope you like it!!

Cw: dom! Toji x fem!reader - age gap (the reader is at least in their 20s and in college; Toji is around mid-30s) -missionary position - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - ass grabbing - pussy eating - biting (Toji bites your ears) - edging (fem! receiving) - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, sweetheart, mama, princess) - clitoral play - light comedy bc I do[n't] think I'm funny. Wc: 2k

"Ready, baby?"

Your body goes rigid, fingers playing with the hem of your shirred frilled cami romper. A shaky sigh seethes from a wary smile. "Yes." The man in front of you grins before opening the door to his place, and you enter to your doom.

Toji has been courting you for quite some time. It started with small greetings when he visited the café where you work for his usual order of black coffee. Then those greetings slowly evolved into casual chit-chat, prompting Toji to ask you out because he couldn't resist your kindhearted aura.

How could he when his day instantly brightens when you flash your gorgeous smile every time you see him? Or when you always give him a call or text anytime you return to your dorm after hanging outside campus grounds. And when you're done with work, you let him drive and drop you off at your dorm. But that's because he always stays at the café until you get off: watching you welcome customers who enter the space, offering free treats to kids, or giving him a tiny smile from the other side of the shop whenever you catch him staring. Makes him snicker like an idiot.

But his favorite moment with you was the first time you two kissed on your third date. Oh, Toji could replay the scene all fucking day. With your eyes lidded, lips quivering and gripping onto his leather jacket as the man peppered you in kisses, he adored your display of pleasure. And it was even more adorable when you nervously bid him goodnight before entering your dorm room.

It was entertaining how he was the only one that made you — his cute little darling — so shy whenever he came too close. So much so that it turned him on, his desire to have you under him waxing inside him day by day. Except he doesn't, choosing to wait for the perfect time.

And now, when he finally has you where he's been dying to have you, Toji's allowed to indulge in your charm personally. There are shudders of anticipation around him as he kisses you on the couch, his big hands roaming over your form. A deep chortle vibrates his throat when he bites your bottom lip, resulting in a shivering whimper from your swollen lips. Oh, he's going to enjoy every second of this.

But as someone on the other side of the makeout session, you found yourself in an unpleasant position. Not because you didn't want to be here smacking lips with Toji, oh no. He was a great kisser, taking your breath away simply by his lips. No, the real problem was more personal.

Something so personal that it has your brows trench as Toji's hands snake down to your butt, kneading it like putty. Wait a minute...

"Mmmm, Toji, please wa—"

"Shhhh," he hushes you with kisses down your neck. "Taste so good, angel."

Something very personal that your eyes are towed shut when he creeps a hand inside through the bottom of your romper, a warm palm groping the soft flesh of your ass. Wait, wait, wait!

Something extremely personal that you gasp sharply when you feel two fingers sneak past your panties. WAIT!!!

You push Toji off you in haste, and the older man stops with his hands up defensively. He looks at you with confusion, tilting his head to examine what's wrong. You squeak and throw apologies his way. "I'm so so sorry! I'm-I'm just...umm...."

It takes a few seconds for Toji to piece everything together, with the way you're talking in quiet mumbles, your hands fidgeting with your romper again, and your eyes downward to avoid his gaze. His head straightens with eyes slightly wide. Is...Is she a—

"Are you a virgin, sweetheart?" Another muffled squeak confirms his suspicions, and you nod with hesitance.

What were you thinking pushing him off!? If you're gonna have your first time with anyone, why not be the man you're attracted to? But then again, it is YOUR first time!! In humiliation, you cover your face with your hands, the phone call you had with your best friend earlier replaying in your head ("Get it, girl! You either die a virgin or live long enough to get some good dick in your life." "That's the worst way to reference that movie!" "What-the-fuck-ever, go get that dick!!")

You can hear a chuckle from the man, and your eyes shut as you descend further into embarrassment. Oh God, I should've taken my dumbass home so I didn't have to deal with this later and cry myself to—

Your train of thought grinds to a halt when Toji pulls you into his chest. "Oh c'mere, ya cutie." He rubs circles on your back. "Did my lil' angel save herself up fr' me to deflower?"

"No, you perv!" He barks out a laugh above you, not helping this situation. "I just...I-" You try to retort, but the way he looks at you with a sly look and playful grin has your stomach flip. Why's he so goddamn handsome!? "I was just....never ready."

He hums pensively, still rubbing your back. He stays quiet for a while, and you don't bother fixing that while resting on his chest. He doesn't say anything until a minute later. "Think yr' ready now?"

"I don't know? Kinda scared..." You're honest. "But I...I really wanna do it with you, Toji."

"Then, do ya trust me?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Well, in that case," Toji carefully pushes you off him before he hoists you up bridal style. The swift motion catching by surprise as you hurriedly wrap your arms around his neck before he starts walking. Amused, he kisses your cheek. "Don't worry a thing, princess. Gonna take care of ya real good."

You gulp as your face goes hot. Oh, I definitely should've stayed my ass home...

Yeah, you definitely should've.

Fifteen minutes in, your senses are already clouded by the lapping motions of Toji's tongue on your vulva. You're lying on his bed, your figure writhing and back arching from the commotion between your legs. You tried to contain yourself by concealing your moans, yet your lips let the pornographic noises fly.

The last fifteen minutes have been spent preparing you for the big event. Toji started by fingering your hole, making you adjust to having a foreign limb within you. When you were wet enough, one digit became two, and you grabbed ahold of his shirt as he did his expert work on your soaking chasm.

Now in your nude, you let the man continue to prep you, his hands holding onto your legs with your pussy out for him to see, for him to toy with his wet muscle between your folds and drinking your essence.

"Ahhhh-Haaaah! T-Tojiii," you look so out of it, your head squirming around the pillow beneath you and your words slurred. You've already come two times; what more does this man need for you to be ready? "Oh God, it's too much fer mee, 's too muuch!"

A sharp cry exits your mouth when the man licks your clitoris, his deep forest green eyes peer up to look at you. He snickers, "C'mon, mama, you know I gotta have my girl ready to take in all of me." He flicks his tongue on your bud, and another yelp escapes your lips. "Lemme finish up here, 'kay?"

And he goes back to finishing you up, his hands grabbing you by the hips to bring you closer to his ravenous mouth. You clutch tufts of his raven hair, and his name comes out in incoherent babbles.

Your eyes start to water as your head gets dizzy with the raunchy noises from down south. Your cold sweat contrasts with your hot bare form, and the throbbing sensation between your legs festers under your skin.

Beads of sweat scroll down your forehead. You're close to release. "Hngg! Toji, I'm gonna cu-cummm!"

Suddenly, Toji removes from your legs, leaving you and your pulsing slits to the substituted cold air. You whine for your neglected orgasm that withers away, propping yourself up to beg him to give you what you want. But your breath hitches before you can make a complaint.

Toji is off his bed, withdrawing his shirt and jeans, freeing his cock from his boxer briefs. You can't help but stare at the member before you. Following the trail of hair from his lower abdomen, his erection sprung up with precum oozing out. Compared to your fingers or toys, his dick is way beyond your comprehension in length and girth.

Oh, to die from the first dick you've ever taken. How poetic.

Toji notices you ogle at his shaft, sneering as he returns to the bed. "Like what ya see, cutie?" You chew on your lip when Toji props your legs around his waist, a hand used to position his shaft to your leaky entrance. "Gonna start real slow, so take some deep breaths fr' me, 'kay baby?" You nod, internally bracing yourself for what's about happen.

The head of his cock touches your slit, and you jolt. "Relax, baby. It's gonna hurt if you're tense like that." He coaxes, your breathing securing you from the intrusion. He watches you; with each exhale, he pushes himself. The unfamiliar limb prying in your vagina and the pain you're experiencing is like no other. But you bite down on your lip to push through.

When the tip makes it in, you gasp. Gradually, Toji pushes his member further into you, stretching your tight hole to accommodate his girth. You try to compose yourself with even breaths, but you shriek when you feel his length brush against your G-spot. When the base kisses your cunt, Toji gives you a few minutes to adapt to him. "How ya feelin'?"

"So full..." You look at him with brows scrunched, eyes hooded, and tears streaming down your pretty face.

"Hmm, I bet." He wipes your tears with the rough pads of his fingers before slowly thrusting into you. You grip his shoulders for support, your pussy tightening around his length while your legs cage him. "Oooooh, Christ, you're so tight, mama. Drivin' me fuckin' crazy."

And you're about to be driven crazier when his hips pick up the pace, his dick hitting your sweet spots with precision. It's so surreal finally experiencing your first time, especially with Toji. Maybe it's because he's older and more experienced, but whatever expectations you had up until this point have been blown out of the water. The slap of his pelvis on your slick-coated folds fills his room, his throaty groans sound way too good to the ears, and his hot kisses on your lips make you melt. It all feels so electrifying.

Just when you thought you were undergoing it all, Toji slithers a hand down to your clitoris and swipes up and down on the pearl with his thumb. A choked sob leaves puffy lips, "T-Toji, I'm so close. Please, please, please, let me—Oh God."

"Hnnmph, oh shit—" He's close, too. He bends down to nibble on your ear yet licks the pain away. "I know, sweetheart. Come on me." His thrusts then go faster, a merciless tempo you were unprepared for. Shrieks go higher as your orgasm climbs up, and it hits you hard when Toji's fingers play with your clit again. Your climax sends shivers up your spine, your tender walls pulsating on Toji's cock.

And the older man pulls his dick out of your sensitive cunt, letting his come spill onto your stomach. It looked so lewd yet deliciously attractive, especially with him heaving on top of you with his black bangs sticking to his forehead.

When you two calm down, Toji scans your disheveled appearance and chuckles. "Damn, yr' gonna have me addicted to ya, princess." Your stomach was wiped off with a towel that Toji had on hand as you giggled aimlessly.

"Wanna go again?"

"......yes?" You avoid eye contact and turn away bashfully. He chortles and kisses your cheek once more.

"So fuckin' cute."

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luveline · 10 months

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𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

you comfort miguel when he lashes out after a memory —a ficlet featuring begrudgingly lovesick miguel and a flirty spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader, 1.5k

cw implied ptsd and accidental rough handling

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel can feel your heart-eyes on him. You're sitting behind him on the floor in his office, or, as you've fondly nick-named it this week, The Control Room, humming and making little origami flowers.

So far you've made five, promising him without prompting a multi-coloured bouquet. He doesn't know why you've stopped (or why you started), but he doesn't have to turn around to confirm it. He can tell. You're shameless either way, proven when you say, "Hey, handsome?"

He sighs with more annoyance than he feels. "What?"

"How'd you know I was talking to you?" you ask, with a laugh he loves and hates at once. Loves, because it's a really nice sound, and hates, because he knows how this goes. "I could've been talking to Margo."

"She is handsome," Lyla chimes in.

"Very much," you agree.

Margo, alias Spider-Byte, looks up from her tablet screen to flash a smile. "Thanks, guys."

"What did you want, then?" Miguel asks.

He's surrounded by girls who live to annoy him —they all laugh as though they know something he doesn't, and when he turns to glare at them they laugh more. Lyla zips out of his eyeline, disappearing from view with a sympathetic, "He's dumber than he looks."

"Hurtful," Miguel says, turning back to his screen. "Why do I bother?"

You stand up with your bundle of paper flowers crinkling in your hands and approach him. You're of normal height, while Miguel is of 'ridiculous' height (your word choice), and so you have trouble looking him in the eye when you stand close. You have more trouble keeping your distance, craning your neck all the way up with your rubber capped shoes to his spidersuit ones.

"Can you lean down a bit, please?" you ask.

Margo laughs, “Oh, here we go.”

Miguel has trouble saying no to you. And by trouble, he means he finds it impossible, and he hasn't done it in a while. He leans down very slightly, worried you're going to try and kiss him in front of the others. He's kissed you already (which he hates himself for, what a stupid thing to do) (but was a good kiss, as things go, your lips soft under his, his ardency undulating in the face of your little gasping sound when he'd bitten your lip, when he'd grasped at your side like you were slipping through his fingers), and you've kissed him. But never in front of other people.

Which isn't to say they don't know. Everyone definitely knows. They're just too scared or too kind to say. Or, like Lyla or Margo, they find it funny.

Now in reach, you lift an origami flower to his ear and attempt to prop it there. He has a flash of a memory, a small hand by his face, the summer sun on his neck, and he can't deal with it. He grabs your wrist and pushes it away from him.

Your eyes widen. You're not unused to his bad moods, but Miguel doesn't grab.

You look back, and he thinks it's because you're scared, and he wishes he could take it back straight away, but you're looking for Margo and Lyla. When you see they aren't there, you take his face into your empty hand and ask, "What's wrong?"

Miguel doesn't answer. He doesn't know what to say. Sorry would be a good start, but his mouth is dry. He frowns down at you.

"I didn't mean to overstep," you say, uncharacteristically serious.

"I didn't mean to grab you," he says.

"I know. It wasn't so aggressive, anyways. I'm genetically enhanced, you know?" Your smile creases the delicate skin at the corners of your eyes. "I'll make you something else. A fan, for the heat, or a jumping frog."

You turn and take a step away. Again, Miguel reaches for you, but when he takes your wrist this time it's with the kindness you deserve.

"I'm sorry, cariño," he says.

He’s embarrassed for having pushed you away, even if he couldn’t control himself. All you were trying to do no doubt was make him happy. It's usually your main prerogative besides winding him up, and he can't find any ill will in a paper flower.

"Cariño," you quote in a murmur. It doesn't take a second for you to return to your smiley, loving self. "That's definitely something nice."

"It's affectionate." He doesn't explain more than that.

You force your hand into his, twirling inward like a half-hearted dance. "I can tell," you say giddily, dropping your cheek into his chest.

He rubs the back of your hand. Sorry, sorry, it says, each pass of his thumb against your skin.

"Miguel," you say, in the lilting cadence of a girl with a favour to ask, "now you've ragged me around–"

"Not what happened–"

"–I was thinking maybe I could do something to you." You smile cheekily around your words.

He sweeps his gaze across the office to make sure there's no one here with you both, or about to be. Complicated you may be, but Miguel knows you well. Better than he should. He spent a long time denying his feelings for you, aggrieved and guilty, and a longer amount of time resenting you for being so damned enchanting. Which wasn't your fault in reality —you're a weird creature, and you can be a little off-putting; it's Miguel's problem alone that he wants you as badly as he does. To feel your neat, teasing smirk under his lips. To have the line of your jaw against his hand as you whisper flirtation or laugh at your own awful jokes.

To take your hip into his grasp and squeeze.

There have been times where Miguel wanted to press you up against a wall and kiss you into silence, quieten your taunting teasing with a bite to match his bark. And there have been times where he wanted to rub the tense line between your shoulders, having caught you in a vulnerable moment, and promise that things will be better.

He isn't making any more promises, not in this life, but he thinks that someone like you, who tries too hard to make people happy and sometimes wears two masks at once deserves to do whatever it is they want to do to people like him.

"Okay," he says quietly. His voice is rough as hewn stone.

You have a pocket full of paper stars that crunch as you lean in. "I'm gonna kiss you, if you promise not not to freak out. Is that cool?"

Okay, you deserve some softness, but Miguel would rather lead. Your hand falls to his chest, and his hands find your face. His fingers behind your ears, his thumbs aligned with your smile, he squeezes your cheeks in his hold gently, tilting your chin up, and up. The column of your throat is bared and begging to be scandalised. He can imagine it, the bruising his lips would leave behind like crescent moons and the pinprick crimson stars from his needling fangs if he were to only press down.

"We'll compromise. I'll kiss you, and you'll let me apologise again."

"I don't need you to say sorry again," you say softly.

"Then I won't say it."

The implication has heat rising to your cheeks. Your hand grabs uselessly at his suit as you close your eyes, and Miguel knows his cue. He leans down and kisses you, tender but a little rough, your lips soft and warm and eager as he encourages your head to one side. It feels like you try to say something but you don't move back, and so he doesn't either, kissing and kissing and kissing until he's sure he'll remember how it feel tonight, hours from now, when he's staring at a screen wishing you were haunting his office rather than in a doze in the girl's dormitory.

"Miguel," you say, practically into his mouth. This time he pulls away, and you take a small step back so you don't have to crane your neck. "I, uh…"

Miguel wipes the sheen from your bottom lip, not not listening but certainly not giving his full attention. He's hoping you'll let him kiss you again.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the flower," you say.

His eyes lifted to yours. "It's not that. It's not you. Don't waste any time thinking about it, okay?"

He pinches your chin between his forefinger and his thumb. You hold his eyes for a moment.

"I don't really think," you say bashfully, wrapping your arms around his waist and giving him a hug he doesn't have time to reciprocate.

"You think," he says, blinking as you retreat from him completely, waltzing back to your origami station on the floor. Your hips don't sway, but there's a movement to them he tracks.

"About you, handsome? All the time."

Miguel groans and turns back to his screens. Lyla appears silently, and sticks a finger into her mouth in a mock gag.

"That's in poor taste," he says.

"I would like to hand in my resignation."

"You can't resign, Lyla. You're a hologram."

She pushes her heart-shaped sunglasses up her nose and blinks out of view, refusing to speak to Miguel for the rest of the day outside of official Society business, and even then she's cranky. You fill the void of conversation with a mixture of nonsensical and merited suggestions, and by the time you leave for the night, his desk is decorated by a rainbow menagerie of paper animals, each one made with care.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed! please consider reblogging if you have the time! <;3 if you have a request of this pairing or other miguel fics and want to share, im eager to see them!

my other miguel fics

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year

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It takes a while before Eddie catches up to what’s happening. It’s subtle, really, an untold story in slightly averted gazes and barely-visible scowls. But he starts paying extra attention to it when he catches Steve resolutely facing the other way when they pass a storefront with a couple of mirrors in it. From that moment, it doesn’t take long before Eddie notices the pattern, the way Steve meticulously avoids basically every reflective surface like it’s becoming a second nature for him.

When he finally asks Steve about it, Eddie sees how his face drops, and he kind of wishes he hadn’t brought it up. It pains him to see Steve like that.

‘I just - I don’t really recognize myself, anymore,’ Steve says. ‘I know it’s really fucking superficial, but I used to be this hot dude, you know. The guy everyone wanted to be with. And now I’m just some guy, with glasses and hearing aids and a belly and a retreating hairline, and a gross scar around his neck.’

Eddie can actually feel his heart shrink in his chest. He hates this for Steve. He wants to make clear to his boyfriend exactly how beautiful he still is, not despite, but exactly because of all the things he just mentioned.

'Those things can still go together, you know,’ he says, playfully shoving his shoulder against Steve’s, pressing a quick kiss against the scar on his neck. ‘If you ask me, you’re still the hottest dude in all of Hawkins. You’ll always be.’

And slowly, a smile starts creeping over Steve’s face. ‘You sure about that?’

Eddie nods, not looking away. ‘Hundred percent.’

Since that day, Eddie starts keeping a stack of post-its and a pen in the bathroom. Every night before he goes to bed, he sticks a new note on the bathroom mirror: “I love the color of your eyes.” “I love your soft tummy.” “Your hearing aids make you look like a sexy cyborg.” “Did you know your nose looks biteable AF?” “Your moles are more beautiful than any constellation.” The stream of compliments is endless, but not once does Eddie have to make an effort to come up with something new.

And that’s how the mirror stops being Steve’s enemy. Because ever since the first note, it’s become his new favorite thing to look in the mirror, the very first thing he wants to do when he wakes up in the morning. The messages always manage to surprise him, tirelessly keep pointing out new things about him, always in the most Eddie-ish way possible: funny, sweet, unhinged, caring, horny, genuine... And always so full of love. The one thing he can always count on.

But one morning, a day after he and Eddie got into a heated fight with each other, Steve steps into the bathroom with dread clawing at his stomach. He knows the mirror will be empty. Eddie was so fucking angry at him last night.

Unexpectedly, he does spot a note, a purple post-it with Eddie’s handwriting on it. He feels the overwhelming urge to cover his eyes, because this time, there will be something mean on it, no doubt. Eddie will tear apart what used to be the best part of Steve’s day with one single sentence. He steps closer, swallows, gets ready to face the music.

“I’m still mad at you but godDAMN why do you look so fucking HOT when you’re shouting at me that’s fucking unfair.”

Steve stares at the note for a full five minutes before taking it off the mirror and adding it to his ever-growing post-it collection. He’s completely overwhelmed by the love Eddie showed him even while he was angry. By the certainty behind that simple gesture. The unwavering commitment in Eddie’s actions.

Steve wakes Eddie up with a kiss and a cup of coffee. They talk it out, like they always do, and he buys a ring for Eddie the next day.

#tw body issues #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fruity ficlet

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ilovenatasharomanoff2-0 · 1 month

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Okay so I’m new to the blog and I saw requests were open! So kind, dom Nat or Wanda with fem sub R who is very submissive good girl golden retriever vibes, but Nat/Wanda is sadistic so she finds the smallest reasons to punish R and R just goes along with it? Maybe slight mistress kink? 👀

Baby, my love

warnings: a teeny bit of degradation, fingering, praise, riding, ass groping? I don't know. strap on

word count: 2.7k

pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem reader (Minors and men dni!!)

A/n: Bro, this is so cheeks because I have had such a long break, bru. I'm so rusty. Please save me. (I started getting lazy at the end cause I got bored and tired sowwy.)

"So cute," Natasha gazes at you with admiration as you peruse the restaurant menu. Your undivided attention is fixed on the pricey delicacies listed before you when, suddenly, her hushed compliment causes you to snap out of your menu-induced trance and meet her gaze.

"What?" You ask Natasha, only now coming out of your trance and paying full attention to your girlfriend.

"I said you're so cute, baby, So focused," she tells you. As you sit across from her in the dimly lit booth, she leans forward and reaches a hand across the table. Her fingers wrap around the salt crusher, which she begins to toy with absentmindedly. Despite her focus on you, you can't help but notice the veins that protrude from her weathered hands absentmindedly. Despite her focus on you, you can't help but notice the veins that protrude from her weathered hands.

As you catch a glimpse of Natasha, your cheeks instantly flush red, and you feel the heat rising on your face. Despite being together for over three years, she still has the power to make your heart skip a beat and leave you feeling butterflies. Your lips curl up into a grin, and you can't help but feel giddy as you realize how much you still adore her.

"I - thank you," you stutter out to her. A low chuckle escapes her lips as she gazes around the restaurant. She seems to be looking for someone specific, perhaps the waitress. And just as if on cue, the waitress approaches your table seconds later, timing it perfectly with her search.

"Are you feeling nervous for me already, my love? It's funny how you worry so much even though I haven't done anything yet," she says with a gentle sigh, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of her mouth. She looks up at you with a small smile, her eyes sparkling with affection and gratitude for your concern.

"I have nothing to worry about. You just—" but were interrupted by the waitress's appearance. She appeared from around the restaurant's corner, clad in a crisp uniform and carrying a notepad and pen. The steamy conversation was put on hold as she approached your table to finally take your orders.

As the waitress completes taking down Natasha's order, she turns her attention towards you. A warm smile graces her face, and you can't help but feel a sense of comfort in her presence. You reciprocate with a small smile, not wanting to appear impolite, as you place your dinner order. The soft murmur of other diners and the aroma of delicious food fill the air, making for a cozy ambiance.

"Perfect! I'll be back in a couple minutes to bring your food out!"The waitress says before walking away to assist other tables.

As you sat there, the soothing sound of low jazz filled your ears, enveloping you in a sense of calm and tranquility. For a few blissful moments, you were lost in the music, feeling your worries slip away. However, your reverie was abruptly interrupted by Natasha, who shattered the peaceful atmosphere with her sudden words.

"So, do you like her now?"

"W-what are you talking about nat? Do I like who?"

"Oh, please. Don't act like you don't know. The waitress."

"Natasha, I'm seriously not in the mood for this bullshit right now." You tell her; an exaggerated groan leaves your mouth as you put your face in your hands.

" Watch your fucking mouth y/n. You were all on her right? Smiling at each other like I wasn't here?"

The air grew still between you and Natasha, punctuated only by the sound of your own breath as you lifted your head to meet her gaze. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, pregnant with unspoken thoughts and emotions.

"But, she could never fuck you like I do, huh?"

You feel a sudden stillness in the air like time has slowed. Your cheeks start to flush with embarrassment once again. It takes a moment to fully comprehend Natasha's words. You can't help but wonder how she could be so uninhibited and unconcerned about expressing herself in such a public setting.

"Answer me, y/n."

"No, Natasha." As you begin to respond to her, you feel a slight discomfort between your legs. You shift your weight, crossing your legs to alleviate the buildup of heat and tension. Your words come out slowly as you try to maintain your composure.

"Good fucking girl," As you sit there, she leans in and whispers into your ear, her smirk growing wider with each passing moment. You can feel the warmth of her breath against your skin, and her words have a powerful effect on you, making your heart race and your mind spin. Despite your best efforts to remain composed, you can't help but feel a little bit helpless in her presence.

The rest of dinner was a torcher for you, and Natasha slowly lured you into her trap. It was too easy for her to have you melt in her hands. The night was filled with low teasing words that spilled from Natahsa's mouth, her shoe running up and down your leg. Only provoking the wetness between your legs.

As soon as the check arrived, Natahsa swiftly took out her wallet and paid without any delay. She made sure to leave a generous tip, expressing her gratitude for the excellent service. Without wasting any time, she grabbed your hand and hurriedly rushed back to the car, eager to have time with you.

During the seemingly long ride back to your New York apartment, you felt her veiny hand placed on your thigh, exerting a firm and steady pressure as she squeezed it. The touch of her hand sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but wonder what was going through her mind at that moment.

"'M sorry, Nat. I won't do it again," you tell her softly, just loud enough to be heard over the music playing in the car.

"You can try that cute apology again at home when I'm fucking your brains out, sweetheart."

Butterflies erupt from your stomach once more; you don't know how Natasha can be so collected when saying all these vulgar things to you.

You, on the other hand, had your legs squeezed together to get some sort of friction. Natasha's hand was inching closer and closer to your core making you more needy for her than you already were.

Natasha pulls the car into her designated parking spot with a sense of urgency, as if she can't wait to get inside. Without a moment's hesitation, she takes hold of your arm and guides you out of the vehicle and into the building. Her hand swiftly finds the key to the shared apartment, which she deftly inserts into the lock and turns with a satisfying click. Within seconds, the door swings open, revealing the cozy interior of your home.

Without any delay, she swiftly makes her way to your bedroom, determined to get you there as quickly and as safely as possible. Once there, she handles you with the utmost care and delicacy, making sure not to cause any further discomfort or harm as she gently eases you onto the bed.

Natasha makes her way onto the bed, looking at you with her full attention. Her hands clasp around your face, slowly bringing you into a kiss.

After a few seconds, she pulls away, her hungry eyes staring into yours. Her hands carefully and quickly come down to the zipper of your silk dress, slowly zipping down, until you were left wearing your bra and panties.

"So fucking gorgeous pretty girl. Can't even blame that waiter for wanting you."

All you can do is look up at her and whine, needing to feel her on you. In you.

Her lips travel swiftly down to your neck, leaving a trail of wet and passionate kisses that send shivers down your spine.

Small moans leave your mouth when you feel Natasha's hand slowly make its way down to your pussy, her two fingers brushing over your panties. Her mouth leaves your neck slowly. Natasha kneels down to admire your exquisite beauty. She gazes at you with wonder and amazement, taking in every detail of your stunning appearance. Her eyes scan every curve and contour of your being as she marvels at your magnificence.

"Baby, make sure to enjoy this moment because this is the most gentle I'll be tonight," she whispers softly into your ear. Her breath against your skin sends shivers down your spine as you feel her warm embrace.

Natasha doesn't waste time taking off your bra, leaving it on your chest. Her fingers move back down to your panties, this time moving them to the side to admire your wetness.

"Holy shit, you're this fuckin' wet, and I haven't even done anything." She laughs to herself as she looks at your desperate face, begging her to fuck you without having to say anything.

"P-please Nat," you moan out with desperation. you plead with Nat in a small and helpless voice.

"Please, what princess? What do you want me to do to this fucking cunt?"

Your face slowly lights up from Natasha's words. "Just want you inside." You whisper out to her.

"What was that y/n? I don't think I heard you." Oh, Natasha heard you.

"I-fuck. I just want you inside my pussy Natasha!" You finally yell at her, your head leaning against the pillow so you won't have to look at her.

"Yes, ma'am," She tells you and pulls down your panties, tossing them to them behind her. Two of her fingers direct themselves back to your pussy, slowly gliding over your slit. She groans when she feels your wetness on her slim fingers. She lifts her hand up from your pussy to show you your wetness.

"Look at me, baby, look at how fucking wet you are."

You look up at her again, her eyes fixated on her fingers. She slowly spreads them apart, your slick moving with her fingers. She carefully places her two fingers into her mouth and moans at your taste, her eyes now locked in on you.

Her fingers lead back to your pussy for the 3rd time; this time, she pushes her two wet fingers into your cunt. A loud moan ejects from your mouth.

"Oh baby, you're already clenchin' around my fingers, and I haven't even moved them yet.

It was almost like you forgot to talk at that moment. The one thing you had been craving was finally here. The only way you could express your pleasure was to moan into her.

You were a mess, to say the least. Your eyes are drowsy as Natasha speeds her long fingers into your pussy, slick running down your soft thighs. Your hips bucked back and forth to meet the fast thrust of Natasha's fingers.

Natasha's thumb makes contact with your clit, rolling the bud in a circular motion. Shattered breaths and whimpers escape from your mouth, the room filling with the sound of your wetness. Her fingers curl slightly into your cunt, and a low plea finds its way out of you.

"I can feel you squeezing around me, my love. Are you close already? You poor thing, do I make you feel good?" she asks.

"Mm-ph, yes!" You manage to squeal. Natasha pulls her now, sopping wet fingers out of your cunt right as you are on the edge. You knew it was too good to be true. The way she gave into you so easily.

"Think you deserve to cum that fucking easy, my good girl?"

You were too fucked out to reply to Natasha, only moaning and lifting your hips up to her leg, which she quickly moves away, leaving you no source of pleasure.

"Answer my question, baby. Do you think a little disobedient slut like you deserves to cum?"

"N-no."

"That's a Good answer, my love. I have two options: I can leave you needy all night and not touch you, or you can work for it. Which one?

"Two." You groan out, your high thoroughly washed over now, bringing you back to reality. Natasha just smiles at you and walks away for a few minutes. Coming back in only her sports bra and a pair of Calvin Klein boxers that had that seemingly noticeable bulge.

Natasha gets on the bed again, lying down and signaling her eyes at you to straddle her.

"Natasha, what are you actually doing?" You question her as you move your body on hers.

"Gotta work for what you want. And...you do want to cum tonight, don't you?"

You tilted your head slightly and moved it slowly, in deliberate motion, indicating your agreement or understanding.

"Then you can ride my fucking cock and cum that way, okay?"

"You're not going to help?" you ask her. You were never able to get off without Natasha's help. It was almost impossible, ever since the first time you both had the most intimate sex ever, she had a chokehold on you.

"Why do you need my help? You can go and flirt with other people, so I suspect you can do this, can't you?

You give a subtle nod, feeling a hint of skepticism creeping up. It's hard to believe that what you've just heard is true. Nonetheless, you try to keep an open mind and remain composed.

"The more you wait, the further away you are from coming."

You don't waste a second longer. You plam the outside of Natasha's gray boxers. She lets out a little sigh and grasps your ass. After feeling her through her boxers, you slowly pull them down, her large strap springing up and hitting her stomach. She looks you up and down smugly, her abs clenching at the thought of you.

You slowly spit on her cock, sliding your hand up and down her base as she just watches. You finally start to sit down, her cock, your face already contouring with pleasure. Natasha throws her hands behind her head, loving the view of your hands on her stomach as you sink down on her cock.

You need no time to start riding her like your life depended on it. Whispers of her name leave your mouth as you feel how she stuffs you.

"Keep on riding me just like that, love."

You move your hips back and forth, trying to get an immense amount of pleasure out of riding her. Your high wasn't building, only the frustration that came with it. You speed up your hips. Nothing. You try bouncing up and down on her cock. Nothing. She can tell that you are struggling; it's evident in your face and the rhythm of your slurred movements.

Natasha loves seeing you like this. She knows she's why you have difficulty coming undone without her help. She knows that no other lousy girl can fuck you the way she does. You were hers.

"Natasha, please. I'm sorry for what I did. I promise it's not going to happen again." You whine out to her, and your eyes start to water.

"Fine, but only because you asked so nicely."

Nat positions her legs in a bent way where your back can lean against them. Her hips quickly get to work. Fucking themselves into you at a rapid pace. The room was filled with moans from both of your mouths and the sound of skin slapping against one another.

"Look so fucking pretty like this. Can't even fuck yourself without my help. Pathetic."

You only moan at her words that bring you closer to the edge, her hips moving at a slower pace but fucking yours harder. Her hands gripped your ass tightly as she fucked you, not giving two fucks if the neighbors heard you. She wanted them to know that you were hers.

Your eyes are closed; your focus is on how good Natasha fucks your efforts.

"This pussy is so tight, shit." She moans out to you.

"So close, Nat, please don't stop."

And she doesn't. She works her hips like a god, her eyes fixated on how your greedy pussy swallows her cock. She's mesmerized by it all.

"Go ahead, baby, cum all over this cock." You need no other confirmation. Your eyes squeeze shut even harder, and your grip on her hips becomes stronger as high-pitched moans leave your mouth. You body slumps down on Natasha's as you catch your breath, she admires you from above.

"you did so well for me, y/n. But I don't know if I'm down with you yet, sweetheart.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x female #natasha x y/n #natasha romanov #marvel #natasha x reader #marvel smut

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thisismeracing · 3 months

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Heartdresser | LH44

― Pairing:��Lewis Hamilton x braider!reader ― Warning: mentions of a brother, social media au mixed with regular writing, tooth-rotting fluff, fem!reader (she/her); - 2.8k words + social media setting. ― Summary: When Lewis finds himself just a couple days away from a racing weekend and without his usual braids he desperately searches for suggestions of available hairdressers in the area. As the saying goes, love can come from the most unexpected places, and Lewis is about to discover that this is, in fact, true. (based on this request)

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Being a Formula One Driver had its perks, from obvious and big things such as traveling everywhere to not-so-obvious and small things like having your hair stylist travel to you when you needed them. After becoming an adult and famous, it took Lewis a couple of years to come to terms with his hair, how to style it, how to take care of it, and how to embrace the texture and volume. He felt finally whole when he reached that point, one where meaningless comments on the internet wouldn’t make him rethink his path, goals, and achievements. Of course, comments hurt, but being comfortable with yourself helped, and that was something Lewis learned.

Now, his braids were part of him. The hairstyle being associated with his image in the blink of an eye. Something that made him feel handsome, and connected with his roots. Something that seemed to help other young black boys around, who started to see themselves as stylish and handsome too.

That’s the main reason why he was so frustrated when his braider called him to tell them they couldn’t make it to Las Vegas. And the thing with braids is that it's not only a style that connects you to your roots, and makes you feel comfortable, it is also a hair protection style. Though Lewis doesn’t tell people he has superstitions and somehow it is true, part of him feels like he races better when he’s feeling himself in all senses of the word. This means having his hair in the braids he’s been looking forward to for over two weeks is something important to him.

So in the heat of the moment, he decides to look for help on Twitter.

“Hi, you must be Lewis,” you smile, extending your hands, and the man in front of you takes it in with a grin.

“Hey, good afternoon,” his grip is still thigh yet soft on your hand. “Yeah, it’s me. Thank you for having me on such short notice.” He’s handsome and polite in all the ways one should be to be considered perfect, and you start to understand why your baby brother was drawn to admire his persona outside the tracks.

You shake your head with a chuckle, “It was actually my day off, but I had no problem fitting you in since it meant Dee would get to meet you.”

“Oh- honesty is something I find hot,” he chuckles and adds a grin for good measure, all while looking straight into your eyes and you can’t help but laugh.

Add funny to the list of things Lewis Hamilton seems to be.

“Who’s Dee, by the way?”

“It’s Aiyden, my little brother. I call him Dee,” you explain before adding, “He’s finishing a Chemistry project with a few friends at school. He was tempted to skip but gave up after a pep talk on how school is important, and I would take forever doing your hair just so he could see you.”

Lewis nods while you explain, and then he’s chuckling just like minutes ago.

“I don’t mind waiting for him with you,” he winks.

You’re not sure if he’s being friendly, funny, or flirty, but any of these F words coming from the black guy in front of you are surely making your heart skip a beat.

“You can sit here while I grab everything,” you point to a chair in front of a big mirror and Lewis does as said.

“Your hair looks fire,” he comments, watching from the mirror while you go through the small saloon gathering the packs of hair and combs you would need. “Did you do it yourself?”

“Thanks,” you stop just for a second, smiling when your eyes meet. “And yeah, I did it just last weekend.”

“You look even more stunning with this style,” and just like that he has you giggling again. “I mean it. I saw your profile picture and I was convinced you couldn’t get more beautiful, and then you opened that door with a smile and these amazing braids and I was like wow.” “You’re a funny one.”

“I’ve heard some women like their man funny, is that your case? If so, I’m ready to get into stand-up comedy.”

You double with laughter, shaking your head and biting your lips to keep the funny noises inside.

“Same style you’ve sent me the picture?” Lewis nods. “Any addition or preference?” you ask, starting to section his hair, and he answers no while making himself comfortable on the chair.

And even though you joked about taking forever just so your brother would catch Lewis, you ended up really taking forever because the driver in front of you would joke around and give you flirty comments and you couldn’t help but stop to laugh. The style he wanted was fairly fast, and his curls weren’t that thick, but still, you two did a small snack break when he ordered from a vegan bakery downtown. He was a fun guy to talk to, you came to learn that pretty quickly, which only added to his face card, which certainly was never denied.

It was one of the best sessions you’ve had in a long time.

You were just finishing the final touches, adding water to boil, and cutting the small strands coming off the braids, when the bell over the door rang, announcing your little brother’s arrival. He has an incredulous expression on his face watching his idol sitting on the chair of his sister’s salon.

“Hey man, how was the chem’s project?” Lewis asks and Aiyden turns around to the door, doing a small victory dance and, probably, the most hideous expressions to conceal his eagerness and happiness.

You and Lewis laugh.

“Omg, hi, Lewis!” He finally walks to you, shaking hands with Lewis. His eyes – big orbs gleaming with excitement.

“Aren’t you gonna say hi to your sister, young man?” with your hands on your waist you furrow your brows in the direction of the curly-haired boy who smiles, engulfing your body in a big hug. You hug him back before tapping his back and fake complaining about how he was crushing you.

Aiyden had just turned fifteen, but his love for sports seemed to help him defy your DNA and grow more than your family’s average size. He was almost reaching your height, and he sure was stronger than you, but he was still just your baby boy.

“These new braids are lit, man! Told ya my sister would make it happen,” Ayiden, who still has one of his arms around your shoulders, tells Lewis with a proud smile.

The driver moves his head confidently checking his hair in the mirror, “She was a great braider, and even better company, to be honest.”

Yn rolls her eyes playfully before going back to the water and mentioning for Ayiden to take a step back. She dips the ends of the braids into the water, waiting for a bit before taking them off and draping a towel around Lewis’ broad shoulders.

“So, your sister mentioned a chem school project. How was it?”

And just like that Ayiden and Lewis are talking non-stop while you tidy the salon, watching their interaction with a fond smile. The Brit was attentive to your brother, always ready to listen rather than speak, always engaging, and making Ayiden feel comfortable to share whatever he wanted to.

He probably had no idea, but that was an easy way to get to your heart. Ayiden was your treasure, and the fact that Lewis was treating the boy as if he was his little treasure too only added to the list of things you found amazing about him.

“...right, Yn?” Dee asked and you snapped out of your daydream.

“What?”

“Lewis just invited us to the Vegas GP, I said we were going, right? Please, please, please,” he pleaded in front of you with his two hands together as if in prayer, and you bit the inside of your mouth.

“Sunday?”

“No, the whole package, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday!” he explained excitedly.

“It will be fun, c’mon,” Lewis tried.

“You have school on Friday.” You reasoned, but Ayiden was quick to explain that Friday wouldn’t be until 6 pm. “You’re the one asking Kali to get my appointments from Saturday,” pointing a finger to your brother you accepted, knowing that your friend and coworker, had a space on Saturday for a hair or two and wouldn’t mind covering so your clients wouldn’t be hanging out to dry. Still, she would probably huff and yapp before accepting. That was something that Ayiden would now deal with though, so you were all good.

Ayiden jumped up and down the same way he did when he was ten years old asking you to get him a new pair of soccer jerseys, and you accepted. It was endearing.

You talked for a few more minutes, Ayiden got his picture, and just like that Lewis was saying his farewells. This time he didn’t shake your hands, rather hugged you and you couldn’t help but breathe in his scent and relish his warmth.

“See you on Friday, guys,” he waved, showing off his perfect set of teeth.

“See you, man!”

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yourinstagram had to drive the kiddo to school today or else he would stay home choosing his weekend outfits lol (traffic is a bitch btw, so if you can avoid downtown, pls do!)

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youngdee why would you expose me like that

⤷ yourinstagram I'm your older sister, ofc I'm gonna act like a mom ❤️😘

lewishamilton nice fit, ayideen!

⤷ youngdee thank you, man! 😎

⤷ fan4490 OMG KJSDKGJSKG

charleslechair she looks so cute

⤷ charleslechair scratch that I just went through her pics

⤷ charleslechair she's hot

⤷ charleslechair and super talented

wolffmickey so its confirmed, she's the braider?

schumachinho *on my knees begging* pls, do my hair too, yn, pls pls 🧎🏾‍♀️🧎🏾‍♀️

yourfriend I spent an hour on traffic today in a road that usually takes me about ten minutes 🫠

yourfriend2 bruh, ayideen is getting bigger and bigger, I feel OLD 😭

Friday rolled around quickly and you got to watch the total amount of fifteen minutes of practice 1 before all hell broke. Ayiden explained everything to you along with the whole controversy going on with the LA Gran Prix, which you were just a tad aware of. Lewis wasn’t able to spend much time with you guys that much was expected, but whenever he found a few seconds he would pass by, ask if you guys were ok, if Dee was having fun if there was something he could do, and just overall being the goofy Lewis he was during the appointment. Ayiden seemed to find the flirtatious glances and lines funny, and so did you, except this time it felt a little more real because you were sure a few people around overheard some.

It was an amazing night, you made friends with a couple of people from the crew, and Ayiden had the time of his life meeting a few other idols, and almost started hyperventilating when Hamilton told him he would take him to meet Charles Leclerc on Sunday.

Saturday was even more of a rush, you almost didn’t see Lewis, but he texted before and after quali. So when Sunday came you were still trying to navigate the whole paddock thing, but a bit more comfortable about it. Aiyden was still acting as if it was his own version of Disney land and it was his first day discovering the adventure world. You were loving it for him, of course.

“Nice outfit,” Lewis whispers right beside you, catching you off guard and making you jump in surprise. You were in a corner, just texting a friend, and checking your next few appointments while Ayiden went to meet Charles and you thought Lewis would be there until he came back, but it wasn’t the case.

“You’re sneaky,” you chuckled, straightening your instance and looking into his face only to notice he was already staring at you.

“You look cute when you’re focused,” he winks, before adding, “and when you’re scared too.”

“You look cute when you joke like this,” throwing back at him you didn’t expect for his brows to furrow in confusion.

“You think I’m joking?”

“Aren’t you?”

Lewis giggles. He giggles and you can’t help but smile with the sound and the way his lips part while his eyes squint. “I’m not.”

“You’re not?!”

“I think you’re pretty and smart, and talented. I was genuinely flirting with you,” his explanation makes your insides turn in giddiness, and as if it wasn’t enough Lewis smiles, eyes glued on yours before he asks: “Wanna go on a date with me?”

“A date?” You repeat trying to let the idea sink.

“A date?” This time it’s Ayiden’s voice and you turn alarmed, expecting to see a confused and jealous brother, only to find him with the biggest grin ever.

“Yeah, a date,” Lewis smiles briefly to Ayiden, before staring back at you, waiting for your answer.

You blink still unsure. Fair enough, he was hot, educated, smart, and he checked all the boxes, but that wasn’t any guarantee of a successful relationship, or fling, or whatever he had in mind. And also, his lifestyle wasn’t something you were used to. How would dating him work when he’s often traveling around to drive?

“C’mon, don’t overthink it, Yn.” Ayiden comes to help, standing beside Lewis and the Brit chuckles. “It’s THE SIR Lewis Hamilton,” he points, and this time Lewis laughs.

You bit your lips, not helping but letting a smile escape.

Lewis is in front of you, hands in his pockets, big brown eyes watching you, and the smallest smile gracing the corner of his plump lips. He looked great. And as much as you wanted to deny, there was a vibe going on.

You take a deep breath, smirking at him, “Get yourself a podium and we’ll talk about a date later.”

Ayiden’s eyes widened.

“Did you forget how quali went?! It’s gonna be hell to get a podium, almost impossible,” your brother tries to reason, but Lewis shakes his head, extending his hand to which you clasp in yours.

“Deal,” the driver smiles. “I’ll get you a podium.”

Lewis squeezes Ayiden’s shoulder and winks at you before disappearing into the garage to get ready for the race.

“One more reason why he’s the goat, see? If I were you I would go on a date with him even if he didn’t get a podium.”

You laugh, “For the few things I saw, he likes the challenge. Let me indulge him.”

“You’re crazy.”

“And he’ll get a podium.”

“It’s very unlikely, but I won’t deny the possibility. It’s Lewis after all.” Your brother leans on the wall beside you. “And it looks like he wants this date bad.”

“What makes you think this?”

“C’mon, he’s been flirting with you nonstop since the hair appointment.”

“I genuinely thought he was joking.”

“You can be so clueless sometimes,” your brother rolls his eyes playfully and you slap the back of his head.

“Watch it, young man, I’m still the oldest.”

And you were still right too, because hours later Lewis impressed everyone by getting third place. He kept everyone on the edge of their seats along with Charles who did a brilliant race, and just like that your brother was grinning devilishly your way because now you had a date with no one other than Lewis Hamilton who happened to walk into the garage just as you were handling a water bottle to Dee after he ran to watch the ceremony as if his life depended on it.

Lewis was smiling brightly at you, sweat mixed with champagne, but you couldn’t help but grin right back and lace your arms around him, taking him by surprise.

“I’m all sweaty, sorry,” he whispers, his tattooed hand flatting on your bag and bringing your body closer.

“It’s fine. Congrats on the race.”

“Congrats on the race, man!” Ayiden hugs him too and Lewis smiles, eyes still trapped on you. When your brother lets him go and stays rooted in place looking from you to Lewis you trap the laugh inside, and roll your eyes fakely, pointing for the young boy to give you both some privacy.

“So, looks like I scored myself a date, huh?”

You nod, taking a small step in his direction and trying to keep your hands from tracing all the small details on his face from this up close, “You sure did.” Your eyes were now on his lips, and Lewis grinned.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You already have a date, what else do you wanna ask me?” You’re teasing and he knows it because this time he’s the one to take a step in your direction. The tips of your shoes are touching, and you can hear the rustling outside, but it’s just you two in the corridor, and you hope it stays like this for just a little longer even though you knew he had an interview in a few minutes. His company and attention are something you enjoyed having.

“With how many dates do you find it ok to kiss someone?” His playful tone is there, but his expression makes your knees almost buck. “Can we count practice, quali, and the race as dates?”

And just like that he has you laughing and grabbing his neck to close the distance and smash your lips in a very much-awaited kiss.

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yoursername best date night ever 🤍

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springwitch26 · 9 days

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flowers and firsts (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: being the gracious friend you are, you offer to share your weed with melissa and jacob for a fun friday night at their place. when jacob goes to bed, things get heated between you and your favorite coworker.

warnings: smut (18+), consensual high sex, recreational marijuana use (be responsible), strap-ons, praise kink, vibrators, soft melissa, stoner reader, attempts at comedy (it's a fun fic guys), mario kart 8 GONE SEXUAL

notes: happy 4/20. this wasn't requested, but my OCD is beating the fuck out of me rn and writing it brought me comfort. let me know what you think. much love from your favorite slutty stoner 💚

"i know kids are curious, but eighth grade is a bit early to try weed, right?" jacob bounced his leg anxiously as he raised the question to his friends in the teachers' lounge. one of his students had just been suspended for bringing marijuana to school, and jacob was characteristically worried about the kid.

"i started in tenth grade, but teenagers are growin' up younger and younger these days," melissa responded. barbara raised her eyebrows in shock, and melissa reacted with an amused half-smile. "like trouble over here. when was your first time, hon?"

you tried to ignore the innuendo as melissa invited you into the conversation. you had been hired to teach the third grade a few months ago. you and melissa had a rapport from the first moment you walked into the lounge. every time you were in a room together, you made each other laugh. melissa made you feel at ease in your new workplace, and you felt lucky to have her.

because you both got along so well, ava often paired you up for team-building exercises and combined-class activities. the two of you weren't exactly close friends yet, but you had chemistry. that much was obvious to everyone at abbott.

"tenth grade for me, too," you answered between sips of your morning coffee. "a friend and i did it in the bathroom before art class. good memories."

"what, did you have some kinda fancy vape pen?" melissa cocked an eyebrow at you.

"i wouldn't call it fancy, but yeah, we mostly smoked carts," you explained. "bought 'em from the upperclassmen in the parking lot before school. i'm pretty sure they weren't pure weed, though. we had to be smoking battery acid, or plastic or something."

"god, your generation is weird. smokin' chemicals out of a flash drive," melissa said, gesturing wildly to convey her amazement. "the first time i got high was in detention. my buddy steve would sneak in and bring us cigarettes and blunts. they all looked the same, so we played russian roulette with it. now everybody walks around with those neon devices in their pockets."

"i can't tell if you're being serious or if you're referencing the breakfast club," you giggled, nudging the redhead's shoulder jokingly as you sat down next to her.

"ha ha, very funny, little miss," melissa deadpanned. you had asked her to stop calling you "kid" a few weeks ago. she respected your wishes by coming up with all sorts of endearing synonyms to call you instead. "what about you, jacob? you used to vape—ever experimented with mary jane?"

"or mark john?" you added. melissa snorted and gave you a playful swat on the arm.

"no, actually, i haven't," jacob said, rolling his eyes at your quip. "i didn't have many friends in high school or college, and after that i had to be drug tested regularly for teachers without borders. i never got the chance."

"well, if you ever feel like trying something new, i have plenty to share," you offered. "can't have you over at my place, though; every time i bring guests around, my crazy neighbor thinks they're cia operatives."

everyone in the room except melissa gave you a shocked look. barbara looked especially aghast, her brightly painted lips curled into an 'o' shape.

"damn, i thought janine was the only after-school stoner here. what a pleasant surprise!" ava broke the silence.

"i suppose i would partake given one of those weed pens you mentioned," jacob said to you. "the only thing i've been vaping lately is air, and it gets stale after a while."

"oh no, i haven't used a cart since high school," you clarified. "if you're smoking with me, you're smoking. don't worry, it's easy. just like vaping, but better in every way."

"first of all, no smoke circle is happening under my roof without me." melissa chimed in, looking at you with a silent question in her eyes. you nodded—of course you wanted her there. "and second, where do you even get the weed? if you buy the legal stuff from new york or massachusetts, you're not bringin' it to my house."

"i wouldn't dream of it," you affirmed. "i only smoke authentic philly weed. don't worry about it; i got a guy."

---

that friday night, you showed up on melissa's doorstep wearing a casual t-shirt dress, with a tote bag full of goodies slung over your shoulder. jacob was the one to answer the door.

"hey! come on in, melissa's making pizza," he said cheerfully, a bit jittery with anticipation.

you followed jacob inside and found melissa leaning over the kitchen island, smiling fondly at you. she was wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitting striped shirt, with her hair loose and a bit messy from cooking. she looked radiant and comfortable.

"you know, the pizza will taste better if we smoke before dinner," you proposed.

"bold of you to assume my pizza could taste any better," melissa joked back.

"i'm game," jacob said. "i want the full marijuana experience."

"in that case, help me set up," you said to the history teacher. "i want you to see how everything works."

you laid the contents of your tote bag out on the island countertop: a ziploc baggie full of flower, a little purple grinder, a holographic pink bowl, and a yellow lighter with white flowers on it.

"jacob, this is a grinder," you said, uncapping the grinder and opening the ziploc bag. "we're gonna use it to break up the flower into little pieces."

"oh wow, that is... pungent," jacob remarked. he watched as you ground up the weed, then handed the pink glass bowl to him.

"and this is a bowl, or a pipe if you're lame," you said. "you wanna do the honors?"

jacob grinned and reached into the grinder, bouncing excitedly on his heels. you put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. he filled the bowl, looking to you for approval several times while he did it.

"awesome, we're ready," you said. melissa placed her pizza in the oven and joined the circle.

"let's take it out on the patio," melissa suggested.

she led you and jacob out to the patio, a small ledge overlooking the city with three chairs conveniently set up in a tight circle. it was 7pm and the sun had just begun its descent, casting philadelphia in an orange glow.

the three of you sat down. you held the bowl up to your lips and moved to light it, but melissa snatched the lighter from your hand. she leaned in and held the flame to the bowl, her face inches from yours. you tried to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than her painted lips or her vivid green eyes dancing all over you.

you took a long inhale of the smoke and blew it up toward the sky. melissa plucked the bowl out of your hand and took a hit. she held the smoke in her lungs for an impressive amount of time for someone who didn't smoke regularly. she passed the still-lit bowl to jacob.

as soon as jacob took his hit, you knew it was gonna hurt. he overestimated his own lung capacity, and he didn't even finish blowing the smoke out before he was coughing.

"happens to everybody, pal," melissa patted jacob's back to ease his pain.

"ugh!" jacob sputtered between coughs. "why didn't you guys tell me smoking hurts?"

---

several rotations later, the three of you were high. well, you and melissa were high; jacob was outright fried. not altogether unexpected, but funny as hell.

when melissa's pizza was done, you all resolved to eat outside so you could watch the sunset together.

"this is heavenly, mel," you moaned after a delicious bite of the pizza.

"ha!" jacob exclaimed, and you and melissa turned to him, confused. meeting melissa's gaze, he threw his arms up in the air—like he expected her to understand what he meant by that one noise. "she stole two syllables from your name. you can't just take syllables, y/n. they're not yours."

"since when do you care about private property rights?" you quipped back before turning your attention to melissa. "i'm serious though. this pizza is sooo good. like last-meal-on-death-row good."

"keep talkin' sweet like that, and you can call me whatever you want," melissa replied with a wink, sending a flood of warmth to your face.

"what were we talking about? just now?" jacob chimed in, his eyes wide and darting every which way.

"... i actually don't know," you said with a giggle. you tried to remember, you really did. but you could feel melissa's eyes on you, and you heard her words echoing in your head. and it was hard to focus on anything else.

"short term memory loss! add that to the list of things you guys didn't warn me about," jacob scoffed.

"jacob, eat your damn pizza," melissa cut in. a peaceful smile graced her lips as she stared out at the city skyline, now a twilight blue in the absence of the sun. "i've missed this feeling, everythin' all fuzzy and light. how are you holding up, lovebug?"

your heart fluttered at the endearing name. melissa, it seemed, wore her heart on her sleeve when she was high—judging by the adoring way she gazed at you while she awaited your response. maybe the weed was messing with your head, but you swore she'd never looked so beautiful.

her eyes lacked any trace of the fire you were used to seeing (though they were quite red). for once, she wasn't on guard. her plump lips curled around her wine glass as she took a sip of merlot, vocalizing her sensual appreciation with a hum.

her long auburn hair was tucked behind her ears, resting on her shoulders in loose waves instead of her preferred meticulous curls. you wanted to run your fingers through her locks, feel their softness and smell her shampoo.

entranced by the redhead, you forgot she had asked you a question. melissa tapped your knee in reminder.

"i feel perfect," was your soft reply. you were beaming brightly before the sentence even finished. rather than sitting in a chair, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. the colors of melissa's patio and the sky blended together in a beautiful, swirling mosaic. the sounds of the city were clear and pleasant as philly wound down for the night. "i'm so happy."

"glad to hear it, sunshine. but i'm pretty sure jacob is asleep," melissa chuckled and patted the man's shoulder. he didn't stir, remaining slumped and conked out in his chair. "he's been losin' sleep over the kid who got suspended. bending over backwards trying to keep 'em on track."

"oh gosh," you said sympathetically before patting jacob a bit more firmly than melissa had. "jacob, hey. c'mon, it's time for bed. get up, go get cozy."

your words were slurred and hushed, but they seemed to pierce the veil of jacob's slumber as he awoke with a start.

melissa stood behind jacob's chair, gently rocking it back and forth to bring him back to the conscious world.

"can't go to bed, we just started," jacob grumbled, but his eyes were still closed. he was dangerously close to falling asleep again.

"from the looks of it, you're either gonna spend the night sleepin' in this chair or in your bed, so get up," melissa said resolutely.

"yeah, and besides, there's always next time," you assured jacob as he stretched and groaned his way into an upright position. you made eye contact with melissa, and this time you winked.

---

after helping jacob into bed (his motor skills really deteriorated when he got high) and smoking another bowl together, you and melissa were ready to continue your night.

"alright, sweetheart, it's down to you and me," melissa said, sitting down next to you on the couch. "what do you wanna do?" you pondered the question, looking around the room for inspiration.

"oh my god, you have a nintendo switch?" you asked excitedly, gesturing to the black tablet plugged in next to the cable box.

"that's jacob's. he showed me one of the games on there—animal crossing, i think it was. i don't get it. why play a game if you can't win?"

"alright, i know what we have to do now," you said, walking over to jacob's game cabinet and pulling out mario kart 8. holding the case up for melissa to see, you grinned. "four races. whoever wins gets whatever she wants from the other."

you were distantly aware of the implications, but you were too high to reconsider what you'd proposed.

you figured melissa would want something from your thoroughly decorated classroom if she won. if you won, you'd ask her to make you a custom pizza.

"you have no idea what you just started, hon," melissa said with a confident smirk.

"may the best woman win."

---

how the hell was she so good at everything?

melissa had needed some time to warm up to the switch controls, complaining about how the little red rectangle was too small to hold comfortably. but she was a quick learner with skilled fingers, and soon she was absolutely demolishing you.

it also didn't help that your coordination escaped you when you were high. you had driven off of too many ledges to count.

"two wins in a row for luigi," melissa bragged as she crossed the finish line of the third race. "hope you're ready to give me whatever i want, princess. don't think i forgot about our bet."

"daisy won the first race," you pointed out calmly. "i can still bring it back. but you know what this last race has to be?"

"what?"

"rainbow road. it's the perfect final showdown course," you explained, navigating to the course with your controller.

"get ready to be mine for a night," melissa said lowly. god, you knew she was talking about the bet, but she knew damn well what she was doing. by this point your panties were almost uncomfortably wet.

you leaned into her unconsciously as the race countdown began. you both held your controllers tight, almost shoulder to shoulder.

3...

2... (you push down the gas pedal button)

1...

GO!!!

daisy took off with a boost of speed thanks to your timing. luigi had a false start as his engine blew out. you cheered, and melissa cursed.

"how the fuck do you do that?" she asked, exasperated.

"play the game!" you demanded without looking away from the screen.

the competition was intense. you and melissa weaved around curves, nearly fell off the road, passed and bumped each other. neither one of you spoke until lap 3.

coming up on one of the last turns of the last lap, your hands jerked and you swerved. reacting on instinct, you bent your arms dramatically in the other direction to overcorrect.

melissa's arm bumped into yours, sending your controller flying out of your hands.

"hey!" you said, thinking she was cheating.

"hey yourself," she said, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

if she was gonna play dirty, so were you. you thrust your arm forward to grab her controller. but she saw you coming from a mile away. effortlessly, she shifted the controller into her left hand alone and held it up and out of your reach.

desperately competitive (and stupid high), you launched yourself toward the controller. you'd stop at nothing to get even. before you could snatch it out of her grasp, though, your balance faltered. you fell out of your position and started to fall backwards off the couch.

melissa dropped the controller and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you back up before you could hurt yourself. there was only one problem with this heroic act.

you were in her lap now.

her hands remained clasped at the small of your back, and your balance shifted forward. you put your arms out for stability, and wrapped them around her neck.

"careful, don't hurt your pretty head," melissa cooed. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. she surged forward and pressed her lips to yours.

if sitting outside with her felt like floating, kissing her and feeling her body against yours felt like riding the ocean waves. but unlike the atlantic, she was warm. you relaxed into her warmth as her tongue licked into your mouth.

you felt her tongue everywhere. in response to her, you gave a few tentative kitten licks. she moaned, she moaned, and pulled back before giving you one last kiss on the lips.

she stared at you with heated eyes for a while before switching her focus to the tv.

"look, baby," she said smugly while gesturing to the tv screen, where luigi was driving victory laps after placing first on rainbow road. "i won. you remember what that means?"

it was a fair question, considering how many conversations you forgot happened tonight. still, you nodded shyly and bit your lip.

"smart girl," melissa praised. "can you guess what i want from you?"

you shook your head no with a frown. melissa beamed and kissed you on the forehead. then she leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"i wanna touch you everywhere. i wanna hear your pretty voice moan my name and see your face scrunch up when you come. i want you to feel me all over you, and i want you to spend the rest of your life craving that feeling," melissa said her piece all at once, as if revealing a long-buried secret to you and herself.

you swallowed.

"would you let me do that?"

you nodded, pressing your forehead against hers.

"i need to hear you say it," she said softly, so softly you almost missed it.

"i want you, melissa. i have since the day we met."

that was all the confirmation melissa needed to attack your face and neck with kisses.

"sorry, let me just," melissa said as she pulled away abruptly and reached for the tv remote. she changed it to cable mode and navigated to the jazz music channel. "there we go, perfect."

"you're ridiculous," you giggled upon seeing melissa's proud face.

"honey," she leaned in to nip at your ear before whispering, "watch your mouth. you wanna be on my good side tonight, trust me."

you shuddered and wiggled in her lap, aching for her touch. a slow grin spread across her face and her hands found your legs, running up your thighs and lightly dragging her nails along your skin. they soon made their way up your waist to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them. melissa even took two fingernails and circled your nipples teasingly, to which you squeaked.

"do you know how many times i thought about havin' you like this?" melissa whispered. her voice was sweet like molasses and flowed right through you. you could feel your nipples tingling where her fingers had been, swimming in a bubble of desire. "in my lap, all whiny and squirmy."

she pinched your nipple and you keened. you held your breath as her hands once again traveled to your thighs, making a beeline for your core.

"and now i got my angel in my arms," she said, gently spreading your legs for better access. you sucked in a breath and trembled when her palm caressed you through your panties. "but i gotta say, even in my imagination you were never this wet for me."

she punctuated the sentence by pressing her pointer finger on your clit through the fabric, drawing tiny circles. you gasped and hid your face in her neck. the high made every touch feel like it rippled through your whole body. the world felt like it had been knocked off its axis, and melissa was your new center of gravity.

"aw, don't be embarrassed, babygirl. it's cute you're so sensitive," melissa soothed, easing you out of the crook of her neck to face her again. she trailed her fingers down to swirl around your wetness under your panties. "let me take care of you, yeah?"

---

a few minutes later, you were spread out on melissa's bed, naked save for your (now useless) panties. she'd practically carried you to her room as you were baked and horny and unable to walk straight.

in spite of your writhing and needy whines, the redhead took her time to savor you. she kissed every inch of your torso before she even considered taking your panties off, mumbling sweet nothings between love bites.

when she finally pulled away to admire her work, the view did not disappoint. you were panting and covered in melissa's marks, and god, you were her favorite piece of art ever created. all hers.

"alright, sweet girl, i know," she cooed as you continued to plead for her touch with your best pout and puppy eyes. unable to resist you, melissa hooked two fingers in the waistband of your panties. "i'm gonna slip these off ya, okay? there, down they go."

melissa discreetly tucked the saturated material into her pocket. not as a trophy or proof of her conquest; rather, a token from the first of many magical nights with her girl. she would treasure it.

she wasted no time getting situated between your legs so she was face-to-face with your pussy. she inhaled deeply, basking in the heady aroma of your arousal. you overwhelmed her senses. everything she saw, everything she smelled, everything she felt, everything she thought—it was all one big, bottomless pool of you. and there was only one sense left for you to conquer.

the first drag of her tongue up your slit set you ablaze, flames licking from your core all the way to your extremities and your head. she let out a small noise of appreciation, and you felt it more than you heard it.

"you taste like fuckin' heaven," melissa rumbled between determined licks through your folds. her comment reminded you of the pizza, and you found yourself amused at how much things had changed in just a few hours.

"last-meal-on-death-row good?" you joked, and melissa seized the moment of levity to latch onto your clit. you cried out before remembering jacob was sleeping in the next room. you clapped a hand over your mouth.

"mhmmmmm," she moaned in agreement, and the vibrations on your bundle felt incredible. "but if you're still crackin' jokes, i'm not doin' my job."

with that, she shut you up completely. her tongue poked at your clit between harsh sucks. your back arched and melissa changed her strategy, prodding at your entrance with her tongue while her fingers took over on your clit. when her tongue penetrated you, you bit down on your hand to keep from screaming.

"i said i wanna hear you, remember?" melissa pulled out to chastise you.

"but jacob—" you managed.

"is passed out. he's dead to the world. now sing for me, angel," melissa's tongue dove back into your weeping cunt and lapped at your walls. you wailed her name.

"oh, mel, right—ahhh—there!" you mewled as her tongue teased your most sensitive spot. now that she'd located her target, melissa changed her play once again. two fingers replaced her tongue and crooked into your g-spot while her mouth returned to your clit. "close..."

melissa nodded her permission, her mouth busy with your button. with another hard roll of your clit between her lips and drive of her fingers into your sweet spot, you fell apart. you moaned and cried unbidden as she worked you through your orgasm, which felt twice as powerful thanks to the intoxication factor. your body shook in the grip of seemingly endless waves of heat.

your climax eventually died down and you squirmed away from melissa's touch. your mouth opened in dismay when instead of staying by your side, she stood up and disappeared into her closet.

after a short while, the older woman reappeared by your side. she was now nude and sporting a long, girthy strap-on. she placed a few other items on the nightstand, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the thick faux cock. unless it was to look at her gorgeous tits, which swung with her every move. she was a goddess.

"okay, sweets, i'm gonna spell this out nice and slow because i know your brain is a little messy right now," she said as she crawled on top of you. "i'm gonna fuck you with my strap. and i know it's so big, but i have this to help you take it."

melissa reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a green mini wand vibrator. her intentions were clear, and you gulped. the redhead peppered kisses all over your face in reassurance.

"now relax, little love. let me in," melissa instructed as the wand buzzed to life. she smeared your wetness around your clit with her fingers, then pulled back its hood to position the vibrator tightly against your nub. even the lowest setting was a shock at such a direct angle.

while you were distracted trying to adjust to the clitoral stimulation, melissa aligned the tip of the dildo with your entrance and pushed in. you both groaned, and you felt yourself stretch around the toy. melissa turned up the vibrations on your clit as she progressed to being fully seated inside you.

"that's a good girl, so brave," melissa cooed. you thrashed underneath her, the sensations overstimulating you. the pain of the intrusion staved off a powerful orgasm from the wand vibrator.

again, you wondered if the drugs were messing with your mind—the dildo felt indistinguishable from a part of mel's body, and you were full to the brim of her.

as she began to rock her hips back and forth, you saw her bite her lip. you assumed that the strap had some kind of clit attachment for her based on the telltale signs of pleasure.

melissa built up a steady rhythm and drank in your pathetic sounds of pleasure. her tits swung in your face with every thrust, and you made a mental note to give them proper attention next time. with another tactical increase to the wand's speed, you felt yourself approaching the edge once more.

"you gettin' close? yeah, i can tell. feels too good to hide it, huh bunny?" that was a new one. you clenched at her words and she set the wand to its maximum power, rubbing it up and down on your clit. your vision went white and you spun out of reality as you came. "that's my girl. good little princess, coming so hard for me."

with a few more thrusts, melissa also came to a release. she shuddered and shimmied her hips at random while she rode it out. as soon as she recovered, she turned off the green wand and relieved you. next, she eased herself out of and off of you.

with a chaste peck to your lips, she sat upright and reached for the nightstand. she smiled at your fucked-out expression as she laid out the pajamas she'd picked out for you.

you watched in awe as she took off the strap and put on her own sleep clothes. her red hair was wild from the night's activities and glowed like a warm hearth against the white backdrop of her walls.

in your state, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with melissa and fall asleep. but she insisted that you get ready for bed so that you'd be comfortable through the night. she guided you into the bathroom and gave you a new toothbrush to use.

returning to the bedroom, you found a silky green nightgown with flowers on it waiting on the bed for you. given your exhausted and intoxicated state, melissa had to help you into it. neither of you minded. as a reward for your cooperation, she gave you a kiss.

the two of you snuggled into bed, tucked in together with you curled up against her chest. the tides of slumber lapped at your feet.

"g'night, lovebug," melissa whispered as you drifted off. "sleep well. see you in the morning."

and tomorrow would be the first of a lifetime of tomorrows waking up in her arms.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x y/n #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti smut #wlw smut #4/20 friendly #stoner fic #fanfic

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loaksbitch · 1 year

Text

imagine drunk and wasted jake tell you how he wants to fuck your brains out while making you say your name and you don’t know how to spell it correctly. — yes? YES

warnings - like i always say jake sully is his own warnings!! oh and, dirty talking, drunk jake being a whore, and some tiny bit of “omg so funny but not funny” moment, jake leaves you all wet :’) like leaves you wet… i think that’s it!! <3 (⨳)

you have a drunk jake sully in front of you.

a wasted one actually, and every second ticks it’s driving you insane.

your mate, sat on the edge of the bed with blowed and dilated pupils follow your movements like a lost puppy. “i told you jake! i told you not to get involved with those alcoholic na’vi’s out there…” you hiss silently as you collect some patching equipments from the drawer to treat his scratches.

“not only that but played a stupid game that risked your life?” you glare was enough to shut him before he could fight back.

on eywa you swore he’s such a child!

“sorry,” a silenced but still loud for your ears voice from jake makes you roll your eyes. “as if you won’t repeat it tomorrow.” his ears are flattened that you’ve ever saw them before and you didn’t know how much jake hates himself when he gets you upset or angry with him

without even asking, you strangle his strong thighs and sit on them as you get your kit ready. “don’t move or else it’ll hurt.” you say as you squeeze on the ointment on the q tip before lightly leaning to your mates face and smearing it on his scratched cheekbones

jake hisses and lets a slight growl out before his eyes land on yours. your mate doesn’t hesitate to tell you how pretty you are but right now? it was so much more than pretty.

your concerned face as you check all over his face for another cut that needs treatment, small nose scrunching ever so slightly when you watch him hiss in pain. “it’s okay” you tell him in a whisper and his cock twitches to your words

maybe he’s so fucking drunk that your comforting words are like a phrasing to him that’s makes his growing bulge against your ass that’s seated on him. “my pretty girl.” he suddenly states and cheeky grin on his face and you roll your eyes

“if you’re trying to make me feel good, it won’t work.” you say it in an innocent way. but jake’s mind was far from innocent right not. “i can make you feel good though.” he frowns making you sigh and lean back to scan his whole face

is he stupid? you think before shaking your head at him in disbelief. “not really, i’m very much upset on you right now.” you resist but his next words makes you almost drop the q tip on his thigh

“me fucking you won’t make you feel good?”

silence.

everything goes quiet except for your rapidly growing breath and his deep and calculated breath that’s gonna drive you insane. “mhm, baby?” jake nudges your nose with his, running his nose straight to your soft and heating up cheeks.

“j-jake, you need to… um— i need treat your scratches.” your mind is going blank to what he’d just said. “no.” he states, “don’t you wanna know what went in my mind when i was thinking about you the whole day?” you’re so silent at this.

“when you showed of how you belong to me? when you were training me? fuck pretty girl you’ve no idea how it made me stir for you.”

his hands, huge hands are now on your hips almost slightly grinding you to his growing bulge. “feel that? that’s for my princess.” you’re out of words, cheeks heating up and moisture leaking out of you

what the heck did those alcoholic na’vi’s gave him as a drink?

“jake, you’re drunk” you start to get yourself off from your mate before things get more heated up and you end up riding him. “no.” you’re yanked back to his fully erect and visible cock through his loincloth. “i wanna tell you…”

“tell you how i wanna put you in all positions while i fuck you and make you scream.” oh eywa, the air is getting hot and suffocating. “wanna fuck you while you’re in top of me, begging me to stop.”

oh you would never tell him to stop.

“ma jake, you’ve to sleep your horny-ness off now mhm?” you cup his cheek and realize he’s hot, very hot on the skin. “oh fuck your hands are so small.” your ears perk up and flatten with excitement while jake’s eyes burns your soul

“you know princess, you’re so fucking tiny.” his palm suddenly press onto your slim stomach and he licks his lips before nodding. “so tiny i would be up and pocking your tummy right here”

you only let a gasp out, “yeah? like the idea of that?” you’re embarrassed when he doesn’t fail to notice your silent moan and your hips grinding on his time to time. “no!” you hiss, hands free from the objects you were holding to treat jake

“you rutting on my cock says the other though.” his cocky grin makes you want to slap him.

you don’t know what they gave him to drink but fuck you want to drink it too. so you can confidently tell him what you want him to do to you.

“just like that,” his hands tighten their grip on you as he moves you faster.

jake was grateful that na’vi’s had at least a loincloth to cover their private parts but right now? he hated how it was a barrier from him rutting to you ‘till you can’t pronounce your name

“the slight image if you trying to say your name straight when i fuck you makes me want to do it now baby.” one of his hands comes up to your cheeks and you close your eyes, leaning to them.

“even your face is so small compared to my hand.”

that’s it, jake fucking sully have a size kink.

“jake,” you whine and the atmosphere completely changes. you’re now getting scooped up and getting laid on the mat of the hammock. your eyes run a marathon when jake leaned back so he could straighten himself before grinding to your burning heat

“so pretty,” you face the other side when jake places a kiss on your cheek. “my pretty girl.” breast pressed to his firm chest to how close you are, jake doesn’t care for the fact his whole weight is on you

he’s horny, tired and drained while wanting to fuck you, cuddle you and sleep.

you feel your mate trailing kisses down your jaw to the curve of your neck and suddenly stop his tracks before falling on you, hard. “jake?” you mutter out but no answer except a soft snore.

this can’t be..,“are you sleeping right now?” you ask as if it wasn’t obvious.

did your man just came home scratched, apologized, told you how he wasn’t joking and confessed how he wants to fuck you, then got you went and slept? yes , yes he did. you’re in disbelief when jake keeps lightly snoring and you huff pushing him off from your body

he’s so gonna pay for this in the morning, you get yourself composed and get up to go and get changed with your damp clothes. “don’t go…” you hear your man whisper and scoff

“asshole” is what you only say and watch him whine before getting off from the mat and leave to change for extra loincloth.

once you’re back, you can’t help but slightly smile at the tired man displayed in front of you. a pure sigh leaves his lips as you walk and join him to sleep with you.

your presence kinda wakes him and he scoots to you before wrapping his arms on you like a child. “i missed you.” have i mentioned how he’s such a baby? oml. ��hm, missed you too.”

“go to sleep, ma jake or you’ll have a worse headache tomorrow.” gladly jake only hums and drifts to sleep as you follow him too. before you do, you hear a small “i love you” from your mate that makes your heart jump.

“i love you too.” you say.

chokes cause this is corny but i like it somehow? idk but it went good 🤷🏽‍♀️ anyways i love each and everyone of you guys!! like + reblog is so appreciated and not pressured ** mwah!!

tags @evanpetersluver @tysukets

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eupheme · 1 year

Text

— take it slow

joel miller x f!reader

Rated E - 3.2k

tags - soft smut, established relationship, sloppy make out session, softdom!joel, grinding/dry humping, teensy bit of jealousy, teasing, begging, PiV, 1 spank, creampie

A/N: one-shot! (but could be read as a sequel to renegade)

“I want you to kiss me until I’m begging for it.” You can barely make out his eyes in the dim light, the dark glitter as they drop to your mouth.

“And then you can have me any way you’d like.”

The couch creaks as you shift your weight on it - the old frame worn down after the years. No longer built for a family. Barely strong enough for two.

But this is better, his thigh fitting snug between yours. Giving you another few inches to move closer, while your lips press against his neck.

It’s cold - the sun fleeing the sky before dinner. The clouds above heavy and grey, the cry of the wind and a steady swirl of snowflakes keeping everyone inside.

That chill is what has you here, sharing a couch with him. The body heat warming you both - the two of you at a loss, the sudden storm wiping out any carefully-laid plans.

So used to never being able to take a breath.

Funny that after the earth came to a stop, there never seemed to be enough time.

His skin is hot under your mouth. The flex of his muscles as he swallows, jumping beneath your tongue as it peeks out to taste him.

With this angle, you can feel him. A rock of his hips, a strong thigh pressing against your core. The nudge of his clothed cock dragging across your inner thigh, hip.

Your teeth scrape his jaw on the way to his mouth, your own fingers smoothing across a half-unbuttoned shirt. Sliding over worn fabric, the coarse hair dusting over his sternum.

Eventually traveling up. The rough sound in his throat as his lips press to yours. Another shift as he tugs you closer, a bright spark seeming to throb in your core as his tongue brushes your lip.

The hand at the small of your back drifting down, to the waistband of your prized pair of sweatpants. Rolled up at the ankle and pilling - but after everything, it feels like a soft luxury.

Sliding under the fabric, against the swell of your ass at he starts to tug it down.

But you want more of this. The soft gasps as Joel’s lips slot with yours, as your tongue meets his. The way he leans into it - his licking into your mouth - as your hips roll again.

Everything was so rushed, now. Barely enough hours or energy for a slow seduction - a quick brush of mouths and fumbling hands was usually all you had time for.

“Wait.” You gasp into his mouth.

He goes still. Leaning back, as his hand withdraws.

“What is it?” Joel’s voice is a low drawl, the mark between his brows deepening.

“Sorry. Nothing is wrong.” Your hands smooth over his chest, “Just… can we do this, a little longer?”

This was nice. Finally warm and half-dressed and kissing him. You think you could do this all night. It’s been years since you kissed someone like you used to.

Close to ten years, you think. Not since college. Not since it happened.

Soft things that turned messy, teeth and tongue as something low in your belly built and built. The need that grew until your were both desperate.

“This?” He asks - always wanting to know the details, seeking clarification.

“Yes, this.”

You mouth tips up, but he stays just out of reach. Waiting for more, until you’re sucking in a breath. Your answer coming as an exhale, the confession of what you truly want.

“I want you to kiss me until I’m begging for it.�� You can barely make out his eyes in the dim light, the dark glitter as they drop to your mouth.

“And then you can have me any way you’d like.”

He makes a sound then, a low noise in his throat.

Joel wasn’t kissed often. There were years where he hadn’t been kissed at all. It can be easier that way, sometimes.

There was something too intimate about it. Something he never had to worry about before - but that was a different lifetime, now.

But you’re soft and sweet.

And he thinks he likes kissing you. Likes the little moan in your throat when he licks into your mouth.

When he kisses down your stomach. To where you’re so warm and wet for him. It’s easy then, he knows he likes kissing you there. His own groans hidden under your cries as he fucks you with his tongue.

Much less vulnerable.

He doesn’t know how to answer, so he deflects.

“You already beg for it, whether or not I kiss you.”

His words, so deep and smooth, make you clench. Fingers twisting in his shirt, another button slipping free.

You both know you do. He’s able to wind you up like no one else. Just thinking about him gets you squirming, and you can’t pretend that you don’t already need him now.

“Sure do.” You huff a laugh, an acknowledgment, “Don’t have time to make out like a couple of college kids. But I miss that sometimes, you know?”

He watches you, a tilt of his head. There’s a shine on his lower lip from your own tongue, a flutter in your stomach as you think about it.

Joel hums, and you frown.

“We have time tonight, don’t we?” You ask, and then you’re pushing yourself up on an elbow, “Are there other things we need to be doing?

It’s half-rhetorical, half-confirming.

There’s a few things he could be getting to.

Cleaning his gear properly, instead of the quick wipe down from yesterday. Finally taking a look at the sink in the kitchen, that slow drip that’s been going on for about a week, now.

But then again, it’s cold. And you’re warm and in his arms, and if he’s being honest - he wouldn’t mind staying like this.

For a long time.

He could leave the sink. With the freezing temperatures, he would have needed to leave it running anyways.

Your voice breaks his train of thought.

“Please, Joel.”

He can pretend it’s your idea.

That he’s doing this just for you.

A hand cups the back of your neck, twisting in your hair. Holding you in place as his mouth lifts to press to yours again.

You moan gratefully, kissing him. Shifting against him as your hand cups the back of his, feeling the curls with your fingertips.

Another whine as it turns a little sloppy - his teeth scraping over your lower lip, his other hand finding your breast over your top. Palming you, the brush of his thumb as you arch into him.

Rocking against his thigh, the press against your core easing a bit of the ache that has you so worked up already.

Fingers pinch the tight bud of your nipple. His mouth dropping to your chin, lips dragging to the hollow under your ear. All the things he does to you when you’re bare, the sensations dampened with the layers of clothes.

But the memories are fresh.

Your own hands wander. Plucking the last of the buttons free. Roaming over scarred skin, feeling the muscles jump under your palms. His own hips grinding into yours, starting a slow rhythm, as his hand drops from your hair to curve around your waist.

Holding you against him. The brush of his facial hair against your neck as his lips seal against your skin. Sucking a bruise for later, marking you for himself.

In the dark like this, all the hard edges soften. Going blurry and fuzzy, your thoughts going with them.

“Joel,” You moan, meeting the rock of his hips. The seam of your sweatpants rubbing against your clit - his mouth an accelerant to the pleasure that burns in your belly.

His lips lift from your neck, “You beggin’ already, honey?”

Fuck, you’re tempted. It would be so easy to say yes - for him to give you what your both need.

“Not yet.” You manage, in a voice that’s almost level.

The smooth hum of his laugh is like sin.

“Guess I’ll have to try harder, then.”

His hand drifts low, again. To your waistband, and then under the fabric of your shirt. Palm flat against hot skin as his fingers trace patterns, rising higher.

Your mouth finding his greedily again, and this time it’s your tongue brushing against his lip, waiting for them to part for you.

As his fingers tug down the cups of your worn bra, knuckles sliding over the tight peaks beneath.

The moan seems to come from your chest, high and long - pushing into his touch. Letting him move you with him, the steady grind where you need it most enough that you’re sure you’re dripping and soaked beneath.

Your fingers skating lower - down past where his shirt hangs open. Tracing the dark trail of hair that disappears below his jeans, your hand cupping where he’s thick and hard for you.

He grunts with your touch, a harsh thrust that presses you against the back cushions of the couch.

Before he’s curving over you, and you’re pressed half-beneath him. His hips grinding against yours, your hand.

Leaning back, his eyes opening. His gaze heated, burning for you, “You touch the others like this, while you were makin’ out?”

Your fingers flex against him, the tips dragging over where his length presses against the fabric. Back and forth, your answer coming out breathless, “Only if I liked them.”

He inhales a breath, hissed through clenched teeth. The word “fuck” ground out, a harsh bite to it as your lips press against his jaw.

“What about you, cowboy?” You ask, your voice rasping with want, “You drive all the girls crazy like this?”

There’s a look in his eyes, as he hovers above you. A moment where his guard drops, his voice low and smooth.

“Only if I-”

Even though the words cut off, they feel as sweet as the honey of his voice. It’s not the same admittance as yours.

But for Joel, it was more than enough.

He swallows, and you come to his rescue. Bringing out mouth to his. He doesn’t have to continue.

Because by now, you know.

The hand at your breast mirroring your own. Trailing down, working between his thigh and yours so he can touch you. Fingers pressing against your cunt over the thick fabric of your sweatpants.

Slow circles right where you need it, as you moan again. Pressing the damp fabric against your slick skin, over and over.

The touch isn’t enough - too teasing, too slow. Your breaths growing shorter, gasping as you rut into each other’s touch, until it’s too much.

“Okay, okay.” You whine, your fingers fumbling to the button on his jeans, “Fuck, Joel. I can’t-“

He lets you tug his zipper down, easing some of the pressure, before his hand grabs your wrist.

“Show me how much you want it.”

You blink up at him - lips parted, brow pinched. Making a needy sound in your throat, but all he does is ease back, holding himself over you.

Leaving you to tug your shirt up, show him the soft curves of your breasts. The pretty peek of your nipples from your bra, from where he tugged it down.

A shift of your legs as you work the waistband of your sweats and underwear down, your knees falling open. Baring yourself to him.

His eyes dropping down, to where you’re glistening. Dripping - not used to the slow tease anymore.

Joel’s hand moves without thought, fingers sliding over slicked skin. Your moan bursting loudly from your chest when a calloused tip drags over your clit, your hips jerking into his hand.

“Joel, please-”

He hums, low in his throat, “Turn over, darlin’.”

Rocking back onto his heels so you can roll over, push up onto your knees. Hands bracing on the padded arm of the couch, your back arched as you glance over your shoulder.

Watching as his shoulders roll, the shirt dropping on the couch. Broad hands tugging at his jeans, unable to help watching him pull his cock free, hanging flushed and heavy.

His fist closes around the base, the other bracing on the small of your back. Dragging himself against your slit, smearing his length with your arousal.

You’re bracing yourself - ready for the sweet stretch when he presses into you. Shifting and eager as your fingernails press into the fabric.

But he doesn’t. His cock dragging against you again, pulling away when you rock back against him.

“Joel.” You bite out, glancing back again.

His eyes are fixed down, and the heat in your chest creeps up to your ears. Where he’s looking at you, all of you.

The tip presses against you, parting your swollen folds. Barely nudging inside, as you sigh - before he’s drawing back again.

Before doing it again.

You whine, rocking back again. The hand on your back keeps you from moving too much - from taking more of him.

“Keep beggin’.” Joel’s voice is ragged, the words drawn out, “Once more, for me.”

Fuck. He’s cruel - turning your own word against you like that.

“Please fuck me.” You beg, just like he asked, “Joel, I need you so fucking bad.”

Months ago, it would have been “I need your cock so fucking bad.”

You both know it - you’d been so careful with your words back then.

It does something to him, finally giving you what you need. Fitting himself into you - filling you - as you moan at the stretch.

His own sound, echoing yours.

Until his hips are flush with your ass, and you’re already squirming back against him. Your release simmering with all the teasing, his words.

It’s funny how things work, now. Words meaning more and less at the same time.

Not many spoken when you fell into bed together, the first time.

Fewer, the night when you snuck in for the last time. How you had just stayed - a silent offering late one night, and an equally silent acceptance.

For all the communication needed in the day-to-day, sometimes words weren’t needed if things were working out right.

And they were, because your things have mixed with us. His shirts on your back when you go out. Your scent on his pillows and on some mornings, he finds himself wanting to stay for just a moment longer.

Wanting to keep you for himself.

Like he’s wanting now.

There’s something about seeing you like this - eyes glassy and half-lidded when you look back at him. As his hips work in quick circles, all those words in your head getting lost on their way to your lips.

How tight and warm you are around him, how you thrust back to meet him because it’s never deep or close enough.

He never leaves you waiting long. Drawing back before he fills you again. The sound of skin-on-skin, and the wet suck as you take him.

Heavy breaths and the creak of the couch as he sets a rhythm that sends sparks up in your head.

You won’t be able to hold on for long. He’s deep like this, hands on your hips, tugging you back as he drags against your inner walls.

The sound you make is just noise - a long, high whine, your eyes closing. Focusing on the swift coil in your belly, each stroke winding it tighter.

He can’t fuck you like he wants to. The couch is too old, wouldn’t survive the way he wants to pound into. The old girl would break, and you’d end up sitting on the floor for the next month while he looked for something else.

But it works, this way. Each thrust deep and long and slow, as you concentrate on where you’re connected. Each one knocking you higher and higher.

“Fuck.” The rasp of his voice has your eyes fluttering open, the hand on your back tracing around your hip, then thigh, “Makin’ all those pretty noises. You gonna come already?”

You hadn’t realized you had - each of your breaths open-mouthed, ragged gasps. When his fingers reach their destination, pressing down against your clit, you keen.

“Yes. Oh my god, please-”

He makes a low groan in his throat, fingertips teasing the tight bud as his hips snap just a little bit faster.

“Did they fuck you like this?”

You can barely breathe, right on the cusp. About to fall over. It takes you a second to realize he’s asking about those boys again - all those years ago. Never taking him for the jealous type, but maybe he’s as good at hiding things as you are.

“Make you come as hard as I do?”

Or maybe - he just likes hearing how much you want him.

“No.” The word is ragged, a rough gasp, “J-Just you, Joel. Only you-”

Your voice cuts off, failing you. Turning into a long moan as you’re there - hurtling off the cliff. A hand comes down to crack against your ass, more sound than pain, and it’s enough to tip you over.

Crying out with relief as you come hard, pulsing around his cock. Gripping him as he fucks you through it, his fingers rubbing until you’re grasping at his wrist, holding them still.

You weren’t stroking his ego - only Joel makes you come like this, makes you see stars. Turning you into a mess as you soak his cock, as he tells you just how fucking good you feel.

Joel’s grown tired of a lot of things, but not this. Your pretty sounds, the tight, hot flutter. His name on your lips, sounding like salvation.

How you want him. Need him.

He can’t deny there was something about this, tonight. Won’t say it out loud, but he too was affected by the soft touches, the slow build. The pressure ignited low in his own belly, even before he sunk into you.

Liking the way you wanted. How you begged.

Delayed gratification, he notes for later - tucking it away.

One of the last coherent thoughts before his thrusts turn shallow and quick. Unable to help but follow, gritting out a string of curses as he finds his end. One of them standing out, because you know it. It’s a part of you, bone-deep.

Your name.

Pretty on his lips as you feel him flood you. Warmth spreading as his hands curl around your hips, pulling them flush against his own. Letting you milk every drop as you clench down.

It’s new. Something you haven’t done with him until recently, but you like how he feels in you. The way he curves over your back, an arm wrapped around you to keep you tugged close. The slight twitch of his cock, the pulse that slows ebbs until he starts to go soft.

Staying like that, for just a second. Hands sweeping over skin as your head turns. One last press of his mouth to yours, sharing a sigh.

Before he’s gently easing from you. Sitting down heavily on the sofa with a deep, contented groan. As you follow, twisting around - legs feeling like jelly.

Before you push yourself up, a cozy warmth spreading from fingers to your toes - before padding off to the bathroom to clean up.

Leaving him on the couch, where the cushions are still warm from where you laid beneath him. He fits himself into the space, waiting for you to come back, for his own turn.

Head turned to look out the window. The chipped white frame with it’s locked latches. Almost looking like a painting, with the quiet streets outside, the swirl of drifting flakes that still fall down. Just as heavy as before.

He thinks… maybe he wouldn’t mind.

If it kept snowing.

Would love to know what you thought! 💕 Thank you for reading!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine

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lynnielovestlou · 4 months

Text

ellie williams: "goddamn candy cane"

꩜ synopsis: ellie fucks you with a candy cane

꩜ content warning: dom! ellie , sub! reader , oral (r receiving) , christmas time , foreign object use (r receiving) , cum eating (kinda??) , mention of menstruation , pet names , if i missed anything lmk!

꩜ a/n: this is probably the sickest thing i've written, lmao. also, don't mimic this unless u want an infection <3

nsfw!! men dni.

masterlist

☆—-------------------------------------------------------------—☆

You honestly, truly, and totally didn't intend to be in this situation. It was one of those things that crossed your mind once, but you never thought it would actually happen.

It started two days ago, when your girlfriend, Ellie, came back from the supermarket with a bag of peppermint candy canes. Of course she had to get the ones that were thick and girthy instead of the normal ones. You had just gotten off your period, so you were horny out of your mind and you didn't know how to keep up with it.

But when the idea popped into your mind, you couldn't get it out.

Now you were sitting in the living room next to Ellie. The entire apartment is decked out with the Christmas decorations Ellie put up. She surprised you with it when you came home from work, saving you the hassle of getting the decor out of storage.

She's twisting and twirling the candy over her tongue while the two of you were snuggled underneath a fluffy blanket. One of those claymation Christmas movies was playing on the TV, but you weren't paying any attention. The only thing on your mind was the dampness in your panties and the way that Ellie's course hand was resting on the plush of your thigh.

You sink down into the soft cushions, adjusting the way you're sitting so her hand inevitably slides closer to your core.

Nothing goes unnoticed around Ellie fucking Williams.

She raises and eyebrow, giving your bare thigh a few soft taps, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You lie, squeezing her hand in between your legs.

She lets out a rumble from the back of her throat, almost like a laugh at your efforts to get her to touch you, "You're horny again?" She almost laughs.

You playfully elbow her, "Don't laugh at me."

"I'm sorry, baby. I just think it's funny because we've been fucking like bunnies all week." It's true. Every single day this week, her strap had been buried deep in your cunt. Somehow, the two of you managed to do it nine times in a mere seven days. It's definitely the neediest you've ever been. And the most insatiable.

You feel a certain heat rise to your cheeks. That wasn't the only place that felt hot.

She sigh, tossing the blanket aside, "I'll get my strap."

You'd never objected to her using the strap-on. But boy did you speak up quickly, "Not this time."

Her eyebrows furrow, "You'd rather my fingers?"

You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth, almost too hesitant to ask for what you want, "Not quite..."

"What do you-" Before she can finish her sentence she notices your gaze laying on the candy cane between her fingers. Her jaw hangs open for a good three seconds, "Seriously?"

You nod sheepishly.

"You... you seriously want this to be... up there?" She knew you were bold, but she never could've ever imagined you'd ask her to fuck you with a goddamn candy cane.

Her surprised expression turns neutral. She shrugs, biting off the sharp end of the candy cane before finding her spot back on the couch. She nudges your shoulders down so you're laying on your back, then her fingers hook into your belt loop. She yanks your jeans down and off your body, her eyes widening when she sees the damn spot over your panties, "Damn, mama. Wet already, hm?"

Out of embarrassment, you cover your face. But she doesn't let that slide. She grabs your wrists and guides your hands away from your face. "Uh-uh. Let me see you."

She rubs her fingers over your slick, clothed folds. You whine in retaliation, her speed too agonizing to bear.

She licks her teeth, unconcerned with your needs, "Let me take my time with you." She rubs your clit a few times before pulling your lace panties down your hips. She throws them elsewhere in the room, gasping slightly at your leaky hole, "All this for me? You wanted me this bad, huh?"

"Ellie—"

"I know, baby, I know. I'm gonna take good care of you. I promise." She rubs one of her fingers through your folds, running her thumb along the edge of your hole before licking her candy cane one more time, "You're absolutely sure?"

You nod eagerly, spreading your legs further for her. She sighs, unable to believe she's about to fuck her girlfriend with a goddamn candy cane. She traces the sticky treat around your hole, mimicking the movements of her finger from earlier, before she thrusts the thick candy cane into you.

You gasp a little, your walls clenching around the candy cane like your body was welcoming it in. Ellie rubs your clit with one hand, thrusting in and out with the other. The stimulation drives you absolutely crazy, and you were definitely horny enough to get off on this.

"Feel good, baby? Your pussy is so pretty." She coos, reveling in the fact that the red from the candy cane is rubbing off on your folds.

Her words were enough to push you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a ton of bricks. It was euphoric.

Once you come down from it, Ellie didn't hesitate to pull out, pressing a final kiss to your clit before sticking the candy cane back into her mouth with a grin.

#lynnielovestlou #lesbian #the last of us #queer #ellie williams #fanfiction #fanfic #lesbian smut #ellie williams smut #oh my god i need her so bad #christmas

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theemporium · 1 year

Note

james potter is an act of services kind of guy... like he'll want to hold everything you're holding, or help you with something, drive you somewhere. he'd do anything to help you... "here bird, i got it." "no, jamie you're already holding most of it. i can hold two bags." "yeah, i know but you don't have to, you have me for that."

he is such a gentleman, i adore him🥹thank you for requesting!🖤

James Potter was born and raised to be a gentleman.

Whether it was because he was from a pureblood family or because Euphemia and Fleamont Potter would rather dig their own grave before their son grew up to be anything but, James was a gentleman at his core and nothing could shake that mindset from him.

It was something everyone saw in him: whether it was opening the door for professors so they could pass before him, or filling up cups of pumpkin juice around him at dinner when he goes to refill his own—James Potter was a gentleman.

And that only grew tenfold when you started dating him.

“This is ridiculous,” you told him as you both walked along Diagon Alley. You wanted a day out and you had errands to run, but James insisted on joining you and making a bit of an impromptu date out of it.

However, what you weren’t expecting (your own mistake, you should know him by now) was for your boyfriend to insist on carrying every single one of your bags.

“What do you mean, love?” he asked you as he handed you the iced drink he purchased from a stall a few moments ago, knowing full well that the heat and bustling crowds were starting to get to you even if you didn’t say anything to him.

“This!” you said as you took the drink nonetheless, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you murmured a soft ‘thanks’ against his skin. “At least let me take a few of the bags, Jamie.”

James blanched. “Absolutely not, love.”

You shot him a look. “I probably look like an arse,” you murmured as you glanced around at the wizards and witches rushing in and out of shops. “Making my boyfriend carry everything and follow me like a slave.”

“I’d love to be your slave, baby,” James replied and your glare only hardened.

“This isn’t funny,” you said when you noticed he was biting back his laughter.

“Love, it really is,” he said, his grin breaking through when he watched you sip on your drink with a grumpy look on your face. “I like spoiling you. It’s not a crime to want to spoil my girl.”

“Oh please,” you murmured. “I am about one hex away from binding your hands together so you stop paying for stuff.”

“Not my fault you’re slow,” he teased, happily taking a sip of your drink when you offered it to him. “If I have the money and muscles to spoil my girl, I should be able to do so.”

“But I wanna spoil you back,” you said, almost whining like a child. “This needs to be a fair relationship, James.”

“You wanna spoil me, baby?”

You nodded.

“Then you can ride that pretty cunt on my face later,” he whispered to you, watching in delight as your cheeks flushed in response. “Then we can call it even.”

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mx-pastelwriting · 1 year

Text

MHA Heroes HC - How They'd React Bruises on Reader after a night.

Heroes x GN! Reader

Summary: Heroes reaction to bruises on reader after a night of sex.

Warnings: Light Mentions of past sex acts, Bruising on Reader, Fluff, Established Relationship

Characters: Endeavor (Enji Todoroki), Gang Orca (Kugo Sakamata), Eraserhead (Shota Aizawa), Vlad King (Sekijiro Kan), Fat Gum (Taishiro Toyomitsu)

Minors do not interact!

Endeavor (Enji Todoroki)

-Wouldn't notice until the morning, when you are still sleeping off the night's events.

-When he does notice them, he softly traces them; he kind of likes them, though he quickly changes his tune when you groan at the pain when you start to wake.

-You had bruises on your hips and thighs; some might have some surface burn as well, as Enji can get a little wild.

-Aftercare he takes very seriously. He makes sure you're comfortable in bed and gets you ice packs wrapped in a thin towel.

"Thank you," you say quietly, the pain lessened by the coolness. Enji hadn't apologized, but you didn't want him to because the night had been incredible and there was nothing you could ask him to do differently.

You did appreciate that he took the day off to cuddle you in bed, just in case the ice packs were too much. "I love you," he whispers into your shoulder skin as he lays his head. You place yours on top and say, "I love you too", His arm is wrapped softly around your waist so as not to disturb your nerves. Furthermore, you knew he was somewhat sorry for putting you in pain, but the imprint on your skin made his mind swirl with heat.

Gang Orca (Kugo Sakamata)

-Would notice as he's getting ready for work and him taking care of you would wake you.

-Apologizing every minute as he places an ice packs on your hips and arm.

-Would ask if anything else hurts; if the answer is yes, he would melt into the floor with guilt, but after reassuring him you're not dying, you would both laugh it off.

-He would call off work against your wishes; he would take care of you the whole day, helping you to the bathroom, but you reminded him you weren't glass.

"How badly does it hurt, angel?" Kugo gently asks his hand to hold yours. You smiled and shook your head; you weren’t dying, but he made it seem so. "Kugo, it's fine." "It's not fine, Angelfish; I hurt you." His voice was filled with guilt. "Yes, but you didn't mean to." Trying to clam him was an easy task, but you placed your hand on his face, hoping to get him to drop it. "Okay, but let me know if you need anything," he says, snuggling closer to you. He pulled you gently close to him, having you lay on his chest and hear his now calm heartbeat.

Eraserhead (Shota Aizawa)

-Would notice after he gets home from work and sees you walking funny.

-Asks if you're okay, and you show him his work on you, he goes into caring mode, asking if you’re okay and why didn't you tell him.

-After explaining yourself, he would have you sit down to rest, he would cook dinner, and have you resting up with blankets cuddling you.

-Going to bed, he would gently cuddle you, wondering if he should call into work tomorrow to get the day off, but you begged to have him decide in the morning.

His hand gently wraps around your shoulder to your back, not wanting to touch the bruises that mark your waist and thighs. "Tell me if anything hurts," he whispers, but all he gets from you is a quiet hum. You dig your head into his chest, hearing his soft heartbeat and breathing.

Through the night, you wake up to his phone ringing. Aizawa groans as he shifts, bumping into your thigh. You whine at the pain, causing him to jump up and say, "I'm sorry, where did I hurt you?" He says in a panic, "It's fine, just answer the phone." You grumble, though you're not upset at him, just at the ringing noise of the phone. He answers and gets up shortly after ending the call, and you watch with tired eyes as he's getting ready. "I'll be back in an hour, I love you, and don't move," he says, giving you a quick kiss and heading off, leaving you to fall back asleep in a now cold bed.

Vlad King (Sekijiro Kan)

-Would notice getting ready for work; as soon as he sees the bruises that litter your hips and shoulders, he wakes you with cries of asking you if you're okay.

-Yes he was rough in bed, but he always made sure you were okay. Seeing this made him a puddle on the floor.

-As you wake, you have to reassure him you're okay, just sore, but before you can say you'll be fine while he's gone, he calls into work.

-He would make you breakfast, fluff up some pillows to make you comfortable, and run you a bath after you eat.

"Thank you, love," you say in a tired voice as you take the small table of food in your lap. "And I'll run you a warm bath after too," he says, sitting down next to you and having his own food. "Can you join me?" You ask, but his face says something other than excitement: "I'm afraid I'll hurt you, hon." His voice sounded like he was fighting back tears: "It's okay, you will make me feel better, please." He thinks it over for a minute and nods, going back to his breakfast.

All Might (Toshinori Yagi) -Works for small & big

-Would see in the middle of the night coming back from the bathroom.

-He would lay back in bed but keep his distance, then call into work to get the day off. He's never done this before, so he's a bit scared.

-When you wake up, you notice the bruising on your hips and ribs. The pain would come every time you moved, but Toshinori was there to help and bring food.

-He would have helped you change into something decent as of last night had you not. A lot of apologies would have been given, but your words calmed them down.

Toshinori moved with panic as he took the empty plate from you. "Thank you, Toshi," you say warmly, but he just gave a small smile before his eyes went to your bruises. Noticing you cover them up with the blankets, you didn't mind his getting rough in bed; maybe you even liked it, but you hated how he looked at you like you were broken.

"Come sit" You say he's patting the bed; he slowly sits, but far from you. You painfully move closer to him, but he still keeps his distance. "Please come closer; I feel like I'm the plague," you say with a hurt laugh. He does gently put a hand on your thigh, letting you put your head on his shoulder and watch TV.

Fat Gum (Taishiro Toyomitsu) -Works for big & small

-Would notice as he comes in with breakfast in bed for you, the covers are moved, letting him see them in the morning light.

-It covered your hips and back; he woke you gently, but he was about to cry seeing you groan in pain.

-Putting the table on your lap like he always does on his day off. He asks if you're okay and points to the bruises that you now notice.

-He would cuddle you up with blankets while you and him ate to enjoy your morning shows, though he would keep a close eye on you.

Eating your food, you would feel Taishiro's eyes on you; it made you squirm where you sat. Looking at him, he smiles at you as you take another bit of his food. "Is it that bad?" you ask with a worried look on your face, but he quickly turns into protective mode. "No, not at all. I just never thought I would go that hard on you." He sighs, you go soft, "I enjoyed last night, please; I don't want this to stop you." You reassure him, and he smiles, "It's not, sweetheart, but if you like it that way, then does tomorrow night sound good?" He flirts, you blush, and you give him a kiss.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is and grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

#endeavour x reader #enji todoroki x reader #gang orca x reader #kugo sakamata x reader #eraserhead x reader #aizawa shota x reader #shota aizawa x reader #vlad king x reader #sekijiro kan x reader #all might x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #fat gum x reader #taishiro toyomitsu x reader #mha headcanons #mha heroes x reader

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steddietogo · 1 year

Text

Eddie finds Steve’s green sweatshirt one day after getting surprise dunked in the pool at Casa Harrington by his own sheep. It’s soft and worn like it was once Steve’s favorite thing to wear but now it lays forgotten at the back of his closet.

Eddie doesn’t think much about it, just picks it up and pulls it on. Its just him and Steve in the kitchen when he gets back. The others are arguing about which movie to put on while Steve heated up dinner for all of them like a dutiful housewife. The thought makes him laugh.

Steve turns around at the sound of his voice. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just. You pretend to get mad when the kids call you mom but here you are, being all—” He waves his hands about trying to convey his point but Steve is already distracted.

“That sweatshirt,” Steve has a frown on his face, but it’s not exactly a bad one. Eddie wonders when he learned to read Steve like that.

He gives Steve a twirl. “Do I look good in it?” Steve smiles, doesn’t deny it.

“You know, I fought my first demogorgan in it,”

“Woah,” Eddie looks down at it, feeling something akin to wonder when he smooths his palms over the fabric.

“Yeah,”

“God, Harrington,” Eddie looks up grinning. “You gotta keep a priceless artefact like this safe,” Steve rolls his eyes and goes to pull the pizza out of the oven. He’s still smiling though.

Eddie follows, then plants his butt on the counter so he can see Steve’s face. “Is that why you don’t wear it anymore?”

Steve’s cheeks puff out like a chipmunk when he sighs heavily. Eddie has the sudden urge to pinch them.

“Kinda, at first,” He doesn’t look at Eddie when he speaks. “I don’t even know why I kept it, you know? I kinda just wanted to burn every evidence of that night,”

Eddie nods and goes to gather plates for everyone. He should say it. Steve trusted him enough to share, Eddie should too right? He hasn’t said it out loud. Not to Wayne, not to the upside down scientists approved therapist. But he could tell Steve. Steve gets it. And Eddie so badly wants to talk about it, maybe cry a little. Because out of all the things that had happened, this one really breaks his heart.

Eddie startles when a hand softly presses into the small of his back. “You okay there?” Steve has his head tilted to the side to see Eddie better and this time the frown on his face spells worry.

“I can’t play my guitar,” he blurts out. And the words rush out of him all at once. “I can’t do it, I mean I get nightmares and shit, you know. And sometimes my scars hurt so much at night that I can’t even sleep. But this one really takes the cake, like, I pick her up and my heart starts racing and I can’t breath—” It’s happening again. His chest tightens to the point that he struggles to draw in a breath and his vision blurs out as his eyes fill with tears and— oh god he’s going to die in Steve’s kitchen.

“No, Eddie you’re not going to die, I promise,” says a steady voice firm enough that he almost believes it. Then warm hands pull him into an even warmer body. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, listens to Steve telling him how to breath and slowly, after a long while, the knot starts to loosen and breathing comes easier. Steve doesn’t stop running a soothing hand over his back as Eddie sags into him, suddenly winded. His fists are balled into Steve’s shirt like a scared little kid.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles when he’s gathered enough energy to start feeling embarrassed at how quickly he fell apart.

“Nothing to be sorry about, I swear, happens to the best of us,”

Eddie snorts, “Okay mom,” Steve swats at his arm. Eddie finally pulls away after a while. “Think I really needed that,”

“Hey, if you want, you can come over and trying playing over here?” Steve shrugs. “Maybe a change of location can help, I’ll even hold your hand through it,”

“How am I supposed to play if you’re holding my hand, dummy,” Eddie snarks, hiding his smile behind his hair. “But I’ll think about your offer,” There’s literally nothing to think about, what was he going to say, no? Steve’s answering look tells Eddie he knows too.

And if Eddie leans into Steve when he put his arm around Eddie in the sofa while sharing a blanket, well that’s his business.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #mine #This is the fastest I’ve ever written anything #ever #this is like a rollercoaster of emotions

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sugar-petals · 1 year

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𝖘𝖚𝖇!NCT ; { 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚍 | 18+}

[ # 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜. ] domme/sub. oral sex. kinks. toys. breath play. semi-public sex.

⟨ AUTHOR’S NOTE. ❌ here’s to a 9-part hc, this time it’s the neos! 5k words total — at this point, i might just name my blog oral fixation central instead of pretty boy central. i picked members who i thought would suit the scenario best, from power bottoms to innocent subs: pick your preference from the little ‘feat’ list below ⬇︎ and if you like what i do: interact and/or reblog ♥︎ enjoy! x

[ + PAIRINGS.] crop top!mark, shy!taeyong, poly soft sub!shotaro, hard sub!yuta, experienced!jungwoo, tease!yangyang, trophy bf!xiaojun, service sub!johnny, pro!ten x femdom!reader respectively

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⇢ MARK 마크 - All about the eye contact while hugging your thighs. You’re comfortably reclined, playing with his soft flowy bangs. His shampoo smells so. Fricking. Good. He’s kneeling there, ass up, one hell of a sight. Why have one nice thing when you could have two at once? Mark eating your cake, you can check out his cake — and spank it later — it’s a win-win. Mark is the kind of guy who blurts out a thousand thoughts per minute, but when he eats you out, the laser focus he’s known for when rapping returns to its full glory. As if he could read your wants and wishes out of your gaze. If you want clit kisses, you get them. Still, Mark often confuses himself in typical style („Hold on, hold on! The towel goes here below, wait, I got it wrong!“), but! He is not confused by you. It’s more about figuring out his technique. Was more cautious at the beginning already, however not because he thought you were unapproachable or mysterious. Mark loves you very much and thinks you’re beyond hilarious. Which is why eating you out is constantly interrupted by mutual laughing fits, no surprise there. His tunnel vision can only last for so long! You make your boyfriend cry tears by making funny faces. He’s caught off guard. It’s good to lighten the mood. Being funnier than Mark is hard to pull off, which makes it even more rewarding to make his face glow from heat, thigh squeezing, and grinning. One hand on his cheek if you can reach, the other at the back of his neck. Mark has the softest peach fuzz on his nape, so satisfying to stroke. What starts out hasty or confused turns into comfy relaxation and trust, Mark knows how much it soothes you.

One scenario became his and your definite favorite. Mark got his driving license, parked in front of your home, honked, and had the audacity to sit there behind the steering wheel with a purple crop top on such a fine evening. Horny and intrigued immediately, all you did was stare during your drive to the take-out spot you like so very much. His hair had gotten pretty long, it was so cute. But Mark’s body was just as inviting, you wanted to touch and ravage and wreck him so damn badly. Mark barely made it halfway through the city that you asked him to drive off the main street. Innocent mind he is, your baby assumed you knew a shortcut through the traffic. Mark winds up stopping the car incredulously somewhere close to an empty laundromat store, this area of the city was fast asleep and abandoned. When you whispered you wanted to fuck him, Mark’s jaw simply dropped. A perfect exercise for what was about to— come. Perfectly sat on his face, you were deepthroating a whiny Mark laying on the backseat seven minutes later, sucking him off in a proper rhythm, seamless, with Mark nipping and dipping his way into your heart from behind. Mark was ready to die fulfilled by getting crushed. He came down your throat so fast, you had to wait until you could ride him hard: A perfect opportunity to enjoy some more chaotic rapper tongue action before, and moaning out loud when you came on his face. Since you were only getting started but Mark was dizzy with love, you took matters into your own hands and went for the ride of your lives.

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⇢ TAEYONG 태용 - Insecure and shifty-eyed at first, both hands trembling in the pockets of his grey hoodie. Leader Taeyong mode: Disengage. Listening well is his guideline here, he relies on bits of praise and your instructions („More to the left — yes… feels good“) to know what works. Sub training is the word. Since he’s more of an intuitive lover who prefers not to jump right into it, Taeyong will build the scenario rather carefully with your orders in mind. Morning, noon, or night, doesn’t matter. The time spent gearing up, arranging his room with the right lights and a movie to watch first, the mood at the moment, that’s time well-spent. Impressionable Taeyong is a perfectionist of staging something in every sense of the word. His tendency for theatrics and hot as fuck eyebrow expressions extends to licking you up when his new mixtape plays. Even when he’s fucked-out from the day, he still reserves this energy for his one and only. Getting better and to the point as he progresses is always the bar. The hoodie stays on. The inhibitions come off. Once he gets going and the playlist switches to Baekhyun, Taeyong sucks your clit like it’s your birthday. You reach the point of no return in one minute flat no matter how slow or fast he goes. Your sweet sloppy sub is well aware where the most sensitive nerve endings are and caters to your every throbbing, pulsing, and twitching of the legs. And if you’re insatiable, horny at 7 in the morning again, Taeyong will drop everything he does and climbs back into your bed to play with your wetness at the tips of his fingers, sucking them rigorously like the true cumslut he is. The scent of his crisp aftershave will make you cum in no time, he smells so fucking good and masculine. This handsome man’s all yours.

Recently figured out how mommy cums as soon as he moans her name. So, he has to use it diligently, not too early, not excessively. You help him place his hands on the outer point of your hips, use his bubbling spit as lube, and show your boo how to angle his glorious jaw. Sooner or later, he almost looks like he’s posing in an expensive photoshoot, that’s how physical he is. Subspace is always just around the corner, so you make a habit of reassuring him that he sucks you off right, that you love this way of pleasure, that he’s good at it. Which is no lie. His tongue is flexible and versatile, to say the very least. And his room isn’t the only place where your little encounter goes down. Taeyong once drove you out to see his old school — you both just wanted to revisit the empty building for some memories. Taeyong got nostalgic, plus he loves to show you forgotten aspects of his life that few other people know. The sports facilities in particular. But eventually, you pressed Taeyong against a locker, heavily made out, and within a blink of his pretty doe eyes, his head was between your legs on an old bench. Your dirty talk was off the fucking charts. The pet names you were peppering him with, too. Three minutes after you hit the peak, Taeyong gladly heard the janitor’s keys click in a close-by room, so you just wound up hiding behind some trees of the school’s baseball field. Out of breath, the two of you. Jeez, did he dress you in record time, and jumped up, and showed you the door out. Those reflexes. While you wait for the janitor to leave, a very amused Taeyong shows you pictures of himself when he was enrolled on his phone… as if he didn’t swallow your every drop just minutes earlier. Yeah, he’s fascinating.

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⇢ SHOTARO 쇼타로 - Kissy lips, kissy face. Squeals with absolute joy when you offer him to have a go — don’t underestimate how much he worships your body. And how much he loves sex, long as it’s not too rough. Shotaro doesn’t like hard subbing, gentle femdom sounds more like it. He won’t risk anything… yet. Wait one or two years and he might as well be super freaky. Until then, no experiments, Yuta’s kinky influence has not corrupted him, but he won’t stop to take a breather either. The perfect mix of commitment and flirt, batting his puppy eyes at you constantly with a very careful mouth at work. Shotaro’s friendly impression is not going to be blown away all of a sudden, that’s not even reserved for moaning his soul out when you peg him. The only time the sweet smile wanes is when your baby feels like you’re not into it — before you even voice it to him. Shotaro is concerned concerned. „Wait! Should I do it differently?“ is the panicked response, and you cool him down for a solid minute with head pats. Making mistakes is what he fears most: Looking pathetic, degraded, embarrassed and unskilled. Needless to say, he’s not the type of submissive who likes humiliation, more points to soft subbing. You say, you’re Shotaro. How could you go wrong. You couldn’t look awful if you tried. Although `going with the flow´ is a washed-out phrase that’s far too simple as a motto, a little bit of calm and laissez-faire really works for him. Not interrupting himself, not checking if absolutely everything is done right, but going ahead and just working his tongue to get some feedback later.

Where he clearly excels is a polyamorous dynamic, romantic and/or sexual: Hear me out. Naturally, he needs no experience with it. He fits right into the mix, acting as a mediator and mood-maker between three parties. Three is good, although four or five is too much for Shotaro to handle, even if the pairs kind of split into couple units within one room. Like two here, three there, or something like that. It’s better to focus and galvanize all the attention on you without distractions or further chaos that would just make the situation uncomfortable. So, three it is. Not a gangbang, just a triad, and if it’s two girls he’ll pleasure at once, he’s right at home. Shotaro is so amicable, his winning smile could put anyone at ease. As I said, despite his lack of experience, he’s a natural. One girl gets to relish his gentle fingers circling and rubbing, the other girl will see his mouth do wonders at the same time. Actually, Shotaro is more confident with a third party around, it’s puzzling. Until you remember he’s part of frickin’ NCT: Their collective buzzing hive mind has likely programmed every member to be good at poly should they choose to try it — don’t ask why, just enjoy. Being around so many people made Shotaro a little awkward in a one-on-one setting, which doesn’t diminish his affection for his main partner, mind you. But you can definitely tell he thrives on poly dynamics, it feels like protection to him. Shotaro’s number one prowess of being able to please will come through immediately, and he’ll do anything to set up the room as romantically as possible. Scented candles, warm blankets, music. Everyone feels secure, and it’s a night you’ll ask to repeat soon. He’s the absolute sweetest, I know.

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⇢ YUTA 유타 - Enjoys you spitting on him beforehand. Properly. Degradingly, with no hesitation, anywhere across his face. Wastes no time submitting to your sadistic, tormenting deeds. Any viable spot in your living space will serve as a theatre for a great scene. Even the cold basement: You, facing any wall standing, Yuta chained and squatted between your legs to eat his meal from behind-below, begging to be crushed, suffocated. Rest assured you’ll feel warmed up in just two minutes. Nastiest groans between loud slurping noises ever. Moves his head side to side a whole lot. Other people around? „Don’t care“ — Yuta wants everyone to know he pleasures your clit superbly well. Likes, wants, craves the aid of ultra-fancy battery toys. Where’s the excitement, the literal buzz? He’s not happy if you don’t get one hell of a show, whipped cream included (yes, his secret weapon). And, you know… him wearing a red rope harness, even thin heels, hard to balance on as the extra challenge. Dressed for the occasion. Always knows, observes, notices when you love it and when you don’t, or if you think some technique is just eh, mediocre, maybe „time for an upgrade“. The upgrade is more tongue-flicking, by the way. Mister Quick & Sloppy knows what’s good. Yuta shows up carrying a little vibrator collection 70% of the time, some very handy electrical friends that he’s gonna use one after the other while you can just relax. Why just one toy when you could have even more sensations? Alternating with his energetic tongue, it’s an interesting method mix, freaky and experimental. So much more intense, and new. They didn’t lie when they said Yuta had vibes. The things he’s smuggled through crowded hotel lobbies with a stone-cold face just to get you off. And: The toys he ordered online, where Taeyong picked up the package, so Yuta lied it was just another boring game he bought to pass the time.

Looks at you very intensely with his head between your legs, and you wink back by habit. It actually flusters him profusely. Don’t underestimate Yuta’s ability to become extremely shy, this man has such a soft spot for his domme. Especially after she destroyed him totally… he loves it, going past his limits all the time. A cane is all you need to break him, only to get all the head you want with Yuta crying. Hard and mischievous shell, soft and whimpery core. One of the best pleasers, knows you inside out. Yuta has his intricately detailed knowledge about the ladies down. Plus his power bottom tendencies equal the amounts of sheer masochism he possesses: Mercilessly smack him across the face between streaks of sucking, right after he catches a breath, and he will be yours. Yuta will plead you to do it again and again. Never cared about shallow orgasms, wants to make you cum for real, it’s the same with him wanting to scream. Wishes there was a way for you to choke him out while he’s doing down on you, but your hands would reach him awkwardly, preferring to pull on his hair anyway: So he just clamps down on his own neck with one hand, circling your nipples with his spit-covered fingers using the other hand, that fucking perv. That Yuta is crazy you already know, but that he likes to pile on several sex techniques at once is a revelation. That he has the skills to do it is not. Sex god. Your nasty boy deserves to be ruined.

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⇢ JUNGWOO 정우 - Prince of chapstick, he feels super smooth. The face, the same. So soft. The prettiest. Prettiest boy to ever pretty. Long as it’s a chill environment and it’s mostly vanilla, he’s down for anything, your goofy sweetheart. Don’t laugh, you could even put on a random Sunday soccer match on his laptop. If there’s no intense penalty shootout and it’s a little monotonous, both teams equally strong so nothing really happens, that’s perfect as a relaxing backdrop with all the occasional commentary and fan chants, volume turned down by 80%. It would sound weird with any other guy, but Jungwoo makes it work. It could be any sports event, in fact. Ice hockey, billiards, whatever. Or music. Or him wearing a silky jersey himself while he goes down on you, his sporty side is such a turn-on. But no stress, no edge, just being sweet together and flirting a lot. He’s cute and hot and kind at once — the amount of facial expressions you’ll see is astounding. Likes the occasional deeper dive if you know what I mean, though not as in, ambushing you with crazy tongue twisters and whatnot. Deliberate is the word. Is not content staying all too superficial or messy, it has to be rhythmical and make sense, making you comfortable. You thought he would be chaotic, but Jungwoo knows exactly what to do, how to dip, so you don’t worry. Except that you’re an immensely possessive domme behind a generous exterior — with eagle eyes, for that matter.

Since your lil’ pup acts like he has done it before a couple times, and Jungwoo confirms he has experience, you feel a bit jealous and even go on bantering. „Enjoyed it?“ Yes, even if you wish you weren’t, you’re jelly. Jungwoo reacts with a sheepish and embarrassed face, he doesn’t want to spill the beans. What’s done is done, he protects the privacy of his exes, evades questions. You eventually calm yourself to take it easy, it’s none of your biz, although saying his past is his past doesn’t really work as a catchphrase for you: You have to make it crystal clear, have him close in, make him say „I am“ when you ask „are you mine, then?“ Despite his seductive come-hither gaze being a masterclass and his humor being outrageous, Jungwoo is a surprisingly patient lover, hating to just rush it or be inaccurate with his plush tongue. You can feel his adoration. And he’s upbeat. A reassuring smile makes your day, it helps you rid yourself off the stress. Every word you say is appreciated. He hates when someone walks all over their partner, it just isn’t right to him. Listening is more important. Jungwoo hates you being pent up, hates you worried or preoccupied. At work, he can deal with himself. At home, he will vent quickly when there’s a bigger problem, but he’d rather tune into you first. He’d do anything to make you feel like you got rid of your problems, he’s your escapist fantasy turned real. Jungwoo has no problem being considered just that. In fact, he wants it, knowing you can take it out on him in gentle ways: Hands in his soft blonde hair, swaying your hips, cumming when he kisses you.

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⇢ YANGYANG 양양 - Eating you out as his signature move? Well, well. Yes and no. Because seemingly, he does anything but: At first. It’s 99% endless teasing everywhere else on your body. Until, completely on edge, you guide his shoulders and have him get to work. With permission, of course, knowing he enjoys it. You wouldn’t hurt this cutie at all costs, though he likes his head controlled by you like this to begin with. So don’t worry too much, he isn’t made of cotton candy, even if his hair color sometimes suggests that. Ironically, it’s the other way around. He wants to taste your cotton candy. With your hands around his temples, holding him in place. Which makes for a sexy POV from both of your positions. Yangyang is working hard, why is he still so immensely eager, how much energy does he even have? It’s admirable how he can tease your body for so long with ghosting kisses and suggestive eye contact. Yangyang being the master of stamina might come as a surprise, but you know how it goes with Libra men. Pleasers till the end of time. That’s exactly why he indulges you so much in prep. Edging is his thing, though you tend to take back control by cussing him out for licking your ankles like a maniac. „What are you, a deprived Victorian man? You sexy fucking sucker, you, God damn…“ Insults make him squeal and laugh, and soon he’s back to the main event, anyway.

Now seriously, why does the cutie trail off so much? Which, granted, makes you even hornier. Propped onto your couch, Yangyang is humming and licking your thighs with that seductive, way too infuriating grin. Even munching on them when he’s extra cocky, up until you say you’ll fucking spank his soul out if he keeps on smiling like a devil. You’ll mark him up at full capacity, slap his butt, pinch his nose, swear you’ll tickle him until he taps out. But kinky Yangyang is not stopped by any threat of punishment whatsoever. What are you gonna do, smack his ass and hope he stops nibbling on your legs for good? If anything, he gets even more riled up and ready to stimulate you even more. Shit, your body’s on fire from all the attention it gets. So, good luck with this sheer untamable brat. He kisses your belly, sucks on your chest at random. Your fingers, too. The neck. The entire palette. Even the fucking ears. Yuta would be proud of Yangyang’s utter depravity. Little did you know it’s all a tastemaker. In your world, he’s increasing the suspense. In his world, he’s courting you, paying attention to all body parts, showing off what he can do with his lips. Oral sex? Nope, kissing first! Holy fuck, he’s absolutely fucking peppering you. You thought Yangyang was too intimidated to go down on you and delayed it, turns out you misunderstood. Guy is just the king of foreplay. And out of all head squad members? Surprise! His oral fixation is the most unruly and developed.

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⇢ XIAOJUN 샤오쥔 - Okay, prepare yourselves. Xiaojun is a little extra with those kind of things, to say the least. Not kinky, just particular. In fact, he is the type to use his whole damn face. Yep. Very deliberately, slow-mo, so you can see and feel everything. Yes, chin and all. His entire technique would appear lazy, uncoordinated and weird to an outsider, but from your perspective, he’s just nasty, he’s giving it his all: Which is exactly what you like. Xiaojun knows that you’re obsessed with the beauty of his otherwordly features from outer space, and he’s always generous with it — „I’m yours, that’s why“. So why not give it a shot, his mouth can only do so much! Does Xiaojun look down on anyone who sticks to the basics? Probably not, he’s too busy in his own relationship. Being perfect, being hot, being all you need, he goes the extra mile for everything. And that happens to include cunnilingus. The cheekbones, the nose, the forehead, even… You get to feel it, too, not just the lips doing their thing. He’s brave, he’s naughty, he’s sensual all at once. Wants you all over him, after all. Slathered up in your wetness, is this Xiaojun’s new makeup routine? It sure looks like it. The man is glowing for all the right reasons.

There is a bit of vanity in his style. He’s your designated trophy boyfriend, after all. Gotta look and act the part, doesn’t he. Swipe his hair back while he licks you, put up mirrors for sexy time, doll himself up beforehand with soft and pretty clothes, even a few necklaces. No mediocre. Xiaojun is like Narcissus between your legs, but really, he’s just conscious of how he comes across: And who can blame him. That’s not a boyfriend. That’s a masterpiece. Xiaojun doesn’t need beauty standards, they need him! Few people can handle his awesomeness. Knowing you want his body, his fucking soul, he is all the more eager to satisfy your heated desires with no regard to form: Come as you are. Your PJs, work or uni clothes, naked, near-naked, whatever. He’s the one to look at. Xiaojun puts great emphasis in slow-paced presentation that matches some tender music in the background. It could go on for hours if you wanted. Dejun could do the juiciest and unusual things while a ballad is playing in the background, but you’re into it. Because it’s not torturously done, but well aware that you think he’s stunningly handsome, so he’ll indulge you. Looks good in any position, as one would expect. Enjoys it if you sit on him lots because he likes to be below, this overpowering angle. The same idea applies here: Torturously slow is the key. You’re a strict and controlled domme, that suits him the very best.

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⇢ JOHNNY 쟈니 - Sassy, sassy boy. Talks a lot at the beginning, 100k words friends to lovers. Is this Youtube? Johnny needs to know exactly what you want and how he can achieve it. Fair enough, he wants the juicy intel, all of your boundaries and soft limits, your ideas, your sweet spots, your no-gos and best ways to make you comfortable. And hey, that’s a smart and normal thing to do: He just does it all at once, like an essay. Wow. You can tell he thought about everything and wondered about everything. A caring boyfriend, if you think of it. The whole shebang is kind of cute. Johnny has no business being ignorant; nor does he like to disappoint his girlfriend. He already caught your attention with his tight shirt, in fact, he distracted you while you were going through your phone, so now he, um, takes responsibility for his banging body being so hot. „Do you want any snacks before, something to drink? Probably some water, right. Wait a minute, I’ll get it for you. Do you want warm water or cold water? Okay, cold, right. With a slice of lemon or without? Should we turn on the TV or some music? Which blanket do you prefer today, the lighter one or the heavy-duty?“

On it goes, it’s the service sub in him. This is like fucking Hotel Johnny Seo. He wants to be like a personal butler to you, except that said butler has some impressive dancer glutes and no suit on. Johnny really does leave nothing to chance and you appreciate it: Circumspect, as ever, and it’s important to be comfy before getting down to business. Johnny knows it always makes a difference when you’re warm and hydrated, so he keeps on asking questions to make sure it’s all set. But once he is engrossed, lips on your labia… the opposite is true. Why does he stop talking out of literal nowhere, what on earth is going on. Johnny’s dead silent, focused, in a different mindset. Unrecognizable. He barely even moves his body, even if there’s a lot to move indeed. God, is he fucking tall — a bit difficult to drape and position himself on the sheets, but he’ll manage. Kind of folding himself in half will do the trick. You already blew his literal back out with your strap the day before, so his spine’s like jelly anyway: Bending, not a problem. Once he kneels properly, it’s all tunnel vision. Although to be fair, he moans every now and then — which is very stimulating, to say the very least. Puts his spectacular lips to good use and, if he’s honest, wants to be „nothing but a sex toy“ (his words, verbatim!) that you can bend around to your delights. You were kind of confused by what he meant, so Johnny explained it. The point is that you can adjust him however you like and he’s there to give you a good time.

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⇢ ten 텐 - Red alert, the final boss is here. Let's make tonight your birthday. Ten’s piping hot sexual style puts any existing man, no matter how experienced, to a literal devastating shame. Because he has what? The flavor. It’s exceedingly difficult to put his energy into fitting words. Similar to Yuta, he flaunts some seriously rapid flicking tongue movements, but knows when to slow it down for a minute: Nuance! It’s exactly what does the trick. Despite his quick and accurate manner, he won’t overstimulate or overtake you. Overtaking in a sense of, being faster than the pleasure can arrive, which is a mistake he knows is frequently committed. Ten knows that going too hard doesn’t feel good, so he refrains from going on for a second round right away especially. „Fifteen minutes rest is due,“ is what he’ll say, laying down face to face on his side with you. Presenting his cute puffy lips, and also for a chance to look him in the eyes properly. Those cat eyes. They’re magnetic. After enough tension builds and you’re impatient, Ten dives off between your thighs again. Patience (with stamina) is a virtue and he has it. Paired with the most graphic dirty talk you’ve ever heard, Ten is fully in his element, hands in the right places, hair falling the right way, lips promptly sucking you up. If you know his Instagram, you know which bedroom eyes will await you. On the majority of days, Ten is the type who will crawl up to you from the edge of the bed like a feline. You don’t know what’s first to touch. Grab his ass? Cup his face? Pinch his waist? Fuck it, just do everything at once.

Not a fan of 69, he’ll dedicate himself fully to you. Twisting himself around is his job on stage, but he’s remarkably still once chest down in bed. Or the edge of the bathtub, whatever you fancy. Few angles are too awkward for ten. Talk about bathroom sex: He’s probably the only person on earth who mastered giving head in the shower. Even without a mat or towel under his knees, which is crazy. He stays stable as if by sheer magic, the floor being painfully hard and slippery doesn’t bother him, though you insist he use at least a small towel to kneel on when it’s not spontaneous oral. Ten is only focused on his task, nothing else fazes him. He trusts you with the temperature control, and if he’s getting waterboarded from above with the shower on? Then he’s getting waterboarded. Ten won’t care. He’s the goat, he knows he can breathe somehow, and he doesn’t want you getting cold — „just turn the valve, honey“. You often take precautions and turn on the bathroom heating way before, but Ten insists on his ways and can clearly see your goosebumps. Your right leg over your shoulder, your boyfriend eats you out from below with the water stream trailing right over his face. The divine baptism! You can squeeze, grind, and fuck his face stupid in the most erratic thrusts on the bathroom carpet ten minutes later for a solid round two. He wants to be completely at your mercy, laying there on his back, dripping wet long dark hair, getting you off hands-free. This guy lets you do anything. Any-fucking-thing. Ten is a legend.

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// FINAL NOTE. leave some feedback if you liked it 🍒 and for more content like this, browse my rec blog’s specifically dedicated sub!nct tag. have fun! 🙌

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similar posts: multi version /// bts version /// exo version

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