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#its not the direction i want for the fic but its SUCH a fun direction 😭
good-beanswrites · 3 months
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sorryf im being mentally ill about hallucination event right now SO in the LCSyS au, would there be something like it :o? Like after all of it's over or something, how crazy would it be if Jackalope tried to get them all together just to do one last concert?
Never apologize for being mentally ill about Milgram content 😌👍 We are all in it together 😔👍I'm combining this answer with a reply to @kikithedeceiver (and spiraling out of control from both)
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I've had a lot of ideas about the project being public in LCSyS, but was holding off including it for few reasons – the audience’s voices would conflict with Es as their own character. Knowing the public was watching would change the way the prisoners acted (even if they thought they were acting natural). It’s a long time that the families would have to deal with the public knowing about their loved one’s almost-crime. I also like the idea of this au ending with the prisoners returning to very normal lives. 
Buuuuut it is such a fun idea, and popularity seems an essential part of an actors au. So, I’m not naming this as canon, but here’s a pitch if you liked that idea and wanted to run with it :3
The team doesn’t tell the participants that they’ve been recording/collecting certain material to release. If a translation is left out by accident, the prisoners just assume it’s for a foreign team member – they have no idea how close/far Milgram reaches. 
The third trial begins. The prisoners are inside the prison, and on the final stretch of the trials. On the outside, Jackalope contacts families for signatures to release the material publicly. The team thought about censoring names and things, but seeing current fans’ investigation skills, they knew it was a matter of time before they put pieces together anyway. This may be super illegal but for the sake of the story I’ll say that family consent is enough lmao.
Some of them are easy to convince to sign off on everything, since it can raise awareness for their loved one’s struggles. Muu’s family takes the longest, as it would risk ruining their reputation. (They’re only swayed because it truly is a great opportunity to show off Muu’s talents for those modeling scouts, and she didn’t actually kill anyone in the end.) Kazui’s family refuses to release his info, but Hinako uses sway with her marital status to sign off instead (I pictured things happening fast enough where she hasn’t gotten an official divorce yet). Hinako still struggles with what he did, but she thinks he’s doing something incredibly brave now. I’m not 100% sure what’s going through Amane’s father’s mind, but if the murder really was in line with the cult’s beliefs, maybe he believes that Amane will be be a shining representation of their religion. He wants to show her off as their little golden child.
The experiment is published in its current form: music videos, voice dramas, timeline conversations, interrogation questions, etc. It’s brought to more than just science/psychology circles, though. Jackalope has no shame in marketing it as entertainment, hence the stockholders mentioned. He assures the sociologists that this will be a major breakthrough for them. He tells music labels he's got the new hit thing for them. He leans into the excitement of releases and merchandise in the hopes of gaining attention for the experiment. Needless to say, it works. Even though the audience has no sway over Es’ decisions, they are encouraged to make decisions for themselves on what they would judge each prisoner. There’s the same types of theory/analysis/discourse posts passed around. 
When the trials end, the prisoners are released into the world to find they’re famous. Instead of trudging back to their lives feeling that society hates them, they find tons of adoring fans telling them how much they understand and forgive them. Even if their final verdict was guilty, they have hundreds of voices assuring them that they are loved. That they are not alone. This attention really helps Haruka, Amane, (and maybe Es) who don’t have a good home to go back to. Not only can they reenter society, they are welcomed with open arms. They are looked after and showered in love. Some of the adults realize they want to use this popularity to lead the charge of social change. They create/support projects meant to help people who are facing their struggles.
And of course, there’s the other type of fame as well. Yuno loves answering fanmail and turning her karaoke hobby into a music career. Kazui goes from a life of feeling rejected and disgusting to scrolling through comments upon comments of men oogling him. Mahiru gets offers from fashion magazines and blogs to write up sections about self-love. Amane gets to live out her dream of being a performer, hinted at in her first two mvs. Fuuta is flustered by all the positive attention his appearance/voice is getting. Mikoto… well, I just wish him luck when he opens tiktok…
Which brings us to the live event! The prisoners have tried to keep in touch while adjusting to their new lives as almost-murderers-turned-idols. They’re amazed at how well-recieved the trial songs were. Those were some of their most personal, shameful secrets, and people relate to them? People love singing them?? People want a concert featuring them??? Jackalope encourages them to get together for one last encore. Some are thrilled with the opportunity, others are still nervous about the whole thing. Some think it’s in poor taste, that Jackalope is milking them for entertainment. But with a bit of conversing amongst themselves, they realize they all want a chance to sing like that again, and see each other in one place again. (It’s ironic because in my head Mahiru is the one to convince everyone to come ;--;) 
It’s strange putting on the uniforms again. Es is unsure about putting on their guard’s cloak. But the minute they stop onstage, they’re met with wild applause. They can sing their fears and dreams to a huge crowd and see in real time how it’s reaching others. They hear the cheers after each song. They hear that it’s streamed all over the world. All of them have an absolute blast, and pour their heart and soul into their performances.
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lavender-acee · 1 year
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What if i hc saiki as aro ace, and i am aro ace, but i want to cause problems for him on purpose. and give him messier relationship related issues with like every character ever. Thats valid i think, everyone should be doing this
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astro-nautics · 1 year
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[gazes longingly at my fics] wouldn't it be nice if one day all of you would be fully written <3
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hyewka · 1 year
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all my drafts and current fics go through a very specific cycle of characterization... jealousy? check. cries because jealousy? check. doesn't use the pull out method and instead decides to cum inside? check.
me and my obsession with writing crybaby insecure men urgh
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kinaesthetiqueer · 3 months
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broke: jnpr doesn't have assigned beds, because it's not plot relevant
woke: jnpr does have assigned beds, but they sit on each others' beds all the time because they're just comfy furniture
bespoke: jnpr doesn't have assigned beds because they just fall asleep whereever they feel like it and none of them care
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cuz-reasons · 1 year
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Yall aren't even ready for the dumbest (affectionate) fic I've ever written
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forlix · 7 months
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· . ˚ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞
— the moments in which the members of stray kids realize how they truly feel about you.
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words・1.4k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / warnings・depictions of conflict and anxiety in hyunjin's and han's / genres・domestic fluff, smidges of hurt/comfort, established relationships
a/n・thought i'd try out a new fic format :-) i had so much fun writing these and hope you like reading them just as much. any and all feedback is appreciated, as always!
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chan is in a heated staring contest with his notepad when the door opens, and he knows that it’s you who comes in, but his head is miles away, tangled in an amalgamation of syllables and rhythms. he goes on to forget that you’re here for a short while, poring over the unfinished lyrics in front of him with undivided focus. that is, until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.
you’ve just pulled a chair up next to his desk. “lemme see,” you say, gesturing to the notepad. there’s a surprised pause, and then chan places it in your hand, scoots closer to you.
you spend the next two hours talking him through his block, but there are periods when you fall silent to brainstorm or to write something down, and chan takes those quiet opportunities just to look at you: wearing one of his old t-shirts, your hair still damp from your shower, completely concentrated. and he knows, then, that he wants to marry you.
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minho doesn’t realize he loves you in a singular moment. rather, he has a faint inkling for some time, and then the rug is randomly pulled from beneath his feet, and all of a sudden he can’t remember a version of his world that didn't have you at its center.
there are times when he’s especially aware of his feelings, though. like when he throws a witty remark in your direction and your retort comes back twice as sharp. when your eyes and smile light up like lanterns as you talk to him about your passions. when one (or all) of his cats hover at your side as you go about your day. when he returns home after a grueling practice and you’re there to offer him your comfort, no matter his withdrawn demeanor or sweaty skin.
he is a quiet lover, and sometimes he worries that he’s too quiet, that you have no idea what’s going on inside him every time he looks at you. but words have never really been necessary with minho. you know. you just do.
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changbin is greeted by a chilly breeze when he emerges from the gym, and he silently chastizes himself for forgetting to bring an outer layer yet again. but the temperature moves to the back of his mind when he spots you, waiting on the sidewalk, as you said you would. a familiar grin breaks across your face when you see him, and he feels its shape against his lips when he runs over and kisses you, in lieu of hello.
“what are you feeling for dinner?” you ask once he’s pulled away, and he realizes that you’ve pressed something to his chest: one of the hoodies that he keeps at your place, still soft and warm from just coming out of the dryer. and boom—the epiphany hits him, instantly and unequivocally.
he is dumbfounded for a moment, just processing the newfound discovery; and then, out of nowhere, the two of you say the name of the same restaurant at the same time. he swears he never believed in soulmates until he met you.
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hyunjin has always held so many emotions in his heart so fervently, to the point that they sometimes overflow in the form of words that he doesn’t believe, in a tone that he doesn’t intend. and it happened again today, when he spoke to you the wrong way in a moment of pure impulse, and the surprise on your face morphed into poorly-disguised hurt.
a few hours later, the weight of his actions sits heavily on his shoulders. when he lifts his phone to call you, his hands are shaking a little, and a breathy apology spills from his lips the moment he hears you on the other end: “i’m sorry, angel. i’m trying, i promise. i really am.” to which you answer, “i know, hyune. i forgive you. we’ll keep trying together, okay?” and your words pull his heartstrings in a new direction entirely.
he asks if he can come over, you say yes, and he tells you he loves you as soon as you open the door. he’s done hiding his heart from you.
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jisung’s contagious grin and raucous cackle come easily to him for the most part, but there are times when he forgets how it feels to laugh or to breathe, times when he wants only to hide from the world and all of its scariest parts. and when you see his figure in the doorway tonight, his face cast in a nameless shadow, his shoulders sunken in quiet defeat, you understand immediately that this is one of those times.
“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask as he approaches you. silently, he shakes his head: not tonight. but his body language asks for what he cannot verbalize. you extend your arms toward him, and he buries himself in them the second he’s close enough to, his face nestling the crook of your neck, the tension in his limbs melting at your gentle touch. you stay there for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him back to the ground, back to you.
wherever he chooses to hide, he thinks he’d like to take you with him.
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when felix opens his eyes, the space in the bed next to him is empty, and the faint scent of flour and sugar wafts through the gap beneath his door.
he gets to his feet, throws on some clothes, and wanders in the direction of the smell, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and the sight that awaits him makes him wonder if he’s still dreaming. you’re standing at the stove, still in your pajamas, hair slightly disheveled from your rest, and there are pancakes in the frying pan before you; sliced strawberries on the cutting board next to the stove. and the look of sheer focus on your face, as if staring at the pancakes will cook them faster, absolutely destroys him. (and he knows in that moment that he wants to wake up to you for the rest of his life.)
with an enamored smile, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls your back to his chest, and presses a light kiss to the nape of your neck. “morning, beautiful,” he mumbles sweetly. “how fucking lucky am i?”
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being around you makes seungmin feel like a kid with a crush. he smiles brighter and laughs louder. he opens like a lotus in bloom when you say his name. the floaty sensation he gets when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand persists for hours afterward—and none of it makes any fucking sense to him. it’s not that he doesn’t believe in love, but he’s never believed that love could feel like this, straight out of a sonnet.
now, your head is on his shoulder, your body rising and falling in your slumber. seungmin looks at your interlocked hands where they rest on his knee, and at the current track displayed on his lockscreen: “still” by day6, a song about losing and loving, about regret and reminiscence. those bright days between us are over, the lyrics go, and he makes a silent promise to your sleeping form that the bright days between the two of you will never end.
the word "love" still doesn't cross his mind, but it is etched all over his face, and carved into his soul.
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you and jeongin are telling each other about your days over dinner when your phone lights up with an incoming call, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when he sees who it’s from. for a few seconds, the two of you just stare at each other in flabbergasted silence. but then, you raise your phone to your ear: “hi, grandma! to what do i owe this pleasure?”
and the voice of his grandmother comes back through the receiver. she tells you that she’s just gone on an evening walk and found herself thinking of you, so she wanted to see how you’re doing; if you’re taking care of yourself. you rush to thank her, looking entirely flustered, and a bit like you’re about to burst into tears.
with that, the two of you launch into chatter about everything under the sun: grocery store discounts, the recent humidity, jeongin’s bad habits, you name it. and it finally dawns on jeongin how inextricably embedded in his life you have become—and that he doesn’t want it any other way.
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𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
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chrisevansonly · 4 months
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𝐉𝐞 𝐓’𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: girls night is always fun for you, and now charles knows you only ever have and will have eyes for him
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: slight swearing, very fluffy
𝐚/𝐧: this was a request from a while ago so I just decided to write it now, this fic has no french i have 0 brain power for it, and im so so sorry for takin such a long time to update, things have just been so busy and not amazing lately. anyway, enjoy 🫶🏻
🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀
Charles couldn’t hold back the smile on his face as he held your hip gently, your eyes narrowed at him in suspicion, clearly too many strawberry cocktails had been consumed tonight.
“Oh what’s that look for baby?”
“Don’t call me that. I have a boyfriend” you retaliated, words slurring as he nodded
“Baby, I am your boyfriend cmon, I have to get you home”
Shaking your head you reared back from him, your brain in its drunken state clearly not happy hearing that
“Absolutely not, I’m not going home with anyone, I’m going home with Charles”
Your friends were laughing at this point too, teasing you and poking fun at you, which you didn’t fully understand but Charles was ever the patient boyfriend, part of him slightly proud with your denial to leave the bar with anyone but him.
He had no insecurities in your relationship and he had the utmost trust in you, he just was happy to see you could handle yourself if you needed.
“How about I take you to find Charles then hmm?”
“Find Charles?”
He nodded, taking your hand in his as you reluctantly began to follow him, his arm moving to wrap around your waist as he directed the two of you out of the busy club, and over to his ferrari which was parked across the street.
“I know this car…” you said, letting out a yawn
“You do baby, come on…let’s go”
His voice was soft as he helped you into the car, doing up your seatbelt, holding back yet another laugh at the slight skeptical look in your eyes.
“Ready amour?”
At the sound of this a lazy smile pulls at your lips, thinking of Charles and the special little pet name he calls you
“Hmm Charlie calls me that…”
“He does, he knows it’s your favourite”
“How do you know?”
Smiling he leans down to kiss your forehead, happy to see your eyes slowly starting to close, hoping you’ll get some sleep on the way home.
“I just know amour…”
Just like he had suspected, you’d fallen asleep on the way home, your head resting against the window as he checked on you from time to time. Charles knew you’d either be a little more sober when you got home and recognized him, or he’d sleep in the guest room as he had before, he never wanted to make you uncomfortable if your brain wasn’t sober and you didn’t recognize him, which for the record rarely happened.
When he pulled up the driveway he opted to carry you upstairs, holding you to his chest as you slept soundly, only stirring when your back hit the mattress. Charles watching as your eyes opened and you blinked sleepily.
“Hi…”
“Hi baby…how are you feeling?”
Nodding you rubbed your eyes
“Hmm sleepy…thank you for picking me up”
“You’re welcome, you gave me quite the hard time…”
Groaning you looped your hands around his neck as he leaned over you, a teasing smile on his face
“I’m sorry baby…I swear I don’t mean it..”
“I know amour, if it makes you feel better I find it quite cute when it happens”
You rolled your eyes laughing softly, knowing he just enjoyed seeing you try and fight him off thinking he was just a random guy, it boosted his ego, but in the best way possible.
“How about I get you some comfy clothes and take your makeup off?”
He waited for you to nod before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips
“I love you, even if you forget who I am sometimes”
Hitting his chest gently you smiled
“I love you too…and i’m never drinking again”
Charles laughed shaking his head, knowing you’d very much do this all over again at another girls night in the future, but he didn’t mind at all. Especially when he got to cuddle up next to you every night, knowing he was the one that got to hold your heart in his care.
Even if you did forget who he was from time to time…
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hua-fei-hua · 2 years
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i desperately need to write more stories that are safe for third graders
#i can't keep reading them the diner fic with replaced names#i should finish up that script i was writing at work for basically this express purpose actually#we had six kids today and i'm at the location where we usually get *zero* kids#they were all very active kids n i think they were all friends from school#two of them took interest in me early on (as happens with groups of kids who feel comfy) n so they ended up chatting at me a lot lol#anyway they got bored n so i was like 'let's make up a story!' and they ACTUALLY said yes but since i couldn't find/grab paper fast enough#i ended up handing one of them my tiny notebook n a pen so that she could write bc she was the most insistent#surprisingly she didn't look through it which is totally what i would have done always and forever#anyway since i have like two hobbies that are secretly just one (fandom + writing = fanfiction) it's inevitable that kids#learn that i write as a hobby which makes it more inevitable that they ask what about#they're too young to be interested in romance novels (this is an observation not assertion) n a too simple to understand like#the emotional nuance i put in. well it probably depends on the kid but as a group lol nah#anyway i obvs want to indulge the kids in art and encourage them to take genuine interest in other people's lives#but most of my writing is not targeted at kids with some things being just straight up inappropriate for their age group#hence: the diner fic is usually what comes out bc it's recent enough to be good writing; it has no overt romance; and it's just a fun story#OH maybe the ONE chlm fic i wrote would work since it's pretty short and it's comedy#but anyway. i think i might need to write a few stories actually geared towards kids at this rate bc even tho stuff like diner fic#isn't *inappropriate* for their age they're still not its target audience n they deserve to have good n whimsical stories directed at them!#also as usual w/larger groups of kids one of them took notice of my queer features which is always delightful to me#one said i look kind of like a boy from the back to which i said 'good!' n when i did some silly voices another said i sounded like a boy#to which i once again said 'good!' n so they asked if i was a boy or a girl to which i said 'i'm whatever you want me to be'#they also asked if they could call me 'mrs. [hua]' which is probably the only firm no i ever gave them bc i am not married#and even if i was i actually thought abt this the other day bc rn i like 'mys' (short for 'mystery')#n if i got married i'd want it to still be 'mystery' long hand BUT. get this: *'mtr'*. pronounced as 'MISTER' :D#still thinking abt the abbreviation tbh so maybe 'mytr'? lol that looks like martyr#anyway they found me after i was waiting to get picked up n asked if i *really* wrote what i was reading to them earlier#n i was like 'yes?' n they were like 'are you suuuuure?' and i was like 'YES?!???' n i'd have said 'bitch what the fuck'#if i hadn't already mastered the art of not swearing around little kids#花話
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rileyslibrary · 1 year
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may i request ghost seeing reader making something (maybe a get well soon card or a papercrane or sth idk) and then someone accidentally ruining it? like how would he react? what would he do next etc
doesnt have to be a fic if you decide to write it, could be bulletpoints or something ez🥰🥰
thankyouu🥺✨
I love getting requests like this one; thank you @lululandd! Also, there’s a very important A/N at the end, so meet me there. Buh-bye for now, enjoy! 🍫
———————————————————————
Price got hurt. It was a terrible hit, and everything happened so fast. You were there, at the crime scene, as everything unfolded right before your very eyes.
His injury, however, wasn’t the result of a mission gone wrong; no. Some idiot forgot to put the warning sign on the wet floor, which caused the poor man to fly into the air and crash to the floor.
The good news is that he's recovering quickly and is now being held at the medical centre until he's ready to be released.
The bad news? Without a captain to guide the team, there was no mission to undergo. And, without a mission, none of you had a clear direction or purpose, leaving you all floating in a sea of mundane tasks and boredom. So, for the past few days, you and the rest of the team have been doing mind-numbing chores ranging from scrubbing the kitchen’s greasy ovens to meticulously organising the cluttered armoury.
While Soap and Gaz are on patrol, you and Ghost are taking a break in the mess hall. He’s cleaning his gun by disassembling it and wiping all its metal components with an alcohol solution. You sit across from him, working on a different kind of project: making a get-well-soon card for Price.
Last night, you snuck into HR’s office and “borrowed” some supplies to help you with your craft: a piece of white paper from the printer, some markers, and a pot of blue-coloured glitter dust you found in one of the drawers. It was a mystery as to why the military’s Human Resources department possessed glitter. Still, it will undoubtedly prove helpful with your "crafty" mission.
You also went to the doctor and requested some “normal-sized” bandages to help with your secret project. The doctor leaned back in his chair, raising one eyebrow. He asked why you wanted the bandages, but you were so vague with your answer that he became suspicious of you. So he pulled his desk’s drawer and gave you one fucking bandage—just one. So you had to make it count.
You folded the white paper in half and carefully attached the bandage horizontally to create the outline of Price’s body. The only thing left is to paint his face on the bandage and draw a hospital bed underneath it. That, and getting the team together to write some kind messages on the card.
Ghost looks at you every now and then, mildly intrigued by your artistic creation. You catch his eye, and he quickly turns away.
“Do you like it?” you ask.
“It’s a bandage on a piece of paper,” he says, shrugging. “What is there to like?”
“It’s not just a bandage on a piece of paper,” you explain and gesture to the figure on the paper; “it’s supposed to be Price lying in his hospital bed, recovering.”
His response comes in the form of a lengthy, dismissive snort. He points to the glitter pot in front of you.
“Why the glitter?” he asks.
“It’s for the bedsheets,” you murmur.
“I didn’t know they transferred Price to a love hotel,” he mocks, turning away from you to resume his task. You roll your eyes in response and shift your focus to your craft. This is the same guy you’ll later ask to write a few pleasant words on that card. Fun stuff.
You can still feel his gaze on you as you work on the captain’s card. Despite his best efforts to appear apathetic, you notice him leaning in slightly, pretending to stretch or yawn while sneaking peeks at your project. His body language betrays him; even though he tries to be tough and keep up the act, you know that deep down, he’s a huge softie who can’t resist a heartfelt gesture. He coughs, pretending to clear his throat, and you stifle a laugh at his failed attempt to seem disinterested. You roll your eyes and slam your hand on the table.
“What’s your problem, Lieutenant?” you ask with an amused smirk on your lips.
“I just don’t understand,” he says as he wipes the gun barrel. “Why bother making a card from scratch when you can buy one?”
“Because it’s more meaningful,” you explain. “When you take the time to create something yourself, it shows that you care. It’s not a generic card; it’s a heartfelt statement.”
He lets out a sarcastic scoff.
“I’d do the same thing for you, you know.” You whisper.
He puts down his rifle and looks at you. “You would?” He asks, surprised.
You nod. “Of course, I would,” you reply, “but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that; I’d rather you stay injury-free.”
He chuckles and turns to look at the mess hall doors as they open, with Soap and Gaz carrying a large box and approaching you both.
They slam the box on the table without assessing its weight, causing the entire surface to shake. The impact knocks Ghost’s alcohol solution over, spilling it all over the table and, even worse, all over your hand-made card.
Your heart sinks to your stomach as you helplessly watch the liquid soak into the card, smudging the ink and warping the paper. Ghost throws the gun on the table and grabs your card as quickly as he can. Soap curses under his breath, and Gaz grabs some paper towels from another table, attempting to rescue anything he can. But it’s too late; the damage is done.
You look up to see Ghost standing there, pinching your card between his fingers.
He is livid.
“What the fucking fucking shit, sergeants?” He murmurs.
“Apologies,” Soap replies, utterly unaware of what he’s done, “Hope we didn’t ruin anything important.”
“This,” Ghost says quietly as he raises the destroyed card, “was a get-well-soon card for Price.”
“Sorry guys,” Gaz apologises as he wipes the table off. “Soap and I will go buy another o-”
“SHE MADE THIS!” Ghost yells at him, “SHE MADE THIS WITH HER OWN HANDS!”
Soap furrows his brow. “Why would you make a card when you can buy one?” he wonders.
Ghost slaps his thigh, muttering profanities under his breath. You try to convince him that it’s alright and that a store-bought card will do just fine, but he cuts you off and looks at the sergeants.
“Why make a card instead of just buying one?” He asks and brings the tips of his fingers together, waving his hand back and forth in front of the two sergeants. “Because a hand-made card is more meaningful and personal than buying a generic one, you dimwits,” he lectures them and turns to you.
“Can you make another one, Y/N?” He asks softly.
You lower your head to the ground. “I’m afraid I’ve run out of banda-”
“SHE DOESN’T HAVE ANY MORE BANDAGES, YA PRICKS!”
“And I had only one sheet of paper.”
“AND SHE HAD ONL-” he pauses. “How come you only got one sheet?” He asks, and you explain that you weren’t supposed to be on the HR premises, so you had to act quickly. Ghost lets out a deep sigh as he looks at the ruined card.
“Sergeant Mactavish, go get a few sheets of paper from my office,” he instructs before turning to Gaz. “Sergeant Garrick,” he orders, “go to the medic; tell him that your new boots have caused blisters on your feet, and you need a few bandages to patch them up.”
They both nod and leave to go fetch your supplies. Ghost turns to you and crumbles your—already—destroyed card.
“Don’t be sad, kid,” he comforts you, “I’ll help you make another one.”
“Really, Lt.?” You ask, grinning.
“Damn right I will,” he says as he takes off his gloves, “and it’ll have bandages and bedsheets full of fucking glitter and everything nice on it.”
———————————————————————
A/N: The card was inspired by this tutorial from Jennie Moraitis; all credit goes to her. Here’s a picture of the card from her website!
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4K notes · View notes
choism · 8 months
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Jester's Game | b.tc
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Captain Buggy x Pirate!afab!Reader
Genre: smut, angst, fluff (If you squint)
Summary: Trying to overtake Captain Buggy's ship leaves you asking questions, and surprisingly, getting answers
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: top!buggy, afab!reader, unprotected sex (pls dont), cunnilingus, fingering, creampie, squirting, rough sex, gentle sex (yeah wild), inappropriate use of detached limbs, spit as lube (also a no no), overstimulation, pet names (sweetheart, princess)
A/N: WOOHOO ITS MY FIRST NON KPOP FIC!! I knew I would write for other stuff eventually but I definitely did not expect it to be a recent hyperfixation. Buggy just has me bricked up okay! Anyway I hope y'all enjoy, don't forget to let me know what you thought of the fic in the tags !
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It’s a rather unfortunate series of events, really. Sure, you could’ve told your navigator to sail away from the ship with the giant clown crossbones flag. Yeah, it might’ve helped if you had told your crew that they were about to fight some of the toughest pirates in the East Blue. But where’s the fun in that? As their captain, it’s your job to seek the adventure, and well, this was an adventure all right.
It started with you telling your men to approach, cannons firing, your crew hopping their ship, the infamous ship commandeered by none other Buggy The Clown. Yes, the ship your measly crew has decided to board. Listen, it was strategic! Buggy had somehow gotten the map to the grand line back, and your ship just so happened to be within the vicinity of his, so why not seek the opportunity to take it? Well that was your first mistake.
Now, you find yourself here, hands bound behind your back and kneeling with your crew in front of Buggy’s stupid, dumb throne in his stupid, dumb circus tent cabin.
“You all truly are fools for thinking you could take on my band of freaks,” Buggy lazily sprawls over his throne, seemingly unimpressed by your, in his words, ‘lackluster crew’.
“It’s funny actually, how pathetic it was, I mean even Mohji got in a few punches! Ha! Truly a fine show.” The man you assume being the Mohji that Buggy had just poked fun at, slumps his shoulders sadly at his jab. “Now, time to get to the good stuff…” Buggy trails off, standing up and taking a few strides in your direction, his dirty boots stopping directly in front of you. He detaches his hand and uses it to lift your head, pointing your chin up to look him in the eye.
Looking up, you spit and it lands on his cheek, he simply swipes it off with his attached, gloved hand. “So what if you defeated us, it doesn’t make you any better of a pirate, and doesn’t get you any closer to the One Piece.” You tilt your head and smirk. He may have overcome your crew, but he will never overcome your overwhelming ego and pride. It matches his just as equally.
“Ah, that's where you’re wrong, princess,” His grin is just as wide as yours, and briefly you’re confused, what could he mean? “Given your set of thieving skills, probably some of the best in the East Blue, I’ve heard, you’re gonna join my band of freaks, and I’m not giving you a choice sweetheart,” Buggy removes his hand from your chin, and it floats to his arm, re-attaching itself.
“Boys, throw their crew overboard, we have no use for them.” He rolls his eyes and sits back on his throne, “Oh! And go show them to their new quarters, make them feel at home.” Buggy laughs a deep boisterous laugh, one that genuinely sends shivers down your spine.
The pirates lead you into, what is actually, quite a nice room in the lower deck of the cabin, lit by a few candles, and a cot in the corner. Surprisingly, they cut you out of your ropes, and shut the door without locking it. What’s their deal? Don’t they know you can escape at any time if you wanted? Sneak out and steal one of their emergency boats, and sail to the nearest Island? Granted, you aren’t sure where the nearest Island is, you’re a thief, not a navigator.
Instead of worrying about escaping, you roam the small room, admiring your surroundings. The whole ship is clown themed, front he flags to the cabin to everything, but this room is different. Not a single sign of jester-like decorations anywhere. In fact, it’s as if this cabin was decorated specifically for you. Before you can think more of it, the door opens suddenly.
Buggy enters, and closes the door behind him. When he enters you’re sitting on the cot, legs crossed and unamused.
“Not thinking about escaping? Not that you could anyway, we are miles away from the nearest island, and realistically it would take you days to get there on one of our measly boats.” He rolls his eyes, as if annoyed by how small and fragile the boats are, before sitting backwards on the chair at the short desk next to the cot.
“So what do you even need a thief for? Why am I here?” You blurt, already growing impatient from the lack of information being given to you.
“I need you for many reasons, being a thief is only one of them, sweetheart.” Buggy grins and removes his hat, setting it on the desk. “You already have connections at the grand line, and while I know you need my map to get there, I know that you know the people I need to talk to, to gain safe entry without slaughtering half the fucking pirates there.” He leans back and relaxes a bit, observing your facial features.
“And why do you think any of the people I know would want to help you? You’re just some lowly pirate.” You spit at him, angered by his casualness. In what world would you even willingly help him? Who does he think he is?
“Ha…Me? A lowly pirate? This coming from the literal captain of a crew is hilarious! Tell me another joke, please.” He grins knowingly, he knows how to get a rise out of you for sure. You look over his facial expression, smugness overtakes his face and it makes your stomach twist, not with disgust though for some odd reason, with another feeling you don’t quite recognize. 
This whole situation has you feeling all kinds of anxious. How did you just happen to raid the ship of a pirate who just happened to need you for this specific thing, and why is his presence making you feel so…weird? Something isn’t right here, and it can’t be because of your connections to the grand line. No, he’s hiding something. 
“What are you hiding, clown? There’s something you aren’t telling me.”
His face drops, and he gets suddenly very serious, “Listen here, princess,” Buggy gets up from the chair and gets close to you, leaning down, your noses almost touching. “You’re gonna get me to the grand line, I don’t care if I have to torture it out of you, got it? No more questions tonight.” He gets up and suddenly grins very brightly, as if nothing ever happened. “Night night!” Buggy walks out and slams the door, then you hear a locking sound.
Fuck, he locked you in your room. You should’ve expected this, honestly. The way he reacted to your question was so strange. You knew there was something fishy, but you didn’t think whatever it was could’ve prompted that kind of reaction out of him. 
***
The next day you wake up to yelling outside of your cramped room. Yawning, you get up and put your ear to the door,
“I’m sorry Captain Buggy! I didn’t know that was their ship I swear I promise!”
You hear what sounds like a kick to the jaw and a yelp,
“Didn’t know? Didn’t know?! You couldn’t tell by the giant crossbones flag that very obviously bares their symbol? I’m tired of you, someone go throw him off the deck.”
You hear screams and pleads of “No please!” and “I didn’t know I’m sorry captain!” before hearing water splash, then silence, then- oh shit footsteps coming towards your room. You scramble back to your cot and lay down, pretending to sleep. You hear a couple of knocks before hearing a feint “What the fuck am I doing, I go where I want!” Before Buggy barges into the room after unlocking it.
“Get up, I know you heard everything.” He spits gruffly, sitting back in the chair again the same way as yesterday. You sit up abruptly. Last night you couldn’t shake this feeling, of what you felt when Buggy had gotten so serious, and it’s just gotten worse being in his presence. Your abdomen feels hot, your ears feel hot, everything feels hot. It’s like butterflies in your stomach if the butterflies were armed with knives.
“Yes, I did hear, what do you mean by my symbol? I thought bumping into you was a coincidence?” Buggy smiles faintly, and chuckles.
“Yes, it was, I wasn’t informed of what ship we attacked, just that my men captured you all, oh but when I saw you…I knew.” Buggy stands up and motions for you to do the same, getting so close to you, your chests almost touch. He brings his hand to your arm, caressing down the length before gripping your wrist harshly, causing you to wince. “Do you….” he trails off, “Do you really not remember me?” He brings his eyes from your arm to your face, making direct eye contact.
You struggle to find words, what does he mean, remember? Yeah, he gives you a strange feeling everytime you're near him, but you’ve never met this man in your entire life. You think. Honestly you can’t remember anything before the age of seventeen.
“I– no, no I don’t…”
His smile fades, and he lets go of you, “I thought you would remember once you saw me, we were on Gold Roger’s crew together years ago, but you went missing after a particularly tough battle.” He pauses, thinking carefully about what to say next, “You– We– We were close, and I was devastated, I thought you were dead.” He’s being surprisingly vulnerable right now, and it’s kind of scaring you.
“I don’t really remember anything before I turned seventeen, All I know is one day I woke up on an island, a group of pirates took me in, I left, and I’ve been on my own since. The only reason I am where I am today is because I wanted to find who I was, and I figured I could find that out at the grand line.” You feel overwhelmingly sad. Why are you sad? You don’t even know him.
There’s a long silence between the two of you, it’s uncomfortable, tight, and makes you want to leave, until he says, “Let me show you.” He says abruptly, and you think you see a blush across his face.
“Sorry, I mean, please,” Buggy steps into your space again, this time his eyes flit between your lips and your eyes, back to your lips. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find you, I’m sorry you had to go through that, I missed you so much y/n” That was the first time he’s said your name this entire time, but it’s not one you recognize.
“Is that my name?” Your lip quivers, he’s so close now, your lips are inches apart.
“Yes it is, y/n, sweetheart, princess, I’ll call you whatever you want, just let me show you.” The thick air has disappeared and is now replaced with tension. Something deeper, heavier, fills the room. But it’s not a bad thing.
“Let me show you who you were to me.”
You let his face drop to yours, and your lips finally connect.
The kiss is slow, languid. It’s like his lips were meant to connect with yours. Buggy wraps his arms around your waist. Pulling you in closer, and kissing you deeper. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you let him kiss you as deep as he wants. The pace quickens and he slots his leg in between yours, rubbing against your pants and providing much needed friction.
You moan into his touch and he walks the both of you backwards until the back of your knees reach the bed. He lowers you onto it and hovers above you, kissing you again before departing. “Is this okay?” Buggy asks, brushes his hands underneath the bottom of your shirt, slowly lifting it.
“Only if you return the favor.” He chuckles and lowers his head to your neck, sucking and biting gently while riding up your shirt until your chest is exposed. You sit up briefly to take off your shirt and as promised, he does the same. He isn’t overly ripped like most pirates are, but he’s still well toned. His muscles flex as he shifts lower, kissing down your chest, down your stomach and stopping just above the navel.
“When I saw you were the one my men captured, it took my breath away,” He lifts your hips so he can remove your pants and undergarments, “I was scared, anxious, I didn’t know what to do, so I pretended I knew you for your skills, not for your past.” After removing everything, he pushes back, kissing your thighs before sitting up, taking his gloves off with his teeth and throwing them to the side. Man that was hot.
Buggy detaches one of his hands and lets it roam up your torso, reaches your neck and gives it a gentle squeeze. Before leading his fingers over your mouth, asking for entry. You grant it and his index and middle finger slip into your mouth, swirling your saliva around and coating them generously. “When you suspected I knew more, I didn’t know what to do. When you boarded I just knew you by name, not face, there was no way I could’ve expected this.”
He removes his hand from your mouth and moves it down to your center, rubbing through your folds gently and inserting two fingers, scissoring you open and prepping you for what's to come. Buggy uses his still detached hand to remove his own trousers, his cock springing free from its confines. He strokes it slowly, clearly getting off to his detached hand fingering you open.
“Buggy…” You moan, you can’t even reply or form a sentence, the pleasure too good.
“Shhh just relax sweetheart, I’ll take care of you.” He brings his hand away from your now dripping cunt, reattaching it and leaning down. You feel his breathe over your core, he kisses your clit before taking it in his mouth, lapping up your taste and fucking you onto his tongue. You can feel your orgasm approaching quickly as he flits between sucking on your clit and tonguing inside of you, but he pulls away.
“Fuck! Why’d you–”
You’re interrupted by his cock entering you and your legs being lifted by his hands so he can enter as deep as possible. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full before. His cock fits so nice and feels so good and he hasn’t even moved yet.
“Fuck you’re so tight and wet for me, so fucking good huh? Letting me fuck you like this.” His pupils are so blown out, he watches his own cock pull out and start to thrust into you, it just fuels your arousal further. Buggy starts out slow, just getting you used to his size before he picks up the pace, fucking into you even deeper and faster.
“Shit, gonna cum Buggy please.” He moves your legs to prop onto his shoulders and he grabs onto your waist, pushing down and holding you in place as he fucks into you roughly.
“Gonna cum for me? Go ahead sweetheart. Cum all over my cock.” He moves his hand over your abdomen and presses down, the pressure making you feel dizzy. You feel white hot, the band finally snapping as you come. “Fuck, gonna cum soon too, gonna fill you up so good.”
Buggy relentlessly fucks into your cunt, overstimulating you and causing a pressure to build that’s unfamiliar. “Wait Buggy I, fuck I feel weird it feels good.” Soon, with a loud cry you feel a wetness rush between your legs, causing you to let out a loud string of moans and curses.
“Squirting for me already? God you’re full of surprises. Shit, I’m coming.” A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his hot cum fill you up, as promised. It feels so good. He slows down and pulls out, his load leaking out of you and onto the sheets below. “So good for me.” He whispers, leaning down and kissing you gently. He cleans the both of you up quickly and gets dressed, ready to go back to his quarters for the night.
“Wait Buggy, before you go…” You trail off and he turns around, listening intently. “If you don’t mind, can you tell me more about my- about our, past? I need to know where I came from, what happened.” Buggy smiles gently, walking up and kissing you on the forehead.
“Of course princess, later”
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© Choism 2023. do not repost or translate.
2K notes · View notes
roosterforme · 3 months
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Smarter Than the Average Beer Boy | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: After months of attending your lectures, Bradley has honed his math skills beyond his wildest expectations. A night out with the boys reveals just how smart and endearing your husband really is, even when he has a hangover.
Warnings: Swears, fluff, drinking, oral sex, shirtless Beer Boy, 18+
Length: 3100 words
Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)
Happy birthday to @cherrycola27!
This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Banner by @thedroneranger Check out my masterlist
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You were on your way to teach your last class of the day, and it was your least favorite one. When the class schedules were being organized for next semester, you planned on begging Dr. Rosenthal to let you trade this awful linear algebra class away for one of his calculus lectures. Because at least calculus was something to which you could add a little spice to keep your students interested, unlike this one.
Even though you already ate the snack your husband packed in your tie dye lunchbox, you were still hungry. You'd have to remind him to pack you something extra next Thursday. But as you were on your way to the lounge to quickly get something from the vending machine, you heard his voice. 
"Sugar."
You spun around in your loafers and tweed skirt and saw your husband in full khaki uniform heading your way. "Beer Boy. What are you doing here?" you asked, giving up on the idea of a snack and heading in his direction instead. "I'm about to give a lecture."
"I know," he said with a smirk, voice all deep and raspy. "I got dismissed early, and I stopped at home to get you a snack. Thought maybe I could join your lecture tonight since I won't get to spend tomorrow evening with you."
You almost dropped your notebook as you wrapped your arms around his waist and propped your chin on his chest. "Are you my snack?" you asked as he leaned down to kiss you.
"Nor exactly," he laughed, holding up two small containers. "I brought you some homemade hummus and pita chips. But if you want to skip your lecture and head up to your office, I'd be more than happy to fuck you while I feed you."
"Tempting," you told him with a moan. He was always so sure of himself when he was with you, and it was a massive turn on. But when he grinned and started pulling you toward the elevators, you had to dig your loafers in. "I can't let my students down," you said with a little pout. "Come on. You can sit in the back and take notes."
"Nah. I'll just watch my hot wife in action. Take some mental notes that I can think about at the bachelor party tomorrow night."
You rolled your eyes as you took the containers from him. "You'll have so much fun with Jake and the boys, you won't even be thinking about me at all."
"Newsflash, Dr. Sugar," he whispered as you entered the lecture hall with his hand on your butt. "I'm always thinking about you."
-----------------------
Yes, it was fun watching you work. Your lectures were informative, and you were very passionate about the subject. You were also gorgeous, and Bradley wouldn't mind watching you do this all day long. And sure, he loved that you wrote a few problems on the board for your students to work through so you could eat the hummus and pita chips he brought. And yeah, he squirmed a bit in his seat when you winked at him from the podium as you licked your fingertip. 
But the really interesting thing was the fact that Bradley was getting pretty fucking good at math now. If he could go back to undergrad studies, he might even choose it as his major instead of political science. Nobody ever really encouraged him to show off his smarts after his mom died. Well, besides you. There was something about the way you always recognized that he was intelligent that made him fall even harder for you. And since he knew what it felt like to live without you for ten years, he didn't mind watching you teach the same classes over and over. He just wanted to be around you.
When you asked if there were any volunteers to work through the problem, Bradley was able to follow every detail and come up with the correct answer from his seat. And when you finally ended the class, he went up to the front of the room and kissed your cheek right in front of the straggling students. "Any chance you can bring one of the homework sheets home for me to work on later this weekend?" he asked, stealing your last pita chip.
You looked up at him with adoring eyes, and it wasn't fair, because you knew what those little tweed skirts did to him. "You're really going to work on a problem set?" 
"Yeah," he told you with a shrug. "Why not? This class was fun, and maybe you can check my answers and reward me?" he asked hopefully. 
"If you want to be my top student, you better get them all correct." You ran your fingers along the front of his khakis as you picked up your notebook and started walking away.
"I'll be so good, Baby," he promised as he followed you out. He was planning on working on the problems on Sunday after he spent all day Saturday recovering from Jake's bachelor party. Tomorrow night was for the boys, but tonight he would be spending with you. 
When he got you home, he boiled a pot of water for some of the homemade pasta he made and dried last weekend, and he started heating up some of his homemade sauce and meatballs. "This is so fucking sexy," you whispered, rubbing up on him in your tweed while you sipped a beer. "You are really good at feeding me."
He stole the bottle and drank some. "You're really good at everything else." When he tried to hand it back, you just shook your head and dropped slowly to your knees. He was already a little hard from all the tweed rubbing, but then you kissed his zipper, and his dick responded immediately. "Look at that. I didn't even have to do the math problems."
You grinned up at him while he sipped the beer. "Maybe this is just a little reminder for you to be good tomorrow night when you're out with the boys. No drinking and driving. No letting them get into fights. No playing beer pong without me. If you're good, then there's more where this came from."
Bradley was really enjoying the cold beer as you undid his belt and button before you eased his zipper down. "I'll be so good. I'm a hundred percent domesticated."
You moaned as his cock sprang free, and you rubbed your face against him. "I know." He was about to tell you he'd been that way since the two of you were college seniors, but suddenly all coherent thoughts left his brain. You were gently kissing his balls as you ran your fingers up underneath his shirt and teased his abs. "You're a very good boy."
His cock was throbbing and tapping you on the cheek as your tongue flicked out to taste him. "Sugar," he grunted before sipping the beer again. 
"Hmm." You were looking up at him as your lips barely met his skin. "What should I do with you?" Somehow you were making Bradley feel submissive even though you were on your knees for him, and he tipped his head back and groaned.
"Fuck me up, Sugar."
"Gladly," you replied, and he felt your tongue draw a slow and steady line from his tight balls all the way to the head of his cock. Bradley watched as you took the very tip of his bouncing length between your pretty lips. All you did was hold eye contact as you sucked on him like he was a piece of candy, your fingers tickling the trail of hair below his belly button, and he was mesmerized. 
"Those pouty lips will be the death of me," he whispered before sipping the beer again. "So fucking pretty." You sucked on him a little harder, and he clenched. Damn, you hadn't even taken him deep yet, and he was already eager. But he didn't care, because you already knew what you did to him.
Then you popped him free, rubbed your nose against his trimmed pubes before kissing his tip and said, "I love you." Then you grabbed him by the hips and let him slide all the way so he was tapping the back of your throat. 
"Oh, fuck," he grunted, already thinking about you gagging on his cum. You shook your head slightly when he was deep, and tears filled your eyes as you sucked. Bradley gripped the bottle, his voice only a harsh whisper as he said, "That's it. That's it. Fuck."
A few more deep thrusts had you struggling, which was honestly so fucking hot to him. You were making desperate little sounds, but you bobbed on him until you gagged. And that's really all it took.
You moaned as he filled your mouth, and he ran his thumb along your cheek as you gently sucked every drop from him. "Show it to me," he whispered softly and you smiled as you released him. Slowly, you parted your lips and tilted your face up for him, showing off your cupped tongue full of his cum. "Beautiful."
Then you swallowed him down and kissed his drained balls once more before you stood and took the beer bottle from his hand. Casually, you took a sip like you didn't just leave him twitching before you. "Is dinner almost ready?"
He was still thinking about it the next night when he was out with all the guys. Jake was marrying Jessica in a month, and all he asked for was a night of bar hopping. Normally Bradley would have been very good at this, but he was thinking about the way he'd fed you bites of pasta while standing in the kitchen as you moaned over how delicious it was. 
"Come on, Rooster, have a shot," Payback said, passing him some tequila. Just a few drinks would help him focus on the night with the guys. "Bottoms up." 
But at first, the drinks just made him think about calling you to see what you were up to. Jessica was supposed to stop by the house to hang out for a while, and he wondered if she was still there. Maybe she left and you were already changed into his Grateful Dead shirt for bed. Maybe he could just get an Uber right now and go home and find out for himself. He'd slip right into bed next to you. 
"Time for the karaoke bar!" Javy announced, and then Bradley had more shots in front of him before he ended up onstage, and he couldn't be sure where his shirt went, but oh well, it didn't really matter since his favorite shirt was at home with you, and it was suddenly time to sing. 
But he did remember to text you and let you know he'd be home very late.
-------------------------
Having the empty house to yourself felt a bit like it did when Bradley was deployed. So in that respect, it made you a little antsy. But on the other hand, it was peaceful when you had Jessica over for some snacks and a glass of wine. It was close to midnight when a bunch of photos came through to your phone and hers. 
"Oh no," she groaned as you scrolled through the images from Mickey. It appeared as though Bradley lost his shirt. Typical. 
"They are a mess," you muttered, finally getting to one where the guys were physically holding Jake up. "You're going to have your work cut out for you tomorrow."
She shook her head but laughed. "I think I'll head home and wait for him. I don't know if he'll even be able to make it from the front door to the bedroom without help."
"Bradley doesn't look much better," you added as you got to the last photo where he was chugging a beer, the amber liquid dribbling down his neck and bare chest. "Oh Lord."
"Call me tomorrow and let me know how bad it is?"
"Yeah," you agreed, walking her to the door and giving her a hug. 
And then you were met with silence again. You changed into Bradley's tie dye shirt and his robe that he'd had since college, but you weren't even slightly tired now. You glanced across the hallway to your office door covered in your own handwriting. 
SUGAR LOVES BEER BOY
Working through an advanced calculus problem before bed would definitely help you unwind. You walked to your white board while you looked up a problem on your phone and then scribbled it down and got to work. Oh, this one was a bit tricky with lots of side math to complete first. The squeak of your marker was soothing, and by the time you got to your tenth line in the proof solution, you were yawning.
"Works like a charm," you muttered, capping the marker and heading back across the hall where you climbed into bed. 
At one point during the night, you thought you heard Bradley stumble in the front door. "Beer Boy?" you called out, rolling over in bed.
You heard him slur, "It's just me, Sugar," followed by the sound of the refrigerator opening up. He'd come to bed eventually after he got a snack. You scooted back all the way to your side, preemptively trying to avoid him being a sticky, sweaty mess. You smiled and curled up, and you were back to sleep in seconds. 
But he never did come to bed, as evidenced by the still crisp bedding on his side when you woke up again at nine. You stretched and climbed out from the pocket of warmth and reached for his robe before you went to search the house. 
You started in the kitchen, thinking that being near the refrigerator might have been more appealing than the bed, but he wasn't there. You glanced out back and on the living room couch, but you didn't see him anywhere. 
"Bradley?" you called out as you looked in the bathroom, but he hadn't even fallen asleep in the tub. You pressed your lips together as you poked your head inside your office and gasped. "Seriously?"
He was sound asleep on the floor, his shirt nowhere to be seen, and he was snoring loudly. An empty ice cream carton and spoon were next to his head, and it looked like he'd eaten a value sized bag of pretzels. There were a few more wrappers and a lot of crumbs on the floor, and you just gaped at him as he started to roll onto his side and look around.
"What the fuck? Why is it such a mess in here? I just cleaned on Wednesday," he groaned, hair sticking up at every angle. He tilted his head and looked up at you through squinted eyes. "What happened?"
You gave him an incredulous look. "Why don't you tell me?"
He continued to look around the room as he sat up. "I don't know," he replied, pushing the pretzel bag to the side as he cradled his forehead in his palm. "Last thing I remember is the guys making me sing Caress Me Down for karaoke. Where's my shirt?"
Your deep sigh should have been warning enough for him, but he looked down at his abs, shocked that he was only wearing half of his outfit. "Once again, Bradley, why don't you tell me?"
"Baby, how am I supposed to know?" he whined. "God, now I have a fucking hangover, and I can't think."
If Jake was also this bad at the moment, then Jessica might need a reassuring phone call later. Hopefully he hadn't destroyed the carpet in their condo. You needed to get Bradley into the shower and then put him in bed so you could clean up the floor, but your eyes caught on your white board, and you gasped. "Bradley."
"What now?" he moaned as he got to his hands and knees in the crumbs. "My head is throbbing."
Your eyes skimmed from the top of the board to the very bottom, and you started laughing. He was looking up at you, confusion swirling along his handsome features as you had to brace your hands on your knees while you gasped for air and cackled. "Beer Boy!"
"Okay, yes," he grunted. "I'm beginning to think I was actually the one who made the mess in here, but I'll clean it up. It's not that funny."
"Bradley!" you screeched, pointing to the board. "You solved my advanced calculus problem!"
Slowly and seemingly painfully, he turned his head to look and crawled closer to the wall. "I don't think so," he muttered. "I don't even know what all of that means." He was standing on his knees, and trying so hard to figure it out. "Holy shit, that's my handwriting."
"It definitely is," you said through your laughter as you gently combed your fingers through his messy hair. He practically melted against your leg with his big hand on your thigh below his robe. "I am... somehow really impressed by this? You got drunk, got a ride home at four in the morning, and then you solved an advanced math problem before you passed out on my office floor."
"Yeah, I'm impressive as hell," he whispered, kissing you through the robe fabric. 
"You know... if you weren't so terribly hungover, I'd offer to blow you again like yesterday. Because this is something only my very best student would be able to do. And I love rewarding my best student." 
You stroked his cheek softly with your knuckles as he stared up at you with parted lips. "Professor Sugar," he rasped. "I'm totally fine. Barely hungover at all."
"Are you sure?" you laughed. "You look a little rough. And you made a huge mess."
"Yeah," he replied immediately. "I'm great. Wanna join me in the shower?"
You bent to kiss his forehead and whispered, "If you think you can handle it."
"Hell yes," he groaned, trying three times before he was able to get to his feet. Then he took you by the hand, and you helped him down the hallway to the bathroom. 
You pointed out the small closet on the way. "And when we're done, the vacuum cleaner is just hanging out right in there, waiting for you to clean up my office."
"Yeah, okay."
------------------------
Happy birthday, Nik! When you mentioned this idea, it had me cracking up. I hope you enjoy it as a birthday gift one day early! Thanks @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger
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lisired · 1 month
Text
waiting game
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pairing: best friend’s dad!johnny x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut, dilf au, age gap, unprotected sex (dont b silly wrap yo mf willy!), orgasm denial, edging, half the fic is just johnny & mc teasing each other to death, oral (f receiving), fingering around people
summary: Your best friend’s dad is a smoking hot dilf seeking vengeance after you’ve spent the past couple of years teasing him, but it seems that you can’t handle a taste of your own medicine.
word count: 9.1k
a/n: ¼ of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!
Time was something ironic to you. It flew by quickly when you were having fun, yet seemed to drag on when the moments were dull. If you had to give a prime example, it would be now.
This current moment, with you listening impatiently to the vexing sound of your clock ticking while counting down the minutes before you got to see Johnny again. You had a study date with your best friend - his daughter - in over half an hour, and you were beginning to wish that you hadn’t planned your outfit so far in advance. Now you had nothing to distract you from your throbbing heartbeat in the meantime. 
To say the least, every moment with Johnny was nothing short of thrilling, no matter how brief. He had the power to summon a swarm of butterflies in your stomach with a mere smile - unbeknownst to him, of course. As far as you knew, Johnny knew nothing of your silly little crush on him and you wanted to keep it that way. It was fun to imagine what it would be like if he reciprocated your crush, but that’s precisely all it was—your imagination. Hypothetical situations you could only fantasize about. You had to give yourself the tough reminder that he’d never be into his daughter’s best friend. He could never.
Still, you liked Johnny. He was friendly and though he told his dad jokes, he was funny. He was confident. He knew how to cook and he was smart, and you liked that he always knew how to direct conversation. You and Johnny talked sometimes, usually whenever you stayed for dinner, or breakfast. He had never let you feel invisible, or like you were invading a space that wasn’t yours. He welcomed you.
But of course, he was also smoking hot. Smoldering, even. You recalled the first time you laid eyes on him, when you were visiting your best friend and he was in the front yard, mowing the grass. Sweats and a tanktop. Hair stuck to his forehead like a second layer. Drenched in sweat as he battled the summertime heat. Sometimes you still wondered if he caught you gawking, whether it was when you first saw him looking like that or when he told you that he was your best friend’s father and not her brother.
(You were even more surprised to hear that he was in his forties. He could have passed for late-twenties, and you almost scanned his head for a sight of a single grey hair but decided that would have been rude).
Yet as attractive as he was in every sense of the word, there came again the rough reminder that he was equally out-of-bounds. It always slammed roughly against you whenever you daydreamed about him, forcing you to remember that there was a boundary between you both. You could not have Johnny. And even if he were to want you, he couldn’t have you, either. God forbid you thought about how unrequited this was.
None of that ever stopped you from liking him, though. In your heart, there was still an ounce of hope that maybe something could blossom between you, weeding its way through the cracks of the invisible boundary.
What were those cracks? Easy: temptation.
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Like any other day, Johnny looked absolutely mouthwatering. He wore a satin shirt and dark jeans, brown hair parted and his skin gleaming beneath the kitchen light. You desperately wanted to make your move right then, but your best friend crashing into your arms forced you to remember why you couldn’t.
“Gosh, I missed you,” Jessica cheered as she wrapped her arms around you firmly.
“It hasn’t even been three days since you last saw me,” you replied amusedly, nonetheless hugging her back. Jessica wasn’t your best friend for no reason. She was closer to you than anyone else, even your own parents. She knew everything there was to know about you. You knew that you could tell her anything, but this was different. You’d rather take this one to the grave.
She rolled her eyes as she loosened her embrace and let you go, “Whatever. Three days, three weeks, it all feels the same,” she said dramatically, making you both snicker. “But for real, my dad was like, just making dinner. Wanna join us?”
It had smelled delicious all the way from the front door. But that was Johnny for you, with cooking being one of his favorite habits. You would feel bad about eating their food though, so you leaned towards declining.
As if he could hear your reply before you said it, Johnny chimed in from the kitchen, “I made your favorite.”
That shut you up before you could reply. Your mouth hang open then closed, and after a moment of self-debate you opened it again. “Shit, pass me a plate,” you’d have to be running a fever or replaced by a shape-shifting alien to turn down Johnny’s chicken Alfredo.
You rested your backpack for now, ignoring their laughter as you strolled inside the kitchen.
By the time dinner ended, Jessica had to unexpectedly leave, mentioning something about a work emergency that you failed to completely catch. You didn’t mind too much, of course. It gave you the perfect excuse to stay in company of Johnny, and you even offered to help him wash the dishes as a thank you for dinner.
“Thank you for helping me with the dishes. You didn’t have to,” Johnny said, stretching his arm to put one final dish away in the cabinet. His sleeves were rolled up so you eyed his biceps like they were the meal, but forced yourself to look away before he could notice.
“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I could do after you made such a wonderful meal, sir,” you replied respectfully. In the same breath, it took everything in you not to let your eyes trail down his body. His shirt was unbuttoned, leaving all the good stuff out in the open.
“Don’t flatter me,” Johnny joked. “Do you know how to cook?”
You couldn’t stop your laughter. “Of course not. I’m a safety hazard in the kitchen.”
Johnny snorted, “Why do you say that?”
“Sir, my expertise extends to instant noodles - hardly even that. One time, I burnt them and nearly killed my microwave.”
Johnny’s eyes crinkled. He knew now to keep you at least six feet away from his microwave, maybe even forbid you from touching his stove or oven. He also thought about giving you lessons. “How in god’s name did you do that?”
“I forgot to put water in them!” You explained, tone laced with shame. “Even if I did know how to cook, my skills are no where near yours. You’re like, the cooking connoisseur. I can’t imagine you forgetting to do something as simple as putting water in noodles.”
“It was an honest mistake,” he replied sympathetically. “But I like hearing about it. Tell me more about your failed cooking escapades.”
“God, where do I even begin? Let me tell you how I got banned from contributing to Thanksgiving dinner,” you said, and went on to explain the whole ordeal.
The way Johnny was snickering at you, it was almost like your conversation had the Victorious laugh track - except his giggles were genuine and the frequency of them didn’t irritate you. He had a beautiful laugh, one that made you simper. It went without saying that Johnny found you entertaining. He knew that he could never drink anything as long as he was around you, in fear that you’d have him spitting out his drink at every funny comment you made.
Johnny also let his eyes linger on your frame. Never had he ever seen anyone make skinny jeans look as stunning as you did, and it helped that your body was highlighted. You could feel his gaze burning into you, but chalked it up to your imagination running wild again. There was no way in hell Johnny Suh was checking you out.
Little did you know, that was exactly what Johnny was as doing. He so desperately wanted to fuck you then and there, but resisted. The opportunity would surface some other day, and to be honest he wanted to see where things would go. You weren’t half as subtle as you thought you were but he was going to play dumb until you quit these little games of your own.
“I’m an excellent cleaner, though,” you added once you concluded your story. Your lips curled into a smirk for the most brief moment, yet Johnny still caught it.
He also didn’t fail to catch the flirtatious undertone. “Yeah? Is that how you secured an extra slice of peach Cobbler versus all your hungry cousins?”
“And siblings. And uncles. And don’t forget my aunt’s seventh husband. But yeah, you get it. Favoritism also goes a long way.”
Johnny was amused, to say the least. He was still stuck on the fact that you had practically just offered yourself as a housewife to him, although it wasn’t necessary. He could think of plenty other ways to use you, other ways that you could put in work for him. It was tempting, but he was more determined to make you wait. He wanted to bottle you up until you exploded, and only then would he bother to clean up your mess.
The sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway ended your conversation abruptly. He seemed quick to wrap things up once he heard the car door lock. “That’s Jess. Thank you, again, for your help. You two are probably about to study now so have fun, and make sure to tell her I’ll be working in my study!”
So typical of Johnny to drown himself in work. A workaholic if you knew one. You were disappointed by the conversation coming to an end, then aroused by a thought in even less time. You knew that he had to be exhausted and could only think about letting him take his stress out on you, bending you over his desk and fucking you with his entire being.
Shaking the thoughts away, you replied, “I will.” Inevitably would you revisit them (or they would revisit you, rather), but for now you had to focus about studying with your best friend.
You weren’t slick at all, and Johnny wondered if you knew that.
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In the following week, you had been coming over more often. That in itself wasn’t suspicious, but he noticed that your clothes became shorter by the day. Nothing completely out of line, yet he couldn’t help but catch how the inches decreased day after the next. He noticed that you became less shameless in flirting with him. At one point he thought that the only way you could be any more obvious was if you confessed the truth, but then you started lying to him. You made up silly excuses as to why you showed up when Jessica wasn’t there, and he had a different plan.
As always, excitement flowed through your veins when you walked through his door. You were always eager to see him, and even more thrilled to show off today’s outfit - one of your favorite skirts paired with a cute top. To be honest, you didn’t know why you were doing this when you had nothing but your intuition to support you, but something told you to dress nicely today.
It was no shocker that Johnny did too. His sleeves were rolled up yet again, muscles peeking through the fabric, and you could only wonder if you’d ever have the luxury of seeing him completely shirtless. Jessica had mentioned earlier inviting you and another friend to chill in the pool this Saturday, but that didn’t mean her dad would be involved. You could only hope, though you were pulled away from the thought when you heard him call your name.
Cluelessly you blinked, asking dumbly, “Did you say something?”
The presence of a smirk was on Johnny’s face for a sliver of a second. You had caught it, and felt your cheeks warm at the thought that you had been caught staring - much worse spacing out - at him.
He repeated, “I said, what’s it today?” And you flushed some more. You obviously knew that you had been over more recently, that was the entire point. But something about him acknowledging it was thrilling yet frightening.
“You say that like I come over every day.”
“It sure feels like it. You might as well keep a key and put some of your things in the spare room,” Johnny retorted. Your heart sank a little at the thought that maybe you really were overdoing it, and sensing a drop in your mood, he added, “Hey, I’m just messing with you. How may I help you today, princess?”
Princess. He had no clue, you could be such a sucker for pet names. You didn’t even know if it was the pet name itself that had your knees wobbly or how it sounded rollling off his tongue, but you didn’t care. You were losing your mind and hardly covering it up.
You cleared your throat. “I left my notebook here, and I just wanted to pick it up.”
Johnny furrowed his eyebrows. “Jessica said that she dropped it off at your place this morning.”
Well, that backfired. It was true that you had left your notebook, and intentionally, but it wasn’t apart of the plan for Jessica to bring it back to you. Now you could only play dumb and pretend that you hadn’t known about it.
“Oh, um,” you were caught, and damn Johnny’s suffocating gaze for not helping at all. You felt like wilting beneath him while he stared at you like that - cynical and inscrutable.
Instead of giving you time to form a reply, Johnny only walked forward, and you had no where to run but backwards, until your rear hit the wall and you were grounded in place. “You wanna know what I think?” He crooned, hardly containing a laugh at how bewildered you looked. “I think that you haven’t been forgetting anything this whole time. I think that you wore this pretty little skirt, all for me.”
You gasped when his hand landed against your skin, raking up your thigh and underneath your skirt. In that moment, you were thankful that you had worn it. Johnny had complete access to your body, and you liked it. You liked how his gaze rooted you in place, still as though he would have somehow punished you for making any sudden movements. It was clear that you could have moved if you wanted, but even clearer that you liked the feeling of power he had over you. You wanted him to control you, to maybe push him to any surrounding limit to see just how commanding he could be.
“I think that you just want my attention, baby girl. Is that right?” He asked, as though he wasn’t feeling the answer. With his fingers circling your panties, you knew he was only asking for any other reason than confirmation.
You whimpered, “Sir, please.”
“Please, what?” Johnny questioned, playing clueless. He knew what you wanted. He had definitely known much longer than expected, you realized. All those times where you were so obviously flirting with him, he was choosing to play dumb and ignore your antics.
“Please touch me,” you begged.
Johnny smiled softly - condescendingly - but he still wore that fake confused expression on his face, “I am touching you though, aren’t I?”
Fuck, were you already getting tired of this. He knew damn well what you meant by touching you, and this wasn’t it. You wanted more. You wouldn’t care if he manhandled you right now, you just were in desperate need of his contact so then, and only then, would you be satisfied.
You could sound no more desperate as you whined, “Sir, please, I need more.”
He only laughed - dead in your face. “I don’t think that you deserve it.”
“I’ll do anything,” you knew that you sounded pathetic, but you had been waiting far too damn long for him to be teasing you like this. You couldn’t think of one reason why you wouldn’t deserve it, but there was already a mental list brewing of things you were ready to do to convince him. If a blowjob was what it would take, you’d be on your knees in an instant.
The offer tempted Johnny and he would be lying if he said that it hadn’t. But you had been teasing him for years now, and he wanted you to know how it felt when the tables were turned. If you were going to play games with him, then he was determined to beat you, to push you to every edge until you caved in to defeat. Johnny wanted you on your knees begging, and he was determined to have that. What better way to play than to give you nothing at all?
He liked the premise of you can look, but you can’t touch. There was no better way that he could punish you than by giving you a taste of your own medicine. Restraining himself was much more difficult than he had let on, but he knew you had half his patience at most. With the tricks he had up his sleeve, he’d have you caught inside his net in no time.
He tilted his head. “You want this?”
“Need it,” you replied without missing a beat.
Just as quickly, Johnny pulled his hand away from underneath your skirt, and therefore followed the little relief he had permitted you. An instant whimper fell from your lips, but it was clear as day that he didn’t care. His laugh mocked you, teased you, and you couldn’t fathom why he was playing with you like this. You wanted to ask him why he was toying with you, but he would beat you to any words.
“That’s too bad,” he replied, nonchalantly. “I want you to wait for it.”
You whined, “Haven’t I waited long enough?”
You didn’t realize how close he was to you until then. Nevermind how his eyes pierced holes through your skin and made you swallow hard, instantly making you regret saying anything. How you could feel the warmth of his body radiating onto you without him touching you - even if he practically was. How he towered over you and made you feel so much smaller in comparison to him, how he made you feel frozen in place with nothing but a mere glance. It was power. It was prominent in his eyes, whispering, You’ll do anything for me. You couldn’t tell if it was a simple statement or a demand, but it was true.
“Don’t you think that I’ve waited long enough?” His eyes were cold. You wanted to move backwards, but there was no escape. You were trapped beneath his gaze with no where to run. “Don’t be so selfish. You’ve been playing your little games with me for the past couple of years. Don’t you think it’s my turn now?”
It was then that you realized what this was. It was revenge - sweet to him, yet so bitter to you. Karma really was a bitch.
You heard a car pulling into the driveway, and Johnny finally stepped away from you. “See you later,” a day, two days, a week - whatever amount of time defined the wait of later, it was too much. Call it greed. Call it selfish. But you just couldn’t wait. You wanted him. You needed him. Your body was yearning for touch, but you could feel nothing but cool air.
You needed Johnny now, and yet he refused to give himself to you.
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It was finally Saturday, and you were nothing less than thrilled. The days in between now and the last time you’d seen Johnny felt closer to weeks and now that you had an excuse, you were going to be downright insufferable. As if you weren’t going to be insufferable either way. With the way things turned out during your encounter with him, you realized than instead of wallowing in defeat, you needed to play back harder. That meant leveling-up and making it known that you weren’t going down without a fight.
As you hoped, Johnny was also in the backyard. Jess had invited you and her crush Mark over for a pool day, and Johnny insisted on grilling for the three of you. You were ninety-nine percent convinced that you were half the reason, with him simply wanting to get at you - and that he did. He looked more mesmerizing than he usually did, sweat making his skin gleam, and it took you back to the first time that you’d seen him.
You shoved the memory into a dark corner in the back of your brain. Determination filled you to the brim, and you had just the trick up your sleeve to make Johnny lose his mind.
“Ready for the pool?” Jessica asked as you both stepped out onto the patio.
It was difficult to hide your smirk as you replied, “Born ready.” You had been planning this moment out for days, and you refused to let reality not match your expectations.
She rushed to get inside the pool with Mark, but you took your sweet time, waiting for the moment when you could feel Johnny’s eyes on you to drop the towel. It revealed a bright red bikini, and the look on his face when you glanced up to capture his reaction was worth a million bucks. He was looking at you like he wanted you, and that alone was enough to satisfy you.
Don’t burn the food, you mouthed cockily, just before sending him a week and diving into the pool with your two friends.
The rest of the afternoon consisted of mutual stares that lingered far too long, and by the time the day began to fade dull you had been in and out of the pool and Johnny had gone inside. With Mark and Jessica being equally sprung for each other it was easy for your third-wheeling adventure to begin, and you were yearning for more excitement, running out of battery from earlier’s thrilll.
Some time later, you all agreed to end the night here and Mark and Jessica decided to go on a walk before he went home. It being implied that you were going home, you all bid your good farewells to each other and headed out of the pool.
But when they left, there was Johnny standing on the patio, eyeing you as you stood by the edge of the pool. “Heading out?”
“I was,” you replied, but if he intended on staying out here then maybe you’d charge your mind.
“So not anymore,” Johnny smirked as he put the pieces together. “Let me join you.”
You shrugged, as a sign of not caring what he chose to do, in spite of the fact that your heart was racing. You sank back into the water, preferred it over the feeling of freezing air prickling your skin. Johnny’s eyes never left yours as he made move for the pool, but yours left his the moment he tugged his shirt above his head.
Of fucking course, he was ripped.
Feigning nonchalance was becoming difficult - your mouth watered and you could hardly stop your eyes from popping out of their sockets. To make matters worse, he looked even better in the water with his skin golden, water gleaming in the moonlight. The cocky look on his face proved he knew it all too well, and you were struggling now more than ever to restrain yourself.
“Bet you thought you were slick for what you pulled this afternoon.”
You smirked at the memory. Of course, you didn’t. The whole point was to provoke him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about,” Johnny groaned. It sounded hotter than it should’ve, and now you were ready to clip the conversation and cut to the action. “You walking around trying to provoke me.”
You retaliated, “I wouldn’t have to if you would just fuck me.”
It was clearly the wrong answer, you concluded from the way his eyes seemed to darken. He’d put you in your place right then and there if that wasn’t exactly what you wanted. But it was, and Johnny knew that in spite of your front you were crumbling. It wouldn’t be very long before he had you bowing down at his feet.
He seemed calm, though the look in his eye was anything but. “I told you, you don’t deserve it,” Johnny replied patiently. You were a pain in the ass, but he still enjoyed making you wait. It was so obviously driving you crazy, and the day what little patience you had remaining dissipated, he was going to have so much fun with you.
“How can I earn it?” You asked meekly. It was slowly coming to you that Johnny had a resolve of steel, and it would take more than flaunty outfits to get under his skin. You didn’t know what to do and it was making you want to yank your hair.
“Behave,” he said, like you were a toddler. “And maybe I’ll consider it sooner.”
He was climbing out of the pool before you could even think of a response, and even when you called out his name he never turned around. You wondered what he was getting out of this. You knew that all your teasing played a major role, but it seemed to have the opposite effect of what was intended. Instead of wrapping him around your finger, Johnny walked further away from your spell. A part of you kind of liked it. Another part of you wasn’t sure how to adapt. Most boys came to you in a flock at the sight of skin, a little flirting here and there and they were your pawns. But Johnny was so much more complicated, and for once the instructions were unclear to you. You winded up frustrating yourself further instead in your attempts to frustrate him.
He was a puzzle with a million pieces and you couldn’t figure out how to put him together. A stranger you weren’t to challenges, but he was the toughest competition you’d face and the worst part was that he seemed to have you all figured out.
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You always used to think that people were exaggerating when they expressed their desire for someone else. No feeling could ever be so strong as to tear someone apart that way. Yet now that you were in a position where something so close to you felt so far away, you finally understood. You finally knew what it meant to yearn for someone, and it was killing you slowly.
You craved Johnny. It didn’t matter if you were in the same room because he’d pretend as though everything was normal between you and you couldn’t fathom how he could ignore the tension so easily. Especially when it was all you could feel whenever you were in the same space together.
Next Friday was when things began to stir up. Jessica had invited you and Mark over for dinner and considering their obvious crush on each other, they sat beside each other. That left one seat remaining - the one across Mark, directly beside Johnny.
That’s how you landed yourself in this predicament. Johnny’s long fingers plunging in and out of you from underneath the table. It started with his hand simply resting on your thigh but then he started rubbing circular patterns, until he inched between them and underneath your skirt. You were fighting back noises and expressions, yet in contrast he joined in enthusiastically on the conversation like there was nothing happening beneath the table.
“Johnny, they’re right there,” you whimpered when no one was watching. You were thankful that Mark and Jessica were so invested in one another, it decreased your chances of getting caught sneaking around with Johnny since they hardly paid full attention.
“Guess that means you’ll have to be quiet then,” he whispered without a care in the world. “Can you do that for me, baby?”
You could only give a casual, slight nod. If you spoke, you were at risk of letting out moans and that was the last thing you wanted.
Johnny purred, “Good girl.”
Fuck, that was hot. If it weren’t for your two friends sitting at the table with you, you would have moaned right then. All the titles and names Johnny called you made your skin feel hot and made your desire for him multiply. It felt like a test on your patience and you were failing.
In his attempt to act as though nothing was wrong, Johnny asked to no one in particular, “Any plans for the weekend?”
Jessica didn’t miss a beat. She announced excitedly, “Mark and I are going bowling. He sucks and wants me to teach him.”
“I do not suck!” Mark instantly protested. “I got a strike once!”
“Once, as in one time,” Jessica giggled.
Any other time, you would have leaped at any opportunity to tease Mark, but you couldn’t even focus on the rest of the conversation. Johnny’s fingers felt too good inside you, reaching impossible places with precise angles. You couldn’t lie, he did a magnificent job at pretending he was completely engaged in whatever conversation, but you could tell he had shifted most of his attention to you. Even without looking at you directly, it was almost like he could see your reaction and Johnny was determined to steer you right off of the edge.
Whenever a moan approached you, you bit your lip, hard. Or shoved a forkful of spaghetti into your mouth. Whatever you could do to prevent yourself from moaning. The brief glimpse of a smirk you saw on Johnny’s lips confirmed that he was enjoying this, but you couldn’t be mad. You were enjoying it too - especially considering this was probably the most you would get from him for a while, you could only be satisfied.
You were only snapped out of this trance when you heard your name called, snapping your head up in the direction of Johnny.
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Huh?” Oh how familiar this situation had felt.
“I said, do you have any plans for the weekend?” Johnny reiterated, looking at you so normally that even you started to believe he wasn’t fingering you right now.
Oh, did you. If Johnny insisted on not fucking you any time soon, then you were going to have a good ole time with your pal, your vibrator. You couldn’t exactly say that though, and even if you could you wouldn’t dare speak more than three words at once. Not when you were so close. So you opted for simply shaking your head.
“Perfect. With Jessica gone I’ll need someone to help me repaint the walls,” Johnny joked, yet you could see right through what he was saying.
Jessica grumbled, “Dad, no. I told you I’ll help you when I get back.”
You forced your voice up as front as you could, “I don’t mind. It’s not like I’m doing anything anyways and,” you fought the sound back into your throat before you continued, “-and it’s the least I could do after leeching off you guys.”
“You’re not a leech,” your best friend reassured. “But if you really want to help him then suit yourself.”
If only she knew you couldn’t care less about the walls, not when you were focused on a completely different type. You wanted Johnny to paint your walls, simple as that.
Conversation didn’t die, but neither did the feeling between your thighs. They were trembling as you approached your orgasm, and you could feel it creeping up on you. You were about to duck your head to hide the pleasured expressions on your face until you couldn’t feel it anymore.
You nearly whimpered, staring at Johnny with only shock. It wasn’t really surprising considering everything that had happened since that day, but you were disappointed. Johnny kept dropping you off before you got to your destination, and you were sick of his teasing and being unable to do anything about it.
“Sorry, princess,” Johnny murmured, but he didn’t look the part even slightly, with a grin playing on his lips. “I’ll make it all up to you tomorrow.”
You guessed you could wait one more day.
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730 days.
365 days.
2 weeks.
The countdown was done. The stalling and wait was over. The amount of days you had been waiting for this one specifically you had no clue, but none of that would matter to you anymore once you finally tested on your tongue the sweet taste of victory. You were ready.
You could feel nothing but nerves and exhilaration, but you liked it. You liked how you weren’t sure if you were breathing when you rang the doorbell, but you knew that you weren’t the moment Johnny opened the door. If you had a quarter for every time Johnny had left you breathless, you’d be rich. You couldn’t fathom how a man could look so attractive, and it wasn’t like he always put extra effort into it like you sometimes did. It was something raw.
Johnny smiled when he saw you. “You made it.”
“Of course,” you replied. You sounded relaxed, although you were anything but calm. The mere thought of the events bound to happen in the following moments had you overjoyed.
Johnny let you inside and shut the door. You didn’t get far down the hall before he pinned you back against the wall, the way he did the last time you had been in this scenario. But you knew the outcome would be different this time.
His stare was still hard and deep, but his grin never left. “Ready to paint some walls?”
Damn the walls. You weren’t even remotely concerned about anything that wasn’t on Johnny or in between your legs.
You held his gaze and smiled back as you joked, “Isn’t that your job?”
“I see you brought your jokes with you,” Johnny observed. Then his hand scooted underneath your skirt and squished your thigh. “And another pretty skirt.”
Melting into the warmth of his touch was your only option. You were so starved that you weren’t sure if the smallest touch was enough to get your gears in motion, or if your greed for more was insatiable and it would never be enough. Though it was certain that you wanted him, and concluding from the way Johnny was eyeing you like you were his prey, the feeling was mutual.
His hand crawled closer in between your thighs and the whole time you felt as though you were holding your breath. Johnny had a way of effortlessly making you defocus on anything that wasn’t your desire for him. You weren’t concerned about what was right or what was wrong. You weren’t concerned about the consequences. All you cared about was feeling his skin on yours and meeting him inside of the sheets.
“Just for you,” you murmured, somewhere on the verge of breathless. Johnny knew you weren’t lying or saying things just to make the moment. With your history, it was easy to believe you had picked it out especially for his taste.
The skirt was a personal favorite of Johnny’s. He had never stated it outright, but the way his eyes were constantly on you was more than enough confirmation. Of course you would use your speculations to your advantage - the moment had been dragged out enough and by now it was established that you were beyond impatient.
“Yeah?” He cocked his head. “Wanna show me what’s underneath?”
More than anything. You wanted to lift up your skirt right then and there. Instead, you opted for nodding your head, unable to come up with any words let alone a sentence. 
Johnny took no time to toss you up in his arms. He carried you into his bedroom and launched you onto his sheets, eyeing you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “I’m gonna have so much fun with you, princess,” he cooed.
For once, you had no smart reply - you just let him move on his own accord. You could feel the tension in the room soaring as he crawled above your body, silent and sly as he slithered between your thighs. Johnny could feel his mouth water as he pushed your skirt up, finally getting a full view of what was underneath. Your panties - pretty, lace, and blue (and drenched.)
He pushed them to the side. “Did you wear these for me, too?”
He honestly didn’t even have to ask. The two of you had been down this road before and it was simply a given that you dressed to impress him particularly. Keeping in mind his favorite color plus how much he fancied your wardrobe on you came naturally when you were this desperate.
You nodded again, then asked, “Do you like them?”
“Love them, baby. You look so pretty in blue,” Johnny murmured. His distracted fingers teased your folds and made your breath hitch. You were already wet, but his touch had you melting into a puddle on the mattress. “You ready?”
There was no hesitance in your voice as you whined, “God, yes.” The moment had already been dragged on too long and though you understood that Johnny would probably want to take his time with you, you needed things to pick up the pace, even if just a little.
“Good, because I wanna taste you.”
Johnny pushed your legs out a little more to give himself the room to roam between them. Then he started with pecks to your inner thigh, gentle and sweet and arousing. As if you weren’t aroused enough already. He admired the way your folds glistened with wetness - he knew that you most likely assumed he was taking his time out of being hell bent on teasing the life out of you, but that was only half of the truth. You were just so pretty that he wanted to savor the moment forever.
His tongue teased back and forth over your slit, almost tentatively as though he was only taste-testing you. When you needily bucked up your hips with a whimper, Johnny decided to quit his games and went in for the kill. He ate you out like there was no tomorrow, slow enough to pay attention to detail yet fast enough so that you weren’t left hanging. You bit your lip when you felt him on your flesh. It didn’t subdue your sounds completely, but enough to where Johnny could tell that they were being muffled.
He drew back, dissatisfied by your lack of volume. “Don’t bite your lip. No one’s hear with us so I wanna hear you.”
You were a little dazed when you nodded, present physically yet mentally beginning to tune out. His lips distracted you, coated with a glossy layer of your slick. Minutes ago it was an image that had only seemed to exist when you closed your eyes, imagining this moment as you had longed for its arrival. Now it had become a reality and you were beyond blissful. You wanted to freeze time and prolong the pleasure for as long as possible.  
The only thing capable of sucking you back out of your mind was the feeling of Johnny’s lips reattaching themselves to your skin. You couldn’t suppress the moan that fell from your mouth then even if you tried, caught off-guard as you were absorbed in your head. You could feel the smug grin dashing upon his lips but it was hard to care when he was practically sucking the life out of you. This was all you had ever wanted and needless to say Johnny didn’t disappoint not one bit. He was everything you imagined he’d be times two.
“F-feels so good,” you stammered. There was nothing to fake even if you wanted to, it genuinely felt good and he was serious competition for anyone that had ever gone down on you before. Your brain felt clouded and your skin felt hot and you liked it. Loved it.
Johnny would have been insufferable with the dirty talk if it wasn’t for the fact that his mouth was currently preoccupied between your thighs. You could already hear the words he’d probably say if he didn’t have a mouthful of pussy, “Yeah? You like that, princess?” Oh, and the never-ending pet names. You were usually fond of them, but he made them seem next level. Maybe it was his voice or some other factor, but you knew that you were attracted to it regardless. 
On his end, Johnny was absolutely wrecked on you. From the way he’s going down on you, with an eagerness that only a starved man could possess (and in a sense, he was one), it’s no secret, either. With how well he managed to hide his desire it got difficult for you to remember that he wanted you as much as you did him, and that was an unsafe amount.
You could feel your orgasm creeping up on you steadily. Your gut was practically screaming it at you, and god you couldn’t wait to cum on his tongue. Every day after the next wasn’t simply edging, but plain orgasm denial. Today was the day the torture was meant to stop.
“Close,” you moaned, as if it weren’t obvious enough, “gonna cum.”
He hummed a muffled, “Yeah?” Johnny knew that you wouldn’t last much longer. Aside from the sensation tearing through your stomach, all the outwardly noticeable clues were the tremble of your thighs and the sounds you made. Though much to your misfortune, the next would be of disappointment instead of delight as he moved away from you yet again.
“Sorry, baby,” he for once sounded decently apologetic. “But I want you to cum when I’m inside you.”
“Fuck me,” you pleaded, although you didn’t have to. Johnny was set on his goal the moment he brought you into his bedroom.
“Trust me, I am. Come here.”
Your movements showed no hesitation as you crawled onto his lap. His lips latched onto your neck and aroused a subtle, soft gasp of surprise from you. You made no attempt to fight his actions though, his hands attacking your skin simultaneously as he tugged at the remaining articles of clothing. As his fingers went for your bra, yours came for his own clothes, unbuttoning his top and slipping it down his shoulders.
Johnny chuckled with amusement at how eager you were. Nevermind himself; he was pinning you back down against the mattress roughly, lips attacking your flesh as his hand slinked beneath your skirt. It wrenched your panties down your thighs and found your clit seconds later, meanwhile his mouth was practically glued to your skin, sucking at your chest, neck, and collarbone. Your neck was most likely covered in hickeys and you knew that, but it felt too good to get concerned over. You figured Johnny would probably have wanted to see them anyways.
The sounds you made each time were cute, but only made Johnny yearn for more. He was going to be an animal the moment he got inside you, wild, untamed, and hunting.
Johnny drew back one final time, knowing what he wanted and that he needed it now. He rummaged throughout the drawers of his dresser swiftly.
You crooked your head to the side. “What are you doing?”
“Finding a condom. Practicing safe sex. Unless, you don’t want me to wear one. I’m clean.”
At that, you were chewing at your bottom lip. Your mind was filled to the brim with dirty scenarios you had thought of before, Johnny cumming inside and making you feel full. You knew the sex would be good either way, but damn it, your imagination had won today.
“I’m on the pill. You can go bareback, if you want,” you murmured, in your attempt to appear as though you hadn’t daydreamed about him fucking you raw.
And of course, he saw right through you. But he only grinned smugly and replied, “Say less. Get on your hands and knees.”
As expected, you took no time to comply. You crawled into position as soon as you heard the command, resting on your palms and knees with your back in an arch. Johnny grabbed a pillow and placed it underneath you, ensuring your comfort first. “You good, baby?”
You nodded. “All good.”
Johnny hummed. He positioned himself behind you not much longer, one hand clutching your waist and the other holding his dick as he then slid inside you. The two of you sighed out immediately in relief - you could feel his grip on you tighten the moment he entered you, and he heard the moan you chirped. There was no doubt that the little waiting game only made this moment better for the both of you, wanting each other in a way that was incomparable to any other feeling you’d ever experienced.
“Fuck, so b-big,” you stammered. You were as aroused as you could have possibly been, but Johnny still had a size you knew would leave you breathless once you saw it through more the print against his pants.
Easing in and out of you, Johnny cooed, “Dick too big for you, baby?” He wouldn’t pick up his pace until he was sure that you were entirely comfortable, and would give you the time to adjust if you needed it. He wanted you to enjoy this as much as he would.
You shook your head. “N-no, I can take it.”
Johnny sported a grin, proud. He whispered, “Good girl.”
He had dreamed of moments like this. Moments where it was just you and him, shutting the world out as you felt each other as closely as you possibly could. Moments where he was pressed deeply inside you, making you moan from every thrust. Moments where he would finally taste a slice of the heaven he had wanted for much longer than he could identify. Johnny had known you wanted him since before a couple of weeks ago. Before that evening in the kitchen, before he confronted you in the hallway, and way before your pool shenanigans. You had always been anything but subtle, and even if you weren’t particularly as bold as you were now, there was always a subconscious ache for him in you that he couldn’t help but sense. You didn’t know it, but you just couldn’t hide your lust.
“Such a good girl. Taking me so well, just like you said you would, princess,” he whispered. That was all it took to make you weak. You were too dazed to tell for sure, but you knew you had probably moaned a little at his praise.
You pushed any other thought back into the spider-y corner in the deep shadows at the back of your brain. Thinking about anything other than Johnny and how he felt between your legs was nearly impossible, and you were relaxed in a way that you hadn’t been in a while. He was just so easy to melt into, someone that made you forget about every other minor and major problem and consequence you’d eventfully have to face.
While he was pounding you from behind, Johnny brought his hand right back underneath your skirt and to your clit. You weren’t surprised that he hadn’t taken it off since he was always unsubtle about his favoritism towards it, and he thought you looked lovely like this.
You whimpered needily, “Johnny.” His fingers were fast at work on you, and in the most positive way possible, you weren’t sure if you could handle it.
“You feel so good, baby girl,” Johnny growled. If anything that only made you want it more, although you already him and he had you.
Sex with Johnny was already better than either of you had ever imagined. There had always been this picture in his head, but now that he could feel you taking every inch of him, he wanted to heighten the feeling and surpass the limits. It was the same for you — your fingers and vibrator could never compare to the feeling of having him inside your walls. He was driving you crazy and you were driving him even crazier.
Even if once was already know risky enough, you were already fantasizing about the next time. You were determined that you could do this “under wraps” thing with him if it meant that you could recreate this feeling again. It was too good to pass up, too good to only have once. There was something so intoxicating about how Johnny felt in you, and how he made you feel generally. Being underneath him alone was somehow one of the most pleasurable things you’d ever felt.
Keeping things under wraps, however, was going to be easier said than done. Not only did it mean keeping this a secret from your best friend, you couldn’t afford to have anyone else find out. But with how the bed creaked, and you were moaning his name loud enough for the neighbors to know what was happening in his bedroom, you were going to need more than a good excuse. You could only hope the walls were thick enough to subdue most of your sounds. The only sounds audible in the room were skin-slapping, moans and grunts, heavy breathing and you swore that you could hear your heartbeat in your brain. You wondered if Johnny could hear it too, or if the banging in your chest was something that only you would be able to pick up on.
The force of Johnny’s thrusts knocked your body forward, enough to cause your face to crash into a pillow. He went at a tolerable pace - not too slow, yet not too fast - and yet, your heartbeat was racing. Maybe it was all the action unfolding around you, or maybe it was simply the exhilaration making your blood feel as though it was zipping throughout your veins. Whatever it was, you knew that you liked it.
There was nothing to not like — Johnny fucked you too good for that. It hadn’t surprised you not even a bit, but Johnny was better than anyone who had ever been between your thighs. He was relentless. The pressure your body felt right then was enough to make you implode.
That was when you could feel it approaching again. It was louder, even more prominent, and you were desperate for Johnny to make you cum. Now that you had finally proved to him that you deserved it, you would snap if he edged you even once more. You were tired of being denied pleasure, and you knew Johnny was tired of denying himself the sweet victory.
“C-cumming, Johnny please,” you begged, plea half-muffled into the pillow. You weren’t above it, not when your orgasm was in arms reach. Johnny had tamed you, and whatever shame or face you had to save was discarded ages ago.
“Fuck, yeah? Hold on,” he muttered.
Johnny changed your positions, moving from behind you to above you, and you underneath him. You glanced at him with furrowed eyebrows, wondering what prompted the change.
As if he could read your mind, he said, “Wanna see your face when you cum, baby girl.”
That made your heart flutter.
It was always painfully obviously when you were far from it. As long as whoever was fucking you was doing a good job, there was never a need to question it, and Johnny was doing a phenomenal one. Never had anyone had you as weak as he did and it was dangerous. You were addicted; and now that you were hooked, it was possible for you to take more of him than was safe.
Yet you couldn’t be bothered. Not now, not when you were so, so close to having it all. You didn’t care what was too much, because it didn’t seem like there was even a such thing as enough. You were on the brink of an orgasm, thighs trembling yet again and your face twisting with pleasure. Johnny hissed at how you were clenching around him, tightening his hold on your hips. He wasn’t at all very much far behind you.
“Johnny,” you cried out.
He leaned low, peppering kisses to your neck. “I got you, baby. Cum for me,” he crooned, almost as breathless as you were.
Moans tumbled from your mouth as you did exactly that, wounding your nails in the bare flesh of his back. Johnny was set off only moments after that, either by your expressions or how you were relentlessly clenching around him, painting your walls with his cum as he groaned sexily into your ear. You couldn’t move, barely even breathe as you rested against your sheets. Your chest rose and fell quickly, but Johnny kissing your skin soothed you; it made everything feel okay.
“How do you feel, princess?” He cooed beside your ear.
You answered through a shallow breath, sporting a grin as you replied, “Full.”
Johnny murmured, satisfied, “Good.” He was showing the utmost appreciation to your body and skin, kissing you and holding you and treating you so gently. It was like being beside him alone made the whole world disappear. He was still inside you, softened up, but he wanted to wallow in this feeling a little longer.
“We’ll do this again, right?” You asked. Maybe it was a little desperate, but you needed to know.
“Of course, baby girl. You thought we did all that waiting just to go one time?”
No, you wanted to say. It wasn’t that you had, but Johnny was unpredictable whenever he wanted to be. You needed a little confirmation, just to be safe.
Instead, you opted for shaking your head. “Will you make me wait again?”
“No,” Johnny shook his head back, “not unless you decide to be a brat again and need to be punished. Think you can be a good girl for me, babe?”
You smiled softly, bobbing your head. The last thing you wanted was to be put through that torture ever again, and if all it took to never experience it again was submitting to Johnny, then it was say less.
You had that out of the way. Johnny was accessible to you, and you to him. There was one small conflict now, you remembered as his phone began to ring, with the caller ID being daughter.
There was still another game that you both had to play; hide and seek.
442 notes · View notes
fawnpires · 9 months
Note
hi! if the requests are open could you please do sex pollen with Simon Riley? if you don't write smut, that's fine. thank you for your time and I wanted to say that ur blog is rlly pretty<3
ʚ LUST FOR LIFE. ɞ — SIMON "GHOST" RILEY.
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꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ contents: sex pollen, car sex, porn with some plot, tit-fucking, size kink, manhandling, praise, unprotected sex, loads of dirty talk, missionary position, eye contact, cum play.
꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ notes: omg i've done a sex pollen fic with simon before and it was literally so fun to write for, i would def write for it again. (and tysm angel! you’re literally the sweetest, ty again for requesting. <3)
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The assigned mission had gone in several directions — one being the fact that a majority of your team had split up directly after being ambushed by the enemy with smoke grenades filled up with this sour yet saccharine-smelling powdery substance which had not yet been identified by the general public. For seconds, you had somehow ended up slumped in the cramped backseat of a hijacked pickup truck on the outskirts of a well-camouflaged forest right alongside your brooding, composed lieutenant who had unfortunately been impacted with that same substance a great number of your other team members had been affected with too — including yourself.
And you don't know how, but somehow you ended up with your military uniform torn off of you and discarded onto the flattened floor of the truck with only the white lace of your panties encompassing around the curves of your anatomy — laying on your back against the plush of the backseat's leather while your head rested against one of the locked, closed truck doors. Your skin was clammy, head overcrowded with incoherent clouds of thoughts while that swirling aroma of that substance lingered within your nostrils and never seemed to vanish away despite being impacted so many hours ago. Those doe eyes of yours were angled upwards, taking in the rare sight of your lieutenant's naked and brawny statuesque frame towering right above your more vulnerable figure.
"You're drivin' me fuckin' crazy, doll. Keep those pretty eyes on me now." he pants out between heavy breaths spilling past his parted lips, his body now slanted over you which caused his shadow to envelop you in its entirety.
Those tactical jeans of his were left to be undone and forgotten at his ankles alongside the cloth of his boxers while the softness of your bare breasts engulfed the pulsating, girthy length of his kept cock as it thrusted between the flesh. His hands and arms of exposure, now bulging of some veins and hardened muscles, kept a firm yet gentle grip at your breasts — kneading them in calloused palms enhanced of faded scars, some new and some fresh; most hard to recognize beneath the provided lighting of the truck's dimmed dome light. Aroused sighs and moans of contentment were drawn from the deep backs of your throat, flowing out in undetermined intervals. Your thighs were pushed and rubbing together as it creating some sort of friction and a distraction from the substance's strangely arousing side effects while you were basically getting off on the sight of his cock fucking right amid the valley of your breasts.
Your eyes never wanted to leave his, something about them was so entrancing in the moment. Each thrust at the flesh left you in a puddle of a needy mess, the blunt head of his cock peaking out between the tops of your breasts while his thrusts grew more desperate and sloppy to reach his initial high. Suppressed grunts were pronounced from past the darkened black fabric of his balaclava, the corners of his eyes twitching as he threw his head back; large hands continuing to maintain a hold on your breasts, tweaking your nipples while he fucked them with a ferocity that left him panting like a dog in heat. Slick began to drool past your panties, running down your inner thighs in a line of fluid while your jaw hung open to discharge those sounds of ecstasy. The atmosphere of the truck smelled of sex, the panes of the windows beginning to fog up in a hazy mist.
"Gonna cover these pretty lil' tits all full of my cum, lovie. I can't believe I've never given this pretty body a chance. " he gets out while a loud groan comes from him, the more he desperately moved his hips through the sensual simulation your breasts provided him — the more his climax got onto the verge of spilling out of him.
"Lieutenant, please..." your voice had the slightest hint of a whine to it, almost pleading him in a more high-pitched tone of voice.
"You sound so good f'me right now, sweet girl. Just hold on a little longer for me, baby. Almost there."
With that, he gives one last and particularly vigorous thrust between the mounds of your softened breasts; his hands traveling down to either sides at your waist, fingers depressing upon the skin as his head slanted a little more further back in pleasure with satisfied groans no longer being held in. His seed jetted out in fervent pulses onto the smooth stretch of your chest, adorning the skin in a sheet of pure and sticky fluid. As his head slanted forwards again back in regular position, his pupils appeared to be more dilated — giving him the look of some sort of rabid animal, seeking out for a way to quench his hungering lust. (In this case, using your body would be that designated method for appeasing that hunger - thanks to the substance's effects on the man.)
In a craving manner, you find Ghost briskly pulling up the lower edge of that skull balaclava he almost always sports on the physical features of his face; head lowering towards the supple flesh while his tongue eagerly laps at the liquid, brushing over either one of your nipples periodically — drawing one of those needy and pent-up whines from you. A hand is felt dragging down between your thighs, parting them from each other as his index and middle finger formed circular motions at your pantie-clad cunt, your body slightly shuddering at the contact towards your wet and sensitive area.
"God, you look even better with my cum all over your tits," Ghost chuckles lowly against your breasts, suckling and licking at them with his exposed lips. "Didn't know you were this desperate to be touched like this by a superior."
"Can't take it, Ghost, please. I need you inside me already."
"I know, sweetheart, I know. Just a little bit more, I promise. Acting like a needy lil' thing, aren't you?" he responses in a breathless vocal tone, his accent more accented with each gravelly word spoken.
His fingers slip around the waistband of your panties, the wet article of clothing worn around your curves before it was yanked down your legs and left to be abandoned with the rest of your uniform. Ghost lets out a deep grunt at the sight of your naked figure, his lips granting both of your breasts subtle little kisses before straightening himself back up and imposing right over you. He was moderately leaned over you, his hands adjusting your legs to rest on top his shoulders before drifting down to settle at both sides of your waist. His now solid cock rests at your lower abdomen, kisses being pressed into your right calf while his body slowly grinds against the perspired surface of your exterior skin.
The precise, kept movement of his raw hips had your head rolling back against the door of the vehicle — right in a state of an almost overwhelming, yet such raw ecstasy — in addition to more sweat trickling and trickling down onto the leather beneath where you laid at. His mouth stayed attached to your calf, advancing and pressing those gentle kisses of his onto the clammy limb, (Despite his rough, cold-blooded presence out of the field; he was the most gentle towards you, almost in resemblance to a lover.) Your teeth bit into the flesh of your lower lip, gnawing feebly at it while your cunt throbbed excessively in unrhythmic patterns. His teasings were going straight to your aching head as the aftermath of the substance, now well-acknowledged to be running through the course of your veins, only seemed to worsen without relief.
Fortunately, he took notice of your practically pleading exterior on display just for him; causing him to lean back a few inches from your body before steadying himself over you, eyes never faltering from yours as his cock angled right at the entrance of your sopping cunt as he slowly inched himself inside the warmth of your walls accompanied with a squelch audible throughout the vehicle. His free hand was left to press up against the fogged pane of nearest window, a prominent cast of his palm being left there. His other hand held at your hip, beads of sweat outlining at his cloth-wrapped forehead while it trickled down past the visible eye area of his balaclava — combining with that black, smeared eye-paint gracing around those dulled brown eyes. A distinct grunt came from him at the sensation of your cunt engulfing him, and a whimper of a reached relief sourced from the initial contact of his hips pressed against yours.
"There you go. Such a good girl, taking me in so well." the lieutenant cooes from above you, his voice hoarse and slightly strained while his hips sustained a pleasant rhythm.
"Mmm— fuck, Ghost... feels so good." you moan out, eyes nearly closing to fully indulge in the sensation.
"And your pussy feels like damn heaven, Jesus." his words were spoken through a grunt, his hand at the window smudging at the fog. "Keep those eyes on me, want you to look me in the eye — know who's fucking you, making you feel this good."
The smallest smirk is held at one corner of his lips at your words of praise, his hand at your hip using the thumb to gently stroke at the skin while his thrusts increased in speed. Shamelessly, soft moans and various noises of pleasure were being pulled out of you now as his each pump of his hips into you was shaped into the interiors of your cunt. Your nails dug into leather below you, legs trembling out of bliss on-top of his sturdy and muscled shoulders tensing from the vast mass of euphoric feelings the both of you were undergoing. With each passing thrust within you, his motions quickened up through you, the head of his cock kissing right at your cervix repeatedly without stop.
Arousal was the only thing, the only emotion that your body could be running on at this exact moment — your inner thighs stained with your slick, leaving a small pool of fluid under you; evidence to how good he really made you feel when fucking right into you. Resonates of skin-against-skin and more noises of sexual matter filled up the once silent truck, the windows nearly curtained and blocked off with fog sourcing from the both of your bodies continually pressing up against each other. His hips angled in different kinds of ways, just to aim his cock right against the spots that would cause your back to arch off the seat and your hips to slightly raise in the air. More sweat began to form at your skin, glistening underneath the dim lights.
Your legs were more spread apart, nevertheless still perched on his shoulders as the positioned of your body arched off the seat raised body gave him a better approach to pound into you. His sweat mixed in with yours, cock drilling into your pussy at an pace that could be almost considered violent by the looks of it. He had his hand pushing down a little more into your hip, his build tilted over your own. Moans of his title — of his military title — were being moaned out from you in a head full of rapture where you saw stars in your vision, which fueled that arousal just about leading to his climax once he heard that angelic tone of yours speaking his name.
"You fuck me so good, sir." you whimpered in a fragile voice, that built-up tension in your stomach almost at its high.
Those words of yours were almost enough to drive him over the edge, but his composure was held onto just for a little longer.
"That's right, lovie. I'm the only man who can fuck you like this, nobody else, yeah?" he pants out, the violent pace of his beginning to stutter just at the slightest. His composure was slipping off now, without a doubt. "Can feel you squeezing me — shit, — let go for me, angel, come on."
With his words basically giving you the permission, your body stiffens while a series of whimpers and moans are mainly heard from a clear volume. Your cunt clenches around his cock while it remains still up against your cervix as he gives into a climax the same time as you do, his near-animalistic groans merging with your much softer moans. Ghost gives a single, last thrust before hot waves of pleasure spill from him as he fills your cunt to the brim with the warmth of his seed. Heavy breaths of almost exhaustion come from him for a few moments longer before he slowly pulls out of you, your weakened body vaguely at the feeling of it. His eyes sweep down from your eyes, to the rise and fall of your breasts, to the perspective of his seed spilling out from the puffy lips of your cunt and onto the splattered material of the seats.
By now, the influence of the substance has sufficiently gone down considering the quantities of alleviation that you and Ghost had managed to release off of each other. (In the most intimate, non-expected way possible — and during a full-on mission.) He cautiously lowers his hand at your hip to dip between your soaking thighs, the heel of his palm rubbing at your raw, delicate flesh dripping of both of your sticky releases. Your mind finally goes conscious for the first time since both you and him had temporarily hid out in this truck; a faint flush coming to rise at your cheeks once the realization hits you — you fucked a superior, your literal lieutenant.
It’s not like the either of you were to blame, you think.
He then leans down to you, palm still rubbing at your folds as you shakily sigh out, a kiss being pressed into your forehead. It was abnormally sweet, especially coming from someone like him. But you weren’t complaining, — as long as he wasn’t pissed about fucking a subordinate, such as yourself, or had any regrets about doing any of this with you; drug’s influence or not. You can’t help but allow your face to flush lightly at the kiss, a small blush blossoming around your cheeks. He then wholly lowers back the edge of his pushed-up balaclava, his full face now concealed like always.
“You regret any of this?” you asked quietly, not out shame or sadness, but a genuine curiosity to hear from his side. Your breaths were still coming out shaky from his rubbing palm.
It’s dead silence coming from him, before he then speaks up with a slight unpredicted chuckle.
“Regret this?” Ghost repeats back to you, his head cocked to the side as his eyes find yours once more. He looks at you as if you told some kind of joke to him — or just said something really stupid. “No way in hell would I regret doing something like this with a girl that has your looks, or your sweetness, sweetheart.”
“Good, but you better not be saying that because of the stuff we got hit with.” your said more teasingly.
“Nah. I only speak truth from my cold, dead heart, love.” his deep voice responds back to you, the corners of his black-smudged eyes crinkled in an indication of a grin.
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"Defying the Default"- Skin Tones and the Presence of Black Characters
Okay, this one is going to be half lesson and half a thought experiment- it may get a bit frustrating, as conversations like this often do- but remember, discomfort is not always a bad thing! So I ask that you walk with me for this one.
It’s also interesting, because I’m going to direct this towards everyone (readers included!), but specifically towards my fanfic writers of media with no visual medium, as I’ve noticed this pattern there, and it makes up a good amount of creators on this site. Okay? Okay.
Behold! Many shades of brown!
I had to wade through a lot of colorism for this, and even this link is subtly racist in its introduction- the idea that brown is ‘unexciting’ 🙄.
Anyway, you know where I’m going with this:
"Chocolate and Coffee"
Even the link above pulled this! Writers who use this... they’re not ‘wrong’ per se but… often uninspired. It feels... Lazy. When you can tell an author has put no thought into the brown of choice, it makes Black readers feel like you believe these are the only shades of brown- that that’s all we look like. Even chocolate is more diverse (white, milk, dark, marbled, cookies and cream?) Coffee can come in numerous shades as well (light, medium, dark roast? Type of bean?)
My first direction to help with this: make it a point to know what shade that character is (whether canonically, or if you're the original creator, look at a reference and write it down) and find a name! Be consistent! Find similar browns to one another. If the canon Black character's skin color is done poorly, find something similar and use that! (I'll get more into this in the next lesson!)
Our skin colors may modify as we age, it changes over the seasons/presence in the sun, and some people even have vitiligo! But we're not gonna be “dark roast coffee” one morning and “light milk chocolate” suddenly. We're not chameleons lmao.
And you know what? That shade you choose might very well be 'coffee'! But it's not going to be because you didn't look and assumed we're all some random brown! That’s the intent showing! If we can find endless ways to describe the beauty of white/pale skin, we absolutely can for brown! Be willing to unpack why you may not believe brown to be capable of beauty, and work through unlearning that- it will show in your writing! One way is by pausing with yourself, and recognizing when you had a biased thought. Even by this, you’re learning!
Here’s where I want us to get into the thought experiment:
I want you to think about the description of characters in stories (as a whole). Challenge yourself- in the fics and stories you read, how often is anyone blatantly labeled 'White'? Read a story or fic; how long can you imagine them as not-White before it's ever clarified? Because not even 'pale' automatically implies a White person!
You know how I’ve mentioned before that 'Black people are not a monolith'? I can find you at least some examples of Black people fitting some of the common descriptions of white characters.
"Brunette with brown eyes"
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(Fun fact: I actually learned back in my Masters program that genetically no one has ‘black’ hair- our eyes are processing it as black, but it’s really just dark brown due to eumelanin. Regardless, if you stand us in the direct sunlight, you will see that our hair is usually just dark brown!)
"Red hair with pale skin"
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“‘tanned’ skin with hazel/green eyes”
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“blond hair" (period!)
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Now, I’m not saying that blond haired Black people or Black folk with albinism are overly representative of my people. What I AM saying is that it needs to not be taken for granted that a reader is automatically assuming a character is White in your piece of fiction- I can assume your character looks like anything if it's not stated! Especially if the OG source is a book or a podcast! We’re just used to assigning these features- and characters- as white until ‘proven not’! The default!
I am guilty of this too! Even still, I reread many of my works and go ‘ah, I didn’t clarify.’ And I have to work on doing better at it. This is having intent for your Black characters, but really, it’s having intent for all of them!
(This doesn't mean going “the Black man said,” the way sometimes people say “the Chinese said” (which…. Tbh we should all stop doing that anyway, it's weird and racist))
My Next Challenge:
Some people may disagree, but- Ahem:
Say BLACK!
Breathe lmao! Take the time to recognize that it's OKAY to introduce a character as Black, to say Black, it's fine! Obviously be sensitive about it, don't shove it in there to “win your diversity points”, but like… People are Black. It's not a bad word. What matters is the context in which you used it!
You don't even have to say it every single time. Really just the first, introductory sentence will do. For example:
“[Character A], a bright, young, Black girl with knotless braids to her mid back, glittering hair clips matching her bright green t-shirt, and a brilliant smile that shined against her bistre skin.”
I recognize that some might argue that by saying “bistre”, you don't need to say Black. But 1) you don't have to be Black to be brown or dark skinned, and 2) There's a social stigma behind even saying Black- of discussing race in general, because it leads to discomfort. Race (as a sociological construct) exists. When we say nothing about it, allowing Whiteness to be the default, we're still emphasizing race, however silently! If you're already doing it... Why not mention it? 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️
(here's a good clip of Ijeoma Oluo discussing the difficulty of discussing race; while I highly recommend the whole thing, the relevant clip is 4:25-5:39)
Maybe they're in the Black student organization in a lead position, maybe they're in a Black main cast of a play- it's okay to have those things in the story to help develop the idea that your Black character is actively Black! Just do your research to make sure you’re not leaning into stereotypes!
“There’s no races in my fantasy/future world!”
That’s fair! But I want to give you an example of how people will still project these identities onto your characters anyway:
No one has an explicitly stated 'race' in Avatar: The Last Airbender (afaik); they’re all divided by element culture. YET, many people were offended that a mixed-Korean actress was cast in her role in the live action- they ‘just didn’t see it’, because subconsciously they'd imagined her ‘face claims’ as WHITE, despite it never once being mentioned in the canon! (there’s also a firm sexualization and east Asian fetishization argument to be made about it, but that’s not within the scope of this particular conversation.)
Point is, if you are including humanoid characters in your fantasy stories, fine. You don't need to say ‘Black’ outright. But, that just means that you’re going to have to be even more detailed in your description. Because if I were watching a TV show and a Black actor shows up as an elf… I know what features I’m seeing! Entire protests have occurred over the casting of Black actors in a role ‘meant for a white person’; so... everyone sees it!
Conclusion
This is another reason why intention in character design and writing is important! Context clues and socialization help me understand who your character is. If it works like this for white characters, it can work like that for everyone else! You just have to know enough about me to write it in (and that's where the social and societal bias lie, because how much do you really know about me?)
A way to better understand this is reading books by Black authors (for fantasy, I would highly recommend Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko and Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi) as well as Black literary classics! Finding and reading Black fic authors in fandoms with Black characters! By learning how we describe ourselves and our skin colors, you’ll learn and practice how to appropriately describe us!
Now I can't make you do any of this! But I do want you all- writers especially- to start noticing our bias, how we may default to the experience of whiteness- and how that affects the way we write. When we have Black characters, and really any character of color, we need to start paying attention to how often their features, culture, and activities are emphasized, even for what we may consider to be 'background' details. That’s how we normalize creation and understanding, and become better at writing!
It’s just something to practice; remember, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
In addition, if you are interested in a simple read into why approaching race is so uncomfortable as a whole, I've attached Robin DiAngelo's book here! Thank you to the PDF guru @toiletpotato for the link!
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c0llisiion · 2 months
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ATTENTION — K.TH
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★Pairing: kim Taehyung + f!reader
★Genre: smut
★: exes , kinda toxic ig , bigdickdom!tae , choking, slight exhibitionism , reader is lowkey bipolar , angry sex/make up sex (they just went through a breakup) , mirror sex , oral, slapping, creampie , unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!) name calling, degradation, kth is kinda mean — lmk if i missed any! ^^
★W/C: 2,435
A/N: HIIIIIIII!!!!!! so yes another kth fic :’) its been a while so that’s justified! This is actually one of my first fics i ever wrote nd i found it rotting in my notes so i decided to tweak it up and post :3 (the og was shit.) will finally be able to post more often <3 anyways enjoy! Hope you like itttt
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
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Loud music was blasting throughout the crowded club. It was a huge party, hosted by one of your closest friend. There were people dancing, drinking, and giving men lap dances. It was a wild one!
You were dancing hard with your girlfriends. Those few shots you took finally hit you. 
You were approached by your friend, while having the time of your life "Hey, bae, there is someone you might like to see.." You stopped and focused on what she was saying "Who?" You inquired. She pointed out a man sitting in one of the booths. He was talking to another familiar man and didn't seem to notice you. You stood there, staring at the man in a suit with a few of his buttons undone. You were, honestly, in disbelief. This day is truly one for the history books.
"Taehyung..." You stood there wide-eyed. "Hell yeah, girly, I invited him for you and you only," she said with a smug smirk. "Go on, bae, get your tiger!" She nudged. "I-i-" you stammered. "come onnn ,, stop being a fucking pussy and go talk to him!!" She started shoving you in his direction. You stayed put, not letting her push you more. "Dude, for god's sake! It's going to be so awkward!" You turned around to face your clearly drunk friend. "Bitch, you were the one that was venting to me about how you wanted to see him almost every day since you broke up!" She countered. What she said was right. You were venting to her every day, nonstop, from the day you broke it off with him. "I-I had confidence that time..! But I don't think i will be able to show that same confidence .." Your friend narrowed her eyes at you. "PUSSY!" She shouted in your face. You both giggled it off before she spoke up. "Well if you are not comfortable yet, then it's fine. I heard that he already has a new girlfrien-" "what?" Your ears perked up. "Wdym what? Did you not hear? Apparently he is fucking that hot chick , aeri from back then; she had approached him two days after you broke up, and they have been dating ever since." You look back at the man clad in a blue suit with a white button up underneath before letting out an angry scoff, "What a bastard..." 
"Its time to get that bastard back into your life," your friend winked at you. 
"Heeeyyyy, Taehyung! How is the party going for you?" Your friend approached him, stumbling slightly. "It's going well! I'm having so much fun!" Taehyung said it with excitement. "Ouu, I'm glad to hear! Ykw, do you want to join us on the dance floor?" Your friend batted her eyelashes at him, baiting him into joining her. "haha imma pass!"  " Cooommeee oooonnnn, it’s going to be fun, Taehyung" she begged for him to join her, and he eventually did after much persuasion. He joined the dance floor and was quickly hoarded by hot girls who definitely wanted to get laid by him. After a moment, his eyes landed on someone he knew. It was you. You were with another man, kissing, hands around his neck, and swaying your hips in a very sultry way. You broke off the kiss and glanced to your side. He was standing there. A woman was holding his face in her hands, trying to get him out of his trance. You could feel the rage that was radiating off of him. You smirked and dragged your mister to the bar. You let him buy you a few drinks before eventually letting him go.
You were drinking your third shot of tequila when he approached you. "It's funny to see you here." You turned around to see the tall figure of Taehyung looking down at you. You almost choked on the alcohol. "It's my best friend's birthday; of course I will be here, dumbass!" You tapped the glass on the counter, signaling for the bartender to pour you another. Taehyung walked over to the empty seat next to you. "So what's up?" You inquired while waiting. "Oh, nothing much; Daddy has been pressuring me to start staying stable." You snorted. " 'daddy' PFFFTTT" . Taehyung looked at you blankly. The bartender poured you a glass, and before you could down it all, Taehyung snatched the shot glass, drinking every last bit, and placed it on the counter. "Yeah 'daddy'” "Omg, you are literally so insufferable." You said it dramatically. "Idek how that aeri bitch is even with you," Taehyung shot up. "What aeri?" He said plainly like he had no idea what you were talking about. You looked at him in shock. "You are dating aeri right?" You asked for reassurance. He scoffed it off. " pff- you really think i would date a hoe like aeri? Never in a million years." He rolled his eyes and chuckled. " B-but .. f/n said you guys are fucking around..??" "That is true, though," your face drowned. "Like, we only hooked up once, and you know what? She is not the person she says she is. One of the worst fuckings I have ever done," you giggled. "Who was your best?" You asked him randomly. "You." Your cheeks turned pink almost immediately. You could feel him looking at you. Eyeing your entire body. "You look good today," he complimented you. "Don't I always look good?" You joked. He chuckled, looking down. You both were staring at each other with love and lust. "I miss you" had accidentally slipped your mouth. Curse you for drinking too much! You quickly covered your mouth in disbelief at what just came out. "What?" He looked at you. "Ah ah nothing, nevermind!!" You brushed it off as quickly as you could. He looked at you with his eyebrow quirked up. "Aha i think i gotta go... f/n is calling me haha". There was a slight stutter in your speech. You got up, and before you could leave the bar, he grabbed you by your wrist, turned you around, and kissed you. You were shocked. Your hands were on his chest while he kissed you with passion. "I missed you too, baby.." The bomb dropped. Your mind went blank. "But tae.." "Please, baby, take me back. I promise to change this time. I just really need you. I don't want anyone else." You looked at him with guilt. But this was the same statement he would always give. 'i will change’ 'I will do better' 'take me back'. You were unsure of what to feel. All these months, you missed him, and now? 
"Tae you know we can't. You always say this but you never change. Just cut the act off." He let go of your waist. "I miss you, baby. I really do. And im sorry for all-" "shush. I don't want to hear another apology. You are never sorry." As much as you love and miss Taehyung. His personality is the biggest turn off. He had broken your trust multiple times, and whenever you would break up, he would come up with the same shit, and you were there to accept his lame apologies. But not this time. You took some time to think about it, and you came to the conclusion that it was best for you not to take him back. 
"Have a goodnight." You said it sternly before turning away. "You are really going to leave me, huh?" Taehyung started following you. "I left you months ago, Taehyung." His gaze went from soft to the familiar, mean one. "You said you missed me!" He pulled you by your arm, turning you back around to face him. "It's for the better! For both of us! You know we are never going to work out!" You countered. "Oh yeah, for the 'better' , I know you will come right back to me. Quit acting, y/n. As soon as my dick enters your desperate cunt, you will be with me once again like the slut you are." His hands went around your waist once again. Mere inches separate you both. Whatever he said was true. You break up. Meet up a few weeks or days later. Fuck, and then back together. The same cycle over and over again. You couldn't get enough of him. “Let’s not play fool again.” He said in a manipulative tone. You were resisting his manipulation, but you gave in. Your lips smashed into his aggressively. He chuckled at your instinct. "Yeah, that's what I fucking thought." He said it in between the kiss.
He rushed you into the club washroom and locked the door. There was absolute rage radiating off of you guys. Kissing harshly and not letting each other go. He made you sit on the counter and grabbed you by your jaw, breaking the intense kiss. Your lips were already swollen. "How many dicks have been in this cunt?" He said,tauntingly. You looked at him with your drunken eyes. "I will make sure no one gets this. It's mine. Got it?" You nodded. He let go of your jaw and dropped to his knees. He spread your legs open and started touching your wet pussy. His fingers circled your clothed entrance. A sticky mixture of your arousal coated his fingertips. "Always wet for me. Goodgirl." he grabbed you by your waist before smashing his face into your heat and started eating you out with your lace panties on. The pleasure was too much. You threw your head back and let out a pornographic moan. He was so good at eating you out to the point that it's enough to come undone.
You tugged on his black locks. Eyes swelling up with tears and drool already dripping down from the sides of your mouth. He was lapping at your cunt like a starved man. “So good.. so fucking good…” he nudged his face closer into your sex. Breathing in your arousal. Your thighs clamped around his head, and let out a choked-out moan as he bit down on your poor clit. “T-tae..! ‘S too much!!” Taehyung found pleasure in your pleas and cries. He pulled away and stared up at you. His chin glistened with his spit and your juices, running down his neck. 
He got up and was quick to capture your lips in his mouth. His tongue swirled around the inside of your mouth, and you could taste yourself. Large hands pushed your dress further up your body; a loud snap was heard as he ripped your thin panties. You grab onto his shoulders as you feel his long, cold fingers rubbing your throbbing clit. You gasped for air as he flicked your nub. Your hands roamed all over his body, helping him take off his Celine suit jacket. Your hands went lower before you stopped at his belt buckle. “Put it in already… please … “ you mumbled into the kiss. Taehyung let out a dark chuckle; his lips traveled down your neck. You felt something prod into your sopping hole. His large tip slipped through your folds easily. You gasp as he pushes himself further into you. His hands tightly held onto your hips as he eased his way into your gummy walls. He hunched over after he fully pushed himself into you. Your cunny clenched around his big length as he started thrusting. Heavy breaths getting louder with each increase in pace. “Gon’ fuck you so good..the entire club will hear us.”
 
-fwap! Fwap! fwap!- loud sounds of your ass slapping against his hips echoed through the restroom. Taehyung had you facing the mirror. A hand wrapped tightly around your hair, pulling your head back. “See how well you take my cock..! Haah- so fucking good. Pussy sucking me in so good.” He whispered in your ear before biting it.  “Ngh- fuck Taehyung feels so g-good…!” You held onto the edge of the counter for dear life as Taehyung pounded into you from behind. Your makeup ran down your face as his thrusts had you tearing up and seeing stars. “Mmm.. haa-“ slap. “Keep your eyes on the mirror while I fuck you. Understand?” You nodded at his words. Your eyes were struggling to stay open, and your head felt heavy. “Words, doll.” He grabbed your jaws and brought his face closer to yours, making you look at him as he continued giving you harsh thrusts. Your body jerking forward at each. The hand on your clit pinching the sensitive nub “ngh- fuck! I u-understand…” a devilish smirk formed on his perfect face. He was fucking you into tomorrow. His long, thick dick abused your soft plush walls over and over again. Red angry tip bruising your cervix. Your cream coated his entire length, and your arousal ran down his balls and your thighs. “Gonna c-cum.. tae- gon’-“ His fingers worked on your clit quickly. Tugging, pinching, and drawing rough circles all to help you reach your high. “Cum all over me.. doll.” And with that, you gushed around his length. “Fuck!!” Spurts of your cum spilled from the sides of your abused hole. Taehyung continued fucking you through your orgasm. “Do you want my cum inside you- haaah… fuck doll squeezing me so good..!” He got cut off as you spasmed around him. You nod weakly at his words. Picking your head up to look at him through the mirror, He brought his face closer to your ears. “Say it. Say you want my cum in you.” He growled in your ears. Your eyes filled up with tears. “I wan’ it…” “Want what? I want to hear you say it.” You bite down on your lip as you feel his fingers draw rough circles on your overstimulated clit again.  “ i wan’ -ngh- i want your cum.. Taehyung. i wan’ your cum in me… please.” Your voice was feeble. Taehyung groaned in satisfaction. “Goodgirl. I like it when you beg.” His hips quickly gained their pace and had you once again feeling full. You let out a choked out scream as you felt Taehyung fill you up. Taehyung moaned loudly as his balls drained all the cum into your plush walls. He dropped his head in between your neck and shoulders as he slowly came down from his high. Leaving soft, wet kisses on the spot. 
He lifted his head up and looked at you before smiling. His hands caressed your red ass. He pulled out, and a stream of yours and his mixed arousal dripped down your thighs. “You're gonna stay with me forever.”
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A/N: thank you for reading! I will be writing inboxes so make sure to send in :3 🎀
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