#did Jean say every night too?

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

random percy headcanons:

wants to be the photographer friend SO bad and he technically is but like 70% of the pics come out blurry or weird bc there was a monster attack in the middle of them. his instagram is truly so chaotic looking.

literally always has seashells on him someone will ask him for a pencil or spare change and he has to empty all his pockets of shells to find it. drops his backpack and a bunch of shells fall out. kicks his shoes off and sand and shells fly out and his mortal friends are like percy What the Fuck

his eyes glow underwater!! bioluminescent king. no one told him though and he didn't find out until he joined his school's swim team and terrified everyone (he managed to convince them his contacts were having a weird reaction to chlorine lmao)

he really likes art!! he doesn't just pretend to for rachel's sake he genuinely enjoys painting with her. he likes splatter paint, collages and pop art styles the best. one day after splitting some edibles they realized percy could manipulate water colors and went CRAZY with it

will ask to be excused during class and comes back like an hour later with scorch marks all over his face bleeding from one of his ears covered in dust missing three fingernails rips in his jeans and a fat lip and the teacher is like percy what the actual hell were you doing in the bathroom all this time and he's just like uhhhhhh I have ibs

the brand from camp jupiter did unfortunately (for sally) Unlock something in him lmfao he keeps getting shitty little tattoos. usually stick-n-poke but someone's friends cousin's girlfriend's brother has a gun that gets brought to parties every now and then. most of them are sloppy but you can tell what they are HOWEVER he has one that was supposed to be a seal that came out looking like one of those shitty ms paint crying memes. annabeth laughed at him for ten minutes straight when she saw it.

he wanted to dye his hair blue but he was too chicken to bleach his entire head so he just did the tips. his hair is curly though so it looks absolutely ridiculous but he loves it

percy and annabeth get a crusty little yappy white dog in college and he carries it around like a baby lmao

back to his chaotic instagram, he's got so many pics of him like, relaxing at the bottom of the mariana trench or hugging a giant squid or riding on a whale shark and his mortal friends all think he's just really good at photoshop and this is a very specific bit he decided to commit to. they're always like lol percy where do you even FIND these pictures are you subscribed to like scientific journals for the laughs? but no he just took them all on his shell phone

has an ongoing prank war with annabeth's little brothers bobby and matthew but like it's Unhinged. they're playing 5D chess and she has no idea whats going on

weird tshirts!!! he loves them! like

shit like this or those 'women want me fish fear me' shirts, anything with a funny or incomprehensible slogan is going in his closet right along with his band tees lmfao

bought estelle a panda pillow pet when she was born 🥺

can NOT bring himself to eat seafood no matter how many times poseidon has told him its fine. he's like NO these are my FRIENDS JONATHAN WAS TELLING ME ABOUT HIS GRANDDAUGHTERS WEDDING LITERALLY YESTERDAY WHY IS HE ON A PLATTER DAD. they had to give up and just start eating normal land food at the palace every time he comes to visit lmfao

gets into horsegirl antics with hazel she NEEDS to know everything the horses have to say. they spend hours gossiping in the stables.

movie nights in the poseidon cabin were 10000% a thing and when he was missing annabeth and thalia and grover (and a few others) would still sleep in there every now and then and talk about how much they miss him :(

percy and beckendorf had the worlds most elaborate handshake

he DOES impulse buy stuff just because they're ocean-themed. stuffed animals, home decor, school supplies, clothes, you name it he bought it if theres like a fish on it

has more scars from crashing off his skateboard than he does from monster attacks

grover is somehow the only person who's ever noticed percy is severely claustrophobic

has a deep passion for adele. I can't explain this one I just feel and know it to be true.

he and annabeth both proposed to each other at the same time and they were SO mad about it they kept yelling over each other's speeches lmao

he can SING but he doesn't know it. sally keeps trying to record him singing to himself but something always happens to the camera and she loses the evidence

called chiron a brony one time and mr d thought it was so funny he was nice to percy for an entire week

the camp keeps trying to convince him to teach sword fighting lessons to the younger kids but he can NOT bring himself to swing a sword at a 9 year old so he keeps getting injured

has the most complicated iced coffee order in the world his go-to local coffee shop finally just put the damn drink on the menu and named it after him

he IS the quiet kid in the back of your math class that always has his hood up to try and hide his headphones and eats increasingly elaborate meals out of his backpack when the teacher isn't looking. one time someone caught him with a rotisserie chicken in the middle of a geometry final.

he argued that he DID have enough to share with the class

currently obsessed with the image of him knocking back a container of sea salt as if it was a shot and his mortal friends being like hey! what the actual fuck! and he's just like uhhhhh anemia kills!

its his birthday<3

#percy jackson #pjo #hoo #toa #percabeth #molly mumbles

[bloompompom]

˗ˏˋ guilty pleasures ˎˊ˗

☆ content: eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, reader cheats on her loser boyfriend, dirty talk, praise, pet names, masturbation, pussy job, just filth, written very fast my apologies, mentions of alcohol, explicit language, explicit sexual content, reader discretion advised 18+ ☆ word count: ~4.2k ☆ a/n: just a warm-up that got out of hand

Your boyfriend sucks. That isn’t an opinion, either. It’s a fact. The sky is blue; what goes up will always come back down; your boyfriend is and will forever be a jackass. 

At least, according to your friends, Eren in particular. Sometimes according to you, too—let’s not leave that part out, it’s important.

Countless times, your boyfriend had driven you to wit’s end and back because yes, you always took him back. You aren’t the type to leave a kicked puppy out in the rain or a groveling man lying on your doorstep. He’d come crawling back, looking all lovesick and apologetic, and you’re ashamed to admit it hasn’t failed him yet. 

Listen, Eren is just your friend. He doesn’t know the ins and outs of your relationship any more than the next guy. What he knows for sure is that your boyfriend generally sucks as a human being, and he knows you know it, too. 

And it’s about time he does something about it. 

Tonight’s as good a night as ever to make a move. Eren’s roommate, Armin, insists on hosting a game night every other week-ish to ‘get the gang together,’ as he likes to say. But game nights are hard. No one likes to learn rules. So game nights soon devolved into movie nights, which turned into drinking nights after no one could agree on a movie.

That’s the plan for this evening: drinking the beer Jean brought along with a few leftover seltzers from the last time they got together, and spending some time with you. Alone.

You walked into the apartment huffing and puffing, pissed over whatever your boyfriend did or didn’t do. You’ve spent most of the night wallowing in the displeasure, trying to hide it, but it’s not working; Eren can tell you’re furiously texting Sasha every little detail despite sitting across from one another.

If you were to ask any of your friends, they’d say they previously believed you and Eren would date. You had that energy about you—still do, frankly. But then you met your boyfriend and you’ve been seeing each other ever since. On and off, of course.

Eren dated other people, too. And sure, he liked them, but that’s all. Finding happiness with something (or someone) is difficult when he constantly sees the greener grass on the other side.

He used to believe it was a timing thing, the reason you never hooked up. It made sense back then. But now, Eren knows it’s not a timing thing because he’s single and you can dump your boyfriend any time you want—if that’s what you want. 

Eren can pry. He can be forthright and ask what you’re texting Sasha about. But that’d get him nowhere; you’d undoubtedly reply, ‘Girl stuff,’ and let the subject die there. 

He noticed you don’t talk about your boyfriend problems when he’s around. Not that he expects you to. He would have written it off by now if he hadn’t heard you confiding in Armin about it. Jean and Connie, too. How frustrating it is that you never tell the one genuinely curious person. The one who wants to know and wants to show you how much better things could be, with him. 

So Eren does just that. He catches you at the right moment, once it’s just the two of you. Armin was in bed and Sasha already left, taking Jean and Connie with her. The only guests remaining are you and Mikasa—she’s been sitting heavy-eyed on the couch for the last twenty minutes and would probably be out cold in the next ten. 

Then there’s you, all squirmy beside him. 

“Are you cold?” Eren asks. He knows you’re not, but he also knows you’d never answer the more direct ‘Are you okay?’

“I’m fine,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, “I’m just—”

“Having a long night?” Eren guesses.

You merely sigh, but it’s weighty enough that it sounds like you’ve been holding it in for a while, like you must’ve needed it. 

“That’s one way of putting it.”

It’s vague, but you still feel you said too much.

You fiddle with your fingers, hands resting in your lap. You focus on that rather than the fact that you can no longer bring yourself to meet Eren’s eyes; it’s too much, it makes your insides burn uncomfortably hot.

You can’t deny how Eren makes you feel. Even more, you can’t deny that you came over tonight with him on your mind—the sort of thoughts you shouldn’t have while tangled up with another guy. 

“Is there anything I can do,” Eren slides closer to you, “to make your night better?”

Yes, you think. Yes, yes, yes.

You shake your head, gaze fixed on his leg pressing against yours. 

“It’s not your problem to fix,” you try to assure, but it lacks any sureness. Instead, it’s demure and… inviting? You almost made it sound like a dare. 

“That doesn’t mean I can’t try,” Eren says, always up for a challenge, especially if you’re the prize at the end. 

You’re better than this, you tell yourself. You’re above this. 

At the same time, you can’t help but think: what would your boyfriend do if the roles were reversed? You’ve argued about his fidelity before—hell, you argued about it hours ago—and you have no more clarity than you did from the start. 

Maybe you haven’t been perfect, either. Maybe there were times you should’ve told Eren to cut out the flirting and even times you shouldn’t have reciprocated it. You thought it was harmless then, that you’d never end up exactly where you are now. You also never imagined how invigorating, how right, it would feel. 

Eren places his large hand on your thigh, tentatively at first, light despite the guilt weighing down on you. When you don’t stop him, he becomes confident. He slides his hand higher, squeezes you gently. It’s chaste, something that could still pass as friendly if not for the way it made you weak.

I am absolutely not above this.

That’s how you ended up in his bedroom. Eren whispered for Mikasa and when she didn’t respond, he took it as the all-clear—that no one would know if you decided to head somewhere more private. Eren snuck you down the hall, shut the door behind you, and had you to himself, for the first time. 

Your heart thrums in your ears. It’s adrenaline, anticipation, a rush you never want to end. You hardly hear him when he asks, “How can I make your night better?” He nears you in a step. “What would you like me to do?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” you murmur. He wants to hear you say it: that you want him. You want his mouth on yours, maybe on your neck, his hands on your chest, smoothing down your hips and between your legs. You don’t give him the satisfaction of it. 

You lean into Eren without a word. He moves with you, meeting you halfway. You lead, he follows. You’re the one in the relationship, not him. 

You tilt your chin high to meet him. He catches it between his fingers, gently guiding you to him. Your noses brush; your lips don’t, but you’re so, so close. Close enough for your lashes to flutter softly against his cheek, for you to feel every one of his hot breaths as they break over your lips. It’s intoxicating. It’s not enough. But you can’t make yourself seal the fateful gap between you. 

“I can’t,” you regretfully stammer. It physically hurts to say the words. You wound the devil sitting atop your shoulder.

Eren doesn’t say anything, only pulls away from you. You don’t feel in control of your hand when it snatches a fistful of his shirt. You keep him there, still as close as before, eyes flitting between his pupils, big and blown, and his lips. He remains frozen, silent. He lets you decide where this would or wouldn’t go. 

“I don’t—fuck, I don’t know what do to,” you bemoan. Your head is a spinny, screwed-up mess. Screwed up from forbidden fantasies and raging hormones and the pool of warmth spreading in the depths of your stomach—all from him. 

“What do you want to do?” Eren asks in a low voice. 

It’s coaxing, cloying, but it’s needful at the same time. It’s a voice you’ve never heard from him, yet it’s familiar. It’s reminiscent of the same need burning inside you, so hot you think it might create a hole, one perhaps only he can fill.

You lick your bottom lip only to find your mouth has gone dry. 

Eren nudges the tip of his nose against yours. “I can tell you what I want to do, if that would help.”

He nuzzles lower, beneath your jawline. He doesn’t kiss you there—no, he wouldn’t do that. What he does is worse. It’s teasing. His breath fans over your ear and sends a shudder down your spine. He needs you not only to hear but to feel every word, every dirty thing he has imagined doing with you.

“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he breathes against the side of your face, warming you from the inside out. He clasps his hand over yours, then slips it between your legs. “And I want to watch.”

Eren touches your hand, encouraging you to rub. You feel the heat of your cunt through your clothes, like there’s a fire in your belly. You finally let its flames engulf you and god, burning never felt so damn good. 

You’re dizzy, you’re flustered—how could he possibly say that with such calmness? More than anything, you’re dumb to everything except the boy in front of you. 

“Can you do that for me?” he asks, smooth and soothing. “I’ll only look. I won’t touch, I promise.”

It’s a lousy excuse for a loophole. Actually, it doesn’t even qualify as a loophole.

Eren leans back, holding your shoulders in his hands. He looks you in the eyes and again, he insists, “No touching.”

Loophole or not, you can’t find it within you to care. You trust him, you think. Either that or your brain short-circuits because you can only repeat back, “No touching,” as you bob your pretty little head. 

Eren smiles down at you, runs his knuckles down the side of your face. It’s gentle, it’s praising, it brings—no, it yanks you back to him. 

“Lay on the bed,” he says. 

You do as you’re told, laying back on your forearms. He tugs your bottoms off with ease and reveals a pair of pale blue panties—a telling color. When you spread your legs for him, he can see how you’ve stained them with your arousal, soaked and ruined after some innocent teasing. 

You touch yourself without him having to ask. You trace over the damp patch and play with your clit through the fabric. He sees how easily your panties slip between your folds, how fucking wet you are, and has to stifle a curse.

Eren drops to his knees, nestled between your legs at the foot of the bed. He has a hand on either of your thighs, almost white-knuckling the plush skin.

“Look at that.” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or your pussy. “You like it when I talk to you, huh? When I tell you what to do?”

You whine at the words, rub your clit faster. You want to come. 

“So needy. What’s the rush?” Eren tuts. He climbs onto the bed, propping his back against the headboard. “Make yourself comfortable.”

As he says it, his hand travels lower. Dangerously low. It draws your attention to how hard he is, his insistent cock tenting in his sweatpants. He palms over it once, then twice, then grips himself through the fabric. Fuck. 

You stare with too much interest. The corner of Eren’s lip curls into a smirk when you have to close your hungry mouth. He’s just as greedy, though, just as riled up as you. Even the touch of his own hand has his arm muscles tightening and twitching.

You crawl over to his side and try to relax into the pillows as best as you can. Your shoulders droop, your knees fall to either side, but there’s a tremble to your hand as it returns between your legs. Your touch remains feather-light, almost a tickle, as you dance a finger along the hem of your underwear. You watch lecherously, with your head lolled to one side as Eren mirrors you—you’re still leading. His thumb dips below his waistband.

This still counts as ‘no touching,’ right?

Eren shoves his hand down his sweatpants. You can’t see it when he takes his cock in his hand, only the outline of him slowly working over his length underneath the fabric. 

Your eyes ask the question your lips wouldn’t dare to ask. Eren responds, “You first.” His eyes flicker to your crotch—your panties, more specifically. 

Your fingers stutter and pause. You’ve already dipped your toes into the corrupt waters, so you might as well take the full plunge.  

You tuck your underwear to the side, pinching them in the crease of your thigh. Your fingers are almost cold against your wet, hot skin and you shiver in response, letting the feeling wreck down your spine. You clench around nothing, whimpering just as helplessly. 

“Fuck,” Eren breathes, an incidental hiss.  

He pushes his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, and his cock slaps his front. He aches for anything more than his hand, but it’s all he has right now. It’s agonizing how what he needs is so damn close, but out of reach. 

He pumps himself faster, tightening his grip around the sensitive tip to mimic your cunt.

He can only catch glimpses of it. Your panties persistently get in his way, and when they aren’t, you’re having to tug them back to the side. Your gasps and moans turn to little grunts, your frustration staving off your orgasm even further.

Eren goes to grab your underwear but stops himself short.

“Take them off,” he tells you, somewhere between a request and a demand. If this is his one chance to be with you, to see you, then he’s going to see all of you. 

You listen. Your hand slips from between your legs and a sticky string connecting your fingers to your cunt snaps. You hope Eren didn’t see it, but you’re sure he did based on the impatient sound that comes from the back of his throat. You lift your hips from the bed and shimmy your underwear down your legs. Then you kick them to the floor. 

You don’t settle back into the bed before Eren says, “I want to see more of you,” because this still isn’t enough. “C’mere.”

He adjusts you to his liking until you’re in front of him, lying back on your elbows, spread, with your feet caging his hips. It’s a vulnerable position, you admit. One where you’re completely bare and completely on display and there’s no shying away. You may have even found it embarrassing if not for how turned on you are. The urge to come is nagging, simmering for so long that you fear you may boil over and do something you’ll regret later. 

“Shit.” Eren’s in awe of the sight before him: your glistening cunt, swollen and practically begging to come, and the dreamy expression on your face. It’s the sexiest you’ve ever looked, and he’s not even sure it’s intentional. Your eyes are as alert as they are moony, as confident as they are flustered; a doe locked in his headlights, willing to eat out of his palm despite her better judgment. 

“Spread yourself for me,” he murmurs. You do it with two fingers. “God, look at you.”

So pretty. What a shame it was that such a pretty pussy would go unfucked tonight. 

Eren leans back again, this time with a complacent hand tucked behind his head. He spits into his other, then slathers it over his length, unblushing to how your eyes follow every fluid movement.

“Go ahead,” he says, still calmly fisting his cock. “For real this time. Make yourself come for me.”

The encouragement travels straight to your core. You sink your middle finger inside first, then you add another. Your walls pulse, sucking the digits in further. You curve them, drag them in and out, in and out, until you find a pace that has your thighs threatening to snap shut. You pull out of yourself one last time and, with properly wetted fingers, you return to your neglected clit. It only takes a few slick circles before your breath quickens. 

“Yeah, just like that—fuck.” Eren feels his cock throb against his palm. He slows, pulling and tightening his grip, still pretending his hand is anywhere near as soft as your pussy. “You’ve listened so well. You deserve to come, don’t you think?”

You moan something incoherent.

“Tell me,” he says, smug and urgent, somehow at once. “Tell me what a good girl you’ve been. That you deserve to come.”

Slippery, unforgiving sounds fill the room, from the both of you, but you’ve already shed any shred of decency you had left. You dipped your toes first, and then you took a fateful dive. But now, the current has stripped away any semblance of control you had—or thought you had.

You’ve become a passenger inside your own body. Every motion feels wild and unpredictable, yet intimately inevitable. It’s a kaleidoscope of feelings and sensations. It’s strange and exhilarating. It’s this raw and primal surrender to only what’s physical and nothing more. 

Flowery language aside, you know one thing for sure: as much as you enjoy hearing him talk filth to you; he enjoys hearing you just as much. 

“I’m a—ah, I’m your good girl,” you moan shakily. Your skin becomes unbelievably hot, your fingers stuttering, struggling to keep up with your neediness. “I d-deserve to come.”

His good girl.

Eren’s stomach lurches, abdominals tightening. He nearly comes.

What a fucking gift you are. How lucky Eren feels to witness how you get yourself off when no one’s around, how you like to tease yourself—maybe even pretend he’s the one teasing you.

You bring a hand to your chest, gingerly caressing the tips of your fingers along your nipple that pokes through your shirt. You slide the hand over your breast before groping it fully. 

“Can I see your tits?” Eren blurts. Once again, there’s no use for dancing around the truth of the matter anymore: you both wanted to get off. 

“You first.” You giggle a little, all breathy, then restate, “Take off your shirt.”

Eren smiles at you before stripping, revealing a cute flush creeping up his chest. You stick to your promise, peeling your shirt off and tossing it aside. You skipped putting on a bra this evening because it was supposed to be a quiet night-in with friends, but it worked out pretty well for this, too. 

You graze your fingers over the peaks of your breasts, bouncing just so with every rub, rub, rub of your opposite hand. You bite back a harsh gasp, but little hums escape past your teeth, anyway. 

Eren’s thighs twitch. He fights the urge to buck his hips, to fuck up into nothing. His pants turn strained, exasperated. He thinks he might be numb to his hand at this point. He could use his spit again, but why should he have to when you’re right there, as desperate as he is?

Your name’s a raspy plea on his tongue. His hands smooth up your legs as he coos, “I need to feel you, baby.” His thumbs stroke your inner thighs, growing extremely close to the apex between them. “Need you to help me come. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”

Eren’s hands wrap around your ankles, pulling a yelp from you as he drags you toward him.

“I won’t put it in,” he promises. You’re so close he can feel the heat of your cunt against the underside of his cock. His hand somehow looks small in comparison as he holds himself at his base. He angles his cock until it’s about as close as it can be without touching you. “Please.”

Your heart pounds against your ribcage, but even more frantically, it pulses between your legs, loud and demanding. It’s as impossible to ignore as the man before you. Hot and horny, with messy hair and pretty pink cheeks and an even prettier cock that leaks at the mere thought of touching you, staring at you like he wishes to devour you whole.

You nod, and Eren doesn’t hesitate to push his cock between your slit. You watch him do it, sitting higher on your elbows. Even with the faintest amount of pressure, your jaw goes slack. 

He rocks his hips, gliding his cock through you, up and down, with the ridge of his head nudging your clit. Your skin prickles despite the thin layer of sweat you’ve accumulated.

You raise your hips, dragging your pussy over him, and bring yourself back down to the bed. His cock jolts. You feel it. You repeat the undulating motion again and again, effortlessly, because you can’t recall a time you’ve been wetter. So wet he slips out a time or two. He takes advantage of it once, tapping the tip of his cock against your clit.

Eren gives a low chuckle when your head falls back between your shoulder blades. “What a pretty little mess you are.”

You tilt your hips so he’s back in place, hitting your clit just right, over and over. It doesn’t take long for your legs to shake, swaying like they may give out. He steadies you, resting his hand on the divot of your hip. 

“Oh, god—Eren.” Your voice pitches on a broken moan. “I think I’m gonna come.”

His hand curves around your side, his fingers digging into the fat of your ass. He uses the grip to keep you moving, to guide you through it. He barrels you down the hill toward your release, and you can’t stifle a single cry as they spill from you.

“Yeah, that’s it. Let it all out, baby,” Eren encourages, saccharine as always but airless. Though his own release is imminent, he refuses to allow it to happen before yours. 

He flattens his fingers against his cock, pressing and adding delicious pressure. He proves how heavy, how hard, he is for you—how much better he’d feel inside you. The mere thought of it makes you groan. You push back on him instinctively, arching your back as you teeter on the edge of your undoing.

“So fucking hot,” Eren grunts, thrusting as if he were truly fucking you. He meets you each time you bear down on him, his pelvis slapping against you as his hips rise from the bed. “So fucking hot.”

That familiar feeling fizzes in your stomach, swarmy and radiating through you. It sparks in the tips of your fingers, even in your toes, and then your orgasm rips through you. Your entire being tenses, fists knotting themselves into the sheets and eyes screwing shut. The pleasure is white-hot and leaves you with stars behind your eyelids.

Eren urges you to open your eyes. “Keep ‘em on me while you come.” 

You try your best; you don’t let your eyes roll back. What’s hidden behind your fluttering lashes is pornographic. Your soaked thighs—his soaked thighs. You don’t even want to think about the blankets below you. 

You curse and cry his name. You look ruined, with eyebrows pinched and pulled together, your mouth hanging open like you want to scream out your orgasm. Eren crudely imagines how wrecked you’d look, how much better you’d feel, if you were coming with him inside you.

Your knees snap together, thighs sealing shut around his cock. He continues to fuck between them, against your pulsing, oversensitive pussy. Your body is spent and shaking, and he is right there with you. The sinewy muscles of his chest flex as he builds toward his climax.

“God, fuck,” Eren pants. “I’m gonna come, baby. Gonna come all over this pussy.”

When he does, it’s with his head thrown back and a beautiful groan. His body is flush with yours, his cock spilling across your legs. Come drips down the creases of your thighs, smearing with the last few pumps as he draws out every drop. He can’t believe he could feel so good from something as pathetic as grinding.

Your body lies limp, sprawling across the bed with your legs still draped over him. You wait for some post-horny clarity to smack you across the face, but the only slap you feel is the truth: you deserve better. You aren’t going back.

You stay there, waiting for the rise and fall of your chest to settle. One moment, you’re staring at the ceiling, then blink, Eren’s above you, taking your cheek in his hand. His fingers curl around the side of your face before he places his mouth on yours. He’s soft, both how he feels and how he kisses you, with lips slotted perfectly against yours, coaxing them open with his tongue.

You finally let him touch you this way; you kiss him back. You wrap your arms around his neck, and you wish for the moment to stay, just for a little longer.

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren one shot #eren smut #aot x reader

[futureman]

hi idk if u remember me but i literally love u okay anyways

so literally just dbf!joel saying “sweetheart i need you to be quiet” and ”baby i’m gonna cum if you don’t shut up” and maybe covering her mouth at some point 🤭

have a wonderful day and thank u sm for ur time 🙏🏾

hii love, ofc i remember you! tysm for sending this in ♡ accidentally got inspired by my dinner last night, oops. hope you enjoy!!

does your mother know?

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, no outbreak, close family friend!joel, language, smut, rough sex, unprotected piv, age gap, mild exhibitionism, old man joel can't keep it in his pants at family dinner

word count: 1.7k

Friday night dinner wasn’t supposed to go like this.

One hand buried in your hair and the other slapped over your mouth, muffling every moan and sigh you make while Joel fucks you against the sink in the upstairs bathroom of your family home. 

He'd arrived late with a charming, drawled apology and immediately made the mistake of taking the seat across from you. If he'd sat literally anywhere else, he might've been able to ignore the perfect curve of your tits in the lowest-cut shirt he'd ever seen you in, or your constant need for the salt and pepper shakers, conveniently placed right in front of his plate. 

Every time you leaned over the table, he was reminded of the fact that you’d decided to forgo a bra. Whether that was for his benefit or yours, he was doing his best not to find out. 

Not after your parents had taken the time to invite him here, insisting that he eat a home-cooked meal for once, knowing full well he's been surviving off TV dinners ever since Sarah left for college.

“That’s kinda rude of me, huh?” you smiled sheepishly after giving him a particularly revealing peek, but the look that followed was downright sinful. "My bad, I just didn’t wanna keep interrupting your dinner by asking you to pass the salt. Figured it’s been a while since the last time you ate."

And you were right. It had been a while since he’d tasted anything as sweet as you, that satisfied him the way you do, but you already knew that. It’s why you were baiting him—because you know he can’t resist you.

Still, he tried. He really did, but the Southern gentleman in him couldn't refuse dessert or the hefty glass of wine your mom poured after he'd finished helping her clear the table. So, when he'd found himself trapped between your familiar warmth and the armrest of the couch, he should've known there'd be trouble.

When you'd casually gestured a little too widely during the story you were telling and splattered half the glass across his flannel and jeans, he should've gone to the bathroom to treat the stains alone instead of accepting your apologetic offer to help.

He should’ve known better. 

But the second your doe eyes lock with his, roving over his body like the lovely dinner your mom made wasn’t nearly enough to fill you up, he realizes he does know better. He just doesn't give a shit.

And that's why you're bent over the sink, taking his cock like you were made for it, and making the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard. You either don’t care enough to stop, regardless of whether your parents can hear you or not, or you’re too blissed out to notice. But he does.

“Sweetheart, I need ya to be quiet,” he grits out tightly, barely audible over his hips slamming into yours and the filthy squelch of your pussy around him. “Don’t want us gettin’ caught, do ya?”

You can’t respond, or even nod, with his hand still held firmly over your mouth, so you whine your acknowledgment into his palm, squeezing your eyes shut as you try your best to do what he asked. 

You’re clearly struggling. Those muted, stuttered whimpers grow louder every time he buries himself to the hilt, and he almost wants to remove his hand and let the sounds of your pleasure echo around the room, so everyone in this house knows just how good he’s making his girl feel. 

“I know, baby, I know. Feels good, don’t it? S’hard to keep all those pretty noises in when you’re takin’ so much, but I need’ya to try,” his lips graze your ear with each growled word. 

Another pained whimper passes your lips through the cracks between his fingers, and he accidentally bucks into you harder than he means to. Christ, he’s never heard you sound like this before. So needy. He shouldn’t, but he wants to hear more. To feel your chest vibrate with it, watch in the mirror as your mouth parts around even just one perfect, drawn-out moan.

The hand buried in your hair trails down your neck, beautifully elongated as your back arches to take him deeper, and snakes around your body. He tugs down the front of your shirt—that flimsy fucking tank top that's been teasing him all night—to cup your breast and, fuck, you like that. Your pussy grips him in response, clenching intermittently while he roughly tweaks your nipple between two calloused fingers. 

You’re tight, almost too tight for him to keep up his merciless pace if he wants to last much longer, and so goddamn wet. You’re seeping right into the wine-stained fabric of his jeans, making an even bigger mess than you started with.

“Look at ya,” he mumbles, slowing to watch in awe as his cock drags against your entrance, reappearing slicker with every thrust. “So fuckin’ tight...and sloppy. You’re makin’ a mess of me, sweetheart."

You shudder under his rapt attention, at the sheer want in his voice, but despite the obvious effect of his words, you’re still staying quiet, just like he told you to. You’ve been such a good girl, so he decides to take a risk and reward you. 

“M'gonna let go, alright? But ya gotta keep bein' good for me," he leans down to press his lips between your shoulder blades, his hand dropping from your mouth to settle on your waist. "Don't need'ta be silent, just need'ya to keep it down. Can ya do that?"

You gasp as his slow, deep thrusts still and he presses flush against your ass, grinding into you languidly as he waits for your answer. 

"Y-yeah...yes, yes," you reply weakly, cold ceramic digging into your breasts as you pant heavily into the sink. "Keep going—p-please, just fuck me."

"That's my girl," he breathes raggedly, and he's a little ashamed at how quickly his balls start to tighten at the soft timbre of your voice. 

His pace abruptly picks up, and then he's forcing you onto his cock again, his hips slamming into yours with a steady, wet thock-thock-thock that's probably louder than you've been all night. But he doesn't stop—you feel way too fucking good to stop, and he likely couldn't even if he tried.

In the back of his mind, he tells himself that your parents are probably doing dishes by now, and whatever he's doing to their daughter upstairs is getting drowned out by running water and clattering dishware. 

He continues to repeat the shitty lie to himself as he yanks you up, pulling your back flush against his chest and wrapping an arm around your stomach to hold you in place. The abrupt shift changes the angle of his hips so he’s fucking up into you instead, and it feels...indescribable. 

He's hitting something he wasn't able to reach before, a sensitive spot impossibly deeper inside you that has your pussy squeezing him, gushing down his cock, and he's—

Fuck, he's not going to last long. 

"Mmph...fuck—there, Joel, there. So, so fucking close, please, need it harder."

Christ, and you begging him to fuck you harder isn't helping. His hand drops between your legs to your swollen clit, slipping through the slick mess to rub tight, insistent circles into the hardening nub, and the heady friction has your thighs quaking almost immediately. 

"S'good...feels soso good," you slur deliriously, teetering on the cusp of your orgasm. "Wanted you so fucking bad all night...ngh, should've fucked me right there on the table—"

Joel cuts you off before you can finish, pushed a little too far past his limit.

"Baby, m'gonna cum if ya don’t shut up," he grits through his teeth, still pounding into that spot, still rubbing hard and fast swirls into your clit, and he can feel how close you are.

"F-fuck, me too—m'so close. Fill me up, please."

That sends him over the edge. You barely have time to gasp in a breath before he shoves you back down, lifting one of your legs up to the side so he can sink even deeper as he practically mounts you on the edge of the sink.

"Fuck yeah, I'll fill ya up," he groans, drawn-out and wrecked, as he empties inside you, thick spurts coating your convulsing walls. His hands greedily roam your body, caressing every inch of bare skin he can reach. "Send ya back downstairs to your momma and daddy with my cum leakin' out of ya. Filthy fuckin' girl."

Three more achingly deep thrusts, and then you're cumming hard, exploding hot and wet around him, already feeling him start to drip out of you and down your thighs. Your entire body seizes, desperate not to make a single sound while he fucks you through your orgasm, but then Joel meets your eyes in the mirror.

The warm chestnut of his eyes has been completely overtaken by his blown-pupils and he looks a little wild, like he's about to do something you'll both regret. Then, he does. Without warning, he buries his face into the crook of your neck and bites down hard, sucking a bruise into your skin he knows you won't be able to hide, and the squeal that erupts from your chest is high-pitched enough that you know everyone in the house heard it.

The thought alone stokes the heat already starting to build in the pit of his groin again, and the sight of his cum leaking out of your pussy in thick globs when he pulls out only fans the flames.

"M'takin' you home, sweetheart. Gonna fuck ya the way you deserve," he mumbles into your marked skin, and you tremble in his arms, whimpering softly through an aftershock. "Then, you can scream as loud as ya want—"

"Everything alright up there?" Your mom's voice filters up the stairs. "What, did one of y'all fall into the sink?"

Joel noses into your hair, chuckling before he responds.

"Just finished."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[rebelfell]

so wrong, it's right

a vaguely halloween-ish blurb where eddie has it bad for his best friend’s girlfriend…except you’re not his girlfriend anymore. 18+, MDNI

“Princess, I can’t,” Eddie whines pitifully. “We can’t. It’s wrong.”

This was so not how he saw the night going— sitting in the den at Tina’s dumb Halloween party, having to tell the girl of his dreams he can’t give her what she’s asking for, dressed up in a shitty pirate costume from the goodwill of all things.

At least he got to use his own bandana.

His hands squeeze tight on your arms as he tries to hold you at a safe distance. He doesn’t have it in him to push you away, enjoying too much the feel of your legs draped across his lap.

You’re Alice in Wonderland, the light blue of your dress nicely setting off the color of your skin. The skirt is painfully (for him) short and it’s made even shorter by the fluffy petticoat underneath it. White stockings hug your legs all the way up your sumptuous thighs, accented at the top with little black bows. It almost could double as one of those French maid outfits and Eddie has got to stop picturing you dusting things right now.

The sound of the party still going on in the main part of the house filters down the hallway to the room you brought him to in search of someplace quiet where you could share a joint. At the time he’d thought it was a little odd, especially since you didn’t usually smoke.

But since when did he ever stop to ask questions when you wanted him to do something? It wasn’t like he was going to start now.

And considering the way you’d sidled up as close to him as you could and pushed down his hand as he was taking out one of his pre-rolls, you clearly had a different agenda.

Did he even lock the door behind him? 

He’s not sure. His nose is swimming in the cherry liquor on your breath and the subtle florals of your perfume. The combination is making him dizzy and his jeans are uncomfortably tight. He’s been half-hard since he got here and all you did was wave at him from across the room.

“Isn’t that kinda what makes it fun, though?” You purr in his ear and your tongue traces the shell of it, making his whole body convulse.

He can’t do this. Can’t, can’t, can’t…

“No, no,” he says, a desperate pant. “I-I can’t hook up with my buddy’s girl, it’s not right.”

“Except I’m not his girl anymore…you know?”

Oh, Eddie knows. 

He’s known for weeks now, ever since news of the break-up ran through the school like food poisoning on meatloaf day. He’s known it every day he watched you walk down the hall without the tall, broad frame of Steve Harrington hanging all over you. He’s known it in his van on the way home when he pictures himself standing over you at your locker, thumb tugging down your plump bottom lip before he leans in to kiss you.

And he’s especially known it in his bed, late at night, when he’s imagining you’re there with him, hand firmly wrapped around his hard, throbbing—holy fucking shit.

With a shudder and a gasp, he’s brought hurtling back to the moment, suddenly feeling an actual hand on his cock. Except it’s not his own, it’s yours. Your fingers trace the shape of it through the seam in his jeans and he thinks he might actually die if he doesn’t get to bury himself inside you in the next five seconds.

A rumbling groan releases from deep in his chest and he tightens his grip on your shoulders, pulling you closer this time. You lick your lips and smile like the little minx you are, knowing you’ve won. As if there was ever any question you would.

Eddie swallows hard, drawing one last shaky breath as he tips his head to the side.

That fucking look in your eyes should be illegal.

continued at x

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #my st fics

[discotitsposts]

meant to be

Spencer trying and failing to flirt with you because you are oblivious to his attempts.

spencer reid x reader

i picture this as later seasons spencer maybe sometime around 12-14?

some mature themes mentions of sex at the end so 18+

writing this because i saw something about people who are bad at flirting and that’s literally me. (i hope ppl get the reference w the nickname)

Spencer had tried every day to get your attention romantically. It didn’t work. Nothing did. You were so oblivious to all of his flirting attempts. He figured maybe you had trouble understanding so he worked harder to make you think of him as more than a friend. He tried everything his genius brain could come up with.

He even made up a nickname for you, Bean, because you always had a coffee in your hand, and because he was taller than you.

Today you were getting coffee with him as usual. At your favorite coffee shop and library. You didn’t work at the BAU so you would eventually have to go to your own job so Spencer decided to try again.

Since you lived in the same building, neighbors in the same hall, he picked you up every morning. Drove you to get coffee and you each picked a book for each other and then he drove you to work.

He knocks on your door awaiting anxiously. You come out in your outfit, just a t shirt and jeans. you didn’t have a dress code at your job, you were an author and usually went into a nice office that the publishing company provided to write since you had a hard time focusing in your apartment. Too many distractions.

In Spencer’s car you make small talk as he tries to think of a way to flirt with you. Normally he’d call Morgan but his son was a toddler now so he was busy. He gets so lost in his head he doesn’t realize he just ran a stop sign on accident and almost hit someone.

He hears you yell “Spencer what the fuck!” and slams the brakes. The other car honks and his heart is pounding in his brain. He pulls to the side of the road and stops.

“Spencer. Breathe. It’s ok.” You worry tracing your face at the sight of his extremely fast breathing and you rub his back reassuringly.

“Holy shit.” He barely chokes out. His face is beet red and he looks like he’s about to have a panic attack.

“Switch.” You tell him. He looks at you and feels comforted immediately by your face. “Let’s go, switch.” You get out of the car and switch sides.

‘So much for flirting’ he thinks. Then it hits him. When he picks your book for the day, he’ll give you a romantic story. Something that says ‘I really like you but I’m an idiot so I don’t know how to tell you but i’m not actually an idiot because im technically a genius but my fucked up life has ruined romance for me but i’d love to try it with you if you are okay with that.’

When you take over driving you don’t talk. You just focus on the road. You had even turned the music off. He hopes you’re not upset with him. That thought quickly dissipates when you pull into the parking lot and your face is beaming. You both race to the entrance and he gets there first and opens the door for you. You stick your tongue out at him and he smirks.

You order your usual drinks and he gets himself a breakfast bagel and you get a croissant. He puts the food at a table and you both get up to grab each other a book. You had yours picked since last night, The Godfather. It’s only a little over 400 pages so he’ll probably finish it by lunch time but at least it will be fun for him since it will make him think of you. At least you hope it does.

You have a habit of making funny commentary during movie nights. When you watched ‘The Godfather’ trilogy with Spencer he had laughed so hard he cried.

Meanwhile Spencer is searching rows of books looking for the right one. He moves to poetry but nothing feels right. He feels slightly frustrated so he moves back to classics and picks ‘A Little Princess’ instead. A favorite of yours you had read in elementary school. Not romantic but shows he knows you well.

When he makes his way back to the register to check the book out, you’re already seated munching your croissant. He makes his way to you and hides the book behind his back. You discreetly pull yours out of your bag and hide it the same way.

“1,2,3!” You both count at the same time and then reveal your books. Spencer cracks up when he sees the book you had picked. He had read this before but he enjoyed it because it reminded him of you. You both eat and finish your coffees. You look at each other.

“More?” Spencer asks.

“Obviously.” You answer. You both stand up and order more coffee.

Back in Spencer’s car you open the book and start reading. He’s about to put the key in the ignition when sudden confidence hits him. He doesn’t know if it’s the caffeine but he doesn’t care. He should kiss you right now. He stares at you until you look up.

“You’re going to be late for work if you don’t start that engine up soon Mr. Chauffeur.” You tease him.

He leans closer and puckers his lips slightly. He’s so filled with lust he just can’t wait anymore.

You look at him strangely. Was he trying to kiss you right now? Probably not. Truth was you were always so filled with doubt whenever you liked someone. Especially Spencer. He was just too handsome and sweet and perfect.

He leans in even closer to you and tilts his head. You, however, had gone back to your book and weren’t even looking at him.

“Does this make you uncomfortable” Spencer leans in closer. He closes his eyes and you lean down to reach for something from your bag. He doesn’t feel your soft lips on his and thinks he may have missed your face. He opens his eyes.

“Everything does. I have anxiety Spencer. All the time anywhere day and night. ” You reply while eating a yogurt you had found in your tote.

Spencer pulls away and smacks his forehead. He starts the car and drops you at your work and drives to the BAU feeling defeated. What would it take for you to realize how bad he wants you.

That night he decides to drop by your apartment. You had gotten a ride home from work by a friend tonight. He opens his door and walks the short distance to yours.

When his hand knocks on your door he feels nervous. You open the door and greet him.

“Hi!” You cheer.

“Hey, I was gonna order a pizza. You want?” He lies. He actually wasn’t the biggest fan of pizza. He didn’t eat it too often but it was your favorite food so why not.

“That would be great. I’m starving.” You clutch your belly dramatically. Which makes Spencer laugh.

He picks up the phone, “What would you like on the pizza m’lady.”

You tap your chin and think. “Sausage.” You reply. Spencer thinks of a way to flirt. Kind of.

“How much sausage would you like?” He asks smirking.

“Uhh, 5? I don’t know dude. The normal amount that goes on a pizza?” You answer sarcastically, going to your dvd rack to pick a movie. Spencer sighs. He calls and places the order and helps you pick a movie.

“How about ‘How To Be A Serial Killer?’ That’s a good one. I love Matthew Gray Gubler in this one so much.” You fan girl a little.

“Who the fuck is Matthew Gray Gubler? Also, no, not with my line of work. I need a break from that.” Spencer asks with a hint of jealousy in his voice. You clasp your hand over your heart dramatically.

“Ok, fine. how about a Disney Classic? Sleeping Beauty is my favorite.” You ask. Spencer nods. You put the movie on and grab two root beers from your fridge. Spencer thanks you when you hand him one and you lay a big fluffy blanket over you both. Not far into the movie the pizza arrives and you cheers Spencer with your pizza slice.

After you both eat and are full the movie is still on. You’re starting to feel sleepier by the second. Spencer offers you to lay with him and you take him up on it. He’s basically a giant teddy bear. He’s so warm and comfortable.

“I’ve got a real life sleeping beauty right here.” He whispers to you. You smile with your eyes closed. Too sleepy to open. He gets out from under you, to your dismay. He cleans up the trash from eating. He even washes some dishes you had left sitting. When he comes back, you’re still half awake. He sees you sneak an eye open to look at him and your smile after.

“It seems there’s a fair maiden who has fallen asleep. However can we wake her? What if she sleeps for a hundred years?!” He exclaims. You start giggling softly. He leans closer to observe you.

“I don’t believe it! She’s laughing in her sleep! Must be quite a funny dream. Wonder what it is. Only one way to find out.” He gently leans down and kisses your lips softly. This action puts you in shock and you’re blushing. He starts to pull away because doubts fill his mind. You grab his hair and pull him back in.

You both pull back and he starts to ask you,

“Were you ok with that?”

You cut him off, “Yes.” Then you rip your shirt off. Spencer’s in shock. He follows your lead and starts undressing. He picks you up and carries you to your bedroom. The kiss you’re sharing is deepening by the second.

“Fuck why is it so hot in here.” You complain.

“I can think of a few reasons.” Spencer had been kissing you on your neck sucking the skin softly. He lays you back on the bed. He makes you comfortable. He goes down on you and then fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before.

The next morning you woke up naked next to him flashes of last night replaying. You couldn’t believe it. Spencer was so passionate! You didn’t even imagine he liked you like that.

He groans next to you and turns over. You get up and put on some coffee. When you come back into the bedroom he’s awake and looking for you.

“Hey, coffee’s ready.” You lean over and kiss him. He groans too tired to give an answer. He pulls you into the bed and holds you longer.

With him, this felt so easy and realistic.

Then you realize something.

This was meant to be.

the end ♡

to anyone who read this far: hope u enjoyed reading!! please let me know if u enjoyed! xoxo

#criminal minds #spencer reid #mgg #matthewgraygubler #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid

[byechristopher]

Quiet.

– MATT STURNIOLO SMUT.

Author's note: Y'ALL. Shout-out to my Matt girls. This is my first Matt fic ever. I love everything about this fic – I love when women get ready when their crush MIGHT be there, I fucking love petnames and I feel like Matt definitely uses a lot too, I love movie nights and Matt would definitely finger his girl under the covers, I love dom but gentle Matt. I love it. Bye. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: long and filthy smut. Minors dni! Semi-public?, fingering, petnames, dom!Matt. Didn't proofread!

"So, can you swing by?" I hear my friend's voice through the phone.

"Absolutely. Heading to the market in a bit, grabbing some beers, and I'll be at your place by 9PM. Sound good?" I reply, rummaging through every drawer to find my wallet.

"Perfect, babes. See you there!" she says. After exchanging greetings, I hang up, sliding my phone into the back pocket of my pants.

Considering Matthew freaking Sturniolo will be there, I'm already dressed with makeup on, not wanting to waste a single second; I aim to be there ASAP.

Not that I'm trying to impress Matt (yes I am), but there's been a thing between us (I refuse to call it a "situationship") since we all started hanging out. I've been part of that friend group for nearly two years now, and from the moment I joined, Matt started being quite flirty. And ever since then, we just casually flirt, make-out, have sex.. very casual.

Now, after a few weeks of not seeing each other (though we talk on the phone almost daily), I want to be my best self. I've done my skincare, enjoyed a three-hour-long bath, styled my hair in loose curls, put on comfy clothes – the whole shebang. If I've done this for nothing, I'll scream. Internally.

None of this matters now, because I am outside my friend's apartment, clutching the paper bag of beers in one hand and my scarf in the other one. I knock on the door, patiently waiting but instead of my friend, of course it's Matt who opens it, dressed in his signature black hoodie, black jeans, his usual chain dangling around his neck and his usual rings decorating his fingers. He looks.. delicious.

"Didn't expect me to open the door." it's more of a statement than a question, so I smile and nod.

"Not really, no." I chuckle, not moving an inch.

"You told me you'd be here by 9. So I'm here." he says with that captivating voice, taking a step closer, slowly pulling the door handle without closing it.

Cupping my cheek, he moves in, rubbing my bottom lip with his thumb, gently 1smudging my lipgloss before leaning in for a kiss. I release my scarf to grab his free hand, tugging on his fingertips as I reciprocate the kiss.

"You look pretty." he whispers against my lips and I smile.

Before entering, I pause him, rubbing his lips with my thumb to remove my lipgloss from them. Chuckling at his knowing stare, I say, "come on, let's go!" gently pushing him inside.

God help me, he smells amazing.

After greeting everyone and putting the beers inside the fridge, I take off my scarf and my coat, heading to the kitchen again so I can help with the snacks and the beers.

"Guys, I'm sorry in advance but you're probably going to freeze your ass off. Something's wrong with the heating so I'll just give y'all a ton of blankets." our friend apologises but we all brush it off.

"Bitch, we used to hang out in dark alleys in WINTER when we were younger, literally shut up. We can take it." another friend says, rolling her eyes and I laugh. We are all living the same lives, it seems.

After deciding which movie we will watch, with the snacks and the drinks on the table and the blankets ready to provide us with warmth, we were finally ready. I did have my eye on Matt so of course, when he patted the spot next to him on the small settee while looking at me with a smile, I almost ran to make sure I secure my place next to him.

The movie has started already, Matt is sitting next to me and we have two blankets covering us – his hand is on my thigh and my thigh is over his leg. His thumb is rubbing my leg through my pants and it's much more distracting than I could ever imagine. I do make sure to curl up against his side and he smiles, making sure the blankets are covering me properly.

Not even fifteen minutes have passed and I already feel the need to pee; that goddamn wine. I excuse myself and practically run to the bathroom, only to come back a few minutes later to see Matt almost laying on that settee. All the lights are closed but I know he can kind of see my reflection because of the big TV screen, so he can see the question marks all over my face – where the hell am I gonna seat?

He smiles and he pushes the blankets to the side, sitting up a bit and spreading his legs so I can sit in between them.

Well, fuck.

Sitting down in between his legs, I grab his thighs to support myself and make sure my whole back is pressed against him, leaning back to practically lay on his chest. I pull the blankets over us and he pecks the top of my head, almost as if it was a reward.

Seeing where all of this is going, I thank whoever is up there because our friends are quite far from us, all fully facing the TV. Matt quickly wraps his arms around my waist, resting them on my belly and I can feel how cold his hands are even through my shirt. Minutes go by and I can feel Matt playing with my shirt, his cold fingertips already touching my bare skin, raising goosebumps on it. He drags his short fingernails up and down my sides, making me smile because he knows I like that.

His hands slowly drag themselves up, pulling my shirt over my chest, my breasts now free, "love when you're not wearing a bra." he whispers in my ear and I chuckle.

My hands are on his knees and his hands are on my breasts, cupping them and caressing them, pressing small kiss on my neck, "you smell amazing.." he whispers, "do you think you can be quiet for me, pretty?" he pecks the tip of my ear.

"Yes, Matt.." I whisper back, getting comfortable on his chest, still pretending to watch that movie.

His hands are massaging my breasts, rubbing and pinching my nipples with his long fingers, tugging on them every now and then – it is hard to keep quiet but I've done this many times, I'm sure I can handle it.

Sitting with bent knees now, he hums, pressing another rewarding kiss on the top of my head, "keep playing with your tits for me, hm? I'm gonna take care of you." he whispers and I want to moan just by the words he says.

I nod and cup my breasts instead, massaging them gently as I feel his hands moving down to my thighs – he massages them and spreads my legs open gently, placing his legs on my feet to keep my legs in place. I feel his fingertips hooking around the waistband of my pants and panties, gently pulling them down as I slowly raise my hips to make it easier for him.

"You have to be very quiet now, okay?" he says and I immediately nod, desperately needing him to touch me there, "tease your nipples. I want to see you struggling." he chuckles, keeping me close to him.

I gently hit his leg and he can't help but laugh – I keep teasing my nipples, just like he ordered, keeping my eyes to the television even though I can feel his fingers dangerously close to where I need him the most. Finally, one of his fingers gently touch my clit, rubbing in circle motions as his breath fans over my ear together with the softest moans. I can feel him dragging his finger down, only to chuckle at how wet it is down there – I almost whine.

"God, I wanna taste you. You're so wet." he whispers and circles my entrance, collecting my juices and focusing back on my clit.

"Matty.. please.." I whisper back, my hands now leaving my sensitive breasts, grabbing his thighs instead.

"Please what, sweetheart?" he says and gently slaps my pussy, making me gasp softly.

I couldn't speak – all I can think about is his fingers inside of me. But I feel like if I open my mouth now, I won't be able to keep my moans in. I buck my hips, needing to feel more pressure on my clit but he's having none of it. He pushes my hips down and flicks my clit in the softest way possible, which makes me want to cry.

"You know how it goes. Use your words." he uses two other fingers to spread my pussy, making it easier for him to rub my clit with his middle finger.

"Please.. Matty.. I need.. your fingers inside of me.." I beg between shaky breaths, trying to be as quiet as possible.

"See?" he kisses the side of my head, "there's my good girl." he says and just by that, I almost lose it. But then he finally pushes a finger inside of me and I have to cover my mouth with the blankets.

His middle finger pushes in and out of my wetness and I squeeze my eyes shut, really trying not to let out the moans that have been threatening to come out this whole time. His other arm is wrapped around me, keeping me in place as he rubs my clit and fingers me at the same time with his other hand.

"I'm going to add another finger, baby. I need you to keep that pretty mouth closed, yeah?" he warns – the hand that was gripping my waist is now keeping my mouth closed, I nod anyway.

He slowly takes his finger out and instead, he rubs my entrance with two fingers. He gently pushes and I wince softly in his hand, "you can take it, baby, shhh." he whispers and I really need to fucking moan now. He finally pushes both of his fingers inside of me and I want to cry from how good it feels. My nails dig into his thighs and luckily (for him), he's wearing jeans otherwise it would definitely leave a mark.

He starts moving them in and out, slowly, still covering my mouth under the blankets with his other hand as his lips move to my neck. He starts sucking on the skin, licking it and biting it as he pushes his fingers inside till he's knuckles-deep.

"I wish I could kiss you right now – the way you would moan into my mouth trying to kiss back, turns me on." he takes my earlobe in between his lips, gently sucking on it.

His fingers start moving at a much faster pace and I'm sure that if the TV wasn't this loud, everyone would hear the noises my pussy makes from how wet he made me. He curls his fingers inside of me and I close my eyes, really struggling to keep my mouth closed now, "pretty girl. Do you think you can take a third finger?"

I wrap my fingers around his wrist and slowly move his hand away from my mouth, letting him know I have my moans a little bit under control now (not even close), "please, Matt.. I need it.." I whisper, my voice is trembling. Still, I grab his free hand and pull it closer to me, taking a finger into my mouth and I can feel his bulge against my back.

"Darling, don't do that.." he warns, "or I'll have to fuck you in front of everyone." he whispers and bites my neck.

Finally, he's pushing a third finger inside and I really need to cry. He's finger-fucking me at a fast pace, he's being rough but gentle at the same time, it's overwhelming, "touch yourself, baby. And don't stop."

I quickly move my free hand, rubbing my own clit gently as he fucks me with force – I am so close and he knows it, I can feel myself clenching around his fingers.

"Matty.. Matt.. fuck, I'm – please.." I am almost completely under the covers because I can try to keep my moans in, but my expression definitely cannot be hidden.

"Are you going to cum for me, baby? Come on. Come on my fingers." he's so gentle when he speaks but his fingers are merciless, and that contrast is what drives me over the edge.

"That's it, baby.. that's it." he whispers and I finally cum, trembling a little but I try not to make it so obvious.

He takes his fingers out slowly, caressing my legs in order for me to calm down before he brings them close to his mouth, licking them clean, "when this movie is over, you're leaving with me. I'm eating you out in my car."

He drives me crazy.

#matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matty #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #fanfiction #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #fluff #sturniolo smut #smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo imagines #imagines #imagine #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo oneshots #oneshot #pet names #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you

[rainylana]

“It’s just a cut.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: too many times had eddie tended to your wounds and broken heart. he’s had enough.

a potential series if you guys want it! let me know!

warnings: extremely angsty and not for everyone! i tried to make this as real as possible for both sides and it’s not an easy read. please tread with caution. therefore warnings are: physical and emotional abuse by readers mother, wounds and blood, mentions of weighed and irregular eating habits, low confidence and self esteem mentions, language, very angsty fight between reader and eddie, broken nose, lots of tears, reader still loves her mother very much despite her actions. eddie isn’t a jerk, i didn’t try to convey him that way, but this is a heavy subject and it needed to feel real. i dated a jerk and know what some of this can be like. requested by @h-ness1944 i hope you like this dear! i hope i did it justice to what you wanted!

Was he mad? You couldn’t tell. He hadn’t said anything in almost twenty minutes. Your heart was racing. The last thing you wanted was to loose him. You knew it was getting to him, seeing you all cut up and beaten on, but what else was there to do?

Your shirt was off, sitting on the couch in your bra and jeans as you sniffled, tears that had long since dried and left a sticky residue on your cheeks, mascara dark and streaked. Your mom had thrown a beer bottle at you again, a normal occurrence, they just didn’t usually hit you. It had sliced the skin on your back open. Luckily, it wasn’t bad enough to need stitches, but that didn’t matter to Eddie.

You regretted coming over. You shouldn’t have bothered him with it. You could feel the anger and hurt radiating off of him. You had sworn him to secrecy, and you could see the toll it took on him.

Your mom had increasingly got more creative when it came to dealing out punishments. She had ever since she started heavily drinking, when your dad had left her. You loved your dad and missed him dearly, but you didn’t blame him for leaving her. He had to take care of himself too. If he knew what your mom did, he’d surely come back to stop her. You couldn’t do that to him. At the end of the day, you could endure it, you just weren’t sure if Eddie could anymore.

“Please say something.” Your voice was hoarse.

You had your back to him, wincing slightly as he dapped a pad of alcohol on your cut, trying to make sure it didn’t get caught with an infection.

“What do you want me to say?” His voice barely conveyed any emotion.

When you had showed up, blood seeping through your shirt, he’d done what he did every time, debated taking you to the hospital, but your panicked state always talked him out of it. He’d sunk into protective mode, guiding you to the couch and pulling your shirt off, shushing you gently and telling you he’d get you fixed up. That was twenty five minutes ago. He was too quiet now.

His voice brought fresh tears to your eyes. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

He sighed heavily, cursing himself. There was no need to be cold toward you. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He squeezed your shoulder. “I’m almost finished.”

He wiped your wound dry, covering it with a gauze and bandage. He’d stocked up on medical supplies a few months ago. One night he had cried when he realized just how quickly it was going. He was terrified for you, afraid one day, you wouldn’t walk through the door needing aid from your wounds. One day it would be Hopper, hat in his hands and offering his condolences. He had thought about going to the police so many times behind your back, but he’d loose you then. Was he being selfish?

“Please don’t hate me.” You cried emotionally, looking down to your shoes.

“Y/n,” He turned you gently, grabbing your chin. “I do not hate you.” His thumb traced your bottom lip, watching as you sniffled and cried, his other hand swiping away some tears that fell down your cheek. “Just calm down, honey.” He raised his chin to you, instructing softly. He didn’t want you to get yourself worked up like you usually did.

You breathed in the hands that held you upright, face beat red and blotchy. You body ached with pain and guilt. You wanted nothing more to curl up in his chest, but you fought the urge. He might not have wanted you too.

“What happened this time?” He said, reaching to the floor to hand you your shirt. “Was she drinking?”

You told him what happened, or lack of what happened. It was never really much of anything. She’d scream at you, call you names that you couldn’t repeat. Throw things and hit you. You said, nothing really, shrugging your shoulders. There was a time where Eddie would have demanded more of an answer, but he grew to realize that sometimes it never really was anything. That’s just how your mother was.

Eddie bit down hard on his lip, looking away from you to the kitchen. “Spend the weekend here with me. I don’t want you going back tonight.” He’d wanted you to move in with him for so long, but you never could leave your mother. He didn’t understand that, and your fought about it several times.

“Eddie?” You grabbed at his knee, eyes fearful and wide. “I really am sorry.”

He grabbed your hand and kissed it, but said nothing as he got up and disappeared into the bathroom. He couldn’t help it. With each time you came barging in during the night, day, whatever, it chipped away at his heart. He’d watched you change over the last year as your mother’s words became more harsh. You accepted the beatings more easily, but the way she spoke to you had taken it’s toll. He could see that clear as a bell.

Your self confidence had plummeted. You didn’t like to reveal any of your skin that you didn’t have to. You were much quieter than you used to be, only really speaking to him or some of the members of hellfire. Wayne, too, of course.

He was washing his hands, trying his best to not smash the mirror in front of him. He was being distant and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. How much longer until you’d have to undergo surgery? How much longer until the words hurt so bad you’d kill yourself just to get away from it? How much longer until he’d be standing by your grave?

He looked up to find tour reflection, tearful and afraid. He knew what you were thinking. You knew what he was thinking. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your lips to his back to hold him. He relaxed into your touch, hands still slightly wet from the sink.

“Don’t worry about me, Ed’.” You whispered. “I’ll be okay.”

His hands held yours above his stomach, staring at your sad reflection. “No, you won’t.” He answers honestly, a small shake of his head that you barely miss. “Don’t lie to yourself.”

You were always crying. You were always sad. You were always so heartbroken, a shell of what you once used to be.

“It’s just a cut.” You defended, causing him to shrivel under your touch and pull away, quickly drying his hands with a towel and leaving the bathroom.

“Don’t start that shit.” He said lowly, entering your bedroom. “It’s not a cut. It’s never just a cut. It’s so much more than that.”

“Okay, okay, well-” You started to rant, mouth opening but falling closed at a loss of words.

He waited for you to speak.

“I don’t know what to say.” You cross your arms defensively. “I just- I don’t want you to worry. I’m sorry I came here. I shouldn’t have.”

No. That’s the last thing he wanted you to think. You were always welcome and he would always look after you. He cursed under his breath, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “Baby, no, that’s not what I’m saying.” He comes to you, grabbing your shoulders.

He pulls you into his chest, you’re a blubbering, whimpering mess. He’s careful to not touch your bandage. “I can’t not worry about you, angel.” His voice is full and close to breaking.

“You don’t understand how hard it is for me to watch you suffer like this. I can’t stand to see you wither away.” His eyes tear up, holding the back of your head. “I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to keep quiet, sweetheart.”

You’re sobs increase and you’re grasping on to him for dear life.

“I know you love her, baby, but she’s not good for you.” His voice shakes and so does his bottom lip. “God, I wish I could just take you away.”

You’re too distraught to say anything. You hold him and he holds you.

•

“I’m done, y/n.” Eddie’s got angry tears falling down his face, voice filled with a rage full venom he was dying to take out on something, anything. “I’m done with this shit. Either you go to the police or I will.”

“Eddie, please!” You’re begging him, practically on your knees as you sob hysterically. “Please, don’t! I’m sorry! It won’t happen again, I swear it!”

“You say that every time!” He says incredulously, flaying his arms about like you’d gone mad. “And every time nothing changes!”

It had been bad this time. Your mom had said absolutely disgusting things to you, taking about your weight, making remarks about the way you talked and how Eddie was crazy for being with you. You’d made the mistake of trying to stand up to her. Your nose was most likely broken from being shoved into the wall, the crunch still loud in your ears that made you cringe from the memory. The blood had dried, but it hurt to breath. Your tears caused you immense pain from the weight of your cries, the heaves from your chest making your face ache.

Eddie stepped back and sobbed softly, holding his head with a hand and cursed. “Fuck.” He couldn’t hold back his emotions this time.

You brought up your hand to your mouth, trying your best to calm down, but it wasn’t doing much good. “Eddie, please!” You whimpered. “You can’t say anything. You swore!”

“I know I did!” He snapped, throwing down his arm. “You swore me to something that you shouldn’t have! Now I’m stuck watching you get beat on every day! Do you know what the hell that does to me?” He was shouting now, tears boiling down your face. You turned away from him and bawled.

In the moment, he wondered if he was any better than your mother, yelling at you and making you cry. Maybe later, he’d hate himself for it, but he couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“Look at this picture.” He tore out his wallet and flipped it open, taking out the polaroid of you that he kept in the first sleeve. “Look at how happy you were there.” It was only a few years ago, back when the antics of your mother began. You were smiling with full teeth, wearing a pretty pink dress and face decorated with happiness and joy.

“You see how different you look?” He held the picture to your face. “You’re too thin. You don’t eat. You’ve got bruises all over you. I haven’t seen you smile like that in years.”

Your nose started bleeding again, you could feel the cool, metallic taste of blood on your upper lip. Eddie watched it drop down, his tear falling in sync with your blood.

“You can’t make me keep doing this, y/n.” He said your, shaking his head and grasping at the picture. “I love you too much to watch you get hurt. I’m giving you a choice, darlin’. It’s either you or me.”

“No.” You shake your head. “She won’t survive in jail, Eddie! She needs me to take care of her!” Your chest heaves through tears, a panicked anxiety making you hysterical. “Please, Eddie, please!” You fall to the floor at his feet, grasping at his knees, begging him to forget it all. You had snot and blood, hot tears falling down your face, making your skin red and blotchy.

You pulled at him and sobbed, and Eddie just didn’t know what to do. Both of your hearts were breaking. He held his hands at your head, and he slowly looked up at the ceiling and cried with you. “I can’t do it anymore, baby.” He whimpered. “I need you safe. I can’t wait until it’s too late. I won’t have you dying on me.”

“Eddie, please!” You’re hysterical, squeezing his legs.

“If you hate me it’s okay.” He sniffles, wiping a hand over his face. “I just need you safe. That’s all I need.”

You grow angry at his defiance, pushing yourself off the ground. “I said no, Eddie! She’s my mother, not yours!” You spat, a sudden change of emotion that had him reeling back.

“Y/n, please.” He begged, closing his eyes. “I- I can’t. I just..I just can’t anymore. You’re asking me to do the impossible. Do I have to watch you be killed!” He shouts at the end, eyes burning red with angry, hurt tears.

“I’ll break up with you!” You scream, the ache in your nose making you groan. “I swear to god, Eddie, if you tell anyone we’re done!”

It all went silent. Eddie cried. You cried. Hearts were racing and limbs were trembling. He took a slow, deep breath. “I have to.” It was all he said, keeping his eye on you, but it was enough.

With a cold glare, you were slamming the door on the way out.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson angst #eddie the brave #eddie x reader

[honeywiththemoneyloa222]

MENTALLY JUST BE, PHYSICALLY JUST SLEEP

The 3D is a RESULT

If you assume something in the 4D(your mind) watch it unravel in your 3D

Why is this???

I’m gonna yell at you now

BECAUSE THE 3D IS CHANGEABLE AND IT IS SO BECAUSE OF THE FACT THAT IT IS A RESULT

The 3D is a result of assumption

The assumptions you created yourself subconsciously

Manifesting a new job is the same as manifesting

A billionaire status

Stop doubting something that’s so easy

Whether you manifest through The void or whatever other methods it is sooo easy

Quit victimizing and babying yourself and get it the fuck done

Ain’t nobody gonna do it for ya

It’s your life baby you write it design it however the heck you want it to be

I’m not one of those bloggers to be be like “it’s ok pookie if you fail🥹”

NO BITCH YOU CANNOT FAIL

THE VOID IS LITERALLY YOU

YOUR GORGEOUS SELF IS THE REASON WHY IT EXISTS AND YOU OVERCOMPLICATING IT FOR WHAT???

Ignore the 3D

It’s physical

The jeans you’re wearing right now or that hoodie

Is physical

You can change it up for you want

The 3D is that

It’s those jeans that hoodie those socks

Change it

If you don’t wanna wear it

THEN DONT

If you feel like you deserve better

ASSUME BETTER

LOOK IN THAT MF MIRROR AND TELL YOURSELF YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND YOU ALWAYS BEEN THAT BITCH NOBODY IS ABOVE YOU WE ALL FINE AS HELL

JEALOUSY FOR WHATTTTTT

BBY GIRL ITS ALWAYS BEEN YOU YOU ALWAYS BEEN THAT BITCH

YOU TOO PRETTY TO BE SAD YOU KNOW ABOUT THE VOID CUZ THE UNIVERSE SHOWED YOU YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE

ACT LIKE IT GIRL!!!!!!

THIS IS YOUR SIGN TO STOP READING AND GO GET THAT DREAM LIFE

LIKE TF YOU STILL READING FOR

TAKE YOU FINE ASS TO THE VOID AND GET WHAT YOU ALWAYS WANTED

WITH YOUR CUTE SELF😏

I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH

BUT STOP SAYING “hoW dO EnTEr tHE vOiD?”

👁️👄👁️

Bitch you just did

YOU ALWAYS DOOOOOO

Jesus peanut butter Christ

Cmon y’all

yOu HavE alWayS dONe tHis!!!!

Every time you go to bed

You’re detaching from the 3D(physical reality)

To be in the 4D reality

All you’re doing is becoming aware of it

Oh my god

How hard is that?!!!!

You’re killing me babes😔✋🏾

Please for the love of jell-o

Understand how easy this shizzz is

Bruh

You’re in the 3D void rn

I know that probably doesn’t exist but hear me out

You’re so attached to this reality right

Every day you are aware that you’re here living in this physical world as a physical being

This is like our 3D version of the void state

It’s not actually the void

But it’s like our state of awareness

Just in this 3D world

We’re aware that we are physical

So to shift your awareness to the 4D simply just

Be aware

Just like you’re aware now

“BUtt hoW dO sTaY aWAkE?”

Who said you gotta be sleepy??

Bitch you could do it rn if you really want to

It’s dumb to think you gotta be tired at to enter the void

NOOOOO

You literally are mentally awake

Your BODY is asleep

So why should you??

It’s different if you wanna tap into it WHILE asleep

Like waking up in it

But you don’t need to be dead tired to do it y’all

Listen bitch

You will never make it if you don’t claim your power and go get it

Stop wasting time stop assuming you fail or it’s hard

YOU DA POWERFUL ONE BABE

Sugar baby it’s all in your hands

You’re the God of your reality

Go make your life the way you want it

Quit spending hours trying to find methods to something to you naturally do every night with NO method

When you go to sleep

You are in the state of just being

You’re just sleep

When you’re awake you’re in the state of awakened awareness

You’re just awake and aware

Soooo in the void mix those two together in the void

Mentally Just BE

Physical Just sleep

Omg my new motto

The key to the void state is

“MENTALLY JUST BE

PHYSICALLY JUST SLEEP”

That’s it

That’s all

And If your favorite celebrities can manifest so can you

#law of assumption #void state #law of attraction #void #law of manifestation #manifesting #subliminals #manifesation #loassumption #loassblog #loa tumblr #loa blog #loa success #loablr #loa #law of the universe #guided meditation #meditating #meditation

[malereadermaniac]

Exploring ~ Rodrick Heffley x Male Reader

Bottom male reader smut! Mdni & Fdni!

Imagine weekly makeouts with Rodrick

Him coming over to your house to "do homework" and instead spending the whole Saturday with you in his lap, his tongue playing with yours as his hands rest on your hips

The two of you aren't dating or anything! You're just... exploring your sexualitites - it's perfectly natural as 18/19 year olds!

Kissing slowly becoming not enough to satiate the carnal desires Rodrick feels for you, soft grinding starting to come adjacent to the many hour-long, weekly makeout sessions

The rocker just can't get enough if the sounds you make as he rubs his hard dick against yours through his jeans. And you fucking love the low grunts Rodrick makes in your mouth as he kisses you or in your ear, along with a sexy groan of your name

Eventually, the two of you decided to take your sexual affairs to a new level - your parents had left you the house for two days and Rodrick's dick had hardened almost immediately when he found out

Your poor bed could barely fit the two of you, but you made it work

Rodrick above you, his muscles on full display as he slowly fucked into you turned you on to the max - he promised to go slow and he did, but mainly because he didn't want to cum in 5 seconds!

Your moans are what pushed the rocker over the edge. Your sweet and sexy sounds, along with your tight, warm walls, made the man shoot his load instantly

And from the way Rodrick panted and moaned above you, to the way he held onto your waist his his sexy, masculine, nail-painted and ring-adorned hands, jesus christ you came right away!

Over time, the two of you became more experienced; sex would last longer than the 15 minutes it took your first time, and you would both go for multiple rounds

You found out that Rodrick loves to have you suck his dick, look down at you as you cry from how huge his cock is, his pubes stuffing your nose as he softly caresses your cheek

The rocker had also become a huge fan of eating you out, after you taught him exactly how you like it, the man can't get enough of you! And the man has tricks too! He fingers your prostate to high heaven while eating you out and makes you cum within seconds!

All that to say that Rodrick's shape had pretty much indented into not only your ass but your bed - your parents were convinced that you two were dating from how often the man slept at yours!

But that doesn't mean you two don't mess about at Rodrick's house as well!

His Christian parents just make it a little harder to do so, that's why you pretend to be a part of his band

His parents don't know that Rodrick and you do it in his van every Sunday (lol)

Loud rock music playing from a radio to drown out the pornographic sounds that might escape the violently rocking van

It's safe to say the two of you have become addicted to one another; from your scents to your bodies to your voices, you fucking love all of Rodrick and he fucking loves all of you

So it wasn't much of a shocker when Rodrick randomly asked you to be his boyfriend one day, dick balls deep inside of you

You short-circuited and blue-balled him as punishment for making such a special moment so gross!

But later that day, you two made up and out, the night finishing with your typical make-out sesh and as boyfriend and boyfriend!

#gay #male reader #x male reader #fanfic #gay smut #light smut #rodrick heffley #rodrick x reader #rodrick x male reader #diary of a wimpy kid #bottom male reader #bottom reader #mlm ns/fw #mlm #x m!reader #doawk #doawk rodrick #m!reader

[prettygiri222]

Summary: you're a succubus looking for a new victim, unaware you've become one

Any character really x Black Fem Reader SMUT

as a succubus, you loved going for the frat boys. they were always so eager to get a pretty girl like you in bed promising you a good time. but you quickly turned into their worst nightmare, ripping orgasm after orgasm from their already spent cocks. 

"o-oh fuck! nomorenomore it hurts!" they would cry out. they would be spazzing out and twitching underneath you, arms struggling to get a good grip on your waist as you continuously rolled your hips against them. the friction against your clit was enough to draw your second orgasm of the night. but not enough to make you lose your mind. their heads would fall back into their flat pillows as you milked yet another orgasm out of them. 

“awh” you cooed at them mockingly. “is my baby boy too tired?” they would frantically nod, praying for you to get off them as if they weren’t the ones who begged you to get into their beds in the first place. they had come so much it physically hurt.

the intricately designed heart-shaped tattoo that covered your womb shimmered a dull pink as you absorbed their essence. it was your symbol as a succubus and kept track of your hunger. frat boys never kept you full for long, they were only enough to hold you off for a few days.

eventually, you moved on to the jocks. you had guys ranging from the football team to the basketball team to the soccer team. they had stamina, keeping you full for a few more days but something was still missing.

"you like that, huh?" they asked, slapping your ass. they loved doggy, watching the way your ass jiggled and the lack of intimacy. you could care less, always shoving your face into the pillows to hide your displeasure. 

their thrusts would get sloppy after their first orgasm and they often neglected your pleasure chasing their own release. but they did satiate your hunger a bit longer. your symbol glowing brighter.

due to your bias, you failed to notice the lust-filled eyes that watched your every move. he was just a regular guy, or that’s what you thought of him at first glance. he easily blended into the school’s crowds with his oversized sweaters and baggy jeans that didn’t do his sculpted body justice.

but he was infatuated with you the moment he laid eyes on your beautiful form. he loved how you always wore such slutty outfits. your short skirts that were the size of a belt. how he easily caught glimpses of the lacey panties and thongs you wore. the way your tongue piercing made an appearance when you licked your plump lips always coated in a sparkly gloss. and he loved that no matter how thick your shirts were your nipple piercing would always poke through.

but he was obsessed with the tramp stamp you had on full display. it was a deviated heart tattoo with devil wings and black ink that stood out boldly against your brown skin. the design intrigued him and with a quick google search he found out why. apparently, it was a succubus tattoo. you were a succubus. a demon obsessed with sex it drained men for their essence. 

he couldn’t lie, the idea of you being such a sinful creature was a fantasy he couldn’t get out of his head. he spent days jerking off to the thought of you appearing in his room just so you could drain him. just the thought of you was enough to have blood pooling to the head of dick, it left him nauseous. 

but he could never approach you. not when the faintest whiff of your sweet perfume made him pop boners like he was a sixth grader with a crush on his history teacher. you were like a walking aphrodisiac. he felt the room grow hotter anytime you entered, his pale skin flushing easily. it was honestly a shame how you didn’t notice this bundle of desire.

~

“oh fuck me” you grumbled in the back of the lecture. you opened your phone to a message from the 6’4 basketball player you were planning on linking later saying he had a late practice. you would’ve urged him to skip practice like you did last week but his coach was getting on his ass about missed practices. he said if he missed anymore he was going to be pulled from the starting lineup.

this was the problem with fucking athletes, you had to work around their schedules. you rolled your eyes at the message leaving it on seen. it’s been a week since you last had sex and you were starving. the only reason you held out this long was because this guy was one of your favourites. he didn’t eat pussy but he always made sure to have you creaming on his dick.

you let out a deep sigh. you were in trouble and you could feel it. despite not currently being aroused you felt yourself dampening the denim material of your skirt. the thick cotton of your turtle neck couldn’t hide your hardened nipples. 

as a succubus, you gain energy from sexual intercourse with men. but if you aren’t careful you could kill somebody by draining their energy completely. you feed off of their pleasure so it’s fine to neglect your own but where’s the fun in that?

when you starve you begin to give in to your sinful nature. you become the monster in folklore, the sex-hungry demon that feeds off of any and every man they come across. who fuck them to death, literally. but you didn’t want to become that monster. you enjoyed living among humans so you developed a consistent feeding system to avoid giving in to your monster.

you crossed your legs under your desk hoping to relieve yourself. regardless of being a succubus you had standards, you didn’t just fuck any and everyone. the professor was drawing on and on about an essay at the end of the week but it was the least of your worries. 

you briefly looked over the people in the class. there was no one in the class that stood out to you. you had attempted to hook up with a guy that sat next to you at the beginning of the year and it was the worst you’ve ever experienced. the guy was cute but he was a virgin. he didn’t know what to do and tried to insert his dick into your ass with no prep. that was the first and last time you went for someone who didn’t ooze sex appeal.

you were about to return your eyes to the professor when you locked eyes with him. your eyes widened in surprise at the intensity of his gaze. he was sitting a few rows behind you placing him in your blind spot. his eyes were dilated in an emotion you knew all too well, lust. 

he was completely out of it, he didn’t even notice that you locked eyes with him. you could feel yourself grow hotter at the attention. he was basically eye-fucking you, undressing you right there in the middle of a lecture. probably having his way with you on top of the desks in front of everyone in his daydream. a smile graced your lips, you had found your victim.

the second the lecture ended you threw your tote bag over your shoulder and made your way over to him, swaying your hips. he was focused on packing up his laptop but you saw him stiffen up the moment you got close. he shot a quick glance in your direction before standing pin-straight.

“excuse me” you softly called out from beside him. he looked around before pointing to himself. “yes you” you let a little giggle at his bashfulness. was he really the guy who had you flustered just a few minutes ago?

“oh uhm, hey” his voice squeaked when you pressed yourself against his arm. a blush rose to his cheek as he avoided direct eye contact with you. his eyes focusing on random students who were making their way out of the lecture.

“could you help me with something?” you asked in that perfected singsong tone yours. looking up at him innocently from beneath your lashes you pressed your soft tits against his chest. his adam apple bobbed as he quickly looked you up and down, eyes briefly stopping when he noticed your visible nipple piercings.

afraid his voice would betray him again he frantically nodded. you had him right where you wanted him. you shot him a dimpled smile before leading him out of the lecture hall and towards your dorm. he sucked in a sharp breath when you walked up the stairs in front of him. every step you top hiked up your already short skirt. you weren’t wearing anything underneath so your bald lips were on display.

you lived in a one-room dorm on campus but you never brought your victims over. you preferred to go over to their dorm but this was a dire situation. you needed to be fed. you hurriedly shoved him onto your bed.

“are you sure about this?” he whispered breathlessly. you had him sitting on the edge of your bed with his jeans pooled around his ankles and you were sitting on your knees in front of him.

"uhm" you mumbled half-heartedly. you were focused on stroking his dick. it was on the thinner side but it was pretty long. there was a vein on the underside that you traced while licking his tip.

“oh fuck” he let out a little whimper when you licked him all the way from the base to the tip before taking all of him into your mouth. he gripped your soft silk sheets in his sweaty palms trying to stop himself from bucking into your mouth.  you were grinding against your foot desperate for some stimulation.

the sensation of your tongue piercing on his shaft contrasting against your warm wet tongue almost made him cum. you traced his tip with the ball of your piercing, delighted with the way he shivered. “shit, it’s cold.” he whined.

you bobbed your head looking up at him feeling your wetness pool in between your legs. he was staring at you in awe as you slobbered all over him. your saliva running down his shaft and pooling at his base. your sparkly gloss was smudged all over your cheek.

you alternated between bobbing your head and licking his tip while you massaged his shaft with your hand. letting out an occasional hum when the tip of his dick reached the back of your throat. when you felt his legs tense up you knew he was close. 

“you’re like a fucking pro” he stretched out his hands and tangled his fingers in your mini twists. he pulled your hair back into a ponytail so he could get a better lock at you. “i knew your pretty ass was a -fuck- a slut”

you let out a whimper around his dick answering him. your pussy fluttering at his backhanded compliment. while you didn’t have a gag reflex the repeated action of his tip hitting the back of your throat caused you to tear up. your big lips were even plumper as they swole around his dick. he was getting harder just looking at your messed-up state.

he wasn’t ashamed to let out louder moans, letting you know it wouldn’t be long until he came. you stuck your tongue out while stroking his dick, his hot cum landing on it. his face was flushed with pink and his light eyes dilated as he watched you swallow his cum. you opened your mouth to show him proof, your pink tongue empty. “fuck, you’re so hot”

you felt your womb gleam with contentment but it wasn't enough. he was panting hard as you pushed him back on your baby pink sheets. you lifted your shirt off overhead, his eyes widened with the glimpse of your tattoo but you ignored his reaction, most guys just thought it was an obscene tattoo.

you stripped off your short skirt with haste, you wanted more. you hopped on the bed and straddled him. you balanced on your toes while you rubbed his dick between your lips coating it in your slick. you heard him suck in a breath at the sight of your glistening cunt.

"oh shit," you hissed out as you lowered yourself onto his dick. he closed his eyes, overwhelmed by your warmth. you pulled up his shirt revealing his broad chest. he let out a soft moan as you placed your cool hands on his pecs, steadying yourself.

"you're so cute," you cooed. you grinded against him forcing out his little sobs while stimulating your clit. you loved the way he easily blushed, the way his pale skin turned pink. 

"you're so good to me" he whined out, grabbing at the fleshy part of your hips. he was rolling his hips against yours desperate for more friction.

"yea?" you asked, wanting to hear more of his whiny voice. you lifted yourself up, removing everything but the tip of his dick before slamming back down. 

"yesyesyes" he was bucking up against you frantically, nailing you where you needed it the most. "always saw your pretty ass b-but -ohhh shit- could never talk to you." you angled yourself so he could continuously pound your spongy spots, too caught up to acknowledge his confession. it wasn’t long until he painted your insides white, your pussy clenching in satisfaction. 

you were a sight to see right now. he believed the sites when they said succubus had otherworldly beauty. if he thought you were pretty before you were utterly gorgeous right now. your brown skin was glowing in the dim lights and the way you bounced on his was magical. your tits jumped with every thrust, your eyes were glossed over and your pupils seemed to be heart-shaped. something he hadn’t noticed before.

but your tattoo was glowing. that had to be a telltale sign that you were a succubus. besides the mind-numbing pleasure you were putting him through. he was twitching from overstimulation and you were still bouncing on his dick. your pussy making delicious squelching noises as you bounced on him. 

“you’re so tight” he whined out. your tight hole was squeezing around him and it was so warm and wet. he was surprised he hadn’t slipped out yet. but you knew what you were doing, the way you skillfully rolled your hips providing pleasure to the both of you. you were quickly drawing him to another orgasm.

you bite your swollen lips as you focus on the growing sensation in your lower abdomen. you could tell he was close when you felt him twitch underneath you. “mhm, you close baby?” you called out to him. he nodded, way too lost in pleasure to find his voice as you drew him to another orgasm with you following close behind. your hips stuttered as a wave of pleasure washed over your whole body.

you rode him through both of your orgasms. a puddle of wetness and cum formed around the base of his shaft as proof. his eyes were closed and he breathed heavily, his chest heaving up and down. he looked a mess, there was drool around his mouth, his straight hair touselled and damp with sweat, his skin flushed a deep shade of pink and a thin layer of sweat shined on his face.

you had to forcefully stop yourself from bouncing on him further. you had to leave him with some energy to get home. you looked down at your tattoo watching as it glowed a dim pink while you absorbed his essence. you would be content for a day or two hopefully enough to give you a chance to hook up with your favorite basketball player. but you were far from satisfied.

you let out a deep sigh as you slowly rose off of him. he let out a whimper at the loss of your heat. you hopped off the bed looking for a towel while he remained lying down. 

“you can leave whenever you want,” you said nonchalantly. this is why you hated one-night stands at your dorm, it would get so awkward. you preferred fucking guys at their own dorm so you could disappear while they slept. but you were desperate.

you heard shuffling noises and assumed he was getting ready to go. but it got quiet and you felt a gaze burning against your naked form. you ignored him, continuing to gather items for your shower.

"i'm not done with you" a deep voice called from behind you. your eyes opened in shock as you looked back. he was standing right behind you, towering over you frighteningly. there was a dark look in his eyes as started you down.

“excuse me…” your mouth dried up when you looked down between you two. he was completely naked now and his dick was standing at attention, it was hard and it somehow seemed bigger than before. it was an angry red as pre-cum leak from the tip. you felt yourself grow wetter from his confrontation.

"i've been watching you for a while but you never looked my way. always batting those eyelashes of yours at those stupid frat boys and jocks, huh." he grabbed your jaw forcing you to look up at him. his jaw was clenched tight and he glared down at you. "bet you don't even know my name and we’ve been in the same class for almost a year now." his voice was hoarse as he looked into your eyes.

you meekly nodded. as a succubus who fed off of sexual energy you had to be ashamed for never noticing someone who was soaking in it. his light-coloured eyes were filled with so much emotion that it made your heart swell. a feeling you’ve never experienced with your sexual partners.

“don’t worry though, i’ll take good care of your slutty succubus pussy.” you froze in shock. “make sure you’re well fed.” 

Part 2 right here

Characters I had in mind while writing this:

ARMIN, Eren, Zeke, Jean, Geto, Choso, Megumi, anyone you want really

#anime smut #aot smut #x black reader #aot x black reader #black y/n #aot x reader #armin x black reader #eren x black reader #jjk smut #black reader smut #aot #jjk #jjk x reader #geto suguru #jjk choso #zeke yeager #jean smut #geto smut #choso smut #eren smut #armin smut #kinktober #jjk megumi #megumi smut

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who are obliviously in love.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: angst..? cussing, age gap, smut, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: enjoy and please let me know if you'd like a part two! i'm already writing it lol but i'd like to know anyways <3

here’s part two!

You’d always been good friends, taking to each other without much of a second thought after Oscar had introduced you two just in passing a few years ago—eight years ago, to be exact—at some party at his house.

New York, New York

September 4th, 2015

You were outside in the backyard, dressed far more casually than the occasion called for. It was a chilly night, and the music was blasting from inside the house.

You were tired from all the traveling, touring, and filming. You loved your job and were extremely grateful that things were working in your favor, but boy, did it leave you drained. You hadn't spent time with Oscar, or really any of your friends, in quite some time, so you thought a night out wouldn't hurt after working too much.

So there you were, enjoying the chill night air, when a familiar voice reached your ears.

“There you are!" Oscar said cheerfully, "I've been looking for you for like 20 minutes; I thought you left!" he continued, in a very dramatic manner, you must add.

You couldn't help but smile at his theatrics as you welcomed him with a hug. "Oh, I could never leave a party of yours without saying goodbye. You know I'm better than that." you speak softly, suddenly noticing another person behind him.

"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Pedro,” he says this as he turns to face Pedro. "He's a fan," Oscar says in a singsong manner.

Pedro is standing there with his cheeks flushed and a smile forming on his lips. Although part of you wanted to be cocky about it and torture him a little, you bit your tongue, not wanting to make this worse for him.

Of course you knew who Pedro was. And not because he was in two of the most famous TV shows at the moment; it was because Oscar and Sarah wouldn't shut up about him. In every conversation you had over the phone with either of them, Pedro's name always found a way to come up. It seemed that no matter how hard they tried, they could not hide their enthusiasm for him.

So to say you were interested in meeting him was an understatement. You wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

Before you could properly introduce yourself, Oscar's name was called from inside the house. "Alright, I'll leave you two to it." he says, "Please be nice to each other!" he yells as he walks back inside. You shake your head in amusement.

"You are more beautiful in person," Pedro says in his very captivating, deep voice, catching you by surprise.

Now you are the one with the flushed cheeks.

“I thought you were shorter," you say back, daringly. Although it was an honest comment, it was also a way to deflect attention from the fact that he just called you beautiful.

Pedro laughs loudly, as if you had just told him the funniest joke ever.

"I am not trying to be mean or rude; I really thought you were like 5'3." you continued, putting your hands inside the pockets of your jacket.

"So you know who I am?" he asks, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Yeah, I like to enjoy good television in my free time." you tell him, focusing on his face.

He was more beautiful in person, too. To your relief, he was dressed similarly to you. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, tucked into dark jeans that fit him in all the right places. His hair was a bit tousled, and his mustache looked like it had been recently groomed. He must be filming Narcos, you thought. You also noticed his kind brown eyes. He had a warmth and friendliness about him that was immediately apparent.

"Also, our friends don't seem to know how to shut up about you. You are quite the talk of the town lately."

Your words made him smile. He doesn’t say anything but narrows his eyes, and you can practically hear his thoughts clamoring around in his head. "Alright, back to me being short, " you rolled your eyes as he continued with his speech, "Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually 5'11." He takes a seat on one of the small couches that have been set up in the backyard, prompting you to follow suit and take a seat as well.

"Like I said, I didn't mean it in a bad wa—" he cuts you off before you finish your sentence. "Ah, don't worry about it. Plus, if you still think that's short, I'll make up for my height with my other great qualities."

You let out a small laugh, relieved that he didn't take offense to your remark. Again. You look at him and reply, "Oh, I can't wait to see these other great qualities."

The transition from acquaintances to close enough to hang out alone without friends was just as easy, and you quickly became an unlikely pair of sorts.

You did everything you could together. From having movie marathons whenever you both happened to be in the same city to visiting different coffee shops and ordering the same thing every time—you anything that involved caramel and him four shots of black coffee over ice—it felt as if you had known each other your whole lives.

You were inseparable, and it felt effortless, like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing for so long finally fitting just right.

Given that you were in a serious, long-term relationship when you met, the tabloids didn't dig too much. All of the articles referred to you as friends, which saved you from having awkward conversations or even thinking too deeply about the whole thing.

There was also the age thing. Pedro was older than you, so everyone just assumed you'd never go there. Your boyfriend at the time never questioned your friendship with Pedro, either.

However, you now wish he had. It would've implied he was concerned, which you now know he wasn't. He was busy with other things. You don't exactly remember when things started to fall apart between the two of you. But you do remember how it felt when you found out he was cheating. It felt like a gut punch. The fact that the whole world also knew it didn't make it any better, either. You felt completely betrayed and exposed, not just by your boyfriend but by the whole world that seemed to be privy to your pain.

As any rational person would, you succumbed to work. If you were working, you wouldn't really have time to deal with all the viscerally painful emotions that have flooded your body ever since everything went to shit. You kept filming, and you kept making music. Endless hours spent at the piano provided you with incomparable peace and tranquility. Who knew a life-altering breakup was what you needed to write the best music of your career? At least something good had to come out of this disaster.

Of course your friends and family helped you navigate this process as well. However, one person stands out above the rest: Pedro.

It's like he made it his life mission to put you back together. He'd call just to check up on you, tell you random stuff about his day just to keep your mind off things, ask what book you were currently invested in, or simply say he missed you because months had passed and you couldn't see each other because of work.

"What time is it over there?" he asks, his voice was hoarse, as if he had just woken up.

"1:30 AM," you reply, glancing at your phone, "we're still shooting some stuff."

He groans into the phone, "I fucking hate it when filming drags on for too long."

"Yeah, tell me about it." you say this as you were stretching your back. You had been filming since the afternoon; it was currently past midnight, and production was still going. To say you were exhausted was an understatement. "Alright, I'll text you later. My break's sadly over."

"Yeah, sure. Good luck, princesa."

In other circumstances, you two happened to be in the same place at the same time. The parties were the best part of awards season. The entire purpose of the parties was to campaign for whatever projects were gaining traction, but for you, it meant spending time with friends you hadn't seen in a long time and having fun.

That explains why, four cosmos down, you were dancing and laughing in the middle of the dance floor with some of your friends. Or maybe it was five cosmos down. Truth be told, you stopped counting after the second one. You weren't the type to get wasted, but your goal for the night was to have fun, and alcohol definitely helped with that.

You start to get a little tired from all the dancing, so you head to the nearest couch. Sitting next to Sarah, she opens her arms to embrace you. "My little dirty dancer!" she says loudly, making everyone around you laugh. "Oh shut up, can't a girl have some harmless fun?" you say, a smirk on your face. You glance around the room at the grinning faces and shrug.

"It's karaoke time!" Jen, your friend and hostess for the evening, announced cheerfully, "Who wants to go first?"

"Oh, fuck me," Pedro groans, dragging his hand down his face. "I hate karaoke. I hate it. I don't want to sing karaoke, and I don’t want to listen to people sing karaoke."

He's sitting across from you with a beer in his hand and looking a little more drunk than you were. You chuckle as you watch him slump against the back of the chair during his karaoke rant.

This was no secret; after the first few weeks, when you began to hang out more frequently, he made sure to let you know this very important piece of information. That's why you took pleasure in doing it solely to irritate him.

"I will go first." You say this while looking him in the eyes. He rolls his eyes and sighs, knowing that you understand exactly why he's been so adamant about it.

"Why do you like to torture me, kid?"

"I can't help it; you're fun to mess with, Pedrito."

Even though he hated karaoke, you knew you were the only person he enjoyed listening to. You could tell by the way his eyes lit up whenever you hit the right note, the way he'd shake his head and chuckle when you made a mistake, and the smile that crept onto his face when you'd finished the song. Despite this, he would never admit to enjoying it.

You were busy listening to some of your friends talk about how you didn't completely butcher your rendition of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" when hands landed on your waist from behind and you felt a hot breath on your neck. "That was terrible, mi amor."

Spinning around to face him as he straightens up, you spot his beautiful brown eyes. "When will you admit how much you enjoy my karaoke performances?" you try to pretend you're mad, but you can't help the corners of your mouth turning up in a smirk.

Pedro chuckles, his body vibrating against yours. He leans down, his lips barely brushing yours, his breath ghosting across your skin. "Never," he says, almost in a whisper.

Your body is buzzing from the proximity. No, it's the alcohol. Without a doubt, the alcohol. You're unbothered by the proximity. The same way you're unbothered by the way he's smiling down at you.

"You're insufferable," you say, keeping the conversation moving so you don't have time to spiral.

He brings his beer to his lips, smirking as he sips. "If by insufferable you mean utterly charming, then you are right."

Just like he made it his mission to put you back together after your life fell apart, sometimes it was your turn to put him back together, too. No matter how hard he tried to bottle up his feelings, you were always the one who could get through to him, able to make him smile or make him think with just a few simple words.

Pedro was no longer a mystery to you. He's a contradiction in motion. He withdraws into the distance that comes with fame, but he also wants to connect. Despite having a tendency to be open, he tends to hold a lot of himself back. He cares so much and yet he's also uncomfortable caring so much.

You were both in London for different reasons but were staying in the same hotel. One night, you decide to stop by his room before leaving for an event. You knock three times before he opens the door.

"Have you been crying?" you ask him, immediately concerned.

He is initially hesitant to respond, but eventually caves. "Well, yeah."

"What happened?"

"It's kind of pathetic, really."

"Then let's be pathetic together. Tell me." you respond as you push your way into the room.

"Prince died," he says, his voice hoarse from the crying.

"Pedro..." you say quietly, not really knowing what to say.

"I know, I know. It's stupid."

"Of course not." you quickly reply, "There's no shame in crying, I know how much you love him." you take a deep breath and approach him, offering him your hand. "C'mere, let's sit down."

You started lowering yourself to the floor, and he followed. "You don't have to do this...you look like you've probably got somewhere else to be."

"I've got nowhere else to be."

The two of you just sat there, not saying a word. You held him while he cried, his head on your shoulder as you ran your hand through his hair. If you could go and bring Prince back from the dead just so he wouldn't hurt like this, you would do it in a heartbeat. But you knew that was impossible, so all you could do was sit there and comfort him.

"You two should date."

"Are you out of your fucking mind, Sarah?"

"What!" she laughs. "You're basically dating already."

Since you hadn't seen each other in a while, Sarah had extended an invitation for you to have breakfast at her house. She had questioned you about your love life after discussing a number of other topics, and when you replied that you were still single, she made that absolutely ridiculous remark.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means," she says, almost giggling, "that you two are doing the things that couples do, like going on dates and spending time together."

"We don't go on dates," you quickly reply, "and I don't like him like that."

She rolls her eyes, unconvinced, and asks, "Why?"

"Because..." you trail off, "Because he's Pedro... and I am me."  Even though you were aware that what you were saying made no sense, you refrained from going into detail.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

"There's nothing to see, Sarah."

It was difficult to pinpoint the exact moment you first realized that occasionally, completely unprompted, your thoughts would turn to Pedro.

This was similar to how you two became friends without ever consciously choosing to do so. The mere thought of his loud, booming laugh and the way he beams at you when you crack a joke would make the corner of your mouth twitch into a small smile. Eventually, you understood that those thoughts of Pedro and the slight thrill they gave you were very different from friendship.

Yet you decided not to go there. You both enjoyed your friendship, and he never said or did anything to make you believe he felt otherwise. Or that was just a bunch of bullshit you came up with to not deal with it anyway.

You were friends, close friends, and you didn't want to jeopardize the best friendship you'd ever had by listening to that little voice in your head that occasionally whispered, "What if...?"

It wasn't until one night that everything changed. You're still unsure if it was for better or worse.

You were changing into far more comfortable clothes than you'd been wearing all day. It was finally Friday, something you were very grateful for since work had been nothing but tedious lately. You had the weekend off; it seemed like an eternity since you had been free for a couple of days.

As you slipped on your favorite and very worn-out t-shirt, your phone rang. "Ugh, what now?" you whined. You were suddenly regretting your words as you picked up the phone; his throaty voice filled your ears, and you felt instantly better. It was almost embarrassing.

"I heard you had a shitty week," he says, "I am coming over."

"How'd you know that?"

"The more important question here is why have you been in New York for days and didn't tell me? I'm actually hurt, love."  

"I know, I'm sorry, it's just been a little rough."

The guilt immediately washes over you. You knew that you should have called or even sent him a quick text, but your mind was only focused on getting through the week. It was like you were on autopilot.

"I will be there in 20 minutes." he replies, hanging up.

Without anything better to do, you decide to wash some dishes that have been sitting in the sink since last night while you wait for Pedro to arrive. You quickly finish that and then decide to pass the remaining time by reading a book you started a couple of weeks ago. You flip through the book's pages, trying to recall where you left off because the earmarked corner you'd marked seemed to have disappeared.

Before you can find the page, your cellphone screen lights up again, catching your attention out of the corner of your eye, and though it feels silly and childish, you can feel the way your heart leaps and your chest tightens just a fraction when you read the notification and see Pedro's name. "I'm here."

You rush to the door, flinging it open with a gust of energy, and you find him standing there, one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other holding a bag, a crooked smile on his lips. "I brought wine and takeout from that place you love down on 54th." It had been months since you'd last seen him, and it was like no time had passed at all. He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and you take the bag, allowing your eyes to meet his with a smile. Fuck.

As you set everything on the kitchen counter, you both decide to eat right away. The warm, inviting scent of the food spread throughout the kitchen, and it was as if all your worries and tiredness had disappeared. The conversation flowed perfectly as you both devoured the delicious food, and you were grateful for the moment of peace.

After finishing your meal, he helps you collect everything and clean up the kitchen.

"You’ll get wrinkles if you keep working that hard, mama," he tells you as he throws something in the trash can, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Don't call me that," you giggle, a little tipsy from the wine. "It makes me feel—" you stop yourself before you finish the sentence. Fuck.

"It makes you feel what?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

Well, it makes you feel embarrassed, as if you have let your guard down and revealed too much of your innermost thoughts. And it gives you butterflies. But you don't tell him that. "Nothing," you say, "it's just funny."

You knew you didn't have it in you to keep your thoughts, body, and face under control, especially when he was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded, looking like he just stepped out of a movie. You were feeling exposed and vulnerable, as if your thoughts were written all over your face, so you did what you do best: you changed the subject.

"Remember that one time we got high on edibles to go see The Incredibles 2?" you blurt, hoping he would forget what just came out of your mouth. He looked at you for a moment, as if he were considering your question, before bursting out in laughter.

"How could I forget?" he says. "It's one of our finest moments."

"Would you like to repeat the occasion?"

"Don't threaten me with a good time, baby."

You go to one of the kitchen drawers and pull out the box of cookies. "I can't believe you're offering me drugs." Pedro says in a dramatic tone.

"Oh shut up, do I need to remind you whose idea it was last time?" you roll your eyes, grabbing two cookies and throwing one at him.

"Should we honor last time and watch a movie?" he says as he takes a bite of the cookie.

To be entirely honest, you should have known that things were about to go off the rails the very moment the man at the other end of the couch, in that impossibly confident and seductive voice, asked you to come closer. "You're miles away from me, princesa."

If you had been wise, you would have politely declined. If you had any sense of self-preservation when it came to Pedro, you would have declined his offer and avoided thinking about him fucking you into this very couch. But you weren't wise, which is why your legs are thrown over his lap and his fingers are drawing circles in your thighs. Pedro’s gaze feels like a caress, and his voice is thick, "You look like you're thinking too hard."

"What?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"I said you looked like you were thinking too hard." he replies, "What's running through that pretty head of yours?"

Your teeth are tugging at your bottom lip in a way that Pedro seems to find distracting because he nearly slips up and breaks the carefully maintained eye contact, his gaze darting down just a fraction of an inch. You don't know where the courage came from, but you lean in on your elbows, lifting yourself from the laying position you were in, closing the gap even further until it's impossibly small.

You can tell you know what you've been doing when you pause with only a breath of space between your mouth and his, worrying at your lip with the intention of getting him to break first, like you’re challenging him to decide where this goes next. "What do you think I'm thinking about?" you finally reply, your gaze not wavering for a second. Pedro's hesitation is just a second before his mouth parts, leaning in just enough to touch your forehead and close his eyes.

"I think you're thinking about all the wrong things we could be doing right now instead of watching this boring movie."

"I think you're correct."

His lips curl into a smile, pulling away only slightly to look you in the eye, his voice barely above a whisper, "Can I kiss you?"  

And that's when it happens. You lean in, your lips slamming into his so quickly that your thumb gets caught in the middle. He nips at it, biting down a little harder than he wanted to, but you don't mind and simply move it out of the way, sliding it away from his mouth and resting it across his cheekbone. You straddle his lap, and as his hands find their way to your waist and his lips move ever so hungrily against yours, you feel a fire inside.

Everything is happening so fast, and the room is spinning around you. You're not sure if you're feeling this way because of the drugs or because of Pedro. You can feel the pressure of his hands against your skin and a warmth radiating through you; all you know is that you don't want it to end. As you begin to grind against his hard on, he moves his hands to your ass and grips it tightly.

"You like that, hm?" he rasps, between kisses. You moan in agreement, and one of his free hands travels up your body to the nape of your neck and squeezes it tightly. You gasp at the sensation and move your body to match his movements, pushing yourself closer against him.

It's rough and messy. You're both desperate, as if you've been waiting your entire lives to do this. Pedro's hands covered your entire body, and his mouth kissed your neck and mouth roughly, as if trying to make up for the years of anticipation.

"Fuck, P," you moan; he wasn't giving you even a second to breathe.

"Tell me what you need, princesa."

"I need you to touch me."

"Your wish is my command."

Pedro moved quickly, his fingers caressing and teasing your body as he worshipped you with each touch until he finally reached your shorts.

He slides his hand down your panties and groans. "I haven't even touched you properly, and you're already wet, baby." His fingers pressed down softly as he moved around your clit, rubbing and massaging it until you felt yourself close to the edge. He manages to get his free hand under your shirt, and he massages your breasts, pinching your nipples softly as you moan in pleasure.

"Are you gonna come for me, princesa, hm?"

"Y-yeah..." you gasp, not even ashamed of how quickly your orgasm was approaching, "I can't... hold it..."

He took that as a sign to go faster and harder, and as he continued to draw circles on your clit, a wave of pleasure swept through your body, culminating in a moan that signaled your impending climax.

"Fuck!" you screamed as you came suddenly, body trembling and hips bucking once more. Pedro let out a groan at the sight and sounds you were making. You're both gasping for air, one of his hands on one side of your face, your foreheads touching.

And that's when it happens. Instant regret.

Oh my god.

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

What have you done?

reblog or like if you enjoyed it!

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #my writing

[coldfanbou]

After Shoot Pleasure

I had a thought. what if, Natty, but Daddy kink.

Length 2K

Natty X Mreader

You had a good life being the manager of Kiss of Life. The girls were fantastic and treated you well. Despite the looks of Natty and Julie, they were sweet and, as you learned, submissive. Initially, Natty seemed more of a dominant woman, but after one night together, you had her figured out, and you learned her kinks. You ended up creating a different kind of relationship with her. You were waiting in their dressing room; the shoot they were doing was taking some time, and you wanted to rest. You stayed for a while, thinking they would come through the door anytime.

Natty came into the dressing room after finishing her part of the photo shoot, happy upon seeing you inside. “Do you like my outfit?” Natty beamed you a smile as she waited for praise. Natty’s outfit consisted of blue fishnet leggings, a jean skirt, and a tight-fitting tube top. She was given a red coat to put over the top, but that wasn’t your choice. 

“Of course I like it. I did choose it, after all.” Natty’s eyes opened wide for a moment before looking around the room. 

“Daddy, you don’t expect me to do it here, do you?” She hugs you, pressing her mounds against your body. “It’ll be too embarrassing. What if someone sees us?” 

You tilt Natty’s head back and press your lips against hers. Your other hand snakes its way down her body until it's under her skirt. You slide your fingers along her folds through her panties, feeling them become wet. Natty moans into the kiss, her eyes closing as she becomes more aroused.“If I want you, I’ll take you. You’re not going to say no, are you?”

“No, Daddy.” She coos, her eyes fluttering open. “Can I have another kiss? Please?” You kiss Natty again, your tongue invading her mouth. She wraps her arms around your neck. You squeeze her ass before lifting her into the air. You hear her laugh. “Daddy, put me down.” 

“Are you going to help me then, Natty?” You say as your bulge presses against her. Natty grows shy, chewing on her fingertip as she looks at you.

“Can’t we do it at home, Daddy? I don’t want anyone to see me. My body is only for your eyes.” You get harder because of her words, and Natty knows it. 

“I want you now, sweetheart.” You say as you begin grinding her against you. Natty mewls and brings herself closer to you as you walk toward the door with her. You lock the door before heading to the opposite side of the room. “Now, no one will bother us.” You plant your lips on Natty’s neck, gently sucking on it. She begins to grind against you, her hips rocking back and forth. 

“Daddy,” She moans. Natty pushes her chest out; it taps against yours. 

“Do you want me to play with your tits again?” Natty gives you a shy nod. She grabs the top of her shirt and pulls it down, revealing her big tits. Hard brown nipples topped the tan mounds. You lean down, taking one in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the small nub. Natty held your head, whimpering as she felt your tongue flick her nipple.

“Ah, Daddy, not so rough.” Natty felt your hands digging into her ass. You relax your grip and stop playing with her nipple for the moment.

“Natty, I need you to take care of me too.” You put her down, and Natty gets onto her knees. She stares at your bulge, her hands slowly moving toward it. You feel her hand rub it through your pants before she manages to fish it out. Natty’s smooth hand slides along your shaft as she looks up at you. “That’s it, Natty.” You groan, moving her hips.

Natty plants a gentle kiss on the tip of your cock. She gives you a sweet smile after, “I’ll take good care of you, Daddy.” Continuing to stroke your cock, Natty sticks her tongue out, swirling it around the head as she finally takes it in. Her mouth was warm, and her tongue hit just the right spots. You pat Natty’s head, your thumb moving across her head as you moan her name. It made Natty smile; her eyes were glued to your face, taking in every detail. 

“You’re so good, baby. Let’s see you take in a little more.” Natty gave a slight nod and slid more of your cock into her mouth. She moved her hand down to your balls, massaging them as her lips wrapped tightly around your shaft. She pulls away for a moment, one of her hands moving under her skirt. 

“Can I touch myself, Daddy?” She asks, hitting you with puppy eyes. 

Your hand traces Natty’s head until you cup her cheek. She nuzzles it, giving you a bright smile. “I’ll let you touch yourself, Sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” Natty slides your cock into the back of her throat, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she rubs her clit. Natty’s saliva leaks from the corners of her mouth, running down her face. Natty’s moans mix with yours, filling the room. Natty moves down, using her rig and index finger to spread her lips as her middle finger teases her pussy. You begin to move your hips, pushing and pulling your cock out of her mouth. You groan, enjoying yourself as Natty uses her fingers. You could feel your orgasm cumming, and begin slowing yourself down.

You switch from quick movements to long, slow ones. Natty’s tongue moved from side to side; she wasn’t satisfied leaving it along the underside. When your cock sits in the back of her throat, she hums, giving you more pleasure. You hold the back of Natty’s head, reveling in the pleasure she’s providing you. You begin to pull out; once the tip is out, Natty gives it a small kiss. You take a step closer, rubbing your cock against her face. “Daddy, you’re making me dirty,” Natty complains, placing her hands on your cock to stop you. “I don’t want to clean up after this.” She says with a pout. 

You chuckle, “Aw, my sweet little girl doesn’t want Daddy to get her dirty?” You lend Natty a hand and get her onto her feet before moving your hand to her lips. Natty gasps as she feels your fingers moving along her lips. “You’re already a mess down here.” 

“It’s your fault I’m like this, Daddy.” Natty grasps your cock, stroking it slowly. “Anytime I get a taste of this, I get wet, and my body gets hot. You have to take responsibility, Daddy.”

“I’ll take responsibility, Natty.” You lean in close, “I’ll make sure to ruin you.” You push your fingers inside Natty, feeling her warm walls clamp down on your fingers.

“Daddy!” Natty whines as she feels your fingers curl inside her. Her knees get weak, and she has to hold onto you.

“Get to the couch.” Natty grabs your cock and walks to the couch, sitting down. “Not like that, Sweetie.” You grab Natty, move her outside, and place one of her legs onto the armrest. You get behind Natty. “Don’t worry, Sweetie. I’ll make sure we both feel good.” You take off the belt and unzip her skirt, throwing it to the side. You run your hands along her thighs, feeling her skin underneath her fishnets.  Natty’s panties matched the color of her fishnets; you tease her about it, annoying her. You rub your cock against her folds; they coat your cock in her nectar.

“Are you going to put it in Daddy?” Natty pushes her ass against you. You press your hands against it before giving it a quick slap. “AH, Daddy!” 

“You have to be a good girl and be patient.” You tell her as you continue to tease her pussy. You reach over and grab one of her tits, squeezing it in your hand. Natty’s whine was music to your ears. Her tits were soft and jiggled with the slightest movement. You focus in on her nipple, pinching it lightly. “I’m going to put it in now, Natty. I hope you're ready.” You place your cock against Natty’s entrance and push in. Her lips are pushed apart by your cock as you move inside. Natty’s mouth forms an o as she lets out a guttural moan. 

“You’re so big, Daddy.” She says as you continue to shove more of your cock inside. You groan, Natty’s walls squeeze your cock as you fill her. You move your hands to Natty’s hips; you stop for a second before suddenly ramming the rest of your length inside. Natty covers her mouth as she moans. It barely muffles it. You spank Natty, the loud smack making her yelp. “Daddy, wait.” She moans. You move your hips back, pulling your cock out before driving your cock back in. Natty holds her moan in as you start thrusting. You move your hands up to her tits, groping them. Natty lets her moans out, unable to hold them any longer. “Ah, I feel so good! I’m gonna go crazy.” Natty places her hands over yours, helping you squeeze her tits. The clapping of your body speeds up. As you thrust into Natty faster, she pushes herself against you. Natty’s walls clamp down on your cock, “Daddy, I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum.” She mumbles.

“Not yet, Sweetie. Hold it.” Natty whines in response. She places her hands on the couch, trying to support herself as you continue to ravage her. You pull her nipples and kiss the back of her neck as you feel your orgasm building back up. “I’m going to cum soon. I’m going to put it inside you.”

“I love you, Daddy. Cum inside me.” Natty looks over her shoulder. You lean in and kiss her, your lips meddling together as you bury yourself inside Natty and flood her cunt. Your cum paints her walls white as you pour more inside. “D-daddy.” She mutters, feeling your warm thick cum fill her.  Natty’s walls clamp down around your cock, milking you for more. Natty’s body twitched as she went through her orgasm. You toyed with her nipples at the same time, making her shudder. You pull out slowly and take a seat on the couch. Natty sits on the floor by your leg, her chest heaving as she catches her breath. You pull Natty closer, tracing her lips with your cock.

“Are you going to help me clean up?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Natty says, still out of breath. She weakly grabs your shaft, stroking it. Natty moves her lips across your shaft, covering them in your cum. You watch as it drips down her chin and onto her breasts. Natty swallows the head of your cock, her tongue swirling around it as she cleans you.  She bobs her head, slowly taking in more. Natty begins to finger herself as she cleans you up. Placing your hand on her head gets her attention. She looks up at you with tired eyes. You give her a soft smile and pat her head.

“You’re such a good girl, Natty.” Natty gives you a hum of approval as she continues to suck you off. Once you’re clean, Natty begins to pull away from you.  She kisses the tip of your cock before climbing onto the couch and laying her head on your lap. 

“I’m going to sleep here, Daddy.” Natty shuts her eyes only to open them when she hears knocking on the door. 

“Hey! Natty, let me in!” You motion for Natty to get the door, and she pouts at you before opening it. She heads back to your lap, not caring about Julie seeing her in such a state. “You started without me?” Julie says while looking at you. “I was looking forward to it,” Julie says with the biggest frown you have ever seen. She shuts the door behind her before sitting on your other side. “You’re going to have to make it up to me, Daddy.”

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #kiss of life smut #natty smut

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I tell a couple I'm a mistress for both of them?

this is a long one and a very weird situation but here we go. I (28F) have been seeing two people recently. I've been seeing C (30F) for a little over 5 months and M (29M) for almost 6 months. both relationships are currently in a state of non-commitment, even though I've expressed feelings in both relationships and theyve been reciprocated, but I'm naturally not a super commitment-focused person and both of the people I'm seeing have respected that a lot, so yeah.

anyways, both relationships have been great and I'm incredibly happy w them, and since neither are committed to me I've kind of just assumed that both C and M were likely seeing other people as well even if we haven't talked about it.

WELL. about a week ago C came over to my place to spend the night, which she does like once a week or every other week. she goes to take a shower and I start gathering laundry and grab her stuff to throw in with mine and take her phone out of her jeans. I glance at the screen and see a few texts from a contact called "my love <3"

I was kinda surprised by this because while not talking to me about casual relationships is not something I would care about, the contact name made me think she had a more serious relationship going on, which I don't mind but would like to be informed about.

soooo okay I did an admittedly asshole thing and read the text. and then read a few more. and it became apparent that this was a REALLY committed relationship. like, I love yous, I'll be back home soon, please remember to grab so and so from the grocery store, stuff like that.

the contact picture looked kind of familiar too so I clicked on it to see better and it ended up being a picture of M.

I kind of flipped at this bc this is kind of a ridiculous situation, and I left my apartment for some air. I came back like 30 minutes later and C was waiting for me and confused where I'd been (she didn't see/hear me leave since she was still in the shower).

I apologized to her for looking at her phone but told her that I saw the texts from her partner, and that I was feeling kind of hurt that she hadn't told me that she had a more serious relationship going on, since she knows I value transparency. I specifically did not mention that I was also dating M or knew who he was because I felt I needed to scope out the situation more.

she ended up breaking down in tears and spilled everything. told me that M is her husband, that he doesn't know she's been seeing me, that shes felt so conflicted and guilty because she loves him but has really grown to love me too, that she feels wrong and dirty for keeping everything secret. I'm upset that I've been made into a mistress without knowing, but I try to talk to her about everything, we end up staying up super late talking and crying and pouring our hearts out. I still don't mention that I'm dating M too because I feel like I need to talk to him about this before any big decisions are made on my part.

I ended up inviting M to stay at my place a few nights later, and I confront him about the fact that I know he has a wife (made up something about my friend seeing them out together) and ask why he's kept this from me. his reaction was really similar. guilt, not understanding why he's attracted to two people at once, saying he very deeply loves C and doesn't want to leave her but really loves me too, says he's confused and doesn't know what to do. I don't mention to him that I know C or that I'm dating her.

I asked him if he's heard of polyamory before, and he said yes but he doesn't know anything about it really. I ended up encouraging him to maybe talk to his wife to see if that's something she'd be interested in, but he was terrified that she'd be hurt by the suggestion.

I really do love both of them and don't want to leave them. I've been poly for a long time and am very familiar with navigating ethical non monogamy, and to me this feels a lot like two poly people struggling to come to terms with and accept a facet of their sexualities, and they're just navigating that confusion and self discovery in ways that are...not great. but, I want to give them grace for their mistakes I guess?

so this is the part where I think I might be the asshole if I go thru with it. I've talked with both C and M separately about talking to their spouse about what's been going on and about polyamory in general, and they're both fucking terrified and really don't want to. so, I was thinking of inviting them both to my place at the same time to hash it out (without telling them that the other person will be there, since they still don't know I'm dating both of them). I think once they realize they've been dating the same person things might be easier to navigate, and will force them to confront what's been going on?? but also idk if springing this on them is the best thing I could do, but I really have no idea how to navigate this differently.

to be frank, if they love each other and both love me, my ideal outcome is that we continue things as they have been but with no secrecy and 100% transparency. I'm also afraid that even though they've both been seeing the same person and have expressed interest in polyamory after talking about it with me, they might feel personally betrayed by each other and everything could backfire spectacularly, AND I could possibly explode their whole marriage.

so, WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[thetriumphantpanda]

she a bad lil bitch, she a rebel | joel miller

Summary | Joel has to teach you a damn lesson, just like always.

Pairing | Brat Tamer!Joel x F!Reader

Word Count | 4K

Warnings | brat tamer!Joel, softdom!Joel, praise kink, implied age gap, spanking, use of rope restraints, hair-pulling, edging, orgasm denial, squirting, (1) singular pussy slap, unprotected PiV sex, rough sex, oral sex (M&F receiving), face-fucking, fingering, dirty talk, breath play, biting, cum play/cum eating, reader is a bratty menace, aftercare(!), no use of y/n.

Authors Note | All I'm going to say is this came to me in a dream and I had to get it down on paper. Mostly written on my phone with very little proofreading, so any mistakes are my own and I will live and die by them. This is basically just pure filth. Enjoy, and happy birthday to that old man. I love him but I would give him the hardest time, just like reader.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

If there was one thing that you lived for, it was pushing Joel Miller’s patience. The poor man had wandered into Jackson, little girl in tow, looking worn and weary almost a year ago, and from the moment you set eyes on him, you just knew you had to give this old man a run for his money. 

You’d started subtle, flirting with him on patrol, taking his distaste at your attempt to talk to him at every second as a personal challenge to break him, to work him down just enough to make your move. After a couple of weeks, he’s started talking, mainly in single word answers, but you’d managed to slowly chip him down. 

Then came the weekly drinks at The Tipsy Bison, everyone on patrol usually went, apart from those scheduled to be out that day, but he’d started laughing at your jokes and had even opted to sit next to you on occasion. Then one night, he’d walked you home, you’d had one too many glasses of whiskey, kissed him on the porch but agreed it wasn’t right to fuck right then, but he’d come back, that next night, both of you sober, and you’d kissed him again, and the rest really was history. 

It’s late afternoon when he comes through his front door, toeing his boots off as the door slams behind him. You’ve been led on his couch for most of the afternoon, reading a book you’d plucked from his shelf – some nonsense Western that did nothing to keep your attention, but was enough to keep you occupied whilst you waited for him to come home. 

“Afternoon,” You sing to him as he shrugs his jacket off, hanging it on the coat stand near the door, “Good patrol?” 

“Was fine,” He grumbles, just like he always does, he swats at your legs to get you to move them enough for him to sit down, “Scoot,” You lift them up just long enough for him to ease himself onto the couch, before you put them back down on his lap, abandoning the book on the coffee table, “You sort the stuff in the kitchen like I asked?” 

“No.” You say simply, shaking your head, subtly digging the heel of your foot into the front of his jeans. 

His big palm circles your ankle, gripping in warning, “What about the sheets, you wash ‘em?”

“Did you see them pegged out when you came home?” You ask, sweetly, using your other foot now to dig into his jeans. 

“Will you fuckin’ quit it?” He seethes a little, other hand gripping your other ankle to still you, “What have you done all day, huh?” He implores, “I don’t keep ya around to lounge about lookin’ pretty.” 

You chuckle, “That’s exactly why you keep me around, old man.” 

“Shut up,” He squeezes at your ankles, “I asked you a question, you gonna answer me?” 

You shrug, “Woke up late,” You hold up one finger, “Felt horny so I got myself off,” Another finger, “Had a shower, used the last of that nice soap,” Another finger, “Made lunch,” Another finger, “And then led here reading one of your stupid books until you came home.” A final finger raised so you’re holding up and entire hand, palm facing towards him. 

You’re looking at him, all scowling face and dark eyes as his fingers wrap even tighter around your ankles. If you didn’t know him like you did, you’d be frightened, but you know he’s just thinking about the best way to deal with you. You wonder which of his lessons he’s going to bring out today as the look he’s giving you shoots straight down to your core. 

“I ask you to do two things,” He sighs, like he’s tired, “I ain’t exactly expectin’ slave labour from you, and you sit here and treat it like the Hilton?” 

“What’s the Hilton?” You ask, genuinely curious, thinking it must have been something from the times before all this, the times you were too young to remember. 

“Forget it.” He growls, and you think any minute now he’s gonna move to drag you off and show you just how bad you’ve been, but he doesn’t move, just sits with your ankles clasped in his hands, staring at the wall in front of him. 

“I’ve been so bad Joel,” You goad, trying to wriggle your ankles free, “Aren’t you going to teach me a lesson?” 

“No,” He spits, “I ain’t, because you like it too damn much, ain’t teachin’ you anythin’ because you never learn.” 

You pout a little, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “Promise to listen real hard this time Joel,” You promise, “Try and learn and much as possible.” 

“No,” He speaks, stern tone, with a warning squeeze to your ankles again, “Been a long day, don’t have the energy to bring you into line.” 

“Ah, I see,” You muse, “You’re feeling too old today.” 

“What did you just say t’me?” He’s incredulous now, good, you’ve got him just where you want him. 

“Oh, nothing,” You giggle, “Don’t worry.” 

It seems to do the trick though, because he’s pushing himself up from the couch, gripping at your wrist now to pull you up as well. He pushes you gently by the small of your back to get you to walk in front of him, “Upstairs.” Is the only instruction he gives, along with a playful swat to your bottom as you start up the stairs. 

He’s crowding behind you, always following just one step behind as you make your way to his bedroom, suddenly aware that you didn’t make the bed when you rolled out of this morning. That’s surely another black mark to your name, you think, as he sits down on the edge of the bed. 

“Get undressed.” 

This is new, normally Joel liked to be the one to unwrap you, but you start working on the buttons of your shirt, undoing it and dropping it to the floor, followed closely behind by your jeans, leaving you standing in front of him in your underwear, “All of it.” He demands. 

Your hands shakily reach behind you to unclasp your bra, dragging it from your body to land with the rest of your clothes. You drag your panties down your legs and step out of them, wrapping your arms across your chest to try and cover yourself a little. Joel reaches out a hand to you, which you take timidly, expecting him to pull you into him so he could put his mouth on you, anywhere, but instead, you find yourself pulled to him and folded over his lap so quickly you let out a surprised yelp. 

“So fuckin’ naughty, all the damn time baby,” He speaks softly, running his fingers down the length of your spine, “Don’t ever think you’ll learn how to be good.” 

His hand trails down to your bare ass, gripping the skin with his hands, using his other arm to press you down into his lap, rough material of his jeans rubbing against the sensitive peaks of your tits and the soft skin of your tummy. He rubs his rough palm over the globes of your ass, anticipation building in your body. Then, he pulls away, bringing his palm down onto your ass with a satisfying ‘smack’ ringing through the air. It takes a while for your brain to catch up with what’s just happened, but then the stinging sensation settles across your skin and has you wriggling to get away. 

“Keep still,” Joel chastises, free hand digging further into the small of your back to keep you from moving, “That’s one, how many do you think you deserve baby?” He muses, “Fifty?” 

“W-what?!” You exclaim, “N-no Joel, that’s too much.” 

“Forty then?” His palm is cradling at the skin he’s just spanked. 

“T-ten?” You offer feebly. 

“Oh baby girl,” He tuts at you, “Aim higher.” 

“Fifteen?” 

“How about we settle for twenty, baby?” He asks, all soft and sweet, “Twenty seems reasonable to me.” 

He doesn’t give you time to agree, it would seem the bargaining time is over, as he brings his palm back down onto your ass, harder than before, but in the same exact place. It jolts you on his lap, makes you cry out. The front of your body dragging against his denim. 

“How many?” He asks, rubbing his hand over the skin he’s just spanked. 

“Two.” You reply quietly, trying to keep the whimper you want to let out to yourself. 

“Good girl,” He praises, raising his hand again, “Keep count for me, okay?” 

Smack.

“Three!” You shriek, as his palm yet again connects with that same patch of skin. 

Smack.

“F-four.” 

Smack.

“Oh fuck,” You groan, trying to wriggle away unsuccessfully, it’s already too much, “Five!”

Smack.

This one doesn’t hurt as much; Joel’s shifted the assault of his palm onto the virgin side of your ass for you. You suck in a deep breath, try and blink away the tears that have formed in your eyes, as his hand massages where it’s just struck. He gives you another four on that cheek, and then switches back to the original, bringing his palm back down onto the skin that you’re sure is reddening by now. 

“Joel!” You cry out, tears dropping from your eyes now, but your body betrays you and arches your back for him, pushing your ass up like you’re asking for it, “E-eleven.” 

It carries on like that, five spanks to each cheek until you’re practically sobbing over his lap. You count the twentieth spank and a feeling of relief washes over you as he bends over you to press a light kiss to the sore skin he’s left. It makes you hiss, the contact, no matter how gentle he is with it. Then, he’s shifting you off his lap and onto the bed, letting you scurry away to the top of the mattress as he stands. 

The stinging of the skin of your ass is still making you sniffle as Joel shuffles to the bedside table, digging around in it. You’re not quite sure what he’s looking for, focusing mainly on trying to keep the red raw skin of your ass off the sheets, when he stands, throwing what he was looking for onto the sheets next to you. You turn your head and see the length of rope that he keeps in his drawer just for moments like this. 

“Arms up.” He short with you, sitting on his knees next to you. 

You do as you’re told, raising your arms above your head, still pushing your ass off the bed, but knowing soon enough you’ll be focused on something else that isn’t the stinging sensation of your ass. He takes your wrists and binds them together deftly, like it’s a walk in the park for him, like it’s something he does all the time. Then, once he’s sure your wrists are safely encased in rope, he takes the other end and ties it to his bed frame. He tugs slightly to make sure the way he’ll have you thrashing soon means that you won’t be able to pull yourself free. 

“That okay?” He asks gruffly, to which you nod, “Words, baby.” 

“Y-yes,” You stammer, “It’s okay.” 

“Remember your word?” He asks, stepping off the bed to partially undress, shucking his jeans and flannel off, but keeping his t-shirt and boxers on. 

“I remember.” 

He hums in approval, settling himself on the bed between your thighs, using wide palms to spread you open for him. You’re absolutely soaked, pussy dripping with slick from his palms and the way he’s trussed you up to his bed. 

Joel lets out a low whistle, letting his thumb rub up the length of your folds, “See,” He murmurs, using his thumb to gently spread the lips of your pussy to reveal your clit, already swollen and begging for attention, “Told ya that ya liked being punished too much,” He lets his thumb make a single swipe over that bundle of nerves, chuckling as you cry out, hips bucking to try and follow his finger, “She’s already fuckin’ soaked for me, baby.” 

You let out a high-pitched mewl, a begging sound that you hope tells him that you need him to touch you, you need to feel the pleasure you know he’s capable of after the pain he’s just inflicted. Mercifully he obliges, pressing the calloused pad of his thumb back to your clit, slick gathered there from before, as he starts rubbing in fast, precise circles. You’ve been so worked up that you can already feel the coil tightening in your tummy, and you know Joel can sense it as well, the way your hips are moving in time to his movements and the way you’re arching your back off the bed are a dead giveaway. 

You can feel yourself reaching that peak, so fucking close to tipping over the edge when he tears his hand away from your core and sits back, watching as you try and move back towards him, moaning in frustration at being left high and dry. You’re wriggling about, trying to close your thighs to rub them together to get yourself off, when he pushes a wide palm into your belly. He’s so powerful in the best way, stilling your movements immediately as you look up at him, face serious. 

“Remind me what the second thing on your list was this mornin’, baby?” He asks, voice as innocent as pie. 

You’re wracking your brain, lust making you more confused about what the fuck he’s even talking about. Then it dawns on you, what you’d told him downstairs. Felt horny so I got myself off. 

“You’ve got a big brain baby,” He coos, one palm squeezing your thigh, “I know you remember, so go on, tell me what you did.” 

“I g-got myself off.” 

“And is that what good girls do?” He asks, hand ghosting back to your pussy, knuckles of his hand brushing over your skin there. 

“N-no?” You question. 

“That’s right,” He hums, fingers slipping between your folds once more to gather some of the insane amount of slick that’s pooling at your aching entrance, “And besides, gettin’ to come is a reward, and I ain’t sure you deserve that right now.” 

His thumb is back on your clit now, moving in exactly the same way as before, with just the right amount of pressure to be building you back up. It feels so fucking good already and you know the way it feels when he tips you over the edge, you know how delicious it is and God, you want it so bad. 

“Please Joel,” You beg, all throaty and lust-filled, “I’ll be so good, I promise.” 

“Maybe ya should’a thought about that earlier,” He growls, “Before you came without me, thought you could do it better than me, huh?” 

“No!” You exclaim, because that’s definitely not true, you could never make yourself feel the way he does, “Oh God, please Joel.” You’re so fucking close, just a few more passes of his thumb and you could do it, you know you could, but so does he, which is why he’s tearing his thumb away from you again. 

You actually cry now, tears of frustration building in the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you thrash around on the bed, hissing when the rope around your wrist digs in but not caring all that much. 

“Quit your cryin’.” He chastises, hand on your hip to keep you still. 

You whimper, lip wobbling, trying to keep your cool. All you want is to reach out to him. You think if you could touch him, he would give you what you want, so you’re pretty sure that’s why he’s got you tied to the damn bed, to keep himself in check, to see this through, because Joel Miller always folds to you when you put your hands on him, weak man that he is. 

“You’re being so mean.” You cry out as he shifts, lying flat on his stomach so you can feel his breath on your aching pussy. 

“You were the one beggin’ to get punished baby,” And it smarts because it’s true, “I’m only givin’ you what you wanted.” 

He leans forward, tongue licking a stripe through your pussy, all the way up to your clit where he sucks the little bud into his mouth, rolls it between his lips and then lets it pop from his mouth like an ice-pop. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue a few times and you suck in a breath, your fingernails digging painfully into the palm of your hands as you focus on trying to reach the cliff edge and fall over it this time. 

You’re holding your breath, hips working in time with the movements of his mouth, eyes screwed shut just trying to focus on how good it feels. You can hear the rustling of sheets, which means if you were to open your eyes and look down at him, you’d find him grinding himself into the bedsheets for his own relief. He pulls off you, and you’re about to curse him out when he speaks. 

“You wanna come, baby?” He asks, punctuating it with a flick of his tongue. 

“Oh please Joel,” You beg, and even to your ears it sounds wrecked and pathetic, “Please let me come.” 

Then, you’re shrieking because the palm that has dealt so much damage to your ass this evening, has now swatted your aching cunt, “No.” He says simply, pushing himself back up and onto his knees. 

He pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere behind him. You’re squirming as he shucks off his boxers, moving awkwardly to kick them off, before he’s mounting your body, those strong thighs straddling your chest as his throbbing cock rests just millimetres from your mouth. He reaches down, let’s his fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls your head forward roughly. Your mouth, like muscle-memory takes over, opens, and the head of his cock slips over your tongue. You can already taste the salty beads of pre-cum as he shuffles forward a little, easing his cock into your mouth until it’s hitting the back of your throat. 

He holds your head steady with the fingers tangled in your hair as he fucks your throat. The sound is obscene, practically pornographic, the wet sounds that come as the head of his cock meets the back of your throat on every thrust. He pulls out of your mouth every now and then, when he’s thrust too hard and makes you gag on him, but fucking hell it’s turning you on so much. You can feel yourself literally dripping onto the sheets, you don’t think anything has ever made you this wet before. 

He pulls his cock out of your mouth one last time, a string of saliva connecting him to your mouth until he pulls away enough for it break, laying wet across your chin and down your neck. Joel shuffles back down your body and you think finally, you’re going to get some relief. 

He hooks your knees over his arms, pushing them forward to your chest as his throbbing cock slips through your folds. He rocks his hips a few times, the bulbous head of him swiping over your clit, before he unexpectedly buries himself into your soaked cunt in one go. 

You actually sob at the feeling. You’ve been so empty all night, and now you’re so full of him, so crowded by his body, that you finally feel some kind of relief. He’s still for a moment – once it would have been to get you used to the heft of him inside you, but right now, you know it’s because he’s just as fucked as you are, and he wants to make sure you’ve truly learnt your lesson. 

Once he’s collected himself, he sets a bruising pace. Cock dragging out of your slick heat and slamming back into you. He revels in the way your tits bounce with every thrust, so much so that he leans forward and bites at the flesh, sucking bruises into your skin as he pounds himself right into the very depth of you. 

“Doin’ so good for me baby,” He groans out against your skin, sucking your nipple into his mouth, letting it go with a wet pop as he pushes himself back up for me, “Takin’ your punishment so well.” 

The angle he’s got you folded into means the head of his cock is brushing against the spongy spot inside you every time. Your pussy is clenched so tightly around him that it’s a miracle he’s held on for this long. He finally brings his thumb back to your clit and you’re begging this time that he’ll let you finish, because if he doesn’t you’re pretty sure you might actually die. 

“Joel,” You mewl, “I’m g-gonna – holy shit – m’gonna come.” 

“Go on baby,” He finally relents, you let out a sob of relief, “Come on my cock for me, like a good girl.” 

It’s so overwhelming when it finally happens. Your vision blurs and blood rushes to your ears, blocking out any sound that isn’t the beating of your pulse. Your pussy clenches impossibly tight around him as pleasure finally floods through every inch of your body. You feel yourself literally gush on his cock, soaking his skin, your skin, the bedsheets beneath you. You think you might even scream his name as your body convulses and shakes, arches up into him. 

You’re slightly aware of him pulling his cock from inside you, letting your knees drop. You can hear the slap of his fist on his skin as he fists his cock, and then he’s growling out your name, his cum spattering over your tummy, lying hot and thick on your sticky skin. It’s silent for a good few moments, the only thing you can focus on is the sound of you both sucking in breath to your lungs and the burn of the rope around your wrists. 

“Look at me.” Joel demands, and you do, your eyes meeting his, which are almost black with lust, his face flushed, sweat pooling at his hairline. 

He drags a finger through the pools of his cum, bringing his fingers to your mouth. He presses them into the flat of your tongue, letting you swallow, which continues until you’ve cleaned every inch of him from your skin. He then works quickly to untie the knots that have you bound to the bed, freeing your skin from the burning feeling that’s settled there. 

“Stay still,” It’s still demanding, but it’s softer now, as he gets off the bed, dropping the rope to the floor, “I’ll be right back.” 

He comes back moments later with a glass of water and a cool cloth. He rolls you over onto your tummy, pressing the cool material to your ass, trying to soothe the red welts of his handprints that have already started to form. He presses soothing, open-mouth kisses to the skin before he rolls you back over onto your back. 

He moves you because you’re pliant now, to rest against the pillows, handing you the water to drink as he runs the last of the cooling cloth over your lower tummy and through the folds of your spent cunt, then it’s discarded to the floor with everything else, and you’re being pulled to his chest, kiss pressed to your forehead. 

“Too much?” He asks quietly, checking to make sure he hasn’t crossed some line with you. 

“Just perfect.” You reply, eye-lids heavy with sleep. 

He brings one of your wrists to his mouth, letting his tongue lick soothing stripes along the reddened skin there, kissing every now and then, but keeping you pressed tightly to his chest, you own arm draped around his waist.

“You learn your lesson?” He asks then. 

“Probably not,” You hum against the sweaty skin of his chest, “I don’t think you’re ever going to fuck the attitude outta me, Miller.” 

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[godslino]

IN CONTROL | jeongin established relationship. college au. smut. minors dni.

pairing: jeongin x fem!reader word count: 4.7k warnings: explicit content, swearing, soft!dom jeongin, unprotected sex, sex toys (vibrator), public humiliation (kinda), fingering, piv, spanking, creampie summary: jeongin buys a new toy and decides to test it out in the library

· · · ♡ masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

“This is the best idea I’ve ever had.” Jeongin mumbles, his eyes dark, trained on your every move.

Jeongin is a menace, insatiable, constantly finding different ways to turn your sex lives up a notch or two when he has the time. And tonight, he’s trying something new.

Well, you both are.

The library is unusually busy for a Friday night, you realize, as you squeeze your thighs together and pull your bottom lip tight between your teeth. Jeongin’s still watching, probably has spit pooling in his mouth at the sight of you squirming in your chair. He does little to hide the slight upturn of his mouth, and it only serves to turn you on more.

There wasn’t much that could have prepared you for what he had waiting the minute you strolled into his apartment earlier, his eyes sparkling when you planted an innocent, unknowing kiss on his cheek.

“What’s that look for?” You had asked, raising an eyebrow when his smile only grew.

“We’re still going to the library tonight, right?” He asked, hand on your waist as he caged you in against the counter of his kitchenette. His fingers flexed atop the fabric of your jeans, already excited, itching to touch.

“That’s the plan. Unless you don’t want to, but I really need to study for my philosophy debate next week and—wait. What is that?”

“Surprise.” He said, pulling a small box out from behind his back. You let your eyes dart between him and the gift, something like anticipation swimming around in your gut. It wasn’t a holiday, or an anniversary, and Jeongin really only ever got that look in his eye when he—

You pulled the lid off, eyes going wide at the site of a pair of lace underwear sitting in a bed of tissue paper. Beside it, a small remote.

“Is this…”

“Mmhm,” Jeongin hummed, placing the box on the counter so he could pull you in by your hips for a kiss.

Painfully slow, his tongue worked your mouth open with force, cock already pathetically hard beneath his sweatpants at the mere thought of having you at his full disposal.

“You put these on before we leave, and if you show me that you can handle it,” he paused, dropping his voice an octave lower, the resulting growl enough to send a shiver down your spine, “I’ll bring you back to my place and reward you.”

That’s how you found yourself here, seated at a table towards the back of the library, the soft lull of a vibrator against your core as Jeongin controls it with a remote hidden in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

“You seem to be—mmnf—enjoying this.”

Jeongin smirks, wets his lips. Even with the way his hair falls into his eyes, it’s hard to miss the hunger in them.

“You have no idea.”

Despite his outward facing, saccharine sweet demeanor, Jeongin harbors an almost animalistic desire beneath toothy grins and shy rubs to the back of his neck.

When you first met, you found him cute and quiet, too reserved to even spare a glance in your direction for the most part. Not that you were any better, but to say you were shocked the moment you and Jeongin finally fell into bed together is an understatement.

Of course, it took a few times for him to let loose, to feel comfortable enough to let go and have you take him fully, but once he did he couldn’t stop.

Jeongin is all rough hands and filthy words, guttural moans and spit stained sheets from when he gets too drunk on the taste of you that he can’t be bothered to clean it up. The worst part? You love it. You love the praises he whispers and the secret touches he gives when no one is looking, love the way his eyes will find you from across the room and undress you inside and out, your stomach twisting and turning from just a single upturn of his lip. Jeongin throws your world on its head, satisfies you in ways you never thought possible.

“Jeongin—ah.” His name comes out as a broken moan, the vibrator pressed tight between your legs. He must be cranking it higher, the sensation getting more and more intense, the squeezing of your thighs barely enough to contain it.

“What was that?” He asks innocently.

Jeongin leans back in his chair, far enough for you to see the way his hand twitches in the pocket of his sweatshirt, a stronger vibration following immediately after. “I didn’t quite catch what you were trying to say.”

Torture. That’s the best way to describe this. Jeongin’s been edging you for the past fifteen minutes, waiting until the last second, when you look like you’re about to come undone, only to lower the setting and leave you whining behind the screen of your laptop as you hide your face. It was more bearable when he had it set to a constant speed, but now, you’re barely managing to hold it together

You’ve waited too long, pretended to be taking notes for what feels like forever, when you finally decide to beg him for relief. “Jeongin, please, can we—”

“Hey lovebirds!”

The world, seemingly against you, decides that now is the best time to send a crescent-eyed Hyunjin waltzing up to your table. He’s got one hand wrapped around the strap of his bag, hair tied back into a ponytail, and he looks an awful lot like he has enough free time to make small talk. How cruel.

Unsurprisingly, Jeongin’s smile grows. The vibration increases between your legs. Fucking hell, he looks like a kid in a candy store, teeth on full display. “Hey Hyune! What are you doing here?”

“Oh Innie, I ask myself that every time Old Yeller over there tries to sweet talk me into taking her granddaughter on a date.” He jerks his head in the direction of the help desk where Mrs. Jung is already staring at him over the top of her glasses.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes before turning his attention to you, “Long time no see, y/n. Tell Yang to start bringing you along to hangouts so we can talk about him behind his back.” His eyes disappear into his smile, and you do your best to reciprocate.

“She would never.” Jeongin says, eyes narrowing in your direction at the exact moment the vibrator begins whirring with more intensity.

You take a deep breath, white-knuckling around your pen as you fight to suppress a moan, “Mmhm. Sure thing. Sounds fun. I’ll make sure to be there next time.” You pause after every few words, giving yourself just enough time to collect your bearings as Jeongin continues to wreak havoc against your throbbing core.

Hyunjin, bless his heart, doesn’t seem to notice. He smiles—beams even—before his eyes fall to the open philosophy book next to your laptop. “Oh, shit, you’re in that class too? Must be a different section than mine, but I haven’t even started reviewing anything. Seungmin’s going to beat my ass before the debate.” Jeongin’s thumb brings the vibrator up one notch. “Do you mind if I take a peek at your notes for a sec?”

Yes, you want to say. But you can’t, you know you can’t. And, more importantly, Jeongin knows you can’t.

“Yeah sure, I—hah—it’s uh, it’s all in here.” You say quickly, turning your laptop a bit so he can see the screen.

“Fucking bless. You’re a lifesaver.” Hyunjin says in relief, oblivious to your little slip up.

Jeongin saw it though, heard the way the moan almost fell from your lips. He’s been painfully hard the entire time, straining against his underwear, cock swollen from how badly he’s turned on. Hyunjin showing up doesn’t do much to help, only adds to the thrill of it all. You look so pitiful trying to hold it together, trying to hide how good you feel. To hide the way Jeongin is controlling how good you feel.

You’re being good for him. So good. He could bend you over the table right now if he wanted, fuck you so the whole student body can see for all he cares.

You visibly relax when Jeongin brings the intensity down, your legs shaking as you slowly relieve some of the tension off of your aching thighs. The knot in your stomach is still there, sitting on the precipice of release as the dull hum of the vibrator continues. You’re so close it’s almost terrifying, unable to predict what you'll do when Jeongin finally gives you the satisfaction of letting go.

As if he can read your mind, Jeongin’s foot knocks against your shin under the table. You shift your gaze up to him, cock an eyebrow as if asking What? Done for now? to which he replies with a wink. Challenging. You lick your lips. Jeongin’s dick twitches in his pants.

“I don’t know why,” Hyunjin says, squinting at the screen, “But I have this feeling that Professor Kang is going to give our class the question about free will. Like, whether or not we have it. So if I was going to argue from the standpoint of compatibilism, that means I’m only speaking for instances where external constraints are absent, right?”

“Well, yes,” you begin, leaning in closer, “But you have to remember that compatibilism doesn’t mean that humans are free, though. Always make sure that—” Jeongin’s foot starts sliding up your leg, stopping right at the inside of your knee, “—that, uh, you don’t confuse your stance with one of the other three perspectives.”

Hyunjin furrows his eyebrows. “Yes, but, if there’s an absence of external constraint shouldn’t that mean they’re free in a way? The constraints are what’s stopping them, no?”

You blink hard, eyes fixed on the screen as you try to refocus your attention on what Hyunjin is saying. “Y-Yeah, but, sometimes you—” Jeongin’s foot slowly pushes your knees apart until your legs are spread wide beneath the table, enough so that your folds are no longer separating the flat side of the vibrator from your clit. He gives no warning, no time to process what’s happening until your entire body jolts forward from the force of the vibration against your now exposed clit.

“Woah, are you okay?” Hyunjin asks, eyes wide. You let out a few hesitant breaths as you straighten back out. Jeongin’s foot is firm against your left knee, forcing it open as he innocently fiddles with the corner of his notebook.

He’s playing a dangerous game, tiptoeing the line between teasing and just being downright cruel. Jeongin supposes that the ideal situation would not be for you to come undone right here at the table, Hyunjin’s eyes on you as he waits for a response, lips parted in confusion and concern.

“I’m fine I’m just—”

“Actually, we have to go.” Jeongin cuts in, glancing at his watch. “I forgot that we have a dinner reservation at seven. Must’ve slipped my mind. You can email him the notes, yeah babe?”

You blink at him in surprise, swallowing when his foot trails the length of your leg until it’s resting back on the ground. The vibrator turns off, and Jeongin lifts his eyebrows in a silent signal.

“Y-yeah! Of course,” you turn to Hyunjin, “Sorry, I don’t mean to cut it short. You can definitely text me if you have any more questions though.” Your voice is strained, throat tight with anticipation. Jeongin is looking at you like he could eat you alive, and it takes everything in you to not moan right then and there even without the sensation of the vibrator against you.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah totally. I don’t want to keep you guys any longer,” Hyunjin says happily, his eyes taking on that familiar shape, “Have fun you two! Also, Yang, I’m watching you. You’d better invite her out with us next time!” He calls out, pointing two fingers at his eyes before turning them in Jeongin’s direction as he walks backwards towards one of the study rooms. Jeongin gives him a lazy wave before focusing his attention back to you.

���All of a sudden?” you ask, not bothering to lead in with anything else.

Jeongin doesn’t say anything, just starts shoving his things into his bag. You watch him for a few moments, eyeing him carefully. Is he…mad? No, right? There’s nothing you could have possibly done to piss him off. If anything, you're the one who should be mad at him for making you look like a fool in front of Hyunjin.

When it’s clear that Jeongin isn’t in the mood to talk, you slowly start packing up your own things. Your legs feel like jelly once you stand, aching from the knot of arousal that’s still sitting low in the pit of your stomach. Jeongin lets his eyes trail your body before he pushes away from the table.

“Come on, let’s go.” He mumbles, eyes dark. You open your mouth to say something but he pays no mind, just grabs your hand and heads straight for the door.

//

The walk is silent. Jeongin only grunts in greeting at the person behind the front desk of his apartment building, hurriedly making his way to the elevators as you struggle to keep up, his grip on your wrist the only thing making sure you’re close behind. Jeongin doesn’t say anything during the ride up to his floor, either. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t react.

You’re at your limit when he punches his code into the keypad of his apartment, flinging the door open and ushering you inside. You’re about to confront him, about to turn and ask what you did wrong and apologize for whatever it might’ve been when he slams the door shut and yanks you by the wrist, pulling you with enough force to have your back against the wood in a matter of seconds.

One hand above your head, palm flat against the door, Jeongin uses his other to cradle your jaw and slam his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Your hands fly to his hair immediately, tangling themselves in the softness of it, pulling slightly to elicit a groan out of him just the way you know he likes.

“Did so fucking good,” he mumbles against your lips as he drops both of his hands to press your hips further into the door. “Gonna reward you now, yeah? Gonna make you feel good. Give you what you want.”

You clench around nothing as his words shoot straight through you, nothing but heat spreading throughout your entire body as his mouth works hot against your neck. You squeeze your thighs together for something, anything to relieve your want for more.

“Jeong—fuck, please.” You whine when his hand slips into your pants, and you feel him smile against your neck.

“Look at you begging. Always so good for me, so needy.” His fingers grip the end of the vibrator as he slips it out of the pocket of the underwear and tosses it somewhere on the floor.

You gasp, your eyes flying open. “You’re going to break it.”

Jeongin chuckles, “I’ll buy another one.”

“You can’t just waste money on that.” You groan and pull his head back by his hair, “I bet it was expensive too, wasn’t it?”

“I’d spend any amount of money if it meant I’d be able to see you look that fucked out in public again, baby, trust me.” Jeongin smirks. “Now, can you ride my face or are we gonna continue to argue about my financial responsibility?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, smirking when Jeongin’s eyes flicker to them. He takes it as the okay, drops to his knees, and smiles in satisfaction at the hiss that leaves your mouth once he pulls your jeans down to your ankles and the air hits the wet fabric of your panties.

“Fuck, look at you,” he sighs, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to each of your thighs. Your legs start shaking almost immediately. “Can’t believe you’re mine.” He mumbles as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband and pulls them down your legs, helping you step out of it.

Jeongin cups his hands under your thighs, thumbs pressed to the inside of them, and then spares one last look up at you through thick lashes before he’s leaning in and licking a stripe up your folds. You nearly collapse then and there, but his hands hold you up, grip firm.

“Holy fuck,” you groan. Jeongin hums against you, licking and sucking at your clit like his life depends on it. He feels like it does. He can’t help but pull back and admire how red and swollen you are, sensitive as hell from all the edging, your wetness practically leaking all over his chin. He lets you fist at his hair as incoherent words tumble from your lips, lets you grind your hips into his face as he stiffens his tongue so you can fuck yourself on it, his nose brushing your clit every so often and sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It’s good, so fucking good, Jeongin’s always known how to push your limits in a way that has you trembling and craving more.

“Right there,” you gasp, your thighs clenching as you shake in his hold, your peak reaching faster than you expected it to. “Fuck. Fuck.”

Jeongin flattens his tongue and begins lapping at you pathetically, bringing a hand up to start pumping two fingers in and out of you at just the right angle. You cum all over his fingers, hot white flashes clouding your vision as your hips stutter, his left arm keeping you firm against the door. He lets you ride it out, sucks lazily at your clit until you’re jerking with every touch of his mouth to your core, too sensitive for him to continue.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before standing up, hair completely ruined and pupils blown wide with desire. He leans in to kiss you, more gentle this time, and he laughs into your mouth when you all but melt into his arms and he has to tighten his grip to hold you up. You moan when he tilts your head back and licks your bottom lip, to which you open for him, and he kisses your own arousal into your mouth.

“Think you can keep going?” He asks.

You don’t answer, just snake your hand in between your bodies and cup him through his sweats. He’s hard, practically straining against his underwear.

“Your turn.” You whisper, walking him backwards until the backs of his knees hit the couch and he falls on to it. He spreads his legs wide, watches with heavy eyelids as you stand before him and remove your shirt, leaving yourself fully exposed for him to see.

“God you are…” he trails off when you move towards him and climb onto his lap, grinding your hips down against him and no doubt leaving a wet spot on the outside of his sweats, “…fuck.” He groans, throwing his head back as he presses his thumbs into your hips to help you press down harder.

“I’m what?” You ask when you begin trailing kisses down his jaw, loving the way his stubble scratches against your lips. You suck at the spot just below his ear, still grinding against him.

“Everything I’ve ever fucking dreamed of.” He sighs.

You pull back until your noses are barely brushing and stare into his eyes for a moment. “What?” he asks as he starts rubbing circles into your hip bone with his thumb.

“Nothing I just…” you trail off, eyes still searching his as he stares back at you with an overwhelming amount of adoration.

“…I just really want to suck your dick right now.”

Jeongin barks out a laugh, loud and punctuated, before his head falls forward onto your shoulder and the remaining giggles are nothing but choppy breaths that ghost your nipples.

“What?” You laugh, hitting his shoulder. “I’m serious!”

He picks his head back up to look at you, eyes disappearing into the smile that’s on his face, and leans forward to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “I know, I know, I just—I love you, that’s all. I. Love. You.” He punctuates every word with a kiss, but you chase the last one until his lips are slotted against yours hungrily once again, his hands dropping to cup you from behind.

You inhale deeply before sliding off his lap, dropping to your knees on the floor in front of him. Jeongin lifts his hips just enough for you to help him slide his sweats and underwear off in one fluid motion and then yanks his sweatshirt over his head, leaving him fully naked and sinking back into the couch cushions. With his legs spread wide, cock hard and swollen pink against his stomach, messy hair and wide eyes, you think about just how lucky you are to call him yours, to be able to have him in every way possible.

Without wasting too much time, you rest your hands on his thighs and lick along the underside of him, tracing the vein there with your tongue and then sucking off the precum at the tip. “Shiiiiit,” Jeongin moans, throwing his head back.

You grab at the base of his cock and take him fully without warning, sinking down until he hits the back of your throat. He’s big enough that he fills your mouth completely, spit dribbling out of the sides as you work the bottom half of him with your hand, moving in time with your lips as you bob your head up and down.

“Holy fuck, shit, fuck,” the words tumble from his lips as he keeps a steady hand on the back of your head. You look up at him, a single tear spilling from the corner of your eye. He watches with parted lips for a second before pulling you off of him, a string connected to where spit is pooling on your chin.

“I am not,” he says, out of breath, “Cumming unless I’ve got you around my cock.”

You smile as you scramble up and onto his lap, planting your legs on either side of him. He raises an eyebrow in question, “Aren’t your legs tired?”

“Not for you they’re not,” you say as you reach behind, your hand using your leftover spit to pump him a few times. “Now shut up.”

Jeongin laughs and puts both hands behind his head, arms on full display as he leans back, “Yes ma’am.”

The moans you both let out the minute you sink down on him is so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed. If his neighbors didn’t already know what you were doing, then they definitely do now. Jeongin’s shoulders are firm where you anchor yourself to him, using his body as leverage while you ride him to high hell.

“Jesus Christ,” he gasps, his hands finding your breasts immediately. Sometimes you forget how big Jeongin’s hands are, both of them cupping you completely, only your nipples peeking out between his fingers as he kneads your chest.

“Bet you liked knowing how wet I was for you while I was talking to Hyunjin, huh?”

Jeongin won’t admit it, but he loves it when you talk to him like this during sex. He likes to feel in control, likes to have his way with you, but on the flip side he loves when you take initiative too. You can feel him twitch inside you at your words, his hips jerking upwards to meet your movements.

“You liked knowing you were in control, that you could make me cum at any second and I’d have to hide it, maybe squeeze my legs to stop myself. And the poor guy, he wouldn’t have a clue. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if I started whimpering and shaking, would he? And it would all be because of you.”

Jeongin responds by bringing a hand down on your ass with a loud smack, your body jolting forward into him from the force. It only spurs you further, your knees on fire from exertion.

You can feel the mark blooming, a big red handprint sure to be visible by the time you wake up tomorrow morning. Part of you wants to get it tattooed there, to have a permanent reminder of Jeongin on your body, to always know what it feels like to be wholly and unconditionally his.

“God you’re so fucking nasty,” he all but growls into your ear, his mouth hot as he connects his lips with yours, tongue licking eagerly into your mouth. “Close.” He grunts.

Jeongin sees stars when you lean back and prop yourself up on his knees, planting your heels into the couch on either side of him so you can fuck yourself onto his cock at a better angle. He brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing mercilessly while he bucks his hips up to meet your movements halfway.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Jeongin—!”

The sensation of you clenching around him as you cum makes Jeongin’s own release follow shortly after, both of you moaning and swearing as you ride it out together. He lets you fall into his chest, rubs a soothing hand up and down your back as you both attempt to calm your breathing and reel yourselves back to reality. His skin is sticky with a sheen of sweat, your own forehead damp and legs shaking.

Jeongin sighs and brings a hand up to tangle in your hair while his fingers massage your scalp. You pull back, staring at him in confusion.

“What?”

Jeongin blinks a few times before he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “I think you’ve definitely ruined me for anyone else.”

Although he meant it in a sweet, endearing way, you narrow your eyes and poke a finger into his chest. “Why are you saying that as if ‘anyone else’ is even an option?”

He throws an arm over his face, “You know what I meant.”

“No, actually, I don’t think I do—”

“You literally just rode me into oblivion. I bought you vibrating panties just so I could—”

“—I can’t believe that after I just broke my knees for you that’s the first thing you say!”

Jeongin bursts into a fit of giggles when you dig your fingers into his ribs, squealing when he tosses you off of him and you roll on to the side of the couch. “Okay, okay! Let me make it up to you, just stay there.” He says before disappearing into the bathroom. When he reamerges, he’s got a wet washcloth, which he uses to wipe you down before kissing the pout off of your face.

Not long later, when you’re both showered and he’s got you draped across his lap in a pair of his sweats and one of his hoodies, Jeongin chances a tap on your shoulder.

“Hmm?” You hum sleepily.

“So, you never explicitly said it, but on a scale of one to ten…if you were to rate my gift…”

You huff out a laugh, turning so that you’re on your back in order to look at him. “Definitely a ten. Could do without the borderline public humiliation next time, though.”

Jeongin leans down to press a kiss to your lips, smiling when you wrap your arms around his head to hold him there for a while longer. “Noted. As long as you never say one of my friends’ names during sex ever again.”

“Why? You sounded like you liked it.”

“Shut up.” Jeongin groans, resting his forehead against yours. It has to be an uncomfortable position, his entire body hunched over at nearly a ninety degree angle to even reach you. “I was balls deep inside of you when it happened. Completely out of my mind. But then, when I was in the bathroom taking a piss five minutes ago I was like, what the fuck? So yeah. No public humiliation as long as I never have to hear Hyun—”

Jeongin’s phone vibrates a total of three times on the couch next to him, cutting him off. He eyes it for a moment, confused as to why anyone would even be messaging this late, and then laughs when he finally picks it up to read what was sent.

“Speak of the devil,” he scoffs before turning the screen towards you.

hyunjin

yo yang

sorry to bother

you think y/n could email me those notes now?

© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.

#jeongin smut #i.n. smut #jeongin x reader #i.n. x reader #jeongin angst #i.n. angst #jeongin fluff #i.n. fluff #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #jeongin fanfic #jeongin fic #jeongin fanfiction #i.n. fanfic #i.n. fic #i.n. fanfiction #skz fanfic #skz fic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #jeongin #yang jeongin #i.n. #stray kids #skz

[nsfwmaemi]

Good For Something (ft. ITZY Ryujin)

WC: 750

Genre: smut, ryujin x sub m!reader

A/N: Unedited snippet I wrote on a whim for Ryujin day. Fun fact: Ryujin was my third ever ult bias. Can yall guess my first two ult biases? First to guess both wins a... uh... a high five!

“I’m heading to bed!” You hear as the door opens. The lights turn on. You finally see a real living human being after months.

“Good night!” She screams through the small crack of the door before shutting it completely. She clumsily drops her bags by the closet near her door, then does a few little stretches.

She drags her feet towards you, slowly taking off her clothes. Starting with her top, she discards it and throws it beside you. Then she pulls her jeans down along with her panties, fully revealing her glistening pussy. Lastly, as she stands right in front of you, she unhooks her bra and drops it on the floor with her jeans.

With such a sight to behold, your erection comes to life right away. She grabs her makeup removal kit from the bedside table before straddling you. Aligning your shaft to her folds, she slowly sinks down.

“Mmmmmm,” she moans, “I haven’t had a dick in me for so long.” Her tight entrance slowly envelops your length. She ties her hair back as she stares at her reflection in the mirror above you.

Gently, painfully slowly, she grinds on your length as she starts removing her makeup. With heavy breaths, she sways her hips back and forth while paying attention to the little details of her makeup, making sure she completely cleans her face.

In cleansing her face, she must be as gentle as possible in order to keep her flawless skin flawless. However, this gentleness translates to her fucking. While you’re used to fast and rough, just as she likes it, her pace is so meticulous, that it is unsettling for you—a literal change of pace.

As soon as she is done with her makeup removal, she grabs onto your shoulders and bounces on your length. This is what you’re used to. Without batting an eye on you, she untangles her hair and admires her own raw beauty in the mirror. You as well gaze upon her majesty, but her majesty does not even look down on her subject. To her, you are merely a toy, a dick to fuck when she wants.

Without warning, her pace slows down, her grip tightens, and her walls tighten. She moans as loudly as she wants as juices gush from her folds. Her body weakens, leaning forwards, embracing your head close to her shoulder and her chest landing on yours. She grabs your hair until finally her orgasm subsides.

“I haven’t… had one of those… in ages,” she mutters between heavy breaths. She pulls your hair down until your face is looking at her. “You wanna cum, too?” You nod frantically.

“I don’t usually do this, but you’ve been such a good toy to me,” she tells you as she gets off you and grabs your cock. With a sly smile, she teases, “and I know you missed me.”

With an increasing pace, she rubs your cock while staring at you in the eyes. You stare back at her and her body, focusing on her slim figure, grateful that you get to fuck such a figure every day, a body you can never get to touch and admire.

As your small moans start slipping out of your mouth, she quickens the pace even more knowing you’re on the verge of climaxing. And so you do, spurting small loads of semen onto your own belly. She takes a look at your small mess. Her sly smile turns to disappointment, then anger.

“This is pathetic. What is this?” She asks menacingly. She stands on her feet and leans over, glaring at you. “Did you nut while I was gone?”

Stunned, frightened, you can only cower in fear, avoiding eye contact. You were taught not to lie. You couldn’t. But you also couldn’t say yes. To her, the silence implies it however, and that’s all she needs to know.

She sends a palm flying towards your cheek, making a noise so loud you worry her roommates might have heard it.

“What did I tell you?” She growls at you. Again, you can only cower in fear.

“You’re pathetic.” She insults you as the sting on your cheek still lingers. “You know the punishment.”

She storms out, heading towards the bathroom. You hear the shower turn on while you’re stuck on the same couch you’ve lived in for however the fuck long, unable to clean yourself or even touch yourself. You can only sit there quietly as you await your punishment.

#kpop smut #itzy smut #ryujin smut #shin ryujin smut