Tumgik
#i will agree it looks like the 'i' was shoved up his ass
rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days
Text
barrys girl
Tumblr media
words: 1.5k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, p in v sex, protected sex (yayyy!), open relationship, barrys girlfriend!reader, curvy!reader, mentions of drugs and guns, mention of possible/future threesome
“come on, bears.” you coo, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's shoulders as you call him by your favorite nickname. “you should go easy on him.”
“and why should i do that princess?” barry looks up to you, away from the scared teen shivering on the opposite couch.
“he's cute.” you coo, smiling at rafe, and then back at barry. “pleeease, bears.”
“fine.” he growls out. he doesn't mind your open relationship, it allows him to sleep around too, knowing he always has you to come back home to. the only time he doesn't appreciate it is when it gets in the way of his business deals.
“you're the best.” you press your lips against barrys, giving him a passionate kiss, putting on a full display for rafe, still worried about the money he owes, but now confused as well.
“come on.” you say, and it takes rafe a second to realize you're talking to him.
“what's going on?” he asks, long eyelashes fluttering.
“barry is gonna forgive what you owe as long as you fuck me. that is, if you want to fuck me?”
rafe looks you up and down. despite being confident with women, he can admit when someone is out of his league, and just by the way your shorts cling to your ass, he knows this is a rare opportunity.
“of course i want to.” he jumps up, knees bumping into the coffee table, making the glasses rattle.
“well thank barry then come on.” you walk into the bedroom, waiting for rafe to follow.
“isn't that your girlfriend?” rafe whispers, keeping his voice down in case you hear.
“yeah. so fuck her good, man.” barry waves him away, ready to move onto other business now that rafe is taken care of.
“thanks.” rafe says, quickly moving into the bedroom and shutting the door behind him. he takes a deep breath of relief for not having to explain yet again why he can't pay barry back.
“all good sugar?” you ask, southern accent barely licking the edges of your words, just enough to tell rafe you're not exactly from these parts.
“yeah-” rafes eyes focus, and there you are, on the bed completely naked, large tits and thick thighs all on display for him to see.
“don't be shy.” you smile softly. rafe takes a minute to admire the gorgeous features of your face, your dark eyebrows and full, rosy lips, before his eyes move lower, catching on where your legs meet.
“you gonna fuck me or what?” you spread your legs, and rafe swears he almost drools at the sight of your pussy, bare, pink, and juicy wet for him.
rafe is aware of your eyes on him as he quickly undresses, wishing he would have worked out this morning just to have even more muscles on show for you.
by the time rafe pushes his underwear down his thighs, he's already hard.
you smile approvingly at his cock before tossing a condom at him. barry is the only one who gets you raw, and same with him with other girls, it's just the code you agreed upon.
rafe slides the rubber over himself, moving over to kneel on the bed when suddenly barry bursts through the door.
“chill, country club, just gotta grab something.” he laughs when seeing the scared look on rafes face, worried he fell into some sort of trap. barry goes over to the dresser, pulling a gun out and tucking it into the back of his shorts.
“ill be back, baby.” barry now addresses you. “gotta go take care of somethin’.”
“okay, be safe bears. rafey will keep me company until you're back.” 
barry leans over the bed, unfazed by how naked you are, or rafes still hard cock resting against your bare cunt. he presses a kiss against your lips, just like he always does before leaving.
his eyes move down your body, definitely going to have to fuck you when he gets home. “so, that's what you're working with country club.” barry chuckles as rafes hands scramble to cover his cock.
“leave him alone, barry.” you roll your eyes, giving his chest a shove.
“alright, alright.” barry backs out with his hands raised, shutting the door behind him.
“he's just being a dick. still wanna fuck? if you don't i won't make you.” you sit up, placing a hand on rafes shoulder. “and i won't tell barry anything. he'll still forgive whatever you owe.”
“i-i still wanna fuck you.” rafes hands move away and you can see he's even harder after having barry see him. you make a mental note to remember that for later, for the next debt rafe inevitably ensues like all addicts do. 
you nod, flipping over onto your hands and knees. you lower your chest to the bed, presenting your ass to rafe.
his large hands grip your plump bottom, pushing your thighs farther apart to look at your pussy again.
“gonna eat it first?” you giggle, swaying your hips from side to side. “or you just enjoying the view?”
rafe doesn't answer, simply swipes a finger through your folds and brings it to his mouth, moaning when he tastes the wetness on his tongue. he wastes no more time, lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in steadily.
“fuck, that's good.” you moan, pressing your face into the mattress to silence your moans as rafe begins to move.
his eyes stay on your ass, watching the way your skin ripples with his every thrust.
“you're so hot.” rafe mumbles, making you laugh against the bedsheets, pushing yourself up to your hands as you begin to move back against rafe, meeting his thrusts.
“fuck, y/n.” you love the way your name sounds on rafes lips as his hands move up to your waist, holding you there by your soft flesh.
“harder.” you moan out. “harder, please.” 
rafe listens instantly, increasing the pace and how deep his thrusts are going, not holding back as he pounds into you.
“yeah, like that!” you moan out, listening to rafes grunts over your shoulder as he fucks you, gaining confidence with every movement.
rafe moves one hand to your ponytail, gripping your curls between his fist as he pulls your head back, making you let out a sensual whine.
“you like that?” rafe questions, hips pumping into you, but it's clear by your moans and the gush of wetness to your pussy that you like the way it feels.
rafe keeps one hand on your waist to keep you pulling back against him, not allowing you to stop or slow down, even as your legs begin to tire.
“gonna-gonna have barry watch next time.” you say, knowing it will only spur rafe on more. “then you can watch him fuck me.”
“yeah?” rafe moves faster, knees digging into the bed. “you like being passed around like a slut? might as well invite all my friends to have a go at you as well.”
“do they also owe barry money?” you joke, letting out a breathy laugh before it turns into a gasp as rafe tugs at your ponytail.
“god, you feel so- fucking warm.” rafe gasps out.
“gonna cum for me?” you question, feeling rafes cock swell inside of you.
“y-yeah.” it only takes a few more thrusts for rafe to cum with a loud moan of your name, pushing his hips as far forward as he can despite the condom blocking him from spilling inside of you.
“fuck.” rafe pulls out, regretting being finished. 
you flip over onto your back, head against the pillows with a soft, sleepy smile on your face. “you were good rafe.”
“i was good?” rafe laughs. “you… your body is incredible.”
you watch as rafe discards of the condom before putting his clothes back on.
“barry will want you to stay until he's back, do you want a snack?” you ask, getting up from the bed, still naked as rafe follows you out of the bedroom.
you eat and chat idly while waiting for your boyfriend to return, rafes eyes occasionally dropping to your tits, or watching your ass when you bend down to pick something up.
“baby, im home!” barry yells, slamming the door shut behind him as he smirks at you, seeing you completely naked and rafe still there with flushed cheeks.
“missed you, bear.” you coo, giving him a kiss that quickly turns passionate as he grips your ass, pulling you against him. by the time you're done kissing your boyfriend and need to pull away for a breath, rafe has already disappeared out of the house.
--
“where have you been dude?” kelce asks as soon as rafe arrives at the country club for their round of golf.
“dude, you'll never believe it. i just hooked up with barrys girlfriend.” rafe watches kelces face as he processes the news.
“wait, like the super thick baddie? i don't believe you, dude.” kelce rolls his eyes.
“whatever, bro.” rafe doesn't need kelce to believe him, not when he got to experience you for himself.
“come on.” rafe calls, grabbing his clubs. “we're already late!”
460 notes · View notes
cvntyworld · 3 days
Text
wasteland survival guide ( maximus )
summary: you didn't trust easy, but the unconscious man on your porch was way too pretty to let die, and you were way too curious as to why someone from that cult known as the brotherhood would have collapsed on your door in need of help and expecting you to help was an even more insane point of view.
contents: usual fallout shenanigans, violence, gore, black cat and golden retriever energy, max has a tooth lodged in his shoulder like he does in the show, reader pointed a gun at max, awkward tensions as max doesn't know what tf he's doing, fast burn, kissing, ect...
dedicated to: @fallout-girl219
Tumblr media
You've learned two things about the man who you found collapsed on your front porch, his name is Maximus, Max for short, and he was a part of the brotherhood of steel, a cult, in your honest opinion.
Why you had helped him, you still weren't sure about that just yet, maybe it was the fact he was in the way and you would have to step over him every time you entered your house or exited it. You would have to listen to his cries of complaint, desperate for help as his sleeve became a red stain from the wound in his arm. So you decided to help, for once, you had plenty of stim packs and he would get better in no time with one of them. You had dragged him inside pathetically, nearly tripping on the final step when you finally got him into your house.
He had a tooth lodged in his shoulder, rotten and yellow, you had removed it with tweezers and stuck the needle from the stim pack into the open wound and then after seconds, he had woken up with a jolt whilst you turned your back for a mere second, too busy shoving the box back into your cabinet and locking it.
You had heard the thump and turned sharply, your gun pointed at the man who had fallen off your coach with a painful groan, clutching his arm as he sat up and stared at you with a look of worry when he saw the gun you're pointing right at his head. He held his hands up, as you continued to point your weapon, "If I lower this, you're not gonna try anything stupid, are you?" He shakes his head, staring widely as you lowered the gun and in turn held out your hand for him to take, he was surprised at your strength, managing to get him onto his feet with a single pull of his hand.
He was suddenly in your space and so you step back, a little cautious of his taller frame, he could win a fight if he'd chosen to be hostile, but instead he had held out a hand for you to shake to which you agreed. "Thanks for uhh... not letting me die on your porch." He says with a wave of awkwardness in his tone, "I'm Max, Maximus." You let go of his hand with a shrug, "I'm Y/N." You were quick to reply, and he nodded at you with a smile.
"Well, thank you, Y/N, for your hospitality... You don't get a lot of that these days, especially towards brotherhood of steel members." You shrug at him dismissively, sitting down on your worn out couch, "I'm not the biggest fan, no offence, but, I'm not that cruel, I wouldn't leave your ass to bleed out in my yard." He tried to laugh, but your dislike towards the brotherhood made him frown with a look of disappointment. "I don't mean to pry but why do you dislike them? Surely there's a reason." You shrug out of laziness, and turn to face him, "Well, for one, it is such a cult full of military wannabes who think they're gonna save the world or something like that when what they're actually doing is making shit ten times worse." Max was taken aback by your words, sure there were a few truths to your words but the first point made him forget what else had been said so far.
"The brotherhood isn't a cult."
The two of you grew silent, Max had a frown on his face, offended at your words, and then after fully letting it sink in what he had said, you laughed. Your lungs burned out from the breaths you inhaled, trying to get air as you had continued to laugh at his reaction and his words and the man in front of you went even further to prove how you'd offended him by crossing his arms. "What's so funny?" Is the first thing he asks when you finally calm down and it finally makes you turn to him with a shrug, "Most people who are in a cult usually don't know they're in one." Max's lips part to speak and then he falters, "That's a very good point but the brotherhood still isn't a cult."
"It definitely is." You reply bored, "No, it isn't!" He fires at you with an annoyance. "You know, considering I saved your life, the least you can do is agree with me." You're aware he's becoming a little annoyed by you disagreeing with him and so he stands up, "I'm gonna go now." You nod at him, "That would be great, thank you!"
He hovers in place, "I'm leaving now!" He says but still is unmoving, looking rather unsure when you crossed your arms and raised a brow at him, "The doors right there, I'd see you out but I gotta clean this blood off my couch." At your words, Max frowns and glances at the door, "I'll get going then!" He moves a few steps towards the door and then pauses when you scoff, "You've yet to get out of my house, you lost your sense of direction, pal?"
"Can I kiss you?" He asks randomly, "Excuse me?" You're quick to ask with a raised brow. "Can I kiss you?" He asks again, this time a little more awkwardly. "Thought there's some sort of rule in your cult, no sex before marriage or something like that?" He shakes his head, "We're allowed but the brotherhood doesn't exactly allow girls to join us back at base, it's forbidden." He explains and then stares at you suddenly with wide eyes, "Oh, my god, it is a cult!" He exclaims and you laugh breathily, "Told you so..." Max takes a step closer to you now, toe to toe, as he looks at you softly, "Can I still kiss you, even though I'm in a cult?" He asks unsurely and you answer by pressing your soft lips to his, catching him off guard as he suddenly rocked back onto his heels slightly when you parted your lips, a grin on your features at his flustered face, "That answer your question?"
"Yes, yes it does."
97 notes · View notes
infoglitch · 13 hours
Text
Bliss.
Bleiss found herself roaming the halls of beacon as she was trying to think of how to approach her sister without conflict but everything she thought of didn't work.
Weiss was just so fuckin stuck up that's why she cant stand her, she's too fuckin prissy
The thought ran through Bellameres head before shoving it away. She was nearly as grown adult and as much as she loved being right her sister was more important than her ego.
But oum damn it all why the fuck couldn't Weiss just relax around her and not foam at the mouth at everything Bleiss said!
Unbeknownst to Bleiss her feat brought her to a single dorm. Team JNPR's dorm... This was that arc boys team dorm, knowing how he acts it was probably full of losers. Bleiss knocked on the door and soon it opened to reveal the one and only invincible champion, Pyrrha Nikos.
Pyrrha: oh hello Weiss.. what's with the new look?
Bleiss just looked her up and down before trying to speak "calmly" and "dignified" considering this was that overconfident bratty bitch Weiss just LOVED to speak of.
Bleiss: Ms. Nikos apologies for the intrusion-
Pyrrha: I told you already Weiss call me Pyrrha
Bleiss looked at her somewhat annoyed.
Bleiss: apologies Pyrrha but you have me confused for my sister. I am Bellamere Givrése. Weiss' twin.
Pyrrha took a moment before snapping her fingers.
Pyrrha: oh yeah your her "evil twin". I guess on the surface the title is apt.. regardless what do you need Bleiss?
Bleiss: I'm here for Jaune Arc, Ms. ni-
Pyrrha: Pyrrha. I have a name, I'm a person just like you, not some deity.
Bleiss was a bit taken aback, she figured Pyrrha was some snotty stuck bimbo that was used for a one time sponsorship with some weird cereal... That she may have begrudgingly liked.
Bleiss: Pyrrha... So may I please talk with Mr. Arc.
Pyrrha: sure thing.
Pyrrha would lean back and shout into the dorm.
Pyrrha: jaune! You got a visitor. Its weiss' "evil twin".
Jaune: wait what?
Jaune popped his head out from the door frame as he held a box of cereal that Bleiss recognized instantly.
Bleiss: are you... Are you eating pumpkin Pete's?
Jaune: yeah... Any problem with that?
Bleiss: yes. It's the fact no one told me you had some pour me a bowl aswell.
Jaune was a bit surprised but nodded and soon both sat at a table with Bleiss scarfing down her bowl as jaune looked at her in awe.
Jaune: you alright? You act like you haven't in cereal in years
Bleiss stopped and swallowed what was left in her mouth.
Bleiss: right on the money knight, Vacoue ain't got a lot of food, hence the constant delivery of food.. plus the peice of shit who helped my mother conceive me never allowed us to eat "filth's food" .. winter did manage to sneak a few in for all four of us before she got all stick-up-her-ass.
Jaune: that... That surprisingly is sad
Bleiss: yeah.. but ah fuck that boohoo shit and fuck the old bag. He's a daft cunt and a sqwimp.
Jaune: I can agree to that.
Jaune brought up a fist right beside her as Bleiss fist bumped him. Meanwhile Ren Pyrrha and Nora watched in the background.
Pyrrha: I don't get how she's an Evil twin. Most evil thing to her is her language.
Nora: I like her, she seems fun
Ren: I have a bad feeling about her... Something is off with her disposition.. like she's hiding something.
Pyrrha: well if anything happens we'll be prepared... She better stop sizing jaune up though.
Fin
28 notes · View notes
cyberbunny07 · 14 hours
Text
Bird Behaviors
An Adam x Reader Ramble
A.N. - Hello hello, my dears. I got bored in my chemistry class so here’s some brain rot because I love looking into how a character’s animal nature can affect their daily life and I might go into a full psychological rant about a few later but anywizzle-
Cw - Pushy coworker (doesn’t go into detail) / pissy Adam
Just Adam Being Part Bird (Not Really)
Wing Flapping (Whenever he finds something stupid hilarious that he wants to share, his wings usually flap behind him.)
“Hey, hot stuff!”
You sighed, looking up from your phone to look at whatever he wanted to show you now. It was usually a random rock or something shiny.
“Look, look, look,” he walked up next to you, his wings shifting behind him, “it’s a dick, right?”
You gave him a look.
He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, whatever, but it is, isn’t it?” He shoved the rock in your face as you looked it over. It looked more like a heart, but knowing him, he wouldn’t agree.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
His wings flapped behind him as he grinned wider, “Right? Fucking called it. Lute said it looked like Missouri. I knew you’d agree, babe.”
You smiled at his childish antics, “Yup.”
Preening (Despite what you might think, he takes good care of himself. He’s the face of his band after all.)
“Adam, I got the-“ you paused at the sight. Adam was bent in a strange way, his wings fully unfurled, as he tried to reach a spot by the base of his wings, “Fucking ass why are you so damn-“
He paused, then fell, cursing.
“Fucking hell, gimme a damn warning, bitch,” he huffed. He sat down on the couch, arms crossed with his wings half groomed.
You laughed, “Yeah, yeah,” you stood behind him, “sit up.”
“I don’t need your fucking help.”
“Up, Adam.”
With some more grumbling, he obliged.
Beak Clicking (Adam has this weird habit he does every time someone tries to flirt with you.)
“C’mon, just one? I promise to pay and everything,” they pleaded. Your coworker had been asking for a date this past week. You repeatedly told them no, but they didn’t seem to get the hint.
You, of course, told Adam. Something you were regretting now that you saw him standing menacingly behind them.
He kissed his teeth, “So, you’re the one who’s been annoying ‘em, huh?”
They turned around, not expecting Adam to be there, “Oh, uh, hey, A-”
“Don’t ‘hey, Adam’ me, bitch,” he looked them over, “What the Hell do you think you’re doing? They said no, so leave.”
“I, uh, yeah, okay.”
Fluffing (He gets cold easily. And he makes it very well known)
“I don’t wanna,” he whined.
“Look,” you put on a jacket, “it’s not even 60 degrees. You’ll be fine.
“Nuh uh,” his wings formed a very fluffy cocoon around him, “I’ll freeze!”
You pinched your nose, “Adam, I need to leave.”
“But I don’t want you leaving me.”
“Then come on!”
“It’s cold,” he pouted.
You have to admit, seeing his cute stupid little face surrounded by his wings made you want to just stay and cuddle.
He knew that, of course, “C’mon. I’m cold, you’re warm, just cuddle me, bitch.”
You raised a brow, making him pause.
“Uh, please?” He gave you that damned look.
You sighed, already taking off your jacket, “I hate you.”
He had a smug grin, “Love you, too, hot stuff.”
40 notes · View notes
ldrloverrrrrr · 2 days
Text
can we fall in love? pt. 2
formerly known as be my baby !
matt x female!oc
Tumblr media
moodboard is at the end bc i couldn’t fix it😭
song for the whole series:
ABOUT: the girl who believes she’s unlovable meets the boy who can’t take his eyes off of her and has too much love to give but can’t admit his feelings for her.
A/N: sorry if this is long, let me know what you think about the story so far and what you want to see. Thank you for reading <33
MATT:
“so do you skate?” i asked just wanting to her voice more. “nah i just like the vibe here plus it’s good for painting because there’s no old people telling me i’m ‘wasting my youth’” i laughed at that. Chris told me that nick was calling asking where we were but i didn’t want to leave Ava yet so i let him walk ahead telling him i’ll meet him at the car. “sorry if this is too forward because we’ve just met but do you wanna grab something to eat later? me, my brothers and a few friends are meeting for pizza in south end.” i bit my lip hoping she’d say yes. “sure! i’ve not got anything planned, i’ll give u my number and you can text me the details” silently celebrating we exchanged numbers and i caught up to chris. “i invited ava to dinner later with us!” i said to him excitedly, “matt.” “what?” “you so have a crush on her” “no i don’t what?” i lied “you’re blushing like crazy and all giddy” he replied, i just shoved his shoulder and walked around to the drivers seat. We hoped into the car on the way home, all i could think of was her and how i excited i was to see her again, but then i thought what if she thinks i was being weird by asking her so many questions? is she actually serious about coming? maybe it was a mistake. we got home and i felt my phone buzz.
Ava
hey!! what’s the plans for later?
i was instantly relieved, until i heard chris walk in and said to nick “matts in loveee” while making a heart with his hands, “shut up chris” i nudged him, nick was too distracted with something on his phone to care. “nick we met a new friend and i invited her to dinner later, if that’s ok with you?”
“yea no problem what’s their name?”
“ava”
“oooo ava” he teased
“not you now” i rolled my eyes
“what’s she like then” he said putting his phone down and walking over to the counter where i was sitting.
“we met her at the skatepark she was listening to lil skies so obviously we went over, she was doing some graffiti too it was really cool you should’ve seen!” chris mentioned
“i can’t wait to meet her then!”.
AVA:
i walked back home with mila telling her about the boys, “he sounds really nice” “i know right he invited me out for pizza later but i have no clue what to wear” mila stopped and squealed “ILL HELP YOU!!” i immediately agreed and we ran into the apartment. i put some songs on and she started to pick out some options from my closet, after deciding on my clothes she did my makeup all nice and i sprayed some perfume. “now listen, if anyone tries anything sneaky call me and i will beat their ass, no joke” she said deadpanned, i giggled “ i’m sure i’ll be fine mila” she wrapped her arms round me and sighed “sorry for ditching you tonight, i need a new job honestly this is killing my social life” i laughed and said “don’t worry about it” i looked down at my phone to see matt texted saying he’s outside i quickly replied and said bye to mila, running down stairs being careful to not fall down. chris waved through the window and pointed to the back door. “hi guys, thank you so much for inviting me!” “hey i’m nick, you must be ava?” i turned to my left “yes nice to meet you! oh my god i love your tattoos” he thanked me and i looked forward to where matt was to see him staring through the mirror at me, when i noticed he swiftly averted his gaze saying “ok are we ready to go?” “yep all good” i responded. On our way chris was playing songs on aux while i got to know them a bit better. “so what brings you to LA” nick asked “well honestly scotland is depressing as hell and i love the vibes here but most of the reason was my family” i took a pause before talking again “i’m just not that close with them” i didn’t want to fully unload my trauma onto them, i had only known them a few hours, “what about you guys, matt told me you’re from boston?” nick explained their reasons and by the time he was done we arrived at the restaurant. hopping out of the car i met their friends and we went inside. i decided to sit in between matt and chris in the booth seats and we ordered. in my head i was super nervous to eat anything infront of everyone, it had always been something i just couldn’t get over for some reason. i hadn’t realised i had zoned out before i felt a familiar tap on my shoulder “hey, you okay?” matt asked “oh yeah sorry i was just distracted” “you wanna talk about it?” he offered “oh no it’s nothing thank you though” why was he so kind to me, i had known him for under a day, i don’t know if it’s just because i’ve never had real friends but i felt almost guilty by being there. After eating i excused myself to the bathroom and their friend madi came with me. She was literally gorgeous, like something straight out of a magazine we instantly clicked and she really welcomed me into their group. “ava, i think matt likes you” she whispered “what?” “i don’t know for sure but he kept admiring you and he was super excited telling us about you before we went out” i didn’t really know how to respond so i just laughed it off. someone liking me felt other worldly, i was constantly teased at school and made fun of so it fully drained me of any expectations but madi seemed so sure. On the way home chris handed me the aux cable “since we already know you have good taste in music” he chuckled, i scrolled through my playlist and played ‘broken clocks by sza’ nick instantly turned to me and yelled “OH MY GOD I LOVE SZA” “STOP ME TOO” we started belting out the lyrics, matt and chris just laughed and we drives through the dark LA streets before reaching my apartment block. “thank you so much for the night, i had a lot of fun!” i hugged nick before jumping out the car and waving to chris and matt.
MATT:
2:00am
i was laying in my bed unable to sleep because i couldn’t stop thinking of her. i was listening to music until i heard my phone vibrate.
Ava
thank you sm again for tonight, see ya soon :)
My heart started beating fast and a smile plastered across my tired face before i replied and drifted off.
AHH LET ME KNOW WHAT U GUYS THINK 🤍🤍
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
20 notes · View notes
sketchehm · 1 month
Text
Minecraft Presents:
367 notes · View notes
foldingfittedsheets · 2 months
Text
Every sales job I’ve worked has that one item. The white whale. The biggest ticket you can sell. The sale you brag about when you’re chatting with other industry people.
When I sold mattresses it was a split king adjustable base. That’s two twin extra long mattresses next to each other to make a king, but each side can move independently. They’re insanely expensive and honestly kind’ve impractical but it was the biggest ticket thing to sell.
When I sold sex toys though our white whale was the 20lb ass. It was a female pelvis, a cut out from the waist to the tops of the thighs. It was hyper realistic material and cost about $500. I definitely had bigger tickets but not in one item typically.
In my time at the sex shop, I sold three. Each time was completely different in terms of how the guy acted about buying it. The first man was a little embarrassed and shy about it. I was professional and supportive as I rang it up. Once I handed him the receipt he looked at the box. Then he looked at me.
If you’ve ever wondered how big a box has to be to fit a 20lb ass let me just tell you: it’s pretty damn big. It’s an uncomfortably large armful of box and every side has a picture of the sex toy inside on it. It’s not subtle.
“Could I get a bag….?”
There was no bag that existed that could possibly contain all that ass. “Hang on,” I told him.
I got scissors and tape and covered the box in cut up black bags. Looking relieved he picked up his purchase and left.
The next man to buy one carried it proudly to the counter; self assured and not embarrassed in the least. When I said I didn’t have a bag, but I could wrap it for him he gave a hearty shrug and hefted it into his arms, marching out the door with the butt on full display.
The last man to get one was just kind’ve an odd guy. Not creepy, but eccentric. We got along great, and as I rang him up I said, “Well one guy wanted his taped over, and one guy carried it out. What would you prefer?”
“There’s no bags?”
“No store bags. I think our jumbo trash bags in the back might fit it….?” It seemed rude to suggest putting a $500 item into a trash bag, but he wasn’t bothered.
He considered this then said, “Bring me the trash bag.”
When I delivered it to him he still managed to surprise me. Instead of shoving the huge box into it he opened the box. He took out his new $500 sex toy, and all the little things it came with, tipping them unceremoniously into the trash bag.
“There! Now I don’t have to deal with the box later!”
I was slightly stunned but agreed that I could easily deal with the trash. Then in a move I still think about with delight he flung the trash bag over his shoulder like a Santa with a sack full of ass and sauntered out the door.
If this or my other escapades made you laugh you could pop a tip into my Ko-fi! For more like this check my tag "ffs foibles".
45K notes · View notes
gyrlliar · 18 days
Text
Initiation pt.2
(football team x bttm cheerleader male/ftm reader)
(note: currently healing from pneumonia, but i'm back, i missed you sluts so much haha)
You gulped as you stared up at their musky cocks and sweaty faces. You thought initiations would be like drinking gross drinks or being pranked by the seniors...not...this. But who said you were complaining? You sucked on Ivan's cock as Gerald started going to town on your lower half. Gerald lightly prodded his tongue on your throbbing hole and started to eat you out.
You squeaked on Ivan's cock, the noise vibrating on his sensitive rod making him groan loudly. The twins looked over at you with devious grins on their faces, Luke slightly pushes Lucas to the side, making Lucas scoff and push Luke back. "Hey, I'm gonna get a handjob from him first!" Luke protested as Lucas stuck out his tongue at him.
The twins proceeded to bicker back and forth as Daniel stands in front of you, his face was red and embarassed. Ivan chuckles at his face, Ivan's blue eyes look down at you, groans bubbling from his throat whilst he's trying to speak. "This cutie has enough room in his mouth for the both of us, Danny. Get your knob slobbered over by this one."
Ivan's southern accent came out, his precum bursting in your mouth. Soft and lewd moans and whimpers came out muffled in your mouth as you felt Gerald lick a sensitive part of your hot, dripping sex. Ivan shoved more of his cock down your throat, the way that his cock curved over to the right scratched your throat...gosh, you won't be able to yell cheers for weeks after this.
Daniel shook his head at Ivan's offer, his hands over his boner as he refused to use you even though how enticing you looked right now...
Your mind was melting from the heat of the hot intimacy happening to your previously virgin body, you jerked your head back into Ivan's fat cock as Gerald's tongue prodded on your hole.
Daniel was going insane over your lewd expression as you were getting overstimulated. Ivan laughs at Daniel's unreadable face, "Too scared to fuck this cutie? C'mon, we gotta help him become the best cheerleader!" Ivan said with a deep laugh.
Gerald then pulled Daniel to his side, your aching and throbbing hole was presented to him lewdly. "C'mon Cap...relax for once and fuck this tight and delicious hole." Gerald offered to Daniel.
Daniel gulped heavily, his sweaty hands grabbed your soft yet muscular thighs which made his cock twitch. He pushed your legs apart easily, your flexibility made his cock twitch once more as he stared at your pretty hole that was winking at him.
"Cap, c'mon, fuck his little brains out! You starin' at his ass like you fallin' in love...I mean, shit I would too." Gerald stated jokingly whilst the others agreed. Daniel glared at him briefly as he felt his heart pump in jealousy.
He had to be honest. Ever since the first day of college, when he saw you dressed up like a stereotypical preppy cheerleader, he always used to scoff at those people, but you...you were just so...fucking cute and so nice.
The way you waved and smiled at him as he was just looking at you whilst he was walking in the campus, the way that you randomly gave him his favorite drink before a football match to 'boost your energy!'...why are you so fucking cute?
Daniel's hazel eyes shined as he grabbed your hips and the hot tip of his cock prodded against your throbbing hole. "I-I'm...gonna go in now." He said, his voice cracking in the process.
Your sex twitched cutely, it was like you saying 'go ahead, use me', Daniel's cock and heart throbbed as he accidentally roughly shoved his long and thick cock in your sex, making you moan loudly and your eyes tear up.
Ivan groaned as he felt the vibrations of your moans on his sensitive cock, making more precum ooze into your warm mouth. He laughed, "Woah there Cap'! I always knew you were a rough guy in the field, but I didn't know it was with sex too!" They all laughed as Daniel panicked slightly.
He soothingly rubbed the side of your hips with his rough hands as you relaxed around his cock. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." Daniel said, panic and worry evident in his face. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest, almost like you saying that it was alright.
Daniel felt his face heat up even more as he started thrusting into you at a gentle pace, his hand started groping your pretty chest, tweaking your cute nipples, making your sex spasm around him. His eyes furrowed in frustration, 'Goddamnit...you're so cute.' He thought as he started thrusting faster.
The two twins finally ended their squawking and decided to let your two hands pleasure them both. Luke moaned softly as he felt your soft hand gently massage his cock, whilst Lucas used your other hand vigorously to pump his dripping cock.
Ivan pulled Gerald next to him and Gerald whipped out his thick and girthy cock, "I'm gonna pull out of your mouth for a sec' babe...'cuz you're gonna worship both our cocks." You nodded mindlessly as Ivan pulled his cock out of your mouth with a lewd pop.
You started licking Gerald's fat and musky cock and kissing Ivan's long rod. At this point, your mind has melted like butter. All of the football team was using you like a sex toy, whether or not if they were rough or not, they were so good at what they were doing...at football and sex.
Everyone started speeding up their pace as you slobbered onto Gerald's cock, making him groan. Ivan jerked off his cock on top of your face, his precum dripping onto your cute, fucked out face.
The two twins moaned loudly as they used your soft hands to jack off their cocks, Daniel started fucking you animalistically, making you moan loudly on the two cocks that were in your mouth now.
Everyone started moaning aggressively, as if they were doing the hardest and toughest of practices and drills...well...technically they were, just with you. You felt their cocks chub up as you felt an orgasm build up in your sex.
The final stretch, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as they all started spurting ropes of cum onto your body and into your mouth. You gulped down the cum in your mouth, your mind was working on autopilot at this point.
They all panted heavily as Daniel was still fucking you like an animal, your sticky hands went to his back as he adjusted your position for you to look at his face. Your cum stained face was so cute...Daniel hugged you whilst closing his eyes.
"Damnit...you're too cute!" He said whilst he came agressively into you, along with him, you also had your orgasm, making you moan lewdly and hug him back. You all panted heavily as Daniel pulled out of your used hole.
They all looked at each other and smiled in a smug way, telepathically saying to each other, 'Holy shit, we just fucked the cutest cheerleader.'
The two twins carried you to the showers where they cleaned your body. Gerald and Ivan brought you some clean clothes and snacks, you blushed a bright red as after they were fucking you like no tomorrow, they were now treating you like a prince.
The whole team made you relax as they cracked up jokes and silly stories as Gerald massaged your aching body. After a while, the whole team waved goodbye to you as they went home. Except Daniel.
Daniel sat next to you in silence, his face was flushed as he silently handed you his phone. "Please give me your number..." He said softly as you blushed. "O-okay...um...I can't believe you'd want to have sex with me again after absolutely wrecking me." You joked out with shy chuckle.
"N-No! I want to go on a date with you...that's why I asked for your number." Daniel said nervously. "Oh." You muttered out as you shakily typed in your phone number in his phone.
"T-Thank you!" He said quite loudly, he winced at himself as he stood up and suddenly kissed your soft lips. He pulled away with a shocked expression, as if he was shocked at himself for kissing you. "B-...Bye!" He blurted out as he left the locker room.
You placed your hand on your lips, and smiled slightly. You squealed softly. "Cute..."
.
.
.
(THIS IS SO BAD I'M SORRY GUYS.)
1K notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 16 days
Text
Fashionably Challenged
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: you and Max may not exactly be the paddock’s most stylish couple, but you wouldn’t want it any other way
Tumblr media
You wake up to the sound of Max rummaging through the closet of your shared hotel suite. Rolling over, you see him laying out two matching outfits — the Red Bull Racing team polos, skinny jeans, and sneakers you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.
One set for him, one set for you.
“Morning, liefje,” he says, catching your gaze. “I have our outfits for the day ready to go.”
You smile sleepily. “Thanks, babe. You know me too well.”
Max grins as he walks over and climbs back into bed, throwing an arm around you. “Of course I do. Can’t have my girlfriend showing up to races looking anything less than perfect.”
You laugh and playfully shove him. “Oh shut up. You know I’d show up in a potato sack if I could.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” he says with mock seriousness. “I would never let you embarrass me like that.”
“Embarrass you?” You scoff. “Please, like you even notice what I’m wearing half the time. You’re just as bad as me when it comes to fashion.”
Max opens his mouth to protest but then shuts it, shrugging in admission. “Okay, fair point. But that’s why I always get you the same thing I’m wearing. So there’s no way we can mess it up.”
You consider this for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We make a pretty fashionably challenged couple.”
“The most fashionably challenged,” he agrees with a laugh. He pauses, gaze growing serious. “But I like it that way. I like that we match.”
Warmth blooms in your chest. “Me too.”
The morning passes quickly as you get ready for the race. True to form, you both pull on the matching outfits without a second thought. As you’re walking out to the car, Max stops you.
“Wait,” he says, taking your hand and turning you to face him. He looks you up and down appraisingly. “You look perfect, just like always.”
You can’t help but beam at the compliment. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
He grins. “Not nearly enough.”
“Well I do,” you say, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, schatje,” Max murmurs against your lips. “Now let’s go kick some ass today.”
The race goes well, Max taking the checkered flag to the roar of the crowds. As you’re waiting to congratulate him, a podcaster approaches you with a microphone.
“Hi there,” she says brightly. “I’m Lottie from The Racing Line. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple quick questions?”
“Oh, um, sure,” you’re a bit caught off guard.
“Great! So first off, you and Max always seem to be wearing matching outfits to the races. Is that something you two purposely coordinate as a cute couple thing?”
You feel your cheeks flush slightly. “Oh no, not at all actually. The truth is neither of us have much fashion sense at all. So Max just gets me the female version of whatever he’s wearing to make it easy.”
The podcaster looks disappointed. “Oh, I see. So it’s not some adorable couple tradition then?”
“Well, I mean, I guess in a way it kind of is?” You say quickly, feeling guilty. “Neither of us are really into fashion, so we end up matching by default anyway. I think it’s sweet that we always end up coordinating without even trying because we’re just so in sync.”
She perks up at that. “Aww, okay, I can see that! So even though it’s not on purpose, you’ve made your own cute little tradition out of it just by being so aligned. That’s really romantic.”
You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
“Well thank you so much for your time,” she shakes your hand. “And congratulations to Max on another win!”
“Thank you,” you reply as she walks away.
A few minutes later Max emerges, helmet under his arm and face lit up in that way you love. You throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.
“Congratulations baby, you were amazing out there as always.”
“Thank you, schatje,” he says, squeezing you close. He pauses, smile turning teasing. “Did you enjoy chatting with that podcaster earlier?”
You pull back, eyes narrowing. “You saw that, did you?”
He chuckles. “Of course I did. I always notice you.”
“Well then you also saw me have to completely backtrack and come up with some sappy story for why we match when she thought it was a cutesy couple thing,” you say dryly.
Max shrugs. “It kind of is though, isn’t it? Maybe not on purpose, but it’s become our thing.”
“I guess you’re right,” you admit. “I told her it was romantic how in sync we are, always coordinating outfits without even trying.”
“Hmm, I like that,” he says, grinning. “We really are pretty in sync, aren’t we? Two fashionably hopeless peas in a pod.”
You laugh. “That we are.” You look at him fondly. “But I love our way better than being one of those obnoxiously coordinated couples.”
“Me too,” he agrees. “Though I will admit ...” His gaze grows more serious. “Part of the reason I like matching is because it makes me happy to walk around wearing the same thing as you. Like we’re a unit, you know?”
Your heart skips a beat at the soft vulnerability in his voice. “Max Verstappen, you big old romantic,” you tease gently.
He shrugs but you can see the pleased look in his eyes. Sudden understanding washes over you.
“Wait a minute … is that why you got me the same outfit the first time? Not just because you thought it would be easier, but because you wanted us to match?”
Max stays silent for a moment before breaking into a sheepish grin. “You caught me.”
“Oh my god!” You shove his shoulder playfully. “You big sap!”
“What can I say? I like having my girl on my arm looking like the power couple we are,” Max says, pulling you close again. “Fashionably challenged or not.”
“If only everyone out there making you out to be the villain could see the cuddly teddy bear you really are. I absolutely love it,” you murmur, stretching up to kiss him. You can feel him smile against your lips.
As you break apart, Max squeezes your hand. “Come on, let’s go celebrate. In new matching outfits, of course.”
You pretend to roll your eyes exaggeratingly but allow him to lead you towards the exit, your hands intertwined. You truly wouldn’t have it any other way.
***
You and Max are curled up on the couch in your hotel room, his arm draped around you as you lean into his side. It’s a rare quiet moment between races and you’re savoring the feeling of Max’s fingers gently carding through your hair.
“Hey Max?” You say after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
“Hmm?” He hums in response, not looking away from the football match on the TV.
“I got an interesting offer today.”
That piques his interest and he turns his head to look at you. “Oh yeah? What kind of offer?”
You take a deep breath before answering. “A sponsorship deal, actually. From Oscar de la Renta.”
Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, that’s … really great, liefje. I’m so happy for you.”
But something in his tone makes you frown slightly. “Are you though? You don’t sound that excited.”
He gives you a half smile. “No, no, I am! That’s a huge opportunity for your career and image. Having that kind of sponsorship deal is amazing.”
“But?” You prod knowingly.
Max lets out a breath, smile fading. “But I guess part of me is a little disappointed and maybe … worried?”
“About what?”
“Well,” he shifts uncomfortably. “I like being the one who picks out your outfits for the races. Our little unintentional matching tradition has kind of become my thing, you know? I’m worried if you get sponsored by some big designer brand you won’t wear the outfits I pick out anymore. That we won’t match.”
His tone is carefully casual but you can hear the undercurrent of vulnerability. Your heart clenches in your chest.
“Oh Max ...” you murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You really like our matching outfits that much?”
He averts his eyes but nods. “Yeah. I know it sounds silly, but I just … I like how in sync we are. How happy it makes me feel when we show up to the races looking like a real team. Like we’re truly partners in everything. I don’t want to lose that.”
The softness in his voice breaks your heart a little. You take his hand and give it a squeeze.
“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” you tell him gently. “Because I never would have accepted that offer anyway.”
Max blinks in surprise. “You wouldn’t?”
You shake your head. “Not a chance. First of all, they were pressuring me to only wear very high-end stuff, none of which really feels like my personal style. But more importantly ...” You lean in closer, maintaining eye contact. “They don’t have a men’s collection. So they couldn’t sponsor you too.”
Realization lights up his gaze. “Oh ...” he says softly.
You nod. “Exactly. I told them thanks but no thanks. Because no designer wardrobe is worth giving up what we have.”
Max looks stunned. “You … you turned them down? Just to keep matching with me?”
“Of course I did,” you say affectionately, poking his chest. “I would never give that up. How could I say yes to some fancy sponsorship that meant not having my fashionably challenged other half by my side, both looking like total goofballs in the one outfit the world thinks makes up the entirety of our closet?”
A slow smile spreads across his face and he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “So much.”
You relax into his embrace, overwhelmed by the rush of affection. “I love you too,” you whisper. You pull back slightly to look at him. “Did you really think I’d give up matching with you over that?”
“I don’t know,” he admits, looking a little sheepish. “I guess a small part of me was worried maybe you’d be tempted by the glamor and exposure of being a designer brand ambassador.”
“You know me better than that,” you affirm. “Our matching looks are too special to me. I adore everything about our little tradition — the fact that it started because neither of us cares about fashion, to you always picking out my outfits, and how happy it makes both of us to show up to races coordinating with each other.”
You take Max’s hand, intertwining your fingers. “Don’t you see, my love? It’s not really about the clothes at all, it’s about us. About how perfectly aligned we are in this little part of our lives. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”
Max’s eyes have gone suspiciously bright, his free hand reaching up to cradle your face. “But liefje … you could have had any designer clothing you wanted.” His voice is thick with emotion. “You turned that down … for me?”
Unable to find the words, you just nod, blinking back your own tears.
“I can’t believe it,” Max breathes out shakily. “You never cease to amaze me.”
You offer him a watery smile. “Well believe it, my love. Because there’s nothing in the world more precious to me than you and our bond. I wouldn’t sacrifice that for anything.”
A single tear escapes to trail down Max’s cheek and you quickly brush it away with your thumb. Seeming at a loss for words, he pulls you into a fierce hug, tucking your head under his chin as you settle into his embrace.
“I love you,” he finally whispers into your hair. “So damn much.”
“I love you too.” You pepper kisses along his neck and jaw until you reach his lips, capturing them in a deep, slow kiss that tries to convey every unspoken word of devotion and adoration.
When you finally break apart, Max gazes at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.
“God, you really are perfect,” he murmurs, running a hand reverently through your hair. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
“No,” you shake your head with a soft smile. “I’m the lucky one. To have someone who loves me so fiercely, someone I love just as much in return.”
Max lets out a watery chuckle. “I think we’re both the lucky ones then.”
You settle back against his chest as he wraps his arms securely around you. For a while neither of you speaks, lost in your own thoughts as you simply bask in each other’s presence. You let your eyes drift shut as Max’s fingers resume their gentle motions through your hair.
Eventually you break the silence.
“You know we’re going to have to get even cuter matching outfits now to make up for it,” you murmur teasingly.
Max’s chest rumbles with laughter against your cheek. “Deal. Anything you want, schatje. I’ll make sure we’re the most adorable fashionably challenged couple at every single race from now on.”
You smile at the warmth and conviction in his voice. “No one could ever call us uncoordinated.”
“Never,” Max affirms, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head. “We’re perfectly matched in every way that matters.”
You sigh contentedly as you snuggle further into his embrace. In that moment, you know he’s absolutely right. You couldn’t imagine a better match than your Max.
1K notes · View notes
kooeater · 9 days
Text
First place | JJK
Tumblr media
smut | angst | slight fluff
Jungkook x f.reader
warnings: unprotected sex, impregnation kink, degradation, daddy kink, very submissive reader, spanking, blowjob, toxic behavior, dirty talk, manipulation, missionary, second wife!reader, angst, jk has 2 wives 😭, mentions of cheating/homewrecking, age gap, older!jk, arguing, craziness. | note: i do NOT encourage this behavior irl.
“Please don’t stop.” your desperate whimpers come out when you feel your climax creeping up on you.
“Tightest fucking pussy ever, fuck.” Jungkooks hips snapped into yours, your leg over his shoulder as he fucks into you.
You needed to fuck. You needed to fuck someone, someone who could fuck you for hours. You go to your husband, who you share. You fell in love with Jungkook, so deeply in love.
Jungkook already had a wife, and when he told her he was having an affair she crumbled completely because she loves him deeply too. She loves him so much she agreed that you can stay in the picture, as a second wife, but she will always remain the first wife, the real one he loves.
“Going to cum in this pussy, going to fill it up.” manly groans escape his lips, the feeling of your gummy like walls clamping around his throbbing cock sending him into a state of euphoria.
“Cum in me please, please breed me daddy I need it so bad please please please.” You then reach your orgasm.
You cum on his cock, thighs slightly shaking. You feel his pace go a bit rougher, and quicker.
“Yeah cum on my cock just like that”
your sharp nails come out and scratches his back, digging into his flesh. Scratching him was not just because of the pleasure you were feeling and the need to grip onto him, but also as marking. Although you were a second wife, you wanted to imagine it was just you and him.
The thought of any other female around him has you marking him more than usual. Even though the other female is his own wife, his first wife, you needed to leave your mark on him.
“Take my cum, fuck feels so good.” he then lets out his warm white cum into you, making you clench around him.
“On all fours.”
You quickly obey, getting on all fours and presenting yourself to him. Your ass pressing against his still hard cock.
you then felt a spank to your ass, making it jiggle back. You whine at the feeling, the stinging pain sending sensation to your body and also making you even more wet for him.
“Should you give me this pussy again? Or should you open that mouth for me?” he brings his tip to your sensitive slit, moving it up and down.
“Want you in my mouth.” you let out. You still wanted him to fuck you but you been craving and dreaming about having him deep in your throat.
“Wanna suck my cock baby? Such a good girl.”
He quickly moves to your face, having you still on all fours. It’s like he wants to leave you in that position and just go around and observe you, thinking of what else he wants to do to you before he goes back to his boring first wife.
Before you know it, his cock is in your face. His hand pumping himself before letting the tip touch your tongue. Your mouth is opened, ready to take him.
“You look so pretty, such a good slut for me. Ready to take cock.” his dirty words made you more eager to have him inside your mouth, so you take his cock in your hand and shove it down your throat.
“Mm fuck.” he curses out, the feeling of your wet mouth and tongue moving up and down his length causing an overwhelming pleasure to him.
Just as you start getting messy with the blowjob you’re giving, the door opens.
“Jungkook we need to talk-“ it was her. It was his first wife.
Her eyes slightly widens as she sees you on all fours with her husbands cock down your throat. Salvia dripping from the corners of your mouth and his cum all on and inside your pussy. Her eyes travel from you to her husband, who’s fully naked. Tattoos and muscles on display, clearly deep in the moment.
“Yunah fuck, not now babe alright?” you then take his cock out of your throat, completely over this man.
“Clearly. I’ll be downstairs with lily and eunbi.”
She maintains her cool, closing the door and quickly leaving downstairs. The mentions of her 2 daughters with Jungkook making you feel a bit of shame. Especially since lily is only 6 and eunbi is 4. 
“Sorry about that baby, alright let’s get back to it. Missed your touch already.” His words are poison. You want to please him more. You want to be all over him so bad, but not like this.
It’s been 6 long months of being married to Jungkook after a year of fooling around. You think of how young you are, only 22. Is the rest of your life really going to be days filled with this man? This 36 year old, beautiful man you love so much. What if you reach 35 just like his wife, would he still love you?
“Baby?” his voice brings you out of your thoughts.
“I’m tired, I think we should get some sleep. Plus I’m sure they need you right now.” you quickly get up and put your nightgown on, not caring that his dick was still hard and waiting for you.
“Hey? Baby we been over this. I know this situation is hard but I love you so much. I love my kids, I love you, and I love our little one coming soon.” His tattooed hand caresses your tummy, you both have been having unprotected sex the past month, so you both are sure you’re pregnant. He’s cum inside of you way too many times for you not to be.
“What about her?” you chirp out sadly.
“Baby. You know it’s just for the kids. She’s still my wife, and I still care for her deeply but-“ you cut him off before he could speak more.
“But what? But you still give her kisses? But you still take her out in dates with the girls, having this picture perfect family life, but you still sleep by her side, but you still have sex with her.”
you let out what you wanted to let out for a while. You know you’re at fault for this too, but you can’t help it. You fell in love.
“I hardly even kiss her! I do when we’re around people who know we’re married maybe. I take her out with our kids because they deserve to have family memories. It doesn’t matter if I sleep by her side because you’re all I think about. And the few times I did have sex with her which only been twice these past 6 months I used condoms because I only want to feel you. She can’t even make me cum! You agreed to this, remember that.”
He was raising his voice a bit, already having his pajama pants on. You didn’t care with what he had to say, you didn’t care for his excuses you were just upset at everything. Upset at him, upset at his wife, upset at yourself, upset with the world.
“It doesn’t matter Jungkook if you use condoms or if it was a few times, It’s the way you have sex with her too! Soft slow romantic and all of that shit and what do I get? I get fucked like a whore. And yes I love it but I also want you to love me more. Be romantic with me too. Stop being romantic with her and start focusing on me. Please I can’t do this anymore.”
Tears starts to escape your eyes, you really couldn’t do it anymore. You were falling apart. Everything would be good if she was just out of the picture.
You didn’t hear Jungkook say anything, you just felt his large muscular arms wrapped around your small weeping frame.
“I love you. I love you so much and I’m sorrry.” you let him try to comfort you, because yet again you let the love you have for him take over you.
“Sorry isn’t enough Jungkook. I love you too, and I never want to stop loving you but I can’t be second place anymore. Please. Please I can’t do this.” you sob into his chest.
The night ended on a good note surprisingly. He reassured you and comforted you to the max. He told you everything was going to be okay, he told you it was all going to be over soon. That it would just but you two and the kids, including the one inside you. He slept by your side, holding you so close. Kissing you and coddling you, showing you so much love.
Your night ended amazing, while on the other hand.. Yunah’s morning was depressing but expected. Sadly. She woke up alone, with divorce papers on her nightstand. She walked around the huge house that will no longer be hers. She saw that her daughters were already at school, taken by their father. She catches you in the bathroom upstairs, with a pregnancy test in your hand. You didn’t notice her, too focused on the 2 lines on the test. She didn’t need to be close to see the 2 bold red lines.
You were too caught up in the moment, that you’re pregnant. You’re going to have a child of your own, with your husband who is now all yours. You do feel bad, but you’re now finally in first place.
-
-
Hi guys!! 💌 I have a fic for y’all finally omg this was so messy 😭 like the story is messy the characters are messy like it’s just a mess but it was honestly fun writing. I’m thinking of writing some major like.. crazy plot type fics, idk if I should focus more on plot of smut.. I try both but sometimes it gets hard :( but anyway another yapping from me, im going to listen to lana and kali uchis to inspire more fantasy idea to write about hehe 💋🎀
- belle 🩰
1K notes · View notes
dumbseee · 1 month
Text
oh shit.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pro hero!bakugo who has a crush on you.
pro hero!bakugo katsuki x idol!reader.
genre: fluff
__
- the first time bakugo agreed to do an interview was because todoroki and izuku were also there. the top three heroes were asked all sorts of questions before the journalist finally asked thee question. "so~ you guys are so private, we don’t really know much about you. so let’s get to know our top three heroes! first question, who is your celebrity crush?" she asked, a smirk on her lips as she looked at the three heroes in front of her. izuku blushed, fumbling with his answer, todoroki crossed his arms on his chest, saying that he had no time for that kind of stuff, and bakugo scoffed, crossing his legs on the small table in front of them. "celebrity crush? do you have other shitty questions or are we done?" he glared at the interviewer who nearly melted on the spot. izuku elbowed his friend and offered an awkward smile to the poor woman. "but aren’t you a big fan of y/n? i heard you sing her songs under the shower, one time." shoto chimed in, face blank. "what?! no! what are you saying ice hot?! i’ll fucking crush your face, come here!" bakugo jumped from his seat and had to be restrained by izuku and a few security guards, meanwhile shoto sat there, wondering what he did wrong this time.
- the interview went viral, with everyone making fun of the mighty dynamight and his little crush on you. he nearly sent shoto to the moon after seeing all those edits of you and him on social media or your fans calling him the president of the fandom. your fans are even shipping you together! and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t like it. he actually made a fake twitter and tiktok account where he’d like and favourite every single edit/tweet about you. he’d be smiling and blushing like a high schooler in the dark of his room.
- he has a locked drawer in his room, where he keeps all your albums and merch. he’d literally set on fire whoever manage to open it and discover his little secret.
- he spent hours in front of his phone, the screen showing your dm page on instagram, he wanted to dm you so bad. make the first move and try to get close to you, but bakugo was a coward, as funny as it sounded, bakugo was very intimidated by you. he ended up throwing his phone away, he’d try again tomorrow.
- one day he got called for an incident involving a woman and someone who tried to break into her house. nothing major so bakugo went alone, imagine his shock when he saw that the victim was you and the man was your stalker who’s been following you and harassing you for months. he immediately saw red and grabbed the man, slammed him to the ground and threatened to shove a bomb down his ass if he moved. "are you okay?" when you saw dynamite arrive from your window, you immediately ran outside, since you felt safe with the hero around. you hugged yourself and nodded, looking down at the shaking man, but bakugo didn’t believe you. soon enough, police arrived to arrest the man and everyone left, leaving you alone with bakugo. "he’ll leave you alone now, i’ll make sure of it." he smiled gently, putting a hand on your shoulder you forced a smile but slowly lost it when you saw him getting ready to leave. you quickly grabbed his hand and looked at him with pleading eyes, the sight made his heart jump. "please, will you stay with me?" how could he say no?
- bakugo couldn’t get rid of the pink color decorating his cheeks. it was the first time he met his celebrity crush and bakugo wished it was different. he wished he came earlier so you wouldn’t even be aware that your stalker was trying to break into your home. you offered him some food and water but he declined everything, you were getting ready for bed when the incident happened so you were exhausted from practice and rehearsal. you also felt bad for keeping him with you when he was clearly busy or tired from patrolling. "i’m so sorry for bothering you, i know he won’t come back, but i’m still terrified." you played with your hand and felt tears burning your eyes. "don’t. you don’t have to be ashamed for feeling scared, but trust me when i say this, this bastard won’t ever come close to you again." he said it in such a low tone, you thought you imagined it. you nodded and hugged him, which surprised him to no end and also made him as red as a tomato. he didn’t know what to do with his hands so he simply put them around your waist, gently patting your back.
- you fell asleep with the light on, bakugo was sitting on the chair next to your bed and kept his eye on you. he stayed with you till the sun woke up. he noticed every detail of your face, the small freckles decorating your beautiful nose, your long and dark lashes, your full and soft lips and overall your beautiful face. you were, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman bakugo had ever seen in his life. while looking at you, he felt a weird sense of possessiveness and protection wash over him. he wanted to protect you and make sure no one would ever hurt you again.
- when you woke up, you saw a small note on your nightstand, "had to leave for work pretty girl, but don’t worry i’ll see you soon. here’s my number: xxx - xxx - xxx" you didn’t know why but you smiled at his note. of course, you immediately registered his number and sent him a lovely text, thanking him again for yesterday and inviting him for dinner some day. you also signed it "your celebrity crush (;" bakugo almost choke on his coffee when he read your text.
1K notes · View notes
latenightdaydreams · 1 month
Text
König x Secretary!Reader (fem)
MDNI 🔞
Quick note: 💕 THANK YOU 💕 to everyone for the love and support on my stories! I’m happy people are enjoying them💗
For more: Master list
Part 2 here
>CW: fem/afab reader, oral, anilingus, p in v
.
.
.
Imagine coming in to work for König as his secretary after he reluctantly agrees to let the captain hire help for him. Walking into his office the first day to see the massive man with piercing pale blue eyes. A sniper hood with bleached tear looking stains covering his face. He just looks at you. Not being able to see his facial expression because of the mask so you just stand there frozen. So frozen with fear looking into his eyes that you failed to notice the massive hard on he has growing in his pants.
Your first few weeks there he didn’t talk much to you. Handing you files and asking for little earns to be ran for him, like coffee or lunch pick up. Slowly he started to talk more, “Danke, bitte, nien, ja.” His eyes always boring into yours as if he was looking into your soul. It was unsettling, but the pay was great and he has never actually been rude to you so you put up with it.
You had gotten into the routine and started to enjoy the job. König was an easy man to work for as long as you did things as expected and he never over worked you. As a plus he turned out to be sweeter than expected. Coming into work on your birthday to see a simple cupcake with frosting in your favorite color on your desk and a card stuffed with cash. König never actually says “Happy Birthday”, but this is just how he expresses he cares.
“Thank you, König.”
He gives a simple nod and goes back to typing up a report.
Six months in he asks you to stay after, he has to talk to you. You begin to worry, anxiety spikes as you realize you might be getting fired. Trying to think about the mistakes you might have made, you sit a chair across from his desk. His eyes look away from the computer to meet yours.
Before you know it, you’re naked, bent over his desk. His mask pulled back over his head as his face is smothered between your ass cheeks as his tongue laps at your tight asshole. One of his hands has two of his thick fingers pumping in and out of your wet pussy, the feeling of your tight gummy walls wrapping around his fingers making him want in now. His other hand stroking his cock, using his own precum as lube.
“Was willst du?” His eyes travel to his fingers in your pussy before pulling them out and shoving his tongue in your slightly stretched hole.
“I want your cock,” your voice trembles with pleasure.
König lets a pleasured sigh hearing your words before pulling away from your sweet pussy. Finally, he lines up his fat cock with your entrance.
An animalistic groan escapes his lips as he pushes the tip in. König places his hands on your ass cheeks to spread them apart; his eyes watching as your pussy struggles to stretch, swallowing his cock inch my inch. Eyes fluttering to the back of his head. He feels like he just found heaven in your tight grip.
He was already falling in love; this moment just sealed the deal. A week later you came into work to find a key on your desk attached to a “K” keychain.
Part2
1K notes · View notes
3rachaslut · 8 months
Text
kinks i think skz would have (pt. 1)
Tumblr media
warnings: smut MINORS DNI!! read sub headers for warnings ig?
(some include: degrading, slapping, dumbification) let me know if i’ve missed anything xx
youtiful was playing whilst i wrote this lol help
part 2, part 3
Tumblr media
chan — mirror sex
because seeing you underneath him breathless and begging for more isn’t enough, he needs to see ALLLL of you all at once
would grab your hair whilst telling you to look at yourself, his “beautiful girl”
NECK KISSES. OMG SO MANY NECK KISSES
“most gorgeous girl in the world aren’t you baby?” he would make you agree by rutting quicker into you when you mewl a yes
grabbing your thighs, ass, tits. pretty much groping you all over
lee know — breathe play
no because he’s actually OBSESSED with watching your eyes roll back into your head from bliss
he’s so degrading with his words too?! “pathetic little slut gone all dumb on my cock?”, “be quiet whore” etc
would ask you if you want to breathe but would just laugh at you when you choke out “yes sir” like haha you actually thought?
FACE. SLAPPING.
would let go of your throat for like 3 seconds just to hear you gasp for breath and then his hand is around your neck AGAIN damn
“only good girls get to breathe baby”
changbin — gagging
would deadass SHOVE your head down onto his cock just to hear you choke on it, you’re heaving and everything
oml the amount of spit falling down your chin and onto your thighs is CRAZY
“fuck yesss baby girl. such a good girl taking my cock. shit-” whilst you’re literally suffocating on his dick
yanks at your hair, tugging you off him just to force you to look up at him with mascara running down your face and bloodshot eyes
he will NOT stop rutting his hips tryna get his cock further down your throat even though it’s allllll the way in man?
“love seeing you this much of a mess doll. fuck-”
hyunjin — breeding
i swear you and hyunjin have the most beautiful, loving sex ever !!!
like, he will cup your face with both hands whilst planting kisses everywhere on your face and calling you beautiful names
“my angel, you’re so pretty”
will practically BEG you to let him come inside you. “just wanna feel you around me baby”
WHIMPERING HYUNE FR
would tuck your hair behind your ears so the sweat on your forehead doesn’t make it stick to you :’(
“you’re just too beautiful sweetheart, please let me come inside your pretty little pussy?”
jisung — squirting
literally the most pussy drunk member of the group?!
as in, he would quite happily eat you out for hours but his FAVOURITE sight is you squirting (like, he’s actually obsessed)
literally BEGS for you squirt on his face because he wants to “taste you”
his chin would be such a mess from being allllll over your pussy but he’s the happiest he’s ever been seeing you moan uncontrollably from his fingers inside you
“want you to squirt all over my fingers baby, that’s it, thereeee you go”
KISSES KISSES KISSES EVERYWHERE
felix — dress up
you wanna rile felix up? wear a maid outfit and watch that guy FOLD
would deadass blush so hard when you ask him if you look pretty like duh, the man has a tent in his pants?
“did you dress up for me baby?”
SO MANY COMPLIMENTS !!
“you look incredible baby girl, can i touch you?” and how could you say no when he asked so politely aww :’(
“you drive me crazy y/n wow”
seungmin — orgasm control
he. is. filthy. with his dirty talk and loves degrading you whilst edging you over and over again omg
would actually laugh in your face when you beg him to let you cum
“who says i will even let you cum tonight baby? bad girls don’t get to cum do they?”
the way he speaks to you like he would speak to an actual dog gets you HORNY. “do you think you deserve to cum doll? have you been a good puppy? i don’t think you have”
and on the nights he would let you cum, he would force you to do it over and over again whilst laughing at your pleas because your pussy is RAW
“isn’t this what you wanted pup?”
jeongin — voyeurism
no because innie loves NOTHING more than to watch you pleasure yourself oml
like, you’d forbid him from touching himself just to see him get so worked up from the scene in front of him and he’s such a whimpering MESS omg
“please please let me touch myself baby, your pussy is so pretty”
SO. WHINEY. !!
like, he’s practically on the verge of tears from being so horny and not being able to touch his cock :(
when you finally let him touch himself over you, he would thank god and omg his whimpers when he comes are so subby omg omg omg
3K notes · View notes
pedge-page · 5 months
Text
Cravings
Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!reader
Tumblr media
Summary: Pussy eating king frankie, who gets his aforementioned nickname when you tried to come up with ways to prevent him from relapsing back to coke.
Warnings: soooo much oral —pussy eating, cum eating, grinding, dry humping, cumming in pants, kissing, Frankie's mouth is everywhere, alcohol, drunk sex, unprotected sex, little dub con since Frankie doesn't ask if he can cum inside, overstimulation, free use esc situations
Notes: This is NOT the Frankie free-use series I mentioned before; I'm a bit delayed with writing it, so here's something else i had started as a drabble but then... did not stay a drabble. Please like and reblog if you enjoy this fic!
18+ ONLY
- - - -
Rather than drowning himself in coke, Santi slyly suggest he drowns himself in pussy instead. The guys around the table laughed, but you kind of agreed and told him you'd help set him up on hookups. Frankie didn't want to go through the trouble of having to find a potentially different girl each night. Plus, his cravings were sporadic. He would need his fix in that moment whenever it came.
He remembered back when you had drunkenly admitted guys could hardly satisfy you because you had a high drive, usually cumming on your fingers at least 6 times a day before bed, often times more on lonely weekends. He was left speechless at the time, but now he couldn't get Santi's proposition mixed with that knowledge of you out of his head.
You tried to cook him meals instead or buy him hoards of candy, but the idea was stuck in his mind. You knew you'd be a convenient alternative, given you only lived less than 10 minutes away and was always around when he needed help. But you were afraid of crossing that line with one of your all time best friends.
Eventually, being around him so much—"on call" as the boys put it—left you susceptible to his sweet touches, ghosting lips against your ears, sporadic twitches and jittery hands, antsy fingers dancing along your hips. You considered the option heavily before finally caving: you were doing this to HELP him, as his friend. Just a little relief every so often when he absolutely needed it.
You came 9 times on his tongue the first time. It wasn't even that he was trying to make you cum, but the eagerness in the way he moved so fast, growling and moaning at the taste, his lips attached and never left your heat. His big nose just perfectly bumping your clit each time he pointed his tongue dove deep into your craving hole, curling up and hitting that soft spot inside you left you shaking and crying out his name, back arched and fingers clawing at his shoulders.
He was sated for almost 6 days (and you needed the ample recovery time because not even your fingers could make you cum so hard) before the craving hit again. Incessant knuckles pounded your doorstep. You had barely unlocked the door before he was shoving himself in and devouring your mouth with his. "I need another hit, carniño."
He didn't wait for a response, knocking you on your ass on the sofa and stripping your sweats and panties off before throwing one leg over his shoulder. Flattening his tongue, he licks a long strip along from your hole to your clit, obscenely guttural moans from the back of his throat filled your ears. He looked wild-eyed and crazy, as if starved for weeks and was finally given the sugar rush of the century.
You inevitably move in with him, claiming his spare bedroom, worried about how bad he gets when he goes anything longer than a few hours without you.
He makes you ride his face until you're suffocating him, and he still can't get enough. Your juices flood his mouth and nose and his eyes roll back as he loses air. You try to get off and apologies, but he's caged your thighs with his muscular arms, holding your pussy flat against his face as he devoured you more, ignoring your squirming pleas. He hums against your nub, the vibrations sending you into your own addictive high. You cum again, and again, and again, and soon you're tugging his hair, crying his name with fat tears down your cheek, leaning back and scratching at his chest to let off, but its useless. He's so lost in your cunt that you become light headed, barely holding on to the headboard as your lower body continues to spasm.
He only pulls off for a minute, squeezing his nostrils to force out your juices. He's so dazed, pupils blown wide, beard and mustache drenched in your slick, so pussy-drunk and in love that he wants to do it again. "Sweetest fucking cunt, I swear. Just wanna curl up and live inside here, querida."
You offer to suck him off but he gestures embarrassingly down, where you turn to see a dark splotch on the belt-line of his pants where the tip of his spent cock peaks out, dribbling little white drops onto his lower belly, having cum untouched just from eating you out.
It gets to the point where you lock yourself in the bathroom when you take a shower just to have 10 minutes of peace. Your pussy is so puffy, clit so swollen from his constant assault day and night that you have to calm down and remind yourself what good its doing for him. He hasn't touched the white powder in weeks.
He's wondered where you've gone when he sees the bathroom light illuminate under the door. He knocks a few times, then raps harsher with his fists, calling out your name. You tell him you just need a minute. The makeshift locks on the bathroom door of Frankie's apartment isn't designed to keep an ex militant out, and he just pushes it forward with enough force that it gives way and he let's himself in. You go to cover yourself when he pulls the shower curtains away, but the same needy expression on his face as he narrows in to the slit between your legs has you aching once again. It's Pavlovian, the way he stares, practically drooling, hands twitching by his side, sending signals to your cunt to start dripping for his appetite. He spins you around so your cheek is smothered against tile, ass out towards him, not caring about the water drenching his baseball cap, grey shirt and pants as he kneels on the shower floor and puts his face between your legs. He moans when his lips start sucking on your nub, tongue thrusting in and out of your hole. He keeps you in your spread position with his arms holding your waist, making their way to spread your ass for him to dive further in, knees between your heels. You reach one arm back, knocking his cap off as you card your fingers through his damp hair, gripping it when you cum and grind yourself back on his scruffy face.
He's otherwise so gentle, so soft spoken, but when he gets between your legs, something primal takes over and you can hardly recognize him.
Sometime in the evening while you were watching a movie, you see his knee bouncing next to you. You has snapped at him earlier and refused his hunger when he peppered kisses all over your neck, down your back, then tried to yank your pants down while you were cooking dinner for the two of you, nearly burning your arm on the stove from such force.
You hated that you had outright refused him for the first time, but the truthfully the swollenness between your legs needed rest before he wrecked you again. He's biting his lip so hard, stealing glances at you before rubbing his hair and shifting his cap back on.
You instead take your top off, having gotten comfortable enough to go without a bra when it was just the two of you. Frankie is a bit shocked, only used to seeing you strip your pants first before anything else.
You crawl over to him before sitting in his lap, thighs spread over his. He swallows the lump in his throat, unable to take his eyes off of your tits right in front of him. His legs are still bouncing in agitation, the movement making your breasts jiggle right in front of him. He groans, licking his lips, breathing heavily.
"She needs a break, Fish," you said quietly, your soft and small hands seeking his big and callous ones, pulling them up over your waist before letting them settle on your cups.
He doesn't hesitate or ask further, head leaning forward and lips immediately latching on to your nipple. He moans, eyes closed as he sucks around the areola, tongue swirling your pebble as he kneads them in his hands.
You're trying so hard not to grind down on his cock, instead sitting upright on your knees so you're not fully resting your damp panty-covered crotch against the tent in his pants. The position is more head level with your tits, but he doesn't like that. He grips your hips to bring you flush against him, gasping out when you instinctually start rocking your hips steadily against his clothed length.
He noticed how heavily your chest is flexing, glaring up at you to see your brows furrowed, face tilted towards the ceiling trying not to cum on him. He cups his hands against your cheeks and brings you in for a sweet kiss, his lips slotting perfectly against yours as his hands return to palming your breasts. He presses his forehead against yours so your eyes meet, goosebumps wracking your whole body at the lust behind his eyes, and something more you couldn't place. "So good to me, querida. Perfect lips"—he gently pecks your lips—"perfect tits"—then a generous kiss to each of your breasts—"my perfect girl." You could smell the scent of your pussy on his lips, as if they'd be stained there now. Kissing your lips, your throat, collarbone, down the valley of your breasts, and erect nipples, and all the way back up again, was enough to keep his mouth busy and his craving subsided. And it worked almost as well, the two of you cumming sticky and wet against one another in your underwear with heavy sighs and sated eyes; you had calmed him down enough to get him to remove his clothes and put on a fresh pair of boxers before tucking him to his own bed with your favorite blanket.
As you tip toed into the bathroom to prep for a bath, you stared at your naked reflection: how swollen, and red your breasts were, covered in raised bite marks the shape of Frankie's jaws. Among your new scars are the faded scratches and bruises of Frankie's fingertips on your waist, stomach and lower back from how incessantly he devours you while his face is buried in your sopping pussy, like he had to sink his claws into you so you wouldn't slip away as he feasted. You look like you were attacked by a passionate lion.
His sweet nothings every time he stared into your eyes was what really turned you on. You tell yourself that it was just the withdrawal symptoms talking. That he was basically just high on a new drug.
-
To you, it must have looked like Frankie's craving were only getting worse with how increasingly frequent his lips found themselves attached to your body. In truth, his desire for coke steadily grew less, and it wasn't the replacement of the powder that he was seeking from you but rather the insaitability of finally having you that grew stronger.
The rest of boys noticed the effects you're having on Frankie too. They see it when he meets them for a drink every other Saturday, the way he anxiously taps his foot under the table, glancing around like he's unsure what to do, where to go, because he can't sit still. It's the signs of his cravings kicking back in, and they're all worried at first. But it's not until you up show later and slide into the booth next to him that they notice: Frankie casually drapes his arm around your shoulders like he always did—that part was normal. But what was new is how they could visibly see Frankie's heart rate slow, the way he slumped against the bench and completely calmed down from just your presence.
They also couldn't help but notice the way his eyes raked you with a mix of lust, love, and obsession, his dark gaze never once leaving the sight of you the entire night. All the while you laughed and chatted with them about your week, oblivious to the change in demeanor of your friend from just a few months ago.
You assured the boys that you two weren't fucking—and it was true, you hadn't slept with him once. albeit a few blow jobs, it was exclusively just Frankie eating you out or kissing. You were very hopeful that his cravings were going to go away soon since its the longest he's been off coke. You were even talking to your old landlord to see if your old apartment a few blocks away still had openings since you'd be moving out of Frankie's place soon. Santi couldn't help but see Frankie's dejection, his arm sliding away from you as he excused himself to get more beer.
By the end of the night, Frankie was drunk out of his mind. Will suggested he slow down so he wouldn't pass out before he could walk home. It sounded like a good plan, until Francisco glanced over to the bar and saw you sitting there and smiling at a guy who was flirting with you. Fish took a giant gulp of his beer, downing the entire jug before slamming it on the table and striding out of the booth towards you. He overheard the guy asking if you had a ride home tonight.
"She comes home with me. Every. Night," he slurred, his sweaty palm skimming possessively over your jean-clad thigh and snaking between your legs, face coming so close to you that your noses slide against each other. Frankie's eyes bore into yours with so much desire, it bordered on range. You knew those were his craving eyes. The pungent smell of alcohol on his breath made you flinch as he tried to pull you in for a kiss. You quickly tell the confused guy that he's your roommate and you need to get him home immediately. You could barely finish excusing yourself from the stranger before Frankie was dragging you out of the bar. You managed to wave to the others, making a drinking gesture and pointing to Frankie before being yanked into the street.
He was stumbling all over the place, breath uneven as you hoisted him up to lean against you, eventually making it through his apartment entrance and turning the key to unlock his unit.
With a renewed sense of urgency, Frankie slammed the door close behind him and pinned you up against it, his hands roaming your body as his mouth desperately sought yours. "Craving," he mumbled against your open lips. "Need"—tongue forcing its way into your mouth, he nipped at your lower lip, sucking on it before releasing with a pop— "need you," he panted.
"I know, I know—Jesus Fish. I'm—gonna help—gonna take care of you—" you breathed, ashamed of how quickly you could feel your panties dampen. It never bothered him though, and only encouraged his sweet tooth more. You weren't nearly as drunk as him, but your few margaritas made you extremely susceptible, even welcoming, to his touch.
You hummed into his shoulder when his hard bulge rubbed purposefully against your covered core. He bit your earlobe as he fisted your low-neck shirt before pulling it down roughly, the fabric tearing away. You gasped, ready to scold him but he pressed his mouth on you again, teeth clashing, his hands slotting down your body to pinch, grope, scratch at any bit of skin he could get.
"So—so good t'me. Always taking—such good care of me, cariño."
His fingers dip into your ass and hoist you up so he's carrying you, your arms and legs wrapped securely around him as he boldered through his apartment, kicking his door open before tossing you on the bed, watching you bounce. You never break eye contact as you unbutton your jeans at the same time Frankie pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it aside to unfasten his belt and zipper.
Clambering over you to reseal your lips, you breath in his scent, hands exploring his tone arms, down his chest and muscle middle all the way to the little pooch of tummy hanging. His hands gripped your jeans and pulled them along with you down the length of the bed, bringing you to the edge, his grip pushing up on the back of your thighs so your knees are digging against your rib cage, pulsing pussy exposed at his mercy. "I fuckin' love this pussy, querida," he growled before burying his face between you folds for the thounsandth time. "So fuckin' wet for me," he mumbled against your thigh, nipping at the skin.
He ate you out with precision, eyes hungry watching you, determined to make you fall apart quickly. He wasn't doing it for his own taste, but the sheer satisfaction of watching you writhe for him, knowing your body inside out as the only one who could get you like this. He's languidly thrusting two fingers in and out. You didn't even need to be stretched: he'd practically been prepping you for months now. You're crying out into the air as you cum, hips bucking against his nose with your heels digging into his shoulder blades. Frankie pulls away, kissing your stomach and up your tits before making you taste yourself on his lips.
The feeling of his cock nudging your entrance make your once dazed eyes go wide and alert. He pauses, suddenly worried. He can't read your expression, time dragging out too long and it scares the fuck out of him that he's taking it too far, that you didn't agree to this.
He had wanted to tell you everything right then: how he dreams of you riding him, or when he fists his cock in the shower when you're at work to the thought of what your tight walls would feel like wrapped around him when first violates you, how he automatically gets aroused now when he just sees you or smells your laundry, or admitting how many times he's actually cum in his pants without you noticing when he is buried between your legs, dying to have you cum around his cock instead of his tongue.
It's not until you sense his hesitation that you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close, sharing the same breath of air, nodding as your calves hook over his ass and squeeze his hips, the tip of his flush cock slipping in to your wet heat.
You both sigh heavily into each other's mouth when he takes charge again and thrusts fully inside you. He scrunches his eyes closed, forehead dipping down to your breast bone to revel in the overwhelming feeling of the tight space inside you.
You warmly caress his hair to bring him back up to you, kissing him and whispering, lips trembling, "Don't—don't think about it. Just... just use me."
His heart sank: You probably just thought this was another hit for him.
He didn't want to think about the fact that you were everything he'd needed in that moment, the image of perfection beneath him beautifully laid out for his eyes, his touch, but not for his soul. He gritted his teeth, pulling out then slamming back in, jolting your whole body up the mattress. It was fast, rough, and not at all how he wanted your first time to be with him, but he couldn't control his urges. He was gasping loudly as he fucked you, your cunt gushing around his member, the obscene sound of slick and skin slapping skin echoing in his otherwise empty apartment.
He brought his thumb to rub messy circles on your clit, sending you into a spasm of praises and expletives, but the most satisfying sound was his name repeated over and over again.
He barely manages to pull out before jerking his cock only twice and creaming all over your folds and clit. Groaning in post orgasmic bliss, he watches you heaving and shaking, filthy pussy covered in his seed. Half of his mind is only working now as he slides back down to lap you clean with his mouth, his own saltiness filling his throat, fingers scissoring inside to get your juices flowing, obsessed with the sight in front of him: your back arched off the bed, heels digging into his lower back as his hands pinning your hips down flat so he can work his mouth over you. And then you're cumming again, so angelic on his tongue, your sweet moans going right to his dick, hardening once again as he ruts into the mattress. He nips your clit and sucks, reluctant to pull away as he lines up and splits you open. You scream out, and if it weren't for the way your barely-recovered battered walls kept sucking him back in, he'd be worried you're in pain. His hands hook under your lower back, lifting you off the bed as he plows into your squelching cunt over and over again.
Youre both covered in a thin layer of sweat, the pillows and comforter of his bed strewn haphazardly around the floor as he dominates you. The headboard slammed recklessly agains the wall, and neither of you cared about your neighbors trying to sleep at 1 in the morning. He ignores the oversensitivity of his cock and your clit, forcing you both into an unexpected climb of another orgasm like it was a primal need.
It was happening without warning; he should be asking for permission, but he knew you took the pill, and he's been dying to release inside you from the moment you first let him put his lips on you. You're cumming on his cock again, hips bucking and grinding against him without your clit being touched, and he was done for.
With a harsh cry, he climaxes again, his length flooding your womb with ribbons of white. His arm shoots in front of him, flat on the bed next to your ear to hold himself up so he didn't crash down on you as his hips jerked, pushing his seed deeper in to you.
He rested most of his weight on top of you, labored breaths combined into one. He kisses the top of your nose, whispering "thank you," unsticking your sweaty bodies as he rolls you two over to have you lying on top, your head next to his. He pats your hair over your ear, pebbling your forehead and eyelids in kisses. His cock twitched in your spent heat, cum leaking out and dripping down to his balls and on the bed.
"Glad I—could...help..." you mumbled, eyes already closed as you drifted into sleep.
His softening dick slipped from your pussy, warm hands wiping you with his shirt before settling you gently on a pillow. He watched the gentle rise and fall of your breaths, naked and fast alseep on his bed. He pulled his sheets higher to your shoulder, his heart beating faster at the way you snuggled further into his pillow.
Frankie stared at the ceiling for hours, hand on his forehead in anguish, wondering how the fuck he was supposed to tell you it wasn't cocaine he was craving last night.
- - - -
Part 2: Crash
Series masterlist
2K notes · View notes
joelmillerisapunk · 1 month
Text
Free Use, Full Plate
Joel Miller x F!Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Masterlist
Wordcount: 1,741
Summary: Joel's frustrated after a long day at work and takes it out on your pussy. Basically just pwp
Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, assplay, fingering, f!oral receiving, consentual freeuse, breeding & house wife kink, food waste, reader has hair, breasts, and wears yoga pants. Joel calls reader sexy momma.
Notes: Just a life I wanna live, tysm to everyone who voted in this poll this was the winning vote. Ty @saradika-graphics for the divider.
Tumblr media
Joel walks through the front door, tired and frustrated after a long day of work. The smell of dinner cooking fills the air, and he sees you bent over, grabbing a pot, your shirt riding up, revealing the small of your back.
You've had an agreement for a while now - free use, where Joel can take what he needs without any hesitation or resistance from you. It's a release for him, a way to let go of the frustrations of the day without taking them out on anything or anyone else.
As he approaches you, he can feel the tension in his body begin to ease. He reaches out and runs his hand over your shoulder, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingers. You don't stop what you're doing, but he can hear your breathing quicken as he continues to touch you.
He pulls your shirt up and over your head, exposing your bare back. He leans down and presses his lips to your skin, feeling you shiver beneath his touch. He unclasps your bra, letting it fall to the floor.
As he cups your breasts in his hands, he can feel himself getting harder. He moves closer, pressing himself against you as he continues to touch you. You're still cooking, but he can hear the soft moans escaping your lips as he kneads your flesh.
He reaches down and undoes his pants, freeing his cock. He slides it between your legs, feeling the heat of your body through your stretchy yoga pants. No matter what was agreed upon Joel never pressured you to dress or look a certain way and it made you feel much more confident in yourself and your relationship. He rocks his hips back and forth, letting himself enjoy the sensation of touching you, even if it's just through your clothing.
“Mmm, Joel, you're home," you say, looking over your shoulder at him with a smile. "How was your day, my love?"
He doesn't answer right away, instead focusing on the feeling of your body against his. He can feel the heat of your pussy through your pants, and he presses himself against you harder, grinding his hips in slow circles.
“Don't wanna think about it. Just tell me what you're makin' baby," he finally says, his voice weak with desire. He slides his hands down your sides, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pants. He pulls them down, exposing your bare ass. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him, getting on his knees and pushing his face right in there, taking the globes of your ass and making them jiggle onto his cheeks.
You giggle at the feeling, but you can't help feeling aroused as his large nose hits some of your folds as he shoves his face in as deep as he can, almost like he wants to suffocate the bad day away. "Just pasta," you reply, focusing on stirring the sauce so it doesn't burn.
He finally stands up and replies, "Smells delicious baby, just like you." he says, leaning down to press his nose into the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale of your sent. “Mmm fuckin’ heaven.” He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him as he continues to grind his hips.
You let out a soft moan as he nips at your shoulder. You can feel yourself getting wetter, your body responding to his touch, but you try your best not to let dinner burn. He reaches down and slides a finger inside you, feeling how wet you are. He groans at the sensation.
"Joel," you say, your voice trembling with pleasure. "I'm almost ready to serve dinner."
"That's alright, love," he says, his voice strained with desire. "I can wait."
You turn around in his embrace to kiss him, but he stops you, his eyes darkening. He pats the countertop beside the stove. "C'mon, get up here darlin'."
"But the food." You point at the pan.
"You know, I could eat this whole dinner and still not be satiated in the right way. Now get on the damn counter, you sexy momma. Gonna fill you up real good.”
With those words, you scramble to the other side of the stove, sitting on the countertop. He starts rubbing his hands across your naked thighs, slowly working his way up until his hands reach the center of your chest.
“Come closer, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Wanna taste you.” He leans close then lowers his head and bites the tip of your nipple. Your nipples start to erect instantly, and your core feels tight. “Fuckin’ perfect.” He gets lower so his face is right between your legs.
Your stomach clenches as he kisses your inner thigh. “Joel…”
His eyes look up into yours. He pulls his mouth away just enough from your skin so he can talk, "Worry 'bout the sauce, I'm busy havin' my appetizer." His tongue swipes your clit, licking it gently before he begins sucking on the skin. You let out a soft sigh when his warm tongue touches your clit once more. You try to tend to the dinner currently cooking but it's near impossible to do so with him rubbing and sucking at you. “Keep stirring," he adds with a playful smirk. He slips two fingers between your legs, sliding them into your folds and circling one slowly before he plunges two more in. He starts moving faster. Your orgasm starts building in your belly.
"Mmmm, Joel..." you whine, grabbing onto the edge of the counter, digging your nails into the wooden surface. "I'm gonna come…" You start thrusting against his hand.
Joel stands up, not letting you finish and takes a step back, his eyes roaming over your naked body. "You're so fucking beautiful, baby, I'm the luckiest man," he says, his voice loaded with desire. He reaches out and runs his hand over your breast, tweaking your nipple between his fingers.
You gasp at the sensation, your body already on edge from his earlier ministrations. "Joel, I need to finish dinner," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.
"I know, darlin," he says, his hand sliding down your stomach and between your legs. He starts rubbing your clit in slow circles, making you moan with pleasure. "I won't let you burn it."
He helps you off the counter and turns you around so you're facing the stove, your naked ass pressed against his hips. He reaches around you and grabs a pan of garlic bread, placing it in the oven. "Now, let's get back to work," he says, his voice low and seductive.
He slides his cock between your legs, the head of his shaft pressing against your wet folds. He starts rocking his hips back and forth until he slides inside you, fucking you slowly and deeply. "Keep stirring, baby," he says, his lips pressed against your ear.
You cry out as he hits that sweet spot inside you, your body trembling with pleasure. "Joel, I'm gonna come," you gasp, your fingers tightening around the spoon.
"Not yet," he commands, his hand reaching around to rub your clit.
He starts fucking you harder, his hips slapping against your ass. You can feel yourself getting close, your orgasm building deep in your belly. "Joel, please," you beg, your voice trembling.
He reaches up and grabs your hair, pulling your head back so he can kiss your neck. "Uh-uh, you wait till I say so," he growls, his teeth scraping against your skin.
Joel continues to thrust into you, his pace steady and relentless. You can feel your orgasm right on the brink, your body feels like it might explode "Joel, please," you whimper, your fingers tightening around the spoon you were supposed to be stiring the sauce with. "Joel, I can't, m'gonna come please," you gasp, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts.
“Yes you can, baby just a little more,” he says, pulling your hair and kissing the side of your head, holding onto you tightly. “Wanna fill you up, make you round and beautiful.” He slams into you, his balls hitting your ass. You feel juices dripping from his length, mixing in with your own fluids as they drip down your leg and onto the floor. He pushes his hips in harder and harder, causing you to cry out as you feel the intensity of his hard, thick flesh hitting your walls.
You can feel your heart racing as well, your mind clouded with lust and pleasure. "Oh fuck, oh god, Joel,” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping the edge of the countertop for dear life as you feel your climax building. “Oh Joel! I'm coming'!" You cry out as your body convulses against him. You hear him release a long, loud, gutteral moan, releasing into you.
As you come down from your high, he presses his forehead against your shoulder, breathing hard as he lets go of your hips. He finally pulls out, his cock glistening, soaked with your juices. He turns you around pulling you in close. "I think dinner's ready," he says, smirking.
You laugh and wrap your arms around his waist, "I think you're right," you say, your hands running over his chest. You open the oven door to be met with disappointment. The garlic bread is burnt to a crisp, and so is the sauce.
Joel walks up behind you, "you orderin' or am I?"
You both can't help but chuckle at the situation and decide to order pizza, knowing it's a quick and easy solution. Joel wraps his arms around you as he gives you his phone to search for a local pizza place online, placing the order together.
Once the order is placed, you turn around in his arms, looking up at him playfully pouting, "I guess we'll have to settle for pizza tonight."
Joel leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering, "I'd eat pizza every night if it meant I could come home to you like this."
953 notes · View notes
godslino · 3 months
Text
MIGRATION | bang chan first date series. strangers to lovers.
Tumblr media
pairing: bang chan x fem!reader word count: 5.5k genre: fluff, romance, falling in love at first sight summary: you've never been lucky when it comes to dating, but a blind date with chan just might turn that around
Tumblr media
chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡
author’s note: hello and welcome to my first date series!! i seriously had so much fun writing this and i’m so excited to continue with the other members. i hope you all enjoy! if you liked it, please remember that any and all feedback is appreciated!! happy reading <3
“So…I know a guy.”
You groan, throwing your head back against the cushion of the booth you’re currently shoved into. Changbin drops his fork to gesture at you with his hand, a look of exasperation on his face.
“Come on, I haven’t even said anything yet!”
“The problem is that you’ve said anything at all.” You say, glaring at him as you reach for your drink.
Changbin, as much as you love him, is notorious for being the worst wing man in the history of wing men. His most recent pick, Jooyoung, was a friend of his from high school. A freelance writer, the owner of a snazzy apartment in one of the more sophisticated districts of Seoul, and conveniently single. They’d recently reconnected after a mutual friend threw a party that they both went to, and he was ecstatic to try and set the two of you up.
You’d been reluctant, rightfully so, but Changbin is anything but a quitter and you also just so happen to be the world’s biggest pushover (his pout is just too good, okay?), so you’d agreed on the off chance that it just might work out.
Long story short, it didn’t.
Jooyoung was probably the biggest asshole you’d ever been on a date with. Not that you were surprised, though. Changbin’s circle of friends when he was younger mainly consisted of grade-A douchebags who were born with a golden spoon in their mouths. Perks of being born into a wealthy family and attending one of the most elite private schools in the country, apparently. Changbin had attended a university on the outskirts of Seoul for a reason. Lesser known, laid back—to study music of all things—and the sole reason for his father’s headache, as he’d put it. That’s where he met you.
“Okay, but I think this guy might be the one.” He makes air quotes around the two words, and you scoff as you cross your arms.
“And what would you know about that?”
“Um, a lot? You’re my best friend, I know exactly what you’re looking for.”
This is the part where things go south—or so you assume. Changbin puts on the puppy eyes, jutting his bottom lip out to hell as he stares at you from across the table. You glare at him dead on, unwavering. He won’t get you this time. Not over your dead body.
“At least let me tell you about him?”
“No.”
“I met him at the company. He makes music just like me, only slightly better. And you know how I am, I don’t just say that stuff. That means he’s really good.”
Choosing to ignore him, you go back to poking at your noodles.
“He’s from Australia. Born here, moved there when he was young, then moved back to pursue music. Kinda ballsy if you ask me. But he speaks English, so at least communication won’t be as much of an issue as other guys.”
A small crack in your composure. The idea of this guy growing up somewhere other than Korea is…pretty intriguing.
Despite moving here three years ago for school, it’s still kind of hard to communicate when your Korean could be more polished than it is. You’d basically kept to yourself for the first year until you met Changbin. He’d easily integrated you into his group of other music majors, even though you stuck out like a sore thumb as both a foreigner and a stem major. But if it weren’t for him, you think that you might’ve hauled ass back home a long time ago due to the isolation. So to be introduced to someone who can speak english, under the prospect of possibly dating them, sparks a bit more interest.
Changbin notices the slight twitch of your brow and smirks, one side of his mouth pulling downwards. Bastard.
“Hmm, what else? Oh! Dude’s got a killer set of dimples. You’re into that, aren’t you? You used to go on and on about that younger guy in your physics class during senior year. What was his name—Jeongsuk? Jeong—Jinyoung? Jeongin! It was Jeongin.” Changbin snaps his fingers like he’s impressed with his own memory, pointing at you as you fix him with a blank stare. “He has dimplessss.” He sing-songs for emphasis.
And, really, this should not be the breaking point. You’re better than this. You’re not so shallow that you would throw away your pride for a man you’ve never met—let alone never seen before—all because he has dimples.
But, once again, you’re a pushover. A big one. So yeah, fuck it.
“What’s his name?”
Changbin blinks like he wasn’t expecting you to fall for it. “Seriously? That’s what got you?”
“You have five seconds to tell me his name before I change my mind.”
He scoffs, mouth agape. “I went as far as disregarding my own talents to play up this guy and his music making abilities—”
“Five.”
“—tried to give you a little bit of a backstory, too—”
“Four.”
“—and the dimples are the final nail in the coffin?”
“Three.”
“Chan! His name is Chan. God. Just—stop counting. It freaks me out.”
Chan. You throw the name around in your brain for a bit, pointedly ignoring the way Changbin is whining about how you sound like his mother when you do the whole number thing. It’s kind of…cute. Not enough to conjure up an idea of what he might look like, but putting a name to a faceless stranger with dimples in your head is gonna have to do for now.
“You swear this guy is normal?”
Changbin rolls his eyes. “Define normal.”
“Okay, let me rephrase myself,” you push your plate forward, laying your forearms on the table as an indicator that you’re serious, “Is he an asshole?”
“No.”
“Hm. Okay. So that’s a maybe.”
“What the fuck? I just said no.”
“Yeah? You also set me up with Jooyoung, remember? The guy who literally started flirting with the waitress right in front of me five minutes into our date? And then proceeded to yell at her when his fries weren’t salted?”
“How was I supposed to know…” Changbin mumbles, looking off to the side guiltily.
“Nevermind. Just—if this goes bad, I’m blaming you. And then I’m never going on a blind date with one of your friends again. Matter of fact, I’m never going on a date again, period. Deal?”
Changbin grins, the apples of his cheeks shiny under the restaurant lighting. He holds his hand out for you to shake, and you take it hesitantly, grimacing when he uses his strength to jostle your arm like a ragdoll.
“Deal.”
🎥🍿
Any hope you had for the date going smoothly starts to dwindle once Chan texts you the day of.
You’d gotten his number from Changbin, who had so kindly already given Chan your number before he’d even broached the subject with you. The resulting lecture about privacy and consent may or may not have extended the rest of your time at the restaurant, a sheepish Changbin rubbing at the back of his neck while you berated him for his lack of common sense.
When your phone buzzes on your bathroom counter, Chan’s name flashing across the screen, you mistakenly think that he might be messaging because he’s early. Which, given the fact that you were standing in nothing but a towel, hair still wet from your shower and face covered in moisturizer you hadn’t rubbed into your skin yet, would be less than ideal.
Chan [12:32p.m.]
Hey! I’m really sorry to have to do this, but can we push the date back an hour?
Something came up at the studio
I tried to get out of it but I have a deadline to meet, client probably won’t be too happy of their track isn’t done on time
Great. Already off to a rough start.
In his defense though, you appreciate the fact that he’s messaged a whopping two hours in advance. Most people probably wouldn’t be bothered to allow that much of a grace period.
You [2:33p.m.]
no worries!!!
you didn’t buy the tickets yet, did you?
Chan [2:34p.m.]
Nope! So we should be fine
I’ll purchase them for 6 and then be there to scoop you up around 5:30 if that’s cool?
You [2:36p.m.]
sounds perfect
hope stuff goes well at the studio!!
Chan [2:40p.m.]
You’re sweet
Thank you, I’ll see you soon :)
You’re sweet. You stare at the words on the screen, your brain buffering for a moment. A big fat loading circle floating above your head.
Suddenly it’s way too hot in the bathroom. You blame the fact that you shower with the water cranked all the way up to boiling, because really there’s no other explanation for the warmth spreading throughout your cheeks.
To be fair, it’s been almost a year now since you’ve had any sort of positive interaction with another male. On one hand, your last relationship ended in a ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ ordeal that most definitely gave the impression that it was you. On the other hand, most of the dates you’ve been on have ruined themselves within the first five minutes, never really giving you the chance to feel any sort of connection. Cocky attitudes, overly pushy encounters, and even someone who walked into the cafe you were seated at, took one look at you, and walked right back out. That one still hurts.
It’s a little sad that Chan is the only guy out of the mix whose elicited any sort of reaction out of you. Especially since you haven’t even met him yet.
The extra hour that you have to compensate for flies by a lot quicker than you expect, and before you know it Chan is messaging that he’s five minutes away.
You take one last glance in the mirror: a pair of light wash jeans that sit right above your hips, black halter top bodysuit, and a thin cream colored cardigan to tie it all together. Simple and cute. A movie date doesn’t really call for all the dramatics, and you’d hate to overdress for a first impression.
You’re in the middle of reapplying your chapstick when the doorbell rings.
Take it easy, you say to yourself, inhaling deeply as you reach for the door handle. You let the air out with one final huff, swinging the door open only to be met by a bouquet of daisies directly in front of your face.
You blink in surprise. Well that’s a first. Before you get a chance to speak, the bouquet is being lowered, and the moment Chan’s face comes into view causes a small gasp to fall from your lips.
He’s…cute. Beautiful, even. A bright smile, dimples that tuck themselves into his laugh lines as his eyes disappear into crescents much like the moon, and lips that make your head spin when his tongue darts out to wet them nervously. His hair falls messily across his forehead in a faded hue of purple with hints of brown, definitely unconventional and an obvious result of one too many washes, but he makes it work. He makes it work well.
He clears his throat, brings a fist up to his mouth to emphasize it, and then grins. “Hi there.”
It takes a second for your brain to catch up. Even his voice is attractive. He’s using english, which leads you to assume that Changbin has already told him that you’re not from here. His accent is there, not too noticeable but also strong enough to be picked up on.
“Hey.” You smile, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.
“These are for you. I, uh, as an apology for being late. Is it too much?”
You shake your head quickly. “No! No, these are—they’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you…Chan.” His name rolls off your tongue hesitantly, but it all disappears as soon as he flashes that smile again.
“Good, I’m glad,” his voice catches the breathy end of the laugh he lets out, “This is weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I don’t really do well with this kind of stuff. But you look really nice, and I’m excited. My car is parked just out front if you’re ready to go.”
Honest. Awkward. A laugh that makes you want to hear it over and over again. You were sold the minute his eyes met yours. Chan offers his elbow for you to take like you’re in some cheesy romance movie from your childhood.
Yeah. This one is definitely gonna go well.
🎥🍿
Chan might not show it, but he’s just as nervous as you are.
You wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance that he spent an entire forty-five minutes deciding on an outfit, only to settle with some jeans and a white shirt, a jacket thrown on top for some color.
When Changbin first proposed the idea of going on a date with you, he was adamant that he wasn’t looking for anything right now. But as soon as you opened the door, eyes wide and looking like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, he’s glad he said yes.
“So what movie are we seeing?” you ask, frowning when Chan laughs. “What? What’s funny?”
“It’s a surprise.” He smiles, rushing forward to hold the door of the car open for you. When he puts his hand against the top part to block your head, you have to suppress the smattering of butterfly wings that start to clamor against your ribcage.
Chan is sweet. He double checks that you’re buckled in before driving off, he asks if there’s any specific music you want to listen to before foregoing it all entirely to ask about you instead, he listens with an attentiveness that has you feeling seen and heard, and he smiles with such genuinity and warmth that you feel cold once it disappears. You stare at him in awe, like he’s a figment of your imagination.
Chan’s been staring back, too. He spares glances in your direction when you’re not looking, feels the steady thump of his heart gradually increase whenever you lean a little too far to the left when he makes you laugh, and he thinks your voice is prettier than anything that’s ever played on the radio.
You learn more about him as he drives. He moved back from Australia when he was seventeen, he’s got two younger siblings and an adorable puppy named Berry back home (and pictures on his dashboard to prove it), he prefers Australia’s summers over Seoul’s winters but he finds more inspiration here in the city than anywhere else. You resonate with the fact that he doesn’t really have anyone here besides a small circle of friends. No family, no one to fall back on when things get tough.
Chan talks like he’s an old friend, like he’s re-telling a story you’ve heard a thousand times. He makes it easy to fall into step with him as if you’ve been here all along.
By the time the two of you get to the movie theater, the initial awkwardness that had hung in the air is gone, replaced by comfort and ease. Chan throws the car in park and all but books it out of his seat to open your door for you, and you giggle when he makes a dramatic bow as you exit.
The theater is kind of busy for a Thursday night. There are families with their kids lined up to get tickets and groups of teenagers at the concessions, all of which make for a crowded lobby. Chan glances down when you place a hand on his arm, mostly because you want to stay close, but also because it’s hard to ignore the feeling of being magnetized towards him. He smiles, bending at the elbow to allow your arm to slip into his.
There are cardboard cutouts along the sides of the lobby, all of which serve to promote the newest animated release about a family of ducks. You squint at the showtimes once the two of you make it to the front of the counter, letting your eyes scan the movie titles until you finally land on—
“Two tickets for Migration, under Bang Chan.”
The girl behind the counter looks up, her eyes bored. She can’t be any older than sixteen, most likely resentful about the fact that she’s stuck here on a school night. “The kids movie?” She asks, unimpressed.
Chan braves a glance in your direction and—ah, there goes that grin again. Cue the butterflies. You’d agree to a three hour long showing of static and white noise if it meant he’d never stop doing that.
“Yup, that’s the one.”
Tickets in hand, a smiling Chan right next to you, and a massive line for popcorn that honestly might have the two of you late for the previews. “We’re seeing a kids movie?” You ask, moving up a spot in the line.
“Mmhm. I spent so long looking at all the options. The romcoms seemed boring, Bin mentioned that the newest superhero movie was bad, and I figured a scary one was too cliché,” he eyes you sidelong, “Unless you’re into that.”
You huff out a laugh, not really expecting him to be so straightforward, “I definitely am not.”
“Hm, so the old yawn to put my arm around you trick won’t work?” His eyes are playful, but something about the idea of being in even more contact with him has your stomach doing flips.
“Nope. Sorry. Seen that one before.” You say, making him laugh, his earring dangling when he drops his chin towards his chest.
“I guess I’ll have to figure out something else then.”
Another thing you learn about Chan is that he enjoys interesting food combinations.
“You like peanut m&ms?” he asks, throwing a bag of them onto the counter when you nod your head. After he pays, he pockets his wallet and turns to you with a bucket of popcorn tucked under his arm and a large drink with two straws in his hand. “Could you grab the candy?”
First door, theater one. There are a bunch of parents and their kids entering ahead of you, all of them buzzing with excitement. It’s a little funny, the fact that two grown adults—no kid in tow—are walking into the showing of a kids movie.
Chan leads you to the very back row. “For the kids, just in case they can’t see over us.” He quickly clarifies after noticing the way your eyebrows shoot up in silent question, but even in the dim lighting you can still see the tips of his ears turning pink.
“Taking me to a kids movie and then propositioning me in the presence of five year olds? You’ve got some nerve.” You say, timing it perfectly as Chan is leaning forward to take a sip of the drink that’s placed in the cupholder between the two of you. He sputters around the straw in surprise, coughing into his fist.
“That’s not—” You laugh, cutting him off as he stares at you with red eyes from his coughing fit. The mood shifts after that, and Chan visibly relaxes into his seat as he starts throwing jokes out a lot easier than before.
“Learned this from my dad,” he says, opening the bag of m&ms, “It’s my favorite thing to do at the movies. Haven’t been in a while because—well, I don’t really have anyone to go with.”
You watch as he dumps the candy into the popcorn bucket, shaking it to mix everything together. He reaches in to grab a piece of popcorn and an m&m at the same time, popping it into his mouth.
“Oh my god,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, “Forgot how good that is.”
When you don’t respond, he looks over. “You okay?”
Are you? You’re not sure. Every bone in your body is screaming bloody murder because Chan is making it really hard to not want to lean over and kiss the concerned frown off of his stupidly pretty face.
The thing about it is that you don’t do blind dates. And you most especially don’t enjoy them. But Chan is different. Chan holds doors open for you and makes corny jokes. Chan laughs at everything like it’s his last day on earth and he’s making up for lost time. Chan listens when you talk and responds with genuine interest. Chan compliments the little girl in the theater lobby who’s wearing a princess dress to watch the new superhero movie. Chan shares something as special as his dad’s favorite movie snack with you. Chan is just…Chan. And you like him. A lot.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just—thank you. For sharing that with me.” You say, the corners of your mouth lifting.
“Stop doing that.” He mumbles, eyes trained ahead.
“Doing what?”
“Smiling. It makes my head spin.”
Your heart slams against your chest. You’ve spent the entire date trying to make sense of the way Chan makes you feel, trying to put it all into words. Yet here he is, right in front of you, saying his thoughts as they come and absolutely ruining your resolve in the process. Like it’s easy for him.
There’s no time to answer when the lights go down, the screen up front widening to signal the start of the movie.
Just like any other kids movie, it’s easy to get caught up in all the surface level jokes while also understanding the themes. You and Chan laugh outwardly at some parts, hold your breath at the suspenseful ones. It’s almost like you’re a kid again, enjoying yourself fully for the first time in a really, really long while.
Chan was right, the popcorn and m&m combination is good. You reach back into the bucket for more, freezing when Chan does the same and his knuckles brush yours in the slightest of touches, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. It happens a few more times, each one leaving his hand lingering for far longer than the last, until eventually he makes a show of digging really hard for an m&m and hooks his pinky with yours in between the popcorn. It’s cheesy and cliché but god does it make your stomach do somersaults.
About three-quarters of the way through the movie, when it’s clear that neither one of you are willing to take it the next step further, you lean into his ear.
“You okay? You look kind of tired.”
Chan turns, confused. He’s certain that he wasn’t dozing off. He did have a late night last night. He was up working on the track that still somehow managed to hold him back today, hoping to have everything polished so that he didn’t run into any obstacles before your date. But that didn’t really work out in the end.
“Huh? No, I’m fine. Honest.”
“You sure?” you ask, a slight lift to your voice, “I don’t know, you looked like you were about to yawn.”
The light from the movie hits the left side of his face, illuminating all of his features in a way that makes your breath hitch. He’s pretty. So, so pretty.
Chan blinks, slow, and then his confusion slowly turns to one of understanding. Cue the grin.
“You know, now that I’m thinking about it…I am kind of tired.” He makes a show of fake yawning, stretches his arms above his head (and not blocking any children since you’re in the back row, thankfully), before bringing his right arm down and around your shoulders.
You spend the rest of the movie like that, tucked into Chan’s side while his fingers move gently against your shoulder. He’s unbelievably warm, and eventually you find your head resting in the spot just between his shoulder and his neck, his cheek pushed up against the side of your head. The position makes it easier to reach up and pat his eyes dry at the end, a single tear slipping out as he sniffled and mumbles a ‘M’not crying’ that has you giggling and doting all over him.
He doesn’t move his arm for the entire walk back to the car, and you momentarily mourn the loss when he opens the door for you (again!) so you can climb in. When he finally gets in on the other side, he says nothing, just reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours and places your joined hands on the center console like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times.
“Ready to go home?” He asks, looking over at you.
You glance down at your hands, then back up at him. “Is it weird if I say no?”
“Not at all,” Chan grins, throwing the car into drive, “I was hoping you would say that.”
🎥🍿
“For you.”
Chan plops down on the bench, a hand outstretched with a steaming hot chocolate ready for you to take.
“Thanks,” you smile, cradling the cup between your hands.
After some deliberation, you and Chan had decided to come to the Han River. It’s quiet, the bridge lights reflecting off the water as the sounds of the city fade into the background. The temperature is slightly on the colder side, the tail end of winter just barely there. When he notices the slight shiver of your shoulders after a particularly strong gust of wind, Chan shucks his jacket off in a heartbeat to drape over you.
“Oh, you don’t—”
“You’re cold,” he scolds, pulling at the collar of the jacket to tighten it around you. His hand lingers near the base of your neck, fingers itching to reach out and touch. He doesn’t though, just smiles and settles back into the bench. “Plus I think Changbin might actually kill me if something were to happen to you.”
“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “Ignore him. I’m not a baby.”
Chan takes a sip of his own hot chocolate, licks his lips to catch the excess. Not that you’re staring. “I’m serious. I mean, I get it. He told me that you’re here alone and stuff.”
You hum in understanding, turning your head to stare out at the water. “So are you.”
It’s Chan’s turn to look at you now, his elbows resting against his knees, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as his face turns unreadable.
The silence stretches thin, nothing but the sound of cars passing and a dog barking nearby. It’s kind of comforting in a way. Being on your own in a new place has been one of the hardest transitions you’ve ever had to deal with. There were times where it felt like a mistake, where you wished that you’d never even gotten on the plane. But then there were times where you felt lucky to be experiencing the things you are; to be able to try new things and pursue a life for yourself that you never thought possible.
“How’d you do it?” you ask quietly, turning to meet Chan’s gaze. “I mean, you were young. Seventeen is basically still a kid. Being alone in a place like this is scary as an adult, I can’t even imagine what that was like.”
Chan smiles, but it’s sad. His eyes twinkle with something like resentment, the lights from the bridge making it look like he’s glowing. A flame that’ll never burn out. “Would you believe me if I said I’m still figuring it out?” The end of it comes out as a laugh, but you can tell he means it.
“I don’t know, being a big shot music producer with deadlines and clients seems pretty figured out to me.”
Chan nods and stares at the cup in his hands. “My parents hated it. Still do, I think.” You don’t say anything. Chan is grateful for that; grateful for the space you’re giving him to explain. “They wanted more for me I guess. But I’m not sure that more would’ve necessarily been what I wanted, you know? I’m content with where I am now. I’m doing something I love, even if it took a while to get here. They don’t see it.” He chews his lip nervously, fingers playing with the soggy material of the paper cup’s rim.
Chan doesn’t know why he’s saying any of this. He’s not the type to completely bare himself out to anyone, to scoop away at his insides until there’s nothing left besides the hollowness he feels whenever he thinks about how he traded his life back home for a life of music. But you’re different somehow. Chan knew since the moment he saw you, felt it in the way your eyes lit up whenever he spoke and in the ease of how well the two of you got along. He was doomed from the start.
“I see it.” you say, your eyes still fixed on the water. “I might’ve only just met you today, but I see it. And I get it, too. Maybe not to the same extent, but the feeling of wanting to do something for yourself even if it meant losing something else. There’s purpose in that, in you. It’s okay to be selfish if it means you’re prioritizing your happiness.” You let the words settle for a bit, hoping that you don’t sound too shallow. When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking back.
“You don’t know me enough to say that.”
“I don’t have to know you to believe in you, Chan.”
A beat of silence, and then he’s laughing, short and punctuated as he lets his head fall forward with a small shake.
“You’re…”
“What? Corny?” you supply, smiling over at him.
“No,” he says, meeting your gaze. “Perfect.”
You huff out an incredulous laugh, looking away to hide the blush that’s spreading across your cheeks. “You can’t just—god, now who’s corny? Huh?”
“I never said I wasn’t corny.” Chan argues, sitting up to face you fully.
“Yeah but you can’t just say stuff like that.”
“Why not? I think you like it.”
Your mouth opens and closes quickly, lost for words. Chan’s closer now, a lot closer than he was before. One arm thrown across the back of the bench, loosely framing you in, he bends it at the elbow to bring a hand up and tuck your hair behind your ear.
“I never said that.” you mumble, your gaze flicking down to his lips and then back up again.
“You want me to stop then?” he asks, voice just above a whisper. You know what he’s implying the minute his fingers trace the shell of your ear, moving down slowly until they start playing with the collar of his jacket.
“Is it bad if I say no?”
Chan’s hand is warm to the touch, ice to fire. You lean into it. A moth to a flame, one that’ll never go out.
“Not at all,” he repeats, just like earlier, “I was hoping you would say that.”
A dog barking in the distance. Cars beeping as they pass by. A plane flying overhead. A group of friends laughing as they ride past on their bikes. The minute Chan’s lips connect with yours, everything fades, the sounds warbling together like static. Unintelligible; nothing besides the feeling of Chan kissing you matters.
It’s slow, nothing more than a press, but you feel it in every fiber of your being. Kissing Chan feels like the poles of the earth are colliding, meeting in the middle and sending its molten core spreading throughout your entire body. Warm, warm, warm. Chan is warm. He’s soft and gentle and his lashes tickle your cheeks when his eyes flutter closed halfway through because he was too busy etching your features into his memory.
You’re the first to pull away, admiring the way Chan’s eyes slowly peel open, lips swollen and pink. Unable to resist, you lean in and peck them once more, giggling when he blinks at you in shock.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been as compelled to kiss someone as I was just now.” You smile.
“Me too,” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t normally do dates anyways. At least not ones that don’t immediately go up in flames.”
“What about now?” Chan asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have I changed your mind?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. I kind of told Changbin that if this was a disaster I was never gonna go on a date again.”
Chan laughs and pulls you into his side, tucked right under his arm like the shape of him was molded in a way to make sure that you fit perfectly in his embrace.
“Is it bad if I say I like that idea?” He asks, glancing down at where your head is resting against his chest.
“Nope,” you say before leaning up to kiss him once more. He smiles into it when he feels your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, humming softly against your lips.
“Worst date ever, then?” he mumbles against your mouth.
“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling back to stare into his eyes, big and brown and brighter than the stars, “Worst date ever.”
Tumblr media
[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny ]
Tumblr media
© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.
1K notes · View notes