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seireiteihellbutterfly · 2 months

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Bridal Shop ft Nanami Kento

Rating: 18+, MDNI Warnings: Sex, vaginal and clitoral fingering, oral Featuring: Nanami Kento x female reader Word Count: 2590 Summary: A final dress fitting leads to something else when the bridal shop owner takes over your appointment A/N: All images are from pinterest and are linked at the bottom of the post for credit. Inspiration for the wedding dress was this.

You skipped merrily into the bridal shop, ready for the final fitting. The wedding was only 2 weeks away. A healthy pink glow was visible on your face. Most would say it’s because your wedding day is approaching. Your best friend would tease you that it’s because of the bridal shop owner.

The sweet old woman who had assisted you during your first fitting spots you immediately and waves you over to her. She grasps your hands with wrinkled knotted hands and smiles brightly at you. “Not too long now…You must be very excited!”

“Indeed I am!” You chirp back excitedly. “Will it be a while or…?”

“Not at all! We’re ready for you now. On straight through to the back. Fitting room 2.”

You thank the woman and waltz back into the stall. Not too shortly after the tailor comes in, exchanging warm greetings with you, asking you how wedding planning was going, as she carefully helps you fit into the dress, gently buttoning up the pearl fastenings on the back as she fusses with the skirt, whirling it out around you. Your breath catches as you look at yourself in the mirror.

The dress had been fitted perfectly, the waistline pure perfection to the last millimeter. With the tulle and illusion sleeves, it was like right out of a dream. You feel yourself tear up as you see yourself in the mirror. It was so pretty, beyond your imagination. Ever prepared, the tailor quickly offers you a tissue and a gentle smile.

“I’ll let you have a moment. Let it all soak in. Let me know when you’re ready to have it taken off.” The tailor exits quietly through the door. You spin around, admiring yourself from all angles. You’re so happy you listened to your fiance when he had insisted on going with this one.

A fairy tale dress for a princess, he had said. Your smile widens as you do one last twirl. You hear the handle of the fitting room rattle, and turn to tell the tailor you’re ready to change, then freeze when you see who’s standing in the doorway.

Sharp brown eyes look at you with such intensity that you blush. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

His mouth curves into a soft smile as he takes in the sight of you in your wedding dress. The owner of the bridal shop was quite a striking man, with his physique, styled blonde hair, and impressive height.

“I wasn’t aware that you visited brides during their fittings.” Your mouth had gone dry. He looked so immaculate in tailored pants and a waistcoat, shirt fitting beautifully to his broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing corded, well toned forearms.

He chuckles at your comment, then steps in, locking the door behind him. Your heart skips a beat and you almost miss his next words over the rush of blood in your ears.

“Never. But this dress…I have a special affinity for it.”

He stands right behind you, admiring you in the mirror. His eyes rove over the small details of the dress, the little plunge of the neckline, almost modest, between your breasts, the cups of the dress pushing them up flatteringly.

Nanami Kento was a heartthrob in this locality. Who wouldn’t notice the handsome bridal shop owner? Women were known to wander into the shop to catch a glimpse at him, pretending to be window shopping. Many a bride had blushed as he walked with them through the shop, pulling gowns and asking questions about their dress preferences, giggling as he politely asked to see their rings.

“Yes…I think this last fitting was much needed. Look at how flattering it looks on your body now.” His large hands softly rest on your waist as you feel rushes of heat run through you. You try your best to not look at the mirror, lest he see how flustered you were getting. His cologne was filling your senses, a deep musky scent that added a forbidden allure.

“I was right in thinking this lace would look flattering on you.” One of his hands moves towards your front, his long fingers gently tracing the line of fabric near your collarbone, sending skitters of electricity through you. Your heart thumps in your chest as you try to keep your composure.

“Ah…thank you.” You manage to say. “You do have a good eye for what looks best.” You can hear how your voice has taken on a breathy quality and try to focus. You had plans after this, meeting with your bridesmaids for dinner.

Nanami smiles at your praise, then says, so close to your ear, “Why aren’t you wearing any jewelry today? Apart from your ring I mean.”

His breath makes you tingle with need, making you tongue tied, words stumbling over each other. “I-ah-ahem. Should I be wearing…jewelry?”

“You should. Most brides wear a necklace after a fitting to make sure it doesn’t clash with the neckline.” His fingers creep up from your collarbone to the hollow at the base of your throat and your breath catches.

“And earrings,” he adds, his other hand abandoning your waist to gently massage your bare earlobe. You feel uncomfortable heat starting to gather between your thighs and resist the urge to lean back against his muscular frame. Your eyes close as he continues to fondle the soft piece of flesh then almost jump out of your skin as his hot breath tickles your other ear.

“Earrings help you figure out if you've chosen the right veil or not.” His lips were practically touching the shell and a strangled gasp leaves your lips.

“You really are the ideal representation of a blushing bride,” Nanami murmurs softly. His hands start to play with your hair, and you swallow, trying to gather the vestiges of your rapidly fading sensibility.

“Have you decided if you’re wearing your hair up or down?” His fingers swirl the locks of hair flowing down your shoulders, making a loose bun with them at the nape of your neck. It takes you a moment to process his question, the movements of fingers feeling deliciously seductive.

“Up.” You didn’t trust yourself to say another word.

He nods, leaning forward to look over your shoulder into the mirror. “I think that’s a good choice. Plays well with your features.” His fingers skim over your cheek which looked positively rosy now.

“Were you done with your fitting?”

You give yourself a little shake mentally. “Yes.” You wished he would stop stroking you so tenderly. You were starting to have thoughts quite opposite to the image of a demure bride.

“I actually need to call back the tailor to help me with this-”

“No need.” He cuts you off smoothly, leaving no room for objection. “I assume she’s busy. And it’s a small task. I can help you.”

With patience, Nanami starts undoing the small pearl buttons. You stand, embarrassment rising, but unable to resist. He was so charming, eyes focused on his task, while you stole glances at him in the mirror, the sharp, chiseled features of his face, the lovely hue of brown his eyes were. You shiver as air hits your bare skin, his fingers going lower and lower, finally reaching the last few buttons near your waist. He spreads apart the fabric, hands caressing your back. His eyes meet yours in the mirror.

“Look at me,” he whispers, waiting until your eyes met his before sliding the dress off your shoulders, carefully holding the skirt to avoid wrinkling it, revealing the adorable pink lace bra you had worn in hopes of surprising your fiance later. He grips the bodice carefully and moves away from you.

“Step out.” Nanami’s voice isn’t demanding; it was a request. Feeling like your legs had turned to jello, you lift one leg, then the other, stepping out of the dress before he grabs a hanger to put it away. You can feel your sex throb from need and squeeze your legs together, acutely aware that the matching pink panties must have a stain now from your dripping core.

Once he’s secured the dress, his attention falls back to you. His eyes stop at your thighs. “No garter to go with the dress?”

You glance up at him shyly. “Are garters part of the dress fitting?”

“They should be,” he murmurs before closing the gap between you, his lips covering yours. The tension that had been building inside you snaps and you respond hungrily, body pressing unashamedly against his, feeling the hard muscles under his clothes.

“You do look good in pink,” he says in a husky voice as you both break apart, only for him to start placing wet kisses on your neck, his hands expertly snapping open the catch of your bra with the same ease as he did with the buttons on your wedding dress. His large hands cup your breasts, massaging them, before his thumbs rest on the centers of your hardened nipples, moving them in circles, the friction making you feel weak at the knees. Your mouth finds his again, tongues brushing against each other, his fingers softly tweaking and pulling the hardened peaks. Your moans are muffled, lost in the greed of his kiss.

He pulls back before guiding you over to the chair that sits in the corner of the fitting room, helping you comfortably straddle him, softly suckling on one of your nipples while his hands roam down your back, squeezing your waist, holding you tight as you whimper and moan. His hands eventually slide down to your ass, gripping the fat covetously, before slipping below the scanty lace that covered your pussy.

“Why do brides always abstain from sex a few weeks before the wedding?” Nanami muses as he presses dexterous fingers between your wet folds, making you gasp.

“I-it’s not-” You choke out, unable to form coherent words.

“Look at this.” There’s a raspy quality to Nanami’s voice as he pulls out his fingers for your inspection, covered with your arousal. “Hardly did anything and you’re already making a mess. Honestly, why do you brides do this to yourselves?”

He licks his fingers clean before gripping you under your thighs, momentarily lifting you up, before standing and seating you on the chair instead. Your legs spread apart wantonly, thoughts of decency thrown out the window. Nanami hooks his index around the fabric covering your crotch, pulling it to the side, spreading apart your glistening labia with his other hand. The tangy scent of need hits his nose and he licks a line up from your entrance to your clit, before laying his tongue over the swollen bud, licking sensually.

You’re trying your best to muffle your noises and failing spectacularly, moans getting louder and needier as he tenderly alternates between sucking and licking your clit, the variations driving out all reasoning, leaving only primal thoughts in your head. Unashamedly, you grind against his mouth, desperate for a release. You sob with delight as he inserts a finger, followed by a second, stretching you out, making you feel deliciously full. You had been abstaining and didn’t realize how much you had missed it. His fingers curl up into that small patch inside you, matching his movements to the pace of his tongue on your clit. Your hands move involuntarily, pulling at his hair, back arching against the chair as he pushes you over the edge.

A loud, lewd sound leaves your lips as the orgasm takes over, feeling your pussy spasm pleasurably, clit pulsating, wave after wave racking your system. He doesn’t spare a second, quickly unzipping his trousers and adjusting you before slipping his cock into your wetness.

You were unprepared for the sudden intrusion, making you gasp in shock as you adjust to his thickness, pussy still fluttering from your climax. Your legs wrap around his waist as he moves closer, almost folding you in half and he starts to thrust into you.

“Fuck…so tight…looks like abstinence…made your pussy forget…how to take cock…” he says between breaths, his movements so sinfully slow, ensuring you feel every inch of him, taking note of every small spasm your body makes around him.

You whine at his slow thrusts, needing more. “Kento…”

“Did you need something my dear?” You want to shake him for his ability to sound so polite, like you were having tea together instead of him being buried in your cunt.

“I need more…please…” You can’t keep the urgency out of your voice. His eyes darken at your request.

“Desperate to cum on my cock are you?” he teases, pulling back until he’s almost about to pull out the tip before slamming back into you, making you moan noisily. His hips snap into you, placing his fingers into your mouth, the unspoken command clear in his eyes; wet them.

You suck his fingers, moistening them with your saliva before he removes them, using the lubrication to rub circles onto your clit. The sensation combined with the force of him fucking into you makes your eyes roll back into your head. You were so close, and judging by his grunts and movements getting sloppier, so was he.

“Such a sweet bride…you’ll be an even sweeter mother someday…” He pants as he maintains a rhythm, close to his own climax. You feel the familiar feeling of heat and tension building in your belly, coiling like a spring waiting to be set free. Soon enough, a second climax rips through you, stealing the breath from your lungs, your mouth open in a silent scream as it grips you. With a grunt, Nanami’s hips snap forward aggressively and you feel his cock spasm, little twitches inside your pussy as he empties himself into you.

Sated, both of you pant, trying to catch your breath. He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a small pack of tissues, using one to clean up and catch his cum as he slips out of you. He gently runs another one down your slit, cleaning you up as best as he can.

“Not just good for an emotional bride,” he jokes as he wads up the used tissues.

Your muscles ache in protest as he lowers your legs to the floor. He smiles at your state, exhausted, fucked out in the sweetest way possible. Nanami fusses with your hair, trying to bring it back to a state of decency before handing you your bra.

“You’d better hurry up and get dressed. Dinner with the bridesmaids at 7, yeah?”

OUTSIDE THE FITTING ROOM:

The tailor who had been assisting you was relatively new and she was now waiting in the back break room along with the elderly woman who had greeted you earlier. She clicks her tongue impatiently.

“I saw Mr. Nanami go into the fitting room she was in…should I be concerned?” she asks the older woman.

The wizened lady giggles at her. The tailor frowns. “What? Am I missing something?”

“That’s his fiancee that came in for a fitting. I say let’s give them a few more minutes. I’m sure he’s already helped her put away the gown.” She laughs heartily at the dumbstruck look on the tailor’s face.

“Wha-but-” the tailor splutters. “Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride in the wedding dress before the wedding?”

“Considering he’s the one that designed it, I think an exception can be made. Now hush and get back out front. There’s other customers that need attending to.”

wedding themed divider by: @/ fairytopea Image 1Image 2Image 3

Support banner by @/cafe kitsune

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cr-komi · 4 months

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"All's Fair in Love and War"

Summary: You harbored a deep hatred for Jeon Jungkook, your new roommate at Skyline View Apartments. Despite his outward kindness, the constant noise of his nightly activities with different partners fueled your resentment. Envious and frustrated, you couldn't help but wonder if he truly made those women feel as good as they sounded.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 6,061

Warnings: Swearing, angst, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people), multiple orgasms

Authors Note: This is not proofread. I hope you all enjoy this story, it was fun to write but this is also my first time writing something like this so please be kind!

You hated Jeon Jungkook with every bone in your body.

When given this information, one might ask why you despise a man who has been nothing but nice to you since you became his new roommate at the newly built, Skyline View Apartments, although those who wondered about your dislike for him never had to hear him fucking the daylights of a new girl every single night.

You resented Jeon Jungkook so deeply that it had become an obsession. Day in and day out, the melodic moans and rhythmic thumping from his bedroom invaded your peace, a constant reminder of his promiscuity and your own solitude. Each passionate encounter was like a dagger piercing through the thin walls, leaving you seething with envy and frustration.

I mean, honestly, could he really make all those women feel that good?

---

The apartment was a patchwork of sunlight and shadows, dust motes dancing like tiny fairies in the afternoon glow streaming through the half-closed blinds. You sat on the edge of the secondhand couch that had seen better days, fidgeting with your phone as you checked the time once more.

"Any minute now," You whispered to yourself, the words lost in the quiet expanse of the room.

Your gaze flitted over the ad you'd posted online – 'Roommate Wanted: must be clean, quiet, and okay with late-night baking sessions.' The rent, unyielding in its monthly appearance, had become a specter haunting your bank account. Sharing your space wasn't ideal, but neither was the idea of moving back home to two unsupportive, narcissistic parents.

A knock at the door jolted you from your thoughts. You took a deep breath, smoothing down your shirt as if the gesture could iron out your nerves.

You opened the door to reveal a young man with a bright smile and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"Jungkook?" You asked tentatively.

"That's me, you must be Y/N," he replied, his voice carrying the warmth of a summer breeze. "I hope I'm not too early or anything."

"Right on time, actually." You stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. "Welcome to what might be your new home, I guess."

"Thank you," Jungkook said, stepping past the threshold. He surveyed the room with an appreciative nod. "You've got a great place here. The ad didn't do it justice."

"Photography isn't really my strong suit," You admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle.

Jungkook set his duffel down, careful not to disturb the arrangement of magazines on the coffee table. "I'm pretty easy-going. As long as I have somewhere to sleep and cook some simple meals, I'm set."

"Ah, you cook?" You perked up, interest piqued. "That's definitely a point in your favor."

"Nothing too fancy," Jungkook confessed, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "But I can manage well enough not to starve."

You laughed, the sound more relaxed than you felt. "I tend to bake when I'm stressed. So, between your cooking and my baking, we might not be the healthiest household."

"Sounds perfect to me," Jungkook grinned.

"Listen," you started, suddenly serious, "I really need someone to split the rent with. And you seem nice enough. But are you sure you're okay with the rules? My work schedule is kind of erratic, and I need quiet to focus when I'm at home."

"Totally understand," Jungkook assured you.

"I keep odd hours myself sometimes. For the record, I'm clean and respectful of shared spaces. I would want the same if the roles were reversed."

"Guess it's settled then." You extended her hand, feeling the strange mix of relief and trepidation churn within you. "You're welcome to be my roommate, as long as you want to."

"Well I wouldn't be here if I wasn't interested, now, would I?" Jungkook replied, his handshake firm and reassuring.

You nodded, laughing quietly, "I guess you're right. Let me show you around."

---

As the days turned into weeks, your initial reservations about Jeon Jungkook began to dissipate. Contrary to the image you had built up in your mind, he turned out to be an ideal roommate. He was considerate, always cleaning up after himself, and never complained about your late-night baking sessions that sometimes left the kitchen a mess. He was quiet and respectful of your space.

You found yourself growing closer to him, drawn in by his infectious laughter and the genuine interest he showed in your life. It was as if a friendship had blossomed from the ashes of animosity. You began sharing meals together, chatting about everything from work to your dreams for the future. For the first time in a long while, you didn't feel alone.

That is, until about two weeks ago when Jungkook started banging every girl that he found within a 5 mile radius.

---

The clock struck midnight, and you lay in your bed, the moonlight casting ghostly shadows across your room.

You had been trying to fall asleep for the past hour, but the hope of rest was dashed each time a new wave of noise crashed through the walls from Jungkook’s side of the apartment.

"Ugh, not again..." you muttered under your breath, pulling the pillow over your ears as if it could shield you from the cacophony next door.

A rhythmic thumping against the shared wall set a maddening tempo, accompanied by the high-pitched squeal of bedsprings in protest.

You could hear Jungkook's voice, a melodic baritone, now moaning without any hint of restraint or concern for his roommate.

"Seriously, does he have to be so loud?" You grumbled, annoyance simmering as you kicked off your tangled sheets.

It wasn't just the volume; it was the frequency. This had become an all too familiar soundtrack to your nights, and with every encounter audible through the paper-thin walls, your patience wore thinner.

"God, do they ever get tired?" The thought came unbidden, as you sat up, clenching your fists in frustration.

You paced back and forth, considering banging on the wall or maybe even screaming into your pillow. Each stifled cry and laugh from the other side felt like an invasion of your already cramped personal space.

"Okay, think... headphones. Where are my headphones?" You whispered to yourself, fumbling through your nightstand drawer in desperation.

Stressed and sleep deprived, you froze with a sudden realization: your headphones were in Jungkook's room.

You mentally cursed yourself for leaving them there, how could you be so damn forgetful?

"Are you fucking serious?" You groaned, mentally debating on whether you should interrupt Jungkook's late-night escapade or not.

"Tomorrow," you vowed silently, "I'm buying earplugs. Or soundproofing. Or moving to the moon."

As the seconds dragged on, punctuated by the occasional 'Yes!' and 'Right there!' from next door, your initial irritation gave way to a begrudging resignation. You knew this wouldn't be the last night spent battling for sleep against the symphony of Jungkook's indiscretions.

"It's now or never, Y/N. Just get it over with."

Summoning a newfound resolve, you rose from your bed and marched determinedly towards Jungkook's room. The hallway was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a cracked doorway that spilled out a warm, amber glow.

With every step, your anger fueling your actions, you were prepared to confront him about the disruption he was causing.

Clenching your fists tightly, you hesitated for a brief moment before knocking forcefully on his door.

The sounds from within abruptly ceased, replaced by an eerie silence that seemed to stretch on forever. Your heart raced in anticipation as you waited for a response. After what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open slowly, revealing a disheveled Jungkook standing on the other side, bare chested with a sheet hanging loosely around his waist. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you, clearly caught off guard.

As you stood at the threshold of his room, you were met with clothes strewn across the floor. The air was heavy with the scent of passion, mixing with a tinge of regret that hung in the air like an unanswered question.

"What the hell do you want, Y/N? Can't you see I'm busy?"

He gestured with his hand towards the inner parts of his room revealing a girl who seemed to be about your age, wide eyed and clearly uncomfortable with the situation that was playing out before her.

Your anger flared, the frustration of sleepless nights fueling your words. "I want some peace and quiet, Jungkook! This is not the first time this has happened, and I'm tired of being subjected to your...activities." You couldn't help but glare at the girl, her presence only amplifying your annoyance. "And who is she? Another one of your conquests?"

Jungkook's expression hardened, a mixture of annoyance and frustration crossing his features,"Y/N, you shouldn't come barging in like this! The stuff that I do in my time is none of your fucking business. And besides, we were just catching up."

"Catching up?" Your voice dripped with sarcasm. "Is that what you call it? Because I've heard more than enough catching up these past few weeks."

The girl let out a whimper, her eyes wide with fear, as if she was suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation.

Jungkook sighed, running a hand through his hair. Turning to the girl tangled in the covers he stared with apologetic eyes, "Look maybe you should just leave for now. We can finish what we started another time, yeah?"

The girl nodded, hastily gathering her clothes and making a beeline for the door, completely avoiding your gaze.

With a scoff, you turned your attention back to Jungkook, taking in his frustrated expression, "There, are you happy now? She's gone."

Jungkook's eyes narrowed as he took a step closer, his voice low and controlled. "You know, Y/N, you don't have to be so judgmental. Just because my lifestyle doesn't align with yours doesn't give you the right to invade my privacy and shame me for it."

Your anger flared even hotter at his words. "Invade your privacy? You've been invading mine, night after night! This is my home too, Jungkook. I deserve some peace and quiet."

He scoffed, crossing his arms defiantly. "And what about the peace and quiet I deserve? What if I told you that you're not the easiest person to live with either?"

The words stung, but you refused to back down. "I'm not the easiest person to live with!? That's bullshit! This is my apartment, or did you forget?"

He shook his head, frustrated by your accusations. "You act as if this place belongs only to you. Don't forget, Y/N, we agreed to this living arrangement equally. I have just as much right to live here as you do."

You threw your hands in the air, frustration finally starting to boil over, "Of course you fucking do! I don't care whether you have sex or not, or with who for that matter! I just wish you could be a little quieter. Is that too much to ask for?"

Jungkook laughed harshly, "If you don't care who I fuck or when I do it, then why are you standing outside my door right now, getting mad at me for that exact reason?"

If murder wasn't illegal, you would strangle Jeon Jungkook with your bare hands right fucking now, no regrets.

But instead of giving in to the violent urge that bubbled within you, you took a step back, trying to regain your composure. It was clear that this argument was going nowhere, and you knew that escalating the situation further would only make matters worse.

"I came here to address the noise issue, Jungkook," you said through gritted teeth, your voice strained with frustration. "I've been struggling to sleep because of the constant disruptions, and I wanted to talk it out like adults. But clearly, that's not possible."

Jungkook scoffed, "Are you saying I'm not mature enough to handle this situation?"

Oh fuck, someone should restrain you before things get violent.

"What?? When did I say th--" You paused for a moment, thinking before allowing a sly smile to spread across your features, "Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying."

Jungkook's eyebrows shot up in disbelief, his eyes narrowing in anger. "You think you're so high and mighty, don't you? Always acting like you're better than everyone else," he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

You smirked, the tension between the two of you crackling in the air. "Well, at least I have some self-control. Unlike you, who can't seem to keep it in your pants long enough for me to get a good night's sleep."

His face flushed red, a mixture of embarrassment and rage contorting his features. "You don't know anything about me."

"Oh please," you scoffed. "Enlighten me then, Jeon Jungkook. I'd love to hear your story that justifies keeping the whole apartment complex awake every damn night."

Jungkook's jaw clenched, and you could see the anger flickering in his gaze. But instead of retaliating with harsh words or escalating the tension further, he surprised you by exhaling slowly, seemingly calming himself down before suddenly leaning in close enough that you could feel his warm breath fanning across your face.

"Are you sure you're angry because it's too loud for you to sleep?" He whispered, a devilish smirk etched into his features, "are you sure it's not just because you're jealous?"

"Jealous?" You sputtered, taken aback by his change in demeanor, "of what? Of the fact that you're fucking every girl and their mother?"

Jungkook nodded slowly, "Do you want some of the action, Y/N? Do you want me to fuck you so good you see stars?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at Jungkook, his words hanging in the air between you, the tension between the two of you reaching its peak. A part of you was shocked, but another part was aroused by his audacity.

"What the hell are you suggesting?" You hissed, your voice barely above a whisper. "You really think I'd let you do that to me?"

Jungkook smirked, a predatory gleam flaring up in his eyes. "Don't tell me you're not curious. You've seen me with other girls, you've heard the noises... do you ever wonder what it's like for them? To be in my arms, to be with me?"

Your breath hitched as you processed his words. Was this really happening? Was he really saying these things to you?

"You know, Y/N, you keep complaining about all the girls I've brought home these past few weeks, but you've never once stopped to ask me why."

"Because you have the same sex drive as a horny teenager?" You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

He took a step closer, his body language commanding your attention, "I was home that night." He whispered, eyes sparkling at your retort, a twinkle of mischief in his gaze.

"W-what do you mean? Which night?"

Jungkook's voice lowered, dangerous and seductive, "The night you came home with Taehyung."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," You stammered, feeling your body heat up as his gaze lingered on you.

Jungkook's smirk widened, "Oh, I think you do, Y/N. You came home that night, tipsy and flushed, your hair still wet from the rain that had been pounding on the windows."

You laughed nervously, trying to act innocent despite the fact that you knew exactly what he was talking about, "What...what do you mean?"

"I heard every noise you made that night, Y/N. Every cry, every scream, every moan, every whimper."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low growl, "And I watched you. I watched you give yourself to that boy, your eyes closed tight, your body arching back and forth in rhythmic motions. I saw every flush of color, every quiver of your lips, your nails digging into his back as you came undone."

You froze. If you had known Jungkook was home that day, there was no way in hell you would have left the door open as Taehyung fucked you into oblivion. At least...that's what you want Jungkook to think.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. You wanted to deny it, to push him away, but at the same time, a part of you was yearning for more.

"Jungkook what are you--"

You couldn't finish your sentence before he was upon you, his mouth devouring yours in a passionate kiss that left you breathless.

You knew you should stop him, that you should push him away, but the arousal that Jungkook had stirred within you overcame any rational thought. You moaned into his mouth, your body arching into his, desire and want consuming your whole being.

He gently pushed you against the wall, his body caging yours in. Your lips met in a passionate collision that sent sparks flying between the two of you. Jungkook's tongue darted out to taste you, delving deep into your mouth with a groan. You welcomed him eagerly, your hands running through his messy hair before moving to his back, nails scratching lightly against his skin, leaving trails of desire.

He pulled away for a moment to run his nose along your jaw, inhaling deeply. To him, you tasted like cherry lip-gloss and wine, and Jungkook loved it. He captured your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking on it softly before whispering hoarsely against it, "You have no fucking clue how long I've wanted this. How long I've wanted you."

His hands slid down your body, caressing your curves, making their way to your hips.

He lifted you up just enough that you wrapped your legs around his waist, arching into him.

Jungkook's free hand found its way under your shirt, tracing circles on your stomach before working its way up to cup your breast.

You moaned into the kiss, your head spinning from the mix of emotions coursing through your body. You've never been this intoxicated by someone before.

The scent of his cologne filled your senses, making you dizzy with want and need. You pressed your body against his hard length, feeling him stir against you. Your heart skipped a beat at his arousal, and in that moment you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside of you.

You pulled away from the kiss, gasping for air as you looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Take me to your room." Your voice came out husky, a mere whisper.

Jungkook didn't need to be asked twice, pulling you closer towards his room. As the two of you moved, he nipped at your neck, causing you to gasp and squirm in his arms.

The sound of his footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, the sound of your passionate breathing filling the air. His room is only a few steps away, and he stumbled through the door, out of breath.

The two of you tumbled onto the bed together, your bodies entwined in a sea of need.

"You're everything I've ever wanted," he murmured against your skin before kissing his way down your neck towards your clothed breasts. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of your softness as his mouth traced a trail of fire across your collarbone. Your bodies moved together sensuously, practically in unison.

You paused for a moment, looking down at the obvious erection he was sporting beneath the sheet that was somehow still wrapped around his waist.

You could feel the warmth of Jungkook's body as you sat next to him, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with his breaths.

You couldn't resist the temptation any longer; You reached your hand out to touch the bulge in the sheet that covered his waist. Boldly, You slid your fingers over the fabric, teasing him as you dragged the seets downwards to reveal a hard, hot shaft.

Jungkook groaned softly, his eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your hand around it, encasing it within your warm, soft palm. It twitched in response, pulsing slightly under your touch.

Jungkook moaned softly, his lips parting as he watched your every move, hunger burning in his eyes. You had never felt so powerful before, so in control.

"You're going to drive me crazy, Y/N." Jungkook whispered, a hint of warning in his voice.

You grinned, happy to have succeeded in your goal, "But you know I love pushing buttons." you replied, voice thick with desire.

"Keep going." His voice was ragged, broken. He grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together, guiding your hand up and down his length. The fabric of the sheet brushed against your knuckles as it lay draped against his thighs.

You began to stroke him in sync with his movements, your breath hitching slightly at the feel of him. You took in the scent of his skin, warm and slightly salty with arousal, and the sound of your entwined fingers rubbing against the sheet, rustling softly.

You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his neck as you continued to stroke him. His skin was warm against your mouth, and you savored the taste of his sweat.

You nipped at his earlobe, delighting in the way he shivered beneath your touch. "Jungkook, can I suck your dick? Please?" You asked, your tongue dancing along his jawline.

He nodded against your lips, his hips bucking slightly, seeking more contact. You slid your other hand down to caress his balls, gently cupping them in your palm. They were heavy and full, and you couldn't help but wonder what they'd feel like in your hand when they were covered in your juices. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through your core, and you found yourself growing wetter and wetter by the minute.

"Y/N..." he moaned, his voice hoarse. "Please..."

You slipped the sheet away from him to allow yourself better access, quickly falling to your knees in front of him, and boy, did Jungkook love the sight.

You marvelled at the size of his cock, large and thick, glistening with pre-cum. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you wrapped your lips around the head, feeling his warm skin against your tongue.

Jungkook moaned deeply at the sensation, his fingers tangling in your hair as he felt the hot wetness envelop him. You licked and nuzzled the underside of his shaft with your tongue, teasing the sensitive skin with each flick before taking more of him in your mouth. You pulled back slowly, the head of Jungkook's cock slipping from your lips with an audible sucking sound, and then slid back down, taking him to the root with a loud gulp. Jungkook's hips bucked up off the mattress involuntarily, craving more.

You hummed in approval, cheeks hollowing as you bobbed your head up and down, creating a rhythm that sent shivers down Jungkook's spine. You cupped one of Jungkook's balls in your hand, massaging gently as you continued to deep throat him. Jungkook's taste exploded on your tongue, filling the room with a musky scent that made the both of you shudder. Each time you withdrew, you flicked the sensitive tip with his tongue, driving Jungkook insane with lust.

"Fuck baby...just like that." He moaned, threading his fingers through your hair, pulling you closer to him.

Jungkook's muscles tensed under your touch, his thighs trembling with the effort to hold still. He felt himself growing closer to his peak, his cock throbbing in your mouth. The sounds of your breathing grew louder, faster, and the room was filled with wet, slurping noises as you sucked harder. His eyes fluttered open when he felt your teeth graze against the sensitive skin at the base of his cock, and he cried out, arching into the touch.

"Ahh, shit, that mouth feels so good.”

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, a smirk gracing your lips. "Like that?" You asked, voice rough with desire.

Jungkook nodded, unable to form words as his body was consumed by pleasure. He reached down to stroke your hair, feeling the silky strands between his fingers as you moved faster, taking more of him into your mouth. Jungkook's hips bucked wildly now, meeting the rhythm of your bobbing head. He could feel the familiar tingle spreading through his body, his heart pounding in his ears.

"Fuck, I'm gonna-- shit, I'm close."

With one final thrust forward, Jungkook came, his release hot and thick in your mouth. He groaned loudly, almost giving out as he lost control.

You welcomed every drop, swallowing greedily as you continued to stroke Jungkook's length.

The room fell into silence, the only sound being their ragged breathing. Eventually, you pulled away, a satisfied smile on you face.

"That was amazing," Jungkook whispered, his cheeks flushed with arousal.

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His hands cupped the back of your head, holding you close as you tasted your own handiwork. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you whispered, your voice still thick with desire.

Jungkook nodded before fiddling with the hem of your shorts, "Let me make you feel good too, Y/N. I wanna taste you."

You felt a shiver of anticipation run down your spine as he began to run his fingers up and down your thighs, his touch sending shivers coursing through your body.

"Jungkook, I'm all yours," you whispered, your eyes never leaving his as he continued to explore your body.

He smiled softly before slowly kissing his way up your inner thigh, his tongue tracing a path that sent a rush of excitement coursing through your body. He paused for a moment, his knees brushing against your legs as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire.

"Just tell me what you want, babe," he rasped, his voice low and full of lust.

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. You had never felt this exposed before, never this vulnerable. But you knew that this was what you wanted, this connection with him, and you trusted him implicitly.

"I-I want you, Jungkook. Please, just touch me."

Jungkook nodded moving himself slightly have have better access to your dripping pussy.

Smiling, he slowly pulled your shorts down your legs, revealing your most intimate parts to him.

You part your legs slightly, inviting him in as he pressed his lips to you slit, exploring with soft little licks and kisses. His warm breath bathed you sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Oh fuck..." You let out, arching your back slightly into his touch.

His tongue dove in, tracing your folds and flicking against your clit, lapping at your juices like a hungry animal. Your hips jerked forward involuntarily as he began to suck on your sensitive bud, drawing out a moan from the depths of your throat. "Jungkook..." you panted, gripping onto his hair tightly. He sucked harder, pulling on your clit between his teeth, and you gasped, feeling your whole body tense up.

"You taste so good," he mumbled against your entrance, tongue darting around inside of you.

To him, you tasted both sweet and salty, driving him wild.

Your breath hitched as he started thrusting his tongue in and out, in sync with his fingers that are now rubbing your entrance. His other hand squeezed your ass cheek, pulling you closer, and you whimpered, unable to focus on anything but the sensations coursing through you. Each thrust of his tongue hit your G-spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core.

"Fuck, Jungkook," you cried out, throwing your head back, hair falling in front of your face as you lost control.

You tried to push him away, needing a moment to catch your breath, but he didn't budge. His tongue pushed deeper, exploring every inch of you, and you can't help but whimper

"I'm so close!" You warned, voice thin and breaking.

Jungkook smirked, feeling a sense of power in being able to bring you this close so quickly. He quickened his pace, his tongue flicking and thrusting inside of you, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your hips bucked wildly, your back arched, and you cried out, your whole body trembling with pleasure.

When you could finally take no more, you cried out his name, your body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, your orgasm gripping his tongue and clenching around him. Jungkook continued to lick and suckle at your sensitive folds, drawing out every last drop of pleasure that he could, until you finally collapsed back down onto the bed, spent and breathless.

He gently pulled away, giving you space to recover, his own breath coming out ragged as he stared down at you, awe written across his face.

"Y/N. That was incredible. You're incredible." He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his hand reaching up to stroke your hair.

You leaned back slightly to meet his eyes, "I want you inside of me, Jungkook. Please."

"But...don't you want to take a break?" He asked, concern clear in his voice as he looked into your eyes. You smiled softly, understanding the concern behind his words.

"No. Please, Jungkook, I need you."

"Fuck..." He lowered his head and you found his dick, hard again after eating you out.

You gave him a few swift strokes, eliciting a moan followed by a string of curses.

You guided him towards your entrance, slowly opening your legs to expose yourself to him. You wanted him, needed him, and began taking him in slowly, inch by inch.

A low growl escaped his throat as you enveloped him fully, the two of you moving in perfect sync. His hands gripped your waist tightly, pulling you closer, deeper.

"Fuck, Y/N. You feel so good," he groaned, chest heaving.

Jungkook thrust into you with a steady rhythm. His hips slapping against your ass as the two of you moaned in unison. The bed creaked with your movements, filling the air with an erotic melody. Your nails dug into Jungkook's back, leaving red marks visible against his perfect skin. He growled, biting down on your neck as he lifted you up and slammed you down onto him with more force. Your breasts swayed with each movement of his hips, nipples hardening against his chest.

"You feel so damn good," he growled, his hips bucking faster with each thrust, his eyes never leaving yours.

You moaned softly, meeting his thrusts with fervor. His breaths came out ragged, panting as he continued to move inside of you.

Your bodies moved together in perfect sync as he pinned you down, not wanting to lose the feeling of being this close to you. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that left you gasping for air.

To him, you tasted of both of your combined sweat and his essence as he nipped at your bottom lip before devouring it once more.

Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, urging him to go deeper. He groaned into the kiss and complied, slamming into you harder as he felt your inner walls clench around him.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips, the word lingering there as you both pulled apart to gasp for air. "You're so fucking perfect, Y/N." He slammed into you again, his pace quickening as he lost control. His fingers dug into your hips, marking your flesh with his nails.

The sound of skin hitting skin filled the room, echoing in the silence. Your head hit the headboard with every powerful thrust, eyes rolled back in ecstasy. You whimpered Jungkook's name, voice hoarse from the pleasure coursing through your veins.

You felt everything, each inch of him inside of you, and every touch that sent shivers down your spine.

You gripped onto his hair, pulling him closer for another deep kiss. Your tongues tangled together, hearts racing as the both of you lost yourselves in this moment. With every stroke of his hips, you felt the burning sensation between your legs intensify.

It was as if he was setting you on fire, and you couldn't get enough of it. His cock hit your G-spot over and over again, driving you wild with desire.

"Fuck, Jungkook!" You screamed, "I'm close!"

Your nails dug deeper into his skin, Jungkook hissed but didn't pull away, instead, he growled low in his throat and took your lip between his teeth, marking you.

You responded by biting his neck, hard enough to leave a mark of your own.

"Ah, Jungkook!" As Jungkook slammed into you harder and harder, a familiar coil began to build inside of you, bubbling up until finally waves of pleasure crashed over you, one after the other as you found your release.

Your moans and gasps filled the room, drowning out everything else, and Jungkook followed suit, his orgasm overtaking him not long after yours.

"Holy shit, Y/N, I'm gonna-- fuck!"

With one final thrust, Jungkook groaned and his hips stuttered, his warmth filling you up completely.

Your tongues tangled as the two of you kissed, your hearts beating together.

As you caught your breath and lay there together, your bodies still intertwined, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of completion. The air was thick with the mingled scents of sex and sweat, and your skin was slick with a sheen of perspiration.

Jungkook stroked your hair softly, his fingers gentle against your skin, and you could hear the ragged rhythm of his breathing. Your gaze met his, his eyes filled with vulnerability.

You leaned forward, lips brushing against his cheek, and whispered, "So, was all of that earlier...just to make me jealous? So I would give in and take the initiative?"

Jungkook's cheeks tinged a shade of pink, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, "You have no idea how long I've been into you. When I saw you with Taehyung, I just...I don't know. I saw the way you were with him, and I realized that I wanted to be the only one to make you scream like that."

Woah, that was some confession.

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of surprise, joy, and confusion wash over you. "What do you mean, you've been into me for a long time? For how long?"

Jungkook took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a blend of fear and love. "Since the first time I saw you. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I just couldn't resist you. You're everything I've ever wanted, and I knew I had to have you, Y/N."

You felt your heart flutter at his words, and you gently caressed his cheek. "I...I've had feelings for you too, Jungkook."

"Although this absolutely fucking pains me to admit, I knew you were home that day. You know, the day with uh, Taehyung. I did that on purpose. I was...I was t-trying to make you jealous."

Jungkook laughed, continuing to stroke your hair, "Well it fucking worked."

You chuckled softly at his admission, your heart swelling with affection as you traced his jawline with your fingers.

"As long as we're honest with each other, it's all good. And honestly, I don't think I would have been able to resist you either," you admitted, a shy smile playing on your lips.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your forehead. "I want to make sure we get this right, Y/N. I don't want to rush into anything, and I want to make sure we're both happy."

You nodded, understanding the importance of taking things slow. "I agree, Jungkook. We can take our time, and we'll figure this out together."

As you lay entwined, your sweaty bodies still glistening from your passionate encounter, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. This was just the beginning of your journey together and you knew that, as long as you had each other, you could face anything that came your way. The world had just opened up in the most unexpected way, and the two of you were ready to explore it together, side by side.

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abouttofillhisshoes · 5 days

Text

And how can I refuse? - M.H x Reader // blurb

A/N: am still not ready to let MPIND Matty go so have this xx

wc: 5k

content warnings: smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), marking, lipstick kink?, lingerie, begging, praise, teasing, general possessiveness, matty wears a skirt x

Most people live off of food, water, and oxygen. You know, the actual building blocks of life. When it came to Matty, it was all about your eyes, specifically, where they looked. It always had to be with him. Matty. Only him, no one else.

He might tease and poke fun, but it was his weakness. Seeing you reach for your camera even your most intimate moments made his insides twist up and his stomach flutter with butterflies. Posing and contorting to your will, he did his absolute best to look amazing for you, to look how you wanted him to look. He relished in the small gasps you’d let out when the picture developed, his skin glowing under the flash, a thin layer of sweat sticking to it.

Which is why, when you had left the house to go pick up something you’d left at Ross and Hann’s flat, he saw an opportunity. The door slammed shut with an echo through the foyer, signifying you had departed. This was one of the rare times you hadn’t taken your bag with you, leaving it hanging on a chair in the kitchen, completely out in the open.

Matty’s eyes flickered over to it from the sofa, waiting a few moments to see if you’d come back for it. The house stayed silent, the only sound coming from the sofa creaking as he got up, tentatively walking over into the kitchen. Your bag was already zipped open, the contents of it clearly visible. One specific item stood out to him, glimmering under the light. Your precious camera.

The purple plastic was smooth in his hands, his fingers gliding over the surface. Matty could feel his heart begin to race at the thought of what this very lense had seen. His bare skin, your hands on him, nails raking over his chest, leaving scratch marks in their wake. Memories flashed through his head as he mindlessly walked into your now shared bedroom.

The once warm white fairy lights had been swapped out for pink ones instead, a new addition to your shared space that you were yet to discover. Your bed was unmade, sheets scattering across the mattress in a messy fashion, everything covered in an obscene amount of pillows.

This had been on Matty’s mind quite a while now, though he never had the opportunity to act on it. That is, until now. It was perfect, with you gone out for god knows how long, he had the ideal set up for a bit of “mischief” as he himself put it.

He groans as the warmth of the bed enveloped him, welcoming him home. Pink light poured over the sheets, painting them in a warm hue. Perfect.

Mattys began setting up.

Femininity wasn’t unknown to him. He owned multiple skirts and dresses, makeup products, even hair pins and clips he’d managed to nick from you when you weren't looking. You knew about all of this, seeing him every day, it would be pretty hard to miss it. Though, there was one thing he hadn't told you about yet. His affinity for womens clothes wasn't just limited to the odd skirt or sheer top, but also included undergarments.

Neatly folded in a drawer underneath piles of socks and shirts, was a small collection of womens lingerie. Panties and garters in various colorways, ranging from cotton to silk or even the odd piece of lace. It wasn't like he’d been hiding it from you, you just never asked. Feeling slightly giddy, he grabbed a pair of black lace panties from the pile, slipping them on underneath his basic grey joggers. Showtime.

Matty had decided to forgo a shirt for this specific photoshoot, knowing you'd much prefer him without one. The camera was heavy in his hand, weighing it down slightly as he lifted it slightly above his line of sight. Offering a sly grin to the lense, he pressed down onto the shutter, the flash almost blinding him. The picture looked innocent enough, the only remotely suggestive thing was his lack of top.

Ruffling his hair with his fingers, he tugged down his joggers slightly, letting them hang low on his hips as he snapped the second picture, this time, from below. His hip tattoo was the most visible, standing out against his pale skin like a sore thumb. That still did nothing to distract from the obvious bit of lace peeking out from the band of his pants. The thought of you seeing him like this drove him insane, but he quickly regained his composure before getting in place for the third photo.

Matty had managed to pull off his pants with only one hand, the other inspecting the fresh polaroid that the camera had just spit out. Now completely naked, apart from a skimpy pair of panties, it was time to get a bit more creative.

Setting the camera on the desk adjacent to the bed, he set a timer. Hearing it tick down, Matty found a good position and stayed. Flash. The sudden light was something he could never get used to, his eyes always slightly scrunched up in the pictures.

The camera was placed further away, but not too far, capturing the entirety of Mattys body. He was perched on the bed, on his knees with his legs spread, chest pushed out dramatically.The underwear he had on was now fully visible, the thin material barely concealing anything. His hand covered his growing erection, the thought of your reaction to the pictures once he was done was enough to give him a semi. The flash didn't bother him too much, throwing his head back just in time for the shutter to go off.

Leaving the picture on the bed next to him to develop, he grabbed the camera off the desk, setting it aside. His hand trailed down his chest, ghosting over his nipple piercing. Giving it a tug, just as you would if you were here, he let out a wanton whimper, letting go. The other hand was already palming himself through his panties, getting him fully hard.

The sensation of the lace rubbing up against his cock was almost too much, precum oozing out of the tip, painting the front of the panties with a wet patch. Working himself up, his hand reached for the camera, turning it around to face the lense to himself. Forcing his eyes open, parting his lips, he groaned desperately, clicking the shutter as he did.

The picture didnt show anything below the top of his chest, but fuck, it didnt need to. The expression on his face was one of pure want, lust, desire. Taking deep breaths to pull himself together, Matty moved on to his fifth and final position.

On his stomach, he propped a pillow underneath his elbows, giving him something to lean on. His curls fell over his face messily, covering most of his left eye. Knowing you, you'd probably make some offhanded comment about how he looked “terribly emo” like that, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. That wasn't important right now.

Angling the camera just right, his finger came up to meet his lips, pushing through them and into his wet mouth. Sucking on them slightly, he lets them hang out lazily, coating his lips and chin in spit. The flash reflected brilliantly off of his fingers, making the whole picture appear even lewder than it already was.

Quite happy with his work, he sets all five polaroids onto the bed in front of him, admiring himself. Painfully hard underneath his panties, he knew you would be coming home soon, and quickly scrambled up to put on some clothes. Grinning as he walked over to the wardrobe, he knew exactly what he was going to wear for you.

—---------------------------------------------------------------

The sound of the keys hitting the counter echoes through the house. Eyes darting across the room, you see no sign of Matty anywhere. Brushing it off, you shrug your jacket onto the sofa, sitting down on top of it, hand itching for a cigarette. You look around for a stray pack Matty had left somewhere.

That's when you see it.

The posh glass table had almost hidden the items that were placed upon it. You immediately recognised them as what they were: Polaroids. Heart racing a thousand miles an hour, you pick up the first one.

It was of a shirtless Matty grinning up from below, and you feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach. Another picture, this time from below, also shirtless, with pants hung low on his waist. Your breath hitches at the sight of his underwear peeking out from the waistband, holding the polaroid to your face to get a closer look. Lace. You moan audibly at the sight, blushing slightly at your reaction.

Hands shaking from excitement, you take the third picture, and you swear, your heart stops. Matty looks like a work of art, legs spread onto your shared bed like a true pornstar, head thrown back in an attempt to show off his long, slender neck. The bulge in his panties was badly hidden by his hand, leaving barely anything to the imagination.

The fourth is your favorite, always partial to Matty’s beautiful face. His open mouth and hooded eyes made your head spin, feeling lightheaded at the sight. The thought of him like this underneath you made your thigh clench, soaking your underwear.

The final picture is probably the filthiest. Fingers in his mouth, spit covering most of the bottom part of his face. So distracted by it all, you almost manage to oversee the bright pink post-it note stuck to the center of the table.

“upstairs x” was scrawled onto the paper, Matty’s handwriting immediately recognisable. It hits you at once. Matty was upstairs, waiting for you. He was waiting for you and you knew he was ready. Scrambling to get up the stairs, you stub your toe against the bannister, cursing out loud.

Before you can open the door, you're greeted by another note. This time, there was heart scribbled onto a green post-it, messily encasing both of your initials. An arrow ran through it, and you got the message immediately.

The door seemed awfully heavy as you pushed against it, pink light flooding your senses. Matty.

Matty was laying on the bed, legs stretched out on top of unorganized pillows and sheets. A green skirt covered his lower body, the satin shimmering in the light, almost blinding. The mesh top he had paired with it showed his piercing perfectly, the sight going straight to your core.

Before you can react, or even properly take him in, a flash actually blinds you. Matty has your camera. You rub your eyes to get rid of the burning sensation, before turning your head back to meet his eyes. A grin makes its way onto his face, the purple object clutched in his hands as the polaroid comes off of the top. Waving it through the air as it develops, you give him a look, holding up the pictures he had left you.

“You like em?” he asks, eyes darting over your body. You knew you looked desperate, hands slightly shaking and pupils completely blown out in lust. Nodding your head, you take a step towards the foot of the bed just as he gets up. Patting the space next to him, he looks at you expectantly, setting the photo and camera aside.

Getting a closer look at him, you realize he’s wearing makeup. This isn't unusual for Matty, but what was unusual was the bright red shade of lipstick lining his mouth. The sight made you smile, seeing as the product had smudged ever so slightly down his face.

The moment you settle in next to him, he flings his body on top of yours, straddling your waist. No genre of porn could top the sight in front of you right now, not even close. His curls stuck to the top of his forehead, and you could see his raging hard on through the thin material of his skirt.

“Why don't you get this off for me, yeah?” you tug at the seam of it, and Matty nods frantically, pulling it up and over his head before discarding it in a random corner. If heaven was a place on earth, it would be right in this room, with Matty, half naked and hard.

As seen in the picture he had so kindly gifted you, the lace panties truly didn't do anything to conceal him. The mesh top (yours of course) ended right above his hip bone, showing the perfect amount of skin. His eyes looked dazed as he leaned down to kiss you, lips smashing against yours.

The kiss is slow at first, with Matty deepening it the moment you kiss him back. Tongue and teeth and spit and his soft moans as you licked into his mouth filled your senses, your mind thrown into a lustful haze, the only cure being Matty finally fucking doing something.

Your hands thread into his hair, tugging in that way you knew he liked as his lips trailed down your jaw and onto your neck, sucking deep purple hickeys into your skin. A rough hand pushes your shirt up over your head, meeting the same fate as his skirt, forgotten in a corner. You silently thanked god today was a no bra day as your nipples hardened against the cool air.

You feel his hips grind down onto your thigh, soft whimpers leaving his lips as he continues his assault on your neck and chest. Nibbling at your collarbones, you see him reach under the pillow for something.

Red flashes across your vision, before settling right in front of you. Lipstick. Uncapping the top, you watch as Matty refreshes his lips, dabbing the product on softly, just as you had shown him months before. His eyes never left yours, a certain air of cockiness surrounding him.

Before you could react, Matty’s hand pushes you further into the bed, your head sinking into the pillows. The lipstick is slightly warm against your chest, and your breath hitches as you realize what he's doing. Matty is writing on your body, and you know exactly what.

His name.

Ever the territorial type, he had a knack for carving his initials into things. Whether it be the chair in your old room he used to have monopoly over, or random benches he sat on often. Bus stops, furniture, even walls had either his first name or initials carved into it. You were no different.

The red of the lipstick is bright against your skin, and Matty knew it would stain, which was exactly why he chose it. Small gasps leave your mouth as he palms your tits, leaning back to admire his artwork.

Kisses litter your ribcage, and you feel him lick a hot stripe across your underboob. Never breaking eye contact, he tugs at the waistband of your jeans, silently asking permission.

“Yeah, go ahead baby.” you say, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He smiles back at you, moving further down your body. Tugging your pants off of you, he snaps the waistband of your panties against your skin, making you yelp in surprise. A light giggle escapes him as he rids you of your underwear, now face to face with your glistening core.

The room felt unnaturally hot, and with Matty looking up at you from between your legs with that look in his eye that screamed “I'm going to devour you”, it seemed like even the slightest touch could have you coming in seconds.

His hand reaches around your thighs, making you scoot up slightly before diving into your folds, lapping at your clit with dizzying accuracy. It was so much all at once after endless teasing, and you were unable to control any other bit of your body. His strong hands gripped your skin, digging into it with such force that the spot started to go numb.

Writhing underneath him, his tongue licks circles around your clit, up, down and side to side, never letting you get used to something for too long. One of his hands leaves your thigh, instead, joining alongside his mouth between them.

Matty had big hands, the type basketball players and athletes usually had. His finger pushing into you felt like two of yours, and you immediately clenched around him, borderline pornographic moans spilling from your lips. Pumping in and out of you, that paired with the stimulation of his tongue had your head spinning and the world around you blurring as he added another digit, curling both upwards.

“Good?” you could smack him right now.

Smirking as he hits your g-spot, you squirm under his touch, trying to warn him of your approaching orgasm.

“F-fuck Matty, so good, you’re so good- Ohh god fuck.” your eyes screw shut, and you can feel the elastic in your core tightening as he speeds up, thrusting his fingers in and out of you at an animalistic pace.

He sucks your clit between his lips, and that's what throws you over the edge. You come, hard, probably harder than you have in your entire life, shaking and twitching as he tries to prolong your orgasm up until you start to move away from him.

His hand finds your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingertips as your eyes shut, basking in the afterglow of a mind blowing orgasm. You're at peace, completely oblivious as Matty shuffles around for a second, and you hear a shutter.

It happens so quickly, the photo was already in his hand developing when you finally open your eyes. Matty’s eyes stare back down at you, piercing your soul. In one hand, the camera, and in the other, he holds a fresh polaroid. One of you.

A blush spreads onto your face when you realize what he had done, covering your cheeks with your hand. Matty breaks eye contact to glance at the picture in his hand, his eyes widening at the sight.

It was all you, for the first time since you had pulled out that godforsaken camera. Hair strewn over the plush pillows, eyes screwed shut, and Matty’s hand groping your chest as he snapped the picture. You looked fucked out, like the personification of sex itself.

“Fuckk- you’re so pretty.” The first word sounds like a moan coming from his mouth, but he tries to hide it with the rest of his sentence. The red lipstick across your chest really did it for him, his cock twitching in his panties as he stared at the shiny polaroid. You start to get impatient.

“Why’re you looking at those when you have the real thing right in front of you?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow. You can hear the cogs turning in Matty’s brain as he lowers it from in front of his face.

Your hands travel up to grope your own tits, slightly smearing the imprint of his name. Letting out an obscene moan, you feel his own hands caress your face, pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

“Can I?” The question is small. Even in the heat of the moment, Matty always stopped and asked, gently stroking your hair and looking for any and all signs of hesitation. You decide to be mean, putting on a faux confused expression.

“Can you what?” your voice drips like honey, covering him from head to toe. Feeling him buck against your thigh, you shoot him a look, expecting an answer.

“Can I fuck you?” he whines, arms holding himself up right next to either sides of your head. “Please.” he adds, his eyes full of want and desperation. You pretend to think about it, averting your eyes and looking at the lamp on the ceiling for a moment while sucking in a deep breath.

The only thing that can be heard is Matty’s heaving breathing as he continues to buck into your thigh, although involuntarily. He tries to control himself, counting in 7’s and thinking of anything else but the person in front of him. Finally, you open your mouth to speak.

“Fuck me like you mean it, Matthew.”

The speed at which he took off the thin lace panties confining him could be recorded as a world record. Basically ripping them off, he throws them onto the steadily growing pile of clothing in the corner. Gasping for air, his eyes roll to the back of his head when your hand meets his throat, pressing against each side.

You hum, and Matty snaps back into reality, and you feel his hard cock leaking against your thigh. You wonder how long he had been sitting there, on the bed, waiting for your return. Did he touch himself? Has he cum already today? Or was he good and waited for you to give him what he really wanted.

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” you ask, right before he was about to push into you. The question takes him aback, and he nods his head.

“Only a bit, to get myself hard for you.” his voice shakes in anticipation as you process his answer.

“You didnt cum?” Matty shakes his head, curls moving with him.

“No I didn't, I promise. I waited for you. Only want you.” he mumbles into your hair, breathing in the scent of your conditioner.

You finally nod, hands pressing against his back, giving him the official go-ahead.

The moment the tip of his cock brushed against your entrance, his voice cracked. Loud moans spilled out of his mouth and directly into your ears as he pushed himself all the way inside of you, making you whimper at the stretch.

You both lay like that for a moment, before you finally tap him, telling him to move. When he finally does, he thrusts himself all the way back into you, making you cry out, nails digging into his back.

The animalistic nature of his thrusts makes you feel lightheaded, gripping onto Matty for dear life. He murmurs incoherent cries of pleasure into your hair, his hands moving down to grip your hips, meeting his thrusts halfway.

“So gorgeous, no one can compare. Feel so fucking good too, oh my go-” you clench around him, effectively cutting him off. The feel of his hands digging into your skin is painful, mixing in with the pleasure blooming between your thighs perfectly.

He doesn't let up, keeping a steady rhythm as his moans become more high pitched, signaling to you (and probably the whole neighborhood) that he was rapidly approaching the edge.

“Please let me cum, you feel so good- oh my god. You’re so wet- and warm fuckk- a-ah.” His words feed your ego, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in incredibly deeper.

Sweat beads on your forehead, and you see him pull away from the crook of your neck to stare at his name scrawled across your chest. The lipstick had started to properly smear, red running down your skin, painting it.

“C’mon, come f’me, such a good boy, go on, I know you can do it-” a guttural moan falls from Matty’s lips, his thrusts getting sloppier, cock slamming into that sweet spot inside of you over and over and over.

You come for the second time that night, your vision whites out as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. Stars dance behind closed eyelids and he slowed down slightly, giving you time to catch your breath.

“You like it when I call you a good boy? You're being so good- fuck filling me up-” This was all about Matty now, and you were determined to give him the most mind blowing orgasm of his life.

His dick twitches inside of you as you tell him to keep going, to use you to get off. Eyes widening in shock at your statement, his face quickly morphed into undeniable pleasure as his cock dragged along your plush walls, the friction sending him into what seemed like an alternate dimension.

“I look pretty, don't i? Look at your name on my chest.” you breath, your hands cupping your chest, gesturing to the bold red of his name. Matty.

“You're mine, no one else’s” his possessive side finally truly comes out to play, words spilling out from his lips before he could even properly think about them.

“I’m yours, only yours, my perfect boy, fuckk” you egg him on, your hands moving to his back, digging your nails into the muscle. You dig deep enough to draw a bit of blood, and Matty groans, raspy and desperate to fucking come.

“You’re perfect, fuckin’ made for me.” He right there, and you know it,

“Matty, you’re so good to me, so pretty- all for me, isn’t it?” you voice drips with lust, determined to make him finally fall over the edge.

“Oh god- fuck- A-ahh.” His voice is high, higher than yours even. He spills into you, his come filling you up to the brim. You moan at the sensation, pulling him in for a messy kiss, your teeth clashing together.

Matty flops on top of you, your chests pressed together as you continue your post-fuck makeout session. You can feel his come leaking out of you, pressing your thighs together to keep it off the bed.

“Why’re you so tense? I just gave you the best orgasm of your life, thank you.” of course Matty would say something like that, cocky and egotistical as ever. Your roll your eyes, debating on telling him or not.

“You just came inside of me, it's not like it just disappears.” his eyes widen in realization, and you laugh sheepishly, your face growing red. A grin spreads onto his face, and his head suddenly disappears from view.

“Let me just-” you feel his tongue in between your thighs once again, lapping up the remnants of his own orgasm. You shudder at the feeling, the overstimulation being almost too much.

He crawls back up to kiss you again. It's chaste, innocent almost, barely even a peck.

You can feel him shuffling around again, reaching to the side to grab something. The picture. He holds it up so you can both see it.

“Can I at least wank to this one? Since you have all those others of mine you constantly get off to.” he tries to sound indifferent, but deep down, you know he’s begging for your approval.

“How do you know I get off to them?” you ask, raising your eyebrows at him. Matty just laughs in your face, not realizing you were serious. How did he know?

“You're not slick, the walls are thin.” he gives you a wink, and you blush a deep shade of red, rolling your eyes at him. He sees right through your act, but chooses to leave you be.

Night had already fallen, and both of you were too exhausted to even move from your spot. Matty had switched with you, laying your head onto his chest, letting you use it as a makeshift pillow. It wasn't even 20 minutes before his soft snores filled the room, gracing your ears.

You smile to yourself, feeling his hand still in your hand from where he was stroking it. One though was clear in your mind, and you speak softly.

"I love you so much, I'm never letting you go."

#the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty x you #matty the 1975

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lipeg · 4 months

Text

Bad Jaune had left Ever Alter. He had barely taken the first step in Remmant. He was old again.

Jaune: I should have killed that girl

Weiss was jumping for joy in her mind.

Yang: Look on the bright side—

Yang's sentence was interrupted as Jaune armor crumbled to dust.

Underneath the armor.

Jaune was wearing a black shirt that seemed to be clinging to his body, showing off his muscle very good work.

His arms were strong and huge, full of scars.

Jaune looked at team RWBY.

Weiss had her mouth open and was drooling as blood spurted from her nose.

Blake's face turned red.

Ruby just blinked.

Yang: You are now Dilf! A, your sword shining

Yang pointed to Jaune's sword that had fallen to the ground.

Jaune turned to see that his weapon was indeed emitting a strong glow.

His eyes widened for an instant.

He grabbed his weapon and said something very low.

Jaune: Calm down

All except Blake, who was confused by what Jaune had said.

His weapon stopped glowing, Jaune sighed.

Jaune stood, holding the weapon in his left hand. He wasn't holding his weapon by the hilt, he was holding it by the sheath.

Because he didn't have the accessory to hold his weapon.

Ruby: What happened to your armor?

Jaune: Ruby, that armor should have been destroyed a long time ago

Ruby: ?

Jaune: That armor was rubbish, I wish I had gotten rid of it long ago and replaced it with a new one.

Yang: So.... Why didn't you do it?

Jaune: I was cursed

Ruby: By whom?

Jaune: A cursed creature that I should have killed at the first opportunity. That thing still laughs! Just remembering it makes me angry

His eyes began to glow for a moment.

Weiss: What was the curse

Jaune calmed down.

Jaune: I could never take off my armor. If my armor was destroyed, I would die instantly. Also, the armor would lose its resistance with every hit I took

Blake: But your armor is still quite good

Jaune: It's because of my aura

RWBY: What?

Jaune: It is serious? I was in that place for years, do you think I had no training?

RWBY:.... 😶

Jaune: I spent most of my youth training to improve my fighting skills. This allowed me to develop my skills and to evolve my Semblante

Yang: Then why were you so easy to defeat?

Jaune: Curses also diminish my skills a little

Weiss: Wait a minute. You said your armor didn't break because of your aura right?

Jaune: Yeah

Weiss: But that should be impossible. And who was this creature that cursed you, and why did he or she do it?

Jaune: Why didn't I sleep with her

...

Yang: She was sexy?

Blake: YANG!

Yang: There must be a reason he doesn't want to have sex

Weiss: Let's get back to the main topic. Who is this woman

Jaune: None of you know her, her name is not found in any fairy tale

Ruby: So who is she, where did you find her

Jaune: She called herself Merlin. I found her while exploring the underground of that place

Weiss: Does that place have a underground?

Jaune: Yes, I would say or I could say that the underground is better than the surface. I had a good time down there and discovered and learned some really interesting things there.

Yang: Come on, does it really matter if she was sexy or not?

Blake: YANG!

Yang: THAT!?

Jaune: *sigh* Yes, Yang, she was sexy

Yang: So why didn't you sleep with her?

Jaune: Why didn't I want

Yang: You are a shame

Jaune: Have you ever looked in the mirror?

Yang: It is clear! I am wonderful, there is no one like me

Jaune started laughing.

Yang: I told the funny guy

Jaune: Yes, in that one I saw the most beautiful women there are

Yang: I doubt

Jaune pulled his scroll out of his pocket.

Jaune: So see

Team RWBY was impressed.

Blake looked at Yang.

Yang looked at Blake.

The two of them were nothing compared to this woman.

Jaune put his scroll in his pocket.

Jaune: Let's go before we get caught in a sandstorm

Ruby and Yang were crying in their uncle's arms.

Weiss was reunited with her family.

Jaune...

Ren:...

Nora:...

Ren:...

Nora:...

Ren:...

Nora:...

Ren:...

Nora:...

Jaune: You're not going to say anything?

Nora: What do you want us to say!?

Ren: Nora is right, we…… We don't expect you like this

Jaune: Like this?

Nora: You look taller!

Jaune: I'm still 180

Nora: You've become a wall of muscles!

Jaune: I'm not even that muscular

Nora: That beard and that ponytail and... That's Pyrrha's

Nora pointed to the piece of cloth in his hair.

Jaune: * Sigh * Yes, that's what was left of her, I couldn't save the rest. I went through hell on earth

Nora and Ren looked at their former leader and saw a man breaking.

Nora: Jaune, can I take a picture of you?

Jaune: Can

When Jaune crossed his arms, Nora ran very quickly and lifted his shirt.

Jaune had a well-defined six-pack and a few scars, but there was one that stood out.

Four horizontal claw marks on the abdomen.

Nora took the photo very quickly before Jaune could do anything.

Jaune looked at Ren.

Ren raised his shoulders and then lowered them because he didn't understand anything.

Jaune: Nora who did you send this photo to?

With a smile on her face, Nora showed her scroll.

His eyes widened a little.

Saphron Cotta-Arc

Single mothers of Atlas

#rwby #jaune arc #old jaune #Dilf Jaune #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #nora valkyrie #lie ren #yang xiao long #RWBY after V9

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babeydollx · 1 year

Text

Snuggles & Warmth

Warnings: cursing, smut, fluff, cockwarming, snuggles, some aftercare

Pairings: Riven x Female Fairy Reader

Summary: In which after Riven and Y/N have sex, they snuggle together and cockwarm.

Riven finished using the warm cloth on your skin and he put it in the bathroom before coming back out and laying down beside you. You smiled and slowly crawled over to your boyfriend before laying down beside him. "Hey." Riven said with a smile. "Hi.." You said with a small giggle. You played with his fingers and then looked up at the brunette boy above you.

"Baby?" You asked softly. "Yeah?" He asked as he looked down at you. "I know we've done having sex for the night but, can I at least keep it warm for you?" You asked with a giggle and a small smirk as your hand slid down to the bulge in his sweatpants. Riven smirked a little as you did so. "Well, since you asked so nicely." He said with a smile as he leaned down and kissed you.

The two of you made out for a few minutes before you crawled onto your boyfriend. You pulled off your baggy night shirt before pulling off Riven's sweatpants. You positioned yourself on top of him before slowly sinking down onto his cock, causing both of you to sigh out in pleasure. Once his dick was all the way inside of your cunt, you laid down on top of Riven resting your head on his chest.

He smiled and gently played with your soft hair before kissing the top of your head making you smile and giggle softly. You always felt so lucky to have Riven in your life. You honestly didn't know what you would do without him. You needed him. Riven also didn't have much luck himself when it came to love but, when it came to you, you were the first women he truly felt in love with.

You used your fingers to gently draw invisible shapes on your boyfriend's chest. The feeling of Riven caressing your head was making you sleepy. You yawned softly and he smiled as you grew tired. Your eyes gently fluttered shut and you quietly fell asleep laying on top of Riven while he held you in his arms.

Author's Note: tysm for reading!

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mellowsadistic · 1 month

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The Magician's Game - Chapter 11

Madelyn’s New Life

Maddy sucked her thumb lustily as she toddled out on stage. She was dressed in a sparkly pink t-shirt that looked like it was designed for a ten-year-old. The words “Daddy’s Little Girl” were written across the front in sequins, and it was so tight that the outline of her large, braless breasts were clearly visible beneath it, her nipples jutting out obscenely. Below the waist, she wore a tiny pink miniskirt; the plastic waistband of her diaper stuck at least two inches out of the top, and the thick white padding flashed between her thighs with every step she took. Her long, newly blonde hair was tied up in a pair of high pigtails that jiggled about as she walked, tickling the sides of her face. She thought about how ridiculous she must look, and felt her pussy moisten.

Once she reached the lectern in the middle of the stage, Maddy looked out at the crowd of students sitting in rows before her. They were mostly girls, staring at her with expressions of shock and disgust and second-hand embarrassment. The few men in the room were looking at her wide-eyed, and Maddy giggled as she noticed a few tents appearing in the fronts of their jeans. Her thumb started to work a little faster in her mouth. By the time the first semester was over, she hoped she would’ve been able to wrap her lips around each and every one of their cocks and given them a good suck.

But she frowned when she saw what all the women were wearing. She didn’t think she could see even a single one of them dressed appropriately – either like dirty whores or sweet little girls. What were they thinking?! If she were a student again, she’d go to every class dressed in nothing but a tutu and a pair of fairy wings. And her nappy, of course.

Maddy giggled vapidly again. “Hi evewyone!” she said into the microphone. “Today I’m gonna talk about how girlth are weally jutht big babieth who, wike, totawwy need men to keep dem in line!” She realised her thumb was garbling her words, so she yanked it out of her mouth with a wet pop. Normally she always had to have something between her lips, usually her thumb or somebody’s cock, but talking about a woman’s rightful place was an exception. Daddy said she could keep her thumb out of her mouth for as long as she needed if she was explaining how women were just whores and maids and overgrown babies. “Oopsie!” she giggled, pulling a silly face. “I’m, like, such a dumdum! I totally forgot to stop sucking my thumbie!” She played with one of her trashy blonde pigtails and fought the urge to stick the end in her mouth and start chewing on it.

There was a stunned silence in the room. Many of the students couldn’t believe their eyes, or their ears. This had to be some sort of joke! How could Madelyn Smith, the renowned feminist activist and academic, be standing in front of them with plumped up lips and an oversized rack, dressed up like a little girl while she spouted some lisping, fetishy nonsense about how women were really just oversized babies?!

“But it’s good for girls to, like, always be sucking on something,” Maddy continued. “It means our mouths will always be wet and ready for cock! And it stops our silly bitching too. Men can just, like, shove a pacifier in our mouths when they want us to shut the fuck up! A girl’s mouth is for sucking, not talking.”

Many people in the crowd were whispering to each other now, wondering whether their professor had had some sort of nervous breakdown, or if she was suddenly going to announce this was all just a bizarre prank.

Maddy looked over to the door and saw her Daddy lounging there against the wall, smiling encouragingly at her. She grinned back at him. She loved her Daddy. It was strange, because she was pretty sure she’d used to hate him. But that was back when they were colleagues, equals, before the Magician had helped her understand her rightful place as a silly little pants-wetting cumrag. She was Daddy’s property now, and she was much happier.

She turned back to her students. “So anyway, I know this course was gonna be about, like, girls being oppressed or something, but now it’s gonna be about how girls are total dummies who deserve to be put in diapers! It’s also gonna be about, like, how to suck dick and stuff!” The muttering was growing louder and louder, but Maddy ignored it. “And you’re not gonna be able to drop out of this class either!” she said brightly. “I know a man who says he’s gonna make it so none of the girls can leave this class without failing their whole degree, so unless you want all the time and money you’ve spent at college to be, like, a total waste, then you’re gonna have to pass my exams on cocksucking and slutwear and un-potty-training!” Maddy giggled as some of the girls in the crowd exchanged confused, fearful looks. She was sure most of them didn’t believe her yet, but they would. The Magician said he was going to make sure every single one of her female students ended up as diaper-dependent sluts, and she was going to help!

At that moment, Maddy felt a slight pressure in her bladder, and she immediately started wetting herself. She let out an “Aaaaah…” of relief as the warmth spread across her groin and soaked into her nappy. Women didn’t deserve to use toilets. It was yucky and embarrassing having to go to the potty in her pants, but that just made her pussy tingle even more.

“Anyway!” she chirped, blushing and squirming in place, enjoying the sensation of her pee-soaked diaper squishing against her privates. “It’s just, like, an introduction today ‘cause I gotta go do my porn shoot! Bye-bye! I’ll see you tomorrow for our first class on how girls should dress like immature skanks!” And with that, she toddled off the stage and over to her Daddy, her tits bouncing beneath her tight top and her soaking wet nappy jiggling and drooping low between her legs.

The moment she reached him, he shoved his hand down the front of her diaper. “Oh my!” he said, “I think someone’s done a big wee-wee, hasn’t she?”

“I peed!” Maddy said happily, making him chuckle. Some of the nearest girls were staring at the scene in horror.

“That’s right, sweetie, you did go pee!” Maddy’s Daddy cooed. “What a clever girl!”

Maddy glowed with his praise and shoved her thumb back into her mouth where it belonged. She felt her Daddy’s hand cup the soggy seat of her padded bottom, and another pleasurable tingle jolted into her pussy. Her head was so foggy with happiness that she barely noticed herself being led out of the building and over to the car. She sat in the back, in her cramped car-seat, sucking her thumb dreamily and imagining it was a nice thick cock, until they arrived back at Daddy’s house. It had been her house once, but stupid little girls like her couldn’t be trusted to own anything. Daddy had explained it to her. So now it was his house.

He helped her out of her car-seat (she wasn’t allowed to undo her seatbelt by herself) and spurred her inside with a few sharp smacks on her bum. The moment she was through the door, he lifted her sparkly pink t-shirt over her head, exposing her enormous tits, and tugged her skirt down her legs so that her thoroughly soaked nappy was on full display.

“Are you ready to be Daddy’s little pornstar, sweetie?” he cooed, making Maddy giggle and wiggle her bottom happily. She loved being his pornstar!

He took her into the living room, where there was a large plastic playmat lying on the carpet. Maddy’s training potty was sitting in the corner – she didn’t get to use it much, but sometimes Daddy thought it was funny to make her sit on it and try to “make tinkles” for him.

Maddy got to her knees on her playmat and sat still while Daddy tied her bib around her neck. It was bright pink, like many things in her new life, and had the words “Daddy’s Little Whore” written across it. There was still some dried semen on it from that morning’s blowjob, and it didn’t even come close to covering her huge jugs. Her Daddy fiddled about behind the camera that was pointing in their direction, and then he smiled and walked over to her.

“Ready, sweetie?” he asked, unzipping his fly and taking out his cock. “This one is going to be called Ex-Feminist Sucks Dick in a Pissy Pamper.”

Maddy bounced up and down on her bottom in excitement, her nappy squishing wetly beneath her. “I’m, like, an ex-feminist in a pissy Pamper!” she squealed.

“That’s right, sweetie,” her Daddy said with a laugh. “You are.” He smirked down at the woman who had once been such a bitch to him when they’d worked together at the college, and shoved his cock between her eager lips. “And that’s all you’ll ever be.”

#mellowsadistic

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evadoupixii · 3 months

Text

DRIVER'S ERA // CHAPTER 1

➸ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: (18+) Slow burn/ mentions of traumatic experiences and depression : Eventual smut* Mutual masturbation and mentions sexual as*ult //Fem!reader // Bad driving! Swearing: Toxic relationship dynamics: Phone s*x! Descriptions of alcohol abuse. Fluff! Mentions and descriptive scenes of blowjobs/handjobs at some point in the story idk. Set in the last year of high school (All characters are 18) : Art credits!!: Niharikajetty twitter

➸ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: Splitting up this fic into parts because there’s so many ideas gong on in my head and i just wanted to put something out there in the meantime. All Tags seen above will be in upcoming chapters of the story! Thanks for reading!

To put things into perspective you never passed your driver's test. In this current moment, as you sat in a bland white waiting room adorned with blue chairs and the occasional ring from a cellphone, you had a refurbished memory. Throughout the last three years of high school, you had made friends and one by one everyone in the group had either got a car, a license, a learner's permit or something equivalent to a drivers license. Skipping classes every other day to go get ice cream or go on a target run, with the occasional mid-day movie during your chemistry class. which for all your parents knew, you were in.

Up until last week, you and your friend Sasha had been the only ones in the group without any sort of completed driver's education. That is until Sasha and the near-death experience she had with her instructor on the road,had somehow got a cool passing grade on her first road test. The group was elated and this in turn made you finally step up to do the thing that was long overdue.

As you scroll on your phone, you hear the ding and the woosh of the sliding automatic doors, as footsteps enter the building. You glance up and almost feel yourself wanting to blink two times more than you normally would at the sight in front of you. And you did just that, probably looking half-blind and a little bit crazy.

Standing at the receptionist desk in the room was a tall 5’8 man with dark brown hair touching his shoulders,a slender build and dressed with a dark green t-shirt that hugged his lean chiseled muscles and black jeans. He scanned the room and locked eyes with you. Finally giving you a clear view of his dark green eyes.

Where do I know you from? You thought as you quickly broke eye contact and looked back down at your phone.

You heard a deep voice say something that sounded like a “Thank you” to the receptionist and heard footsteps coming toward you. Not looking up from your phone you watched the soles of his black vans move down the aisle you were sitting and sat at the end of the opposite aisle of yourself. You don't know why, but you noticed how your breathing became a little shallow as he was walking towards you. You brushed it off as being irritable, as you were still frustrated from the post-driving lesson that went worse than you expected.

Taking a breath, you got up from your seat and walked down the aisle towards the receptionist's desk. You are being sought on scrolling on through your phone trying to avoid awkward eye contact with anyone. Even if you were the one who felt someone boring their eyes into your back as you greeted the receptionist.

Having set up a date for your next driving lesson with the receptionist she had told you to wait a moment as she got up and moved to the printer beside her to print a confirmation of your next appointment. As the whirring of the printer filled the silence of the room you glanced over your shoulder to see the man with brown hair getting up and following a woman into a room. As he walked into the room first the women reached up to put a red slot down on the wall of the side of the door to indicate the room was occupied. Your eyes drifted to a sign on the side of the door labeled “Driving therapy”.

Staring at your ceiling,the fairy lights that adorned your room still cast a yellowish mellow tone as it was only 6 in the morning and you wanted some alone time before the stress of the day came—today marked the second week of the beginning of your senior year. Track season was here and you had in no fucking way looked forward to weekly 4 am practices on the field. Getting up and making your bed, showering, and picking out clothes from your closet. A fresh face of makeup and you were ready.

As a frank ocean song played from your speaker, you Looked in the mirror as you touched up your hair one last time. Appreciating the way you had physically evolved from freshmen year as you looked in the mirror at yourself. Maybe it was all the stress that uplifted from your shoulders knowing that in 6 months time, your life would start/.. The life YOU wanted. your phone buzzed on the bathroom counter next to you. Grabbing it and sliding up to unlock it, you saw the group chat come to life with you and your friends from track.

Everyone talking about how you were all telepathically connected because it seemed like every one of you woke up early, with the track flashbacks in mind. Sasha had texted something about how she genuinely thinks seeing her dirty-ass new balances in the corner of her room looming like a ghost gives her PTSD.

A good 10 minutes later, you were downstairs raiding the refrigerator, Just in time for you to hear a loud honk outside your home. You ran to your parents and gave them a kiss on each of their cheeks wishing them a good day. Their voices wishing you a good day at school, are cut off as you close your front door and rush to the passenger side of Sasha’s car.

Before a word could come out of your mouth, Sasha leaned over to the passenger's side and wrapped her arms around your neck giving you a hug that seemed like it was meant for goodbyes.

“What’s this about?” You said laughing nervously, patting her on the back.

“I can’t miss my best friend?.” She said letting you go, pulling out of your driveway. She rolled down the windows a bit to let the wind consume the car. Her auburn hair waving around her face.

“How did your driving lesson go yesterday? With your slow ass.” She glanced at you with a smirk on her face.

You scoffed and sighed. Leaning back into the passenger seat and looking out the window as the car passed the tower of pine trees on the side of the road. “ It was……good?. Let’s just say the instructors probably have never had to replace so many cones.”

“Oh no that was definitely on the agenda after i took my test.” She says.

A moment of silence passed in the car before your eyes found each other and you both burst out laughing. Before long you and Sasha were pulling up into the high school parking lot, finding a spot next to Annie and Historia. As Sasha pulled up you rolled down the window on the passenger side and waited for them to notice you. Annie was on the driver's side of her black jeep reapplying her lipgloss in the mirror. Historia was in the passenger side with her headphones in, scrolling on her phone.

“These bitches.” Sasha said, pulling out her phone.

You watched Historia roll her eyes as she looked at her phone and pulled down her headphones to rest on her shoulders, answering her phone.

“Hello?” She said on the other side.

“ Look to your left please and thank you .” Sasha said, while gathering her backpack out of the backseat. “And let me catch you rolling your eyes at my notification again bitch!”

You watched Historia look over to see you, a snide smirk enveloping her face. Sasha hung up the phone before the both of you could hear her witty comeback. Annie turned to you smiling and waving. You playfully looked around as if you were searching for the person she was waving at, as Sasha stuck her middle finger up to them from behind you. Annie smirked and mouthed “Let’s go”.

The first couple of periods of the day went by smoothly. The four of you had the majority of your classes together except electives. Historia had taken music appreciation, Annie took art and Sasha was taking culinary Arts.

Walking into the classroom designated for Plant science you scanned the room for familiar faces and smiled recognizing a familiar blond head in the back.

Armin waved you over and greeted you as you sat down and exchanged stories about your summer. Of course, the stories of your friend group going to the lake and bumming around the mall didn't match up to Armin’s extravagant trips to Europe, but nevertheless, it had its meaning.

You looked him over and noticed Armin’s features had gotten more sharp and he seemed to have more….body mass. You didn’t know how to put it but besides the trips, Armin had definitely spent some time in the gym.

You noticed the slight blush come across his face as he noticed you staring. “I-I’m thinking about joining the football team this year…”

You turned to him mouth agape. “What made you want to join in so late?”

He sheepishly smiled and started to play with the hem of his dark red long-sleeved shirt. “I just made it a goal for myself to get out and do something memorable when it comes to getting involved with the school. I-i mean we are about to graduate and all and I just feel like I haven't really done enough-”

You turn to him and dramatically place both of your hands on both sides of his shoulders and look him dead in the eye. Your face inches from his. “But you have Armin. You have done enough,” you said smiling.

Besides Armin running for class president freshman year and being secretary of two of the most well-rounded clubs of the school. Placing second in the mathematics UIL competition and won a $50,000 scholarship for writing an essay about why Spider-Man was his role model. If anyone in this school was an inspiration to you it was Armin. Even if it wasn't conventional, if he wanted to do something then he would do it diligently.

As you two continued to talk you watched the slew of students rush into the classroom as class was about to start, and that's when your heart did an unfamiliar flutter. Walking into the classroom was the man you had seen at your driver's lesson last night. Same tall and lean build, with black tattoos peeking out of his dark gray long-sleeved shirt that had rolled up to his elbows. Bundles of brown leather bracelets adorned both of his wrists. His hair was tucked into a bun, with strands of hair framing his face. Something you hadn't noticed when you had seen him last was the silver stud piercings that were placed on both sides of his nostrils. As he walked toward a seat on the opposite side of class from you he looked over the room and locked eyes with you. Again.

“Do you know him?” Armin said next to you, as he watched you break eye contact with the boy.

“No, I don't, he doesn't look familiar.” You said smiling sheepishly, looking down at your crossed arms on the desk.

Armin looked at you with a puzzled look on his face as he looked over at the boy with dark green eyes that never took his eyes off you. The boy’s Jaw became tense as he slowly diverted his gaze from you over to the front of the classroom. Even from a distance, Armin could see the boy visibly become rigid as if he had just remembered something from looking at you.

“I heard something about him moving here a couple of months ago from Jean,” Armin said reaching into his backpack and pulling out his laptop. “Apparently he played football at his old school, I don't know why he moved though.”

The teacher had turned off the lights and turned on the projector to show the class a film about germination to which you were barely able to pay attention too. Throughout the entirety of class, you caught yourself stealing glances at the boy. The light bounced off from the projector in the back of the classroom illuminating his side profile. Your rational mind telling you that he looked like every other alt boy in the school, but in all honesty, knowing if he turned to you and mouthed “Come with me, you would get out of your seat and be whenever he wanted you to be in a matter of seconds. The chorus of chairs scrapped across the floor as students got up and scurried out of class as it came to an end. You say your goodbye to Armin, pack up your things, and make your way out of the classroom looking everywhere but at who you wanted to.

#aot x black reader #eren x y/n #eren x reader #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #aot drabbles #aot smut #aot #eren yeager #eren aot #high school #y/n #black reader #fanfic #fandom

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cosmerelists · 9 months

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Interviewing My Wife about the Cosmere

My wife has not read any Sanderson. However, she DOES listen to me babble about it at all hours, and she does follow this blog. So I thought I’d see what she’s picked up via osmosis about the Cosmere.

Question 1: “What are five things you are sure are true about the Cosmere?”

“Kaladin is very hot and invented therapy!”

“Jasnah is hot.”

“Dalinar is very smoofy and I like him and Navani.”

“Steris is you: she likes lists and is organized and awesome and my favorite.”

“Kaladin’s dad is a jerk and I hate him.”

Question 2: “What is the difference between men & women on Roshar?”

“Men don’t read and women are cooler.”

Question 3: “What is Rlain?”

“That’s the crab guy.”

Question 4: “What is Renarin?”

“He’s the one who leaps off of walls and has a crush on the crab guy.”

Question 5: “Who is Kelsier?”

“He’s the evil guy who is wishy-washy about being evil.”

Question 6: “Who is Vin?”

“The bad-ass lady. I don’t remember what she does but only that she is bad ass about it.”

Question 7: “Can you tell me the plot of any book?”

“The first one: Kaladin is with a bridge company that pushes bridges somehow and they all die apparently.”

Question 8: “Can you tell me about any magic system?”

“They eat metal because it gives them power but they can only use certain ones unless they are the avatar ones but that is rare. There are also ones that have spikes and get taken over by a god. Even though a spike is like having metal inside you so it seems like those are the same.”

Question 9: “Who is Hoid?”

“Hoid is the one who wears Hawaiian shirts and is kinda a dingy but he is always there. Does he even do anything cool? And somehow he got with Jasnah which boggles me.”

Question 10: “Which character is in Fortnite?”

“Uh.....Kelsier?”

Question 11: “What are spren?”

“Spren are like sword fairies and sometimes they get sad and scream.”

Question 12: “Who is Szeth?”

“I got nothing. Is he from Mistborn?”

Question 13: “How did Dalinar’s brother die?”

“I don’t remember. Killed by a lady probably? One of the badass ones. Did Navani kill him?”

Question 14: “How did Kaladin get out of the bridge crews?”

“He saved Adolin and everyone else died.”

Question 15: “Has Shallan ever killed anyone?”

“Yes. Killed her mom and dad.”

Question 16: “Has Adolin ever killed anyone?”

“Probably! He’s a duelist! (off my expression) They aren’t duels to the death?”

Question 17: “Has Navani killed anyone?”

“She killed the crab lady that she was making logic-sex-brain looks at.”

Question 18: “Has Renarin killed anyone?”

“Probably not. He just likes to fall off buildings.”

Question 19: “Why is there a war between the ‘crabs’ and the humans?”

“The crabs don’t like the magic thing. Like when Navani and the crab lady were trying to figure it out.”

Question 20: “How did Dalinar’s wife die?”

“He set them all on fire.”

#cosmere #cosmerelists #stormlight archive #mistborn

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robthegoodfellow · 18 days

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I'm Glad My Dad Died

mungrove | slightly expanded version of fic written for @strangerthingscharityzine | ao3

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Billy had a secret: he was glad his dad was dead. So glad that even when his mom sold their house in Ocean Beach and moved them to Hawkins, Indiana, uprooting him from his friends and the sea and everything Billy loved, he still wouldn’t go back to the way things were. Given the options—California, dad alive; or Indiana, dad dead—he’d pick the second every time.

He would, even though Hawkins was its own hell. Learned the hard way that among prepubescent country bumpkins, embroidered roses on your shirt and hair like Shirley Temple bought you a one-way ticket to Loserville.

It was the fall of 1979. Disco was dying and former flower children were gearing up to vote for Reagan. Kumbaya over, time to make America great again.

So, yeah—sixth grade sucked, but stuff at home was world’s better. They were living with Aunt Doris—because San Diego was too expensive, his mom said, and wouldn’t it be nice to get a fresh start?

Mom was really into the whole fresh start thing—which Billy suspected was fueled by guilt and determination to be the kind of mother she hadn’t been before. And… he appreciated that. He did.

But—he wished she would stop? Put down the pen, step away from the extracurricular sign-up sheets.

Because if the outfit put a target on his back, swim team aimed the bow, and band fired the arrow.

You’ll miss the water, honey. And you love music!

She wasn’t wrong. He did love those things—but not enough to willingly wear a Speedo in public or blunder through some Beethoven on the flute. Also in public.

Oh—why the flute? Because she’d fed him a steady diet of hippie tunes from the cradle and knew how much he dug Jethro Tull. Perfectly reasonable explanation—his peers would definitely understand.

Here lies Billy Hargrove, innocent victim of social homicide.

The bullying was relentless, but Billy figured he could take it. No middle school bully could come close to the one he’d lived with all his life.

You know, the one he was glad was dead.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Billy hadn’t wanted to attend the talent show, but Mom insisted it was important to support his friends. By which she meant her friends—women she’d been palling around with who had kids in said show.

Kids she’d been aggressively arranging playdates with like Billy was five.

Patrick’s talent was making twenty free-throw shots in a row. Robin’s was singing “This Land is Your Land” in four different languages. His mom and Mrs. Buckley had laughed about keeping the less than patriotic lyrics, assuming the Spanish rendition would fly over people’s heads.

Billy felt bad even thinking it, but he did wonder if his mom pushing these particular friends at him was part of her fresh start campaign.

Pat was black. Robin was a girl. And his dad had a habit of muttering snide remarks about anyone who wasn’t a WASP packing a sizable stinger—who wasn’t a clone of Neil Hargrove, basically.

And look, Pat and Robin were—fine. But he knew and they knew that they were only hanging out because their moms wanted them to, which was awkward as hell. Made his palms sweat whenever they were together or whenever they said hi at school despite him being a fairy freak according to kids whose opinions mattered.

They were nice, but it felt like pity. Embarrassing in a way that made him shrivel up inside.

So he wasn’t in the best mood, slumped in the auditorium between his mother and Doris, praying no one pelted him with shit from behind. Mom felt crappy enough about all those years with Neil—Billy didn’t need her kicking herself for scooping him out of the fire and into a frying pan.

Pat set a record—28 in a row—and Billy clapped. Robin sang her song wearing a daisy crown, and Billy clapped. Dully, he watched as stagehands set up the next act, hauling out a drum kit.

Gareth, this shrimpy sixth grader, sat at the drums. Then an eighth grader came out, followed by a couple kids in seventh, the former bearing an electric guitar, one of the latter a bass. The guitarist waved, leaned into the mic—skinny guy with a buzzcut, eyes big and dark as an alien.

We are Corroded Coffin—paused as a contingent of the audience went nuts—and this song is called Paranoid.

In the next row, a kid whispered, excited: Think they’ll make Coleman pull the plug again?

Gareth banged his drumsticks, counting them off.

The opening riffs were like nothing Billy had heard before—this grind of chords that rattled teeth, thrummed in the chest. He straightened, compelled forward, a fishing line hooked deep.

Buzzcut was bent over the strings so low that all you could see was the top of his head, a fuzzy cue ball. Then Gareth kicked in, and the front man wailed the first verse, this nasal staccato, sort of speak-singing.

Billy scrambled to decipher the rapidfire—caught bits of the first verses. Then the bridge begged for help, and the rest landed loud and clear.

I need someone to show me The things in life that I can't find I can't see the things that make true happiness I must be blind

The words were meant for him—just for Billy. It’s me. The guitarist leapt, plunged into a driving solo. The song’s about me.

Make a joke and I will sigh And you will laugh and I will cry Happiness I cannot feel And love to me is so unreal

Helpless, Billy turned to his mom, who grinned, whispering they’re great, aren’t they? He could only nod, swinging back to the guitarist, riveted until the final blaring note.

For Christmas, Billy unwrapped the smallest package under the tree—a cassette. It was all he’d asked for: Black Sabbath’s greatest hits album.

Because that night of the talent show, he sold his soul for rock n’ roll.

More specifically, for heavy metal.

More secretly, for the boy with the big brown eyes.

Eddie, he’d found out at school the next day, gossip overheard at lunch. The boy was Eddie.

Eddie Munson.

And whenever Billy caught a glimpse of him, the rest of that year, he thrummed like an electric guitar.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Unfortunately, his passion for headbanging and powerchords did not meaningfully improve the remainder of middle school, and by the time he walked the stage at eighth grade graduation, Billy resolved to make a change—give himself a fresh start on his terms.

First, he mowed endless lawns and bought a new wardrobe: bootcut jeans with matching boots, which lent him some height and a certain swagger; button downs in dark colors worn open to his sternum and white tees like the crew from Outsiders; a bitchin’ leather jacket.

His hair had progressed from Shirley Temple to Farrah Fawcett, so he trotted to the barber for a Bon Jovi bi-level. Almost chickened out at the mall when he got his ear pierced, but loved the way the earring swung from his left lobe… though the right would’ve been more accurate.

He quit band and swim. Thought maybe he’d try basketball instead, and enlisted Pat to help him practice.

They were actual buddies by then.

Lastly, he took up smoking. Marlboro Reds, because they were badass. Soldiered through the pack all summer, suppressing a gag on every pull till he was puffing like a chimney.

August before ninth grade, Pat’s brother let them tag along to a party at the quarry; if Billy got in good with upperclassmen, it could pave the way to social acceptance—maybe even… popularity?

Total pipe dream, but then… it worked.

That night was one for the record books: first time smoking dope, shot-gunning a beer… first time a girl went down on him.

First time he’d seen Eddie in two years. Wouldn’t even have recognized him, except the eyes hadn’t changed. Eddie was a junior and looked it: taller, wild dark hair to his shoulders, tattoos peeking from his sleeves. He made a brief appearance and vanished—there to sell some supply, not socialize.

Billy wished he’d stayed. Admitted then what he was most excited about for high school: the chance to see Eddie Munson again.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Ironically, the object of Billy’s obsession had suffered a fall from grace in the transition to the big leagues: swirling rumors swore he was a Satan-worshiping anarchist and a burnout to boot. A weirdo who played geeky games with his loser friends.

Except—unlike Billy, Eddie didn’t give a fuck. While Billy strutted around vaguely unsettled, ill at ease with his costume, this immersive performance for the foreseeable future, Eddie had unveiled his freak flag—reveled in it, let it fly.

Regret gnawed at him, grew in Billy’s gut—knew if he were a little braver, he could trash this cool kid stuff and…

End of Eddie’s senior year, Billy was sick at heart. Knew he’d missed his shot.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

So imagine his confusion, surprise—his hidden euphoric delight—when Billy spotted that dark mop atop a wiry frame loping across the parking lot on the first day of eleventh grade.

Eddie should have graduated, but for whatever reason… hadn’t.

Thus, a new resolution: seize this chance. Be Eddie’s friend.

By second semester, Billy had worked his way up to casual chit chat and also, incidentally, was a raging pothead—so much so that his mother was worried, and she had spent the 60s stoned out of her gourd.

Let him experiment, Doris advised, winking at Billy over dinner. His grades are fine. What’s the harm?

The following evening, Doris showed him her special cookies stashed in the freezer, cautioning him to only ever take one bite and be patient. Billy asked if he could give one to his friend.

Top tier moment, right up there with Dad dying. Eddie’s eyes lit up all starry, demanded Billy come hang so they could make like Keebler—try the old elfin magic—and Billy was blessed to learn that Loaded Eddie = Handsy Eddie.

Blessed and cursed, because Eddie learned that Blazed Billy = Honest Billy. Tell me a secret, Eddie said, tickling. Tell me a secret.

Nothing happened. Eddie was just… affectionate. Bit of a snuggler. Who now knew he was the reason Billy was such a metalhead.

And that Billy was glad—about his dad.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Eddie was held back again, and suddenly math and history were Billy’s favorite classes because Eddie sat next to him in the back row. Seemed to do decently with Billy there egging him on.

Thus, his final resolution: graduate with Eddie. Drag him across the finish line if necessary. Billy held study sessions he didn’t need at the library after school, invited Eddie to join—and Eddie did.

Eddie invited Billy to come see his band play at a local bar on Tuesdays—and Billy did.

Tell me a secret, Eddie said one weekend, when they were sharing a bowl, and Billy snorted, gazed into bloodshot eyes. Glad you got held back. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be doing this. Eddie smirked, soft. Getting high? Billy laughed. Hanging out.

Billy turned eighteen that March, and the Buckleys and McKinneys came over to celebrate, as usual. Unusual was the doorbell as they were about to eat, Eddie and Wayne trooping in, sorry for being late.

Robin picked up on something that night—cornered him in the bathroom. Are you and Eddie…? Billy went tight, and she rushed to reassure. It’s okay if you are. I am, too. So Billy breathed, calmed. I am. I dunno if he is. Robin arched her brow. From where I’m sitting, odds are good.

Billy spent weeks yanking hope by the roots.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Come May, they walked in green cap and gown—hugged in the milling crowd, Eddie cackling wet in his ear, a clinging koala. Didn’t think I could do it.

Billy brought him along to Robin’s graduation party. In the backyard, her old childhood treehouse beckoned, and they heeded the call.

Tell me a secret, Eddie said, sitting back against mossy boards. They weren’t even high. He flicked Billy’s earring—set his heart swinging. That should be on the other side, Billy said, and stared until Eddie flushed red, understood. I got a secret, he said, and Billy didn’t dare to know but did.

Eddie said it: I’ve wanted to kiss you all year.

A click as Billy swallowed, bone dry. Then do it.

And Eddie did.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

#mungrove #when characters meet as kids you know the drill #apologies to jennette mccurdy #eddie munson #billy hargrove #guest appearances from billy's mom robin buckley and pat mckinney

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daydreaming-en-pointe · 2 months

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the swan and her princess (part 2)

summary: Swan Lake isn’t all beauty and grace, contrary to popular belief. And you experience firsthand that as you wage a one-sided war with your “rival” for the role of Odette.

chapter summary: A pleasant surprise turns out to be possibly not so pleasant after all.

pairing: Gwen Stacy (Spider-Woman) x fem!Ballerina!Reader [aka some sort of a messy Ballet!AU]

word count: 2695

warnings: cussing, ballet terms, creative liberties taken since I’ve never been to Lincoln Center and the research I’ve done may or may not be fully accurate

a/n: :D got a little carried away with this one whoops doing this is much harder than i expected this au is taking up my entire brain pls help

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 (pending)

glossary:

Barre: A handrail used by ballet dancers to maintain balance while exercising. One hand is placed on the barre at all times, and the dancer stands beside it.

Kitri: The feisty and wilful heroine of the ballet Don Quixote. When her father Lorenzo tries to marry her off for money, she doesn’t play the victim, but hatches a plan to marry Basilio, the charming barber who has won her heart, and pursue her own version of happiness. As a dancer’s role, Kitri is athletic and demanding. Kitri wears striking red costumes (look them up, they’re really beautiful) and gestures expressively with a fan in a nod to her Spanish heritage.

Don Quixote: Don Quixote is a ballet in three acts, based on episodes taken from the famous novel Don Quixote de la Mancha by Miguel de Cervantes.

Kurta: A loose collarless shirt/dress of a type worn by people in South Asia, usually with a salwar, churidars, or pyjama.

Dupatta: A length of material arranged in two folds over the chest and thrown back around the shoulders, typically with a salwar kameez. Usually worn by women from South Asia.

Right after you set foot in the studio and dropped your bag in the corner, you made a beeline for the cacophonous, eagerly buzzing crowd that had formed around the cast list.

You saw a familiar duffel bag and raised your eyebrows slightly. Surprisingly, Gwen had showed up on time. Miracles really did exist.

Murmurs of disappointment and cheers of satisfaction rippled through the dancers in the room as they dispersed one by one, either wearing an expression of genuine excitement or a mask of disguised regret that they hadn’t tried harder or trained longer.

You pushed your way to the front, your eyes immediately darting to the name next to Odette. Your heart sank as you traced over the curly loops and sharper lines of the handwritten letters.

White Swan/Princess Odette : Patricia Roberts.

Pat…?

Sure, she was good, but she was always a little bit too fast for the pieces. She was brilliant at lightning-quick steps in speedy variations, but couldn’t ‘dance like a flowy fairy’, as your ballet teacher said, to save her life.

And the White Swan was all about being slow and sad and graceful.

Your eyes travelled further down the list, going through the roles of Odile, the cygnets, the general swans, and the royals. Each time, you were disappointed. By the time you reached the end of the list, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit anxious. Your name just… wasn’t there.

You were a part of this, right?

The entire class was taking part in this production. It wouldn’t make any sense for you to not be there. Even if it was just as a regular background swan.

“Can’t find your name either, huh?”

You hadn’t noticed that everyone else had broken off into excitedly chattering groups to start warming up and take their places at the barre, leaving only you and Gwen standing and craning your necks up at the piece of paper that seemed to decide your fate in the studio for the next few months.

You shook your head no, earning a sigh from Gwen that lasted longer than it probably should have.

“Well, we could ask Miss Walker, but she’s not here yet. So…” She shifted awkwardly beside you. You tried to observe her from your peripheral vision without being too obvious. She sounded… tired. Exhausted, really, like she hadn’t slept in a few days and then had to run a marathon around the city. She had done a pretty shoddy job of concealing the heavy dark circles under her eyes — which truly was saying something, because her makeup was usually immaculate.

Fuck. You couldn’t believe it, but for a moment you almost felt sorry for her. Well, maybe not just almost.

“Hey, uh… you good?” You winced at your attempt at a nonchalant tone. Gwen turned to look at you like you had sprouted a third head, slight confusion reflecting in her eyes.

You had never noticed them before, but she had nice eyes, honestly. The expressive kind that could show every little shift in her emotions if she didn’t hide it. And right now she looked like she was about to grin or crack a joke, so you fixed a scowl on your face to ward off any amusing thing she might have been gearing up to say.

The smile in her eyes faded.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Time to poke the bee’s nest. “You don’t sound—”

You were cut off as the studio doors flew open, and Miss Walker, looking extremely hassled, practically sprinted in. Random strands of hair poked out of her unusually-untidy bun, and her glasses were perched precariously on the tip of her nose. She held her phone in one hand and a clipboard in the other.

“Class, pointes on and everyone to the barre right now, please! Finish your second warmup, I’ll be right with you. Gwendolyn, Y/N, may I have a word with the two of you?”

We’re in trouble, mouthed Gwen with a comically scared, wide-eyed, completely exaggerated expression that was very childish and definitely should not have made you want to laugh. You bit the inside of your cheek to clamp down on your smile.

Your ballet teacher led you both over to a corner of the studio, adjusting her glasses right as they were about to fall off. “Okay, so I have some very good news for both of you. You might have noticed that your names weren’t on the final cast list at all, correct?”

You both nodded.

“As it turns out, you’ve been selected by the School of American Ballet to feature in New York City Ballet’s version of Swan Lake! And not selected for just any role — you girls are playing both Swans!”

The words took a few seconds to register in your mind. The sheer improbability of it all was phenomenal — two mere teenagers chosen to perform by the most prestigious ballet company in the world, to dance alongside some of the best professional ballerinas-in-the-making? This was a dream come true; was any of this real?

“You’re joking,” you heard Gwen say beside you. You felt like you were about to lift off and float all the way to the sky when your teacher just gave a broad, proud smile.

Everything after that was surrounded by a hazy glow of euphoric shock — blurred by excitement and lightheadedness and disbelief. You might’ve blacked out at one point, bracing yourself against the wall while you waited for your vision to clear.

Gwen suddenly narrowed her eyes in a wince, squinting as if she had a headache. “I’m so sorry, I have to go,” She mumbled hastily, before grabbing her bag and slipping out of the studio. And just like that, she was gone. Again.

You and Miss Walker exchanged a look of slight confusion, but she shrugged. “Well, you’re dismissed for today, Y/N. They’re expecting you tomorrow. You know where the company is, right?”

“Yes, miss.” Of course you did, which ballerina didn’t? Of all the best aspiring ballet dancers’ dream companies, New York City Ballet was right up there with The Royal Ballet in London, Paris Opera Ballet in France, and the Australian Ballet in Melbourne. In other words: this was a giant fucking deal and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

You’d have to be beyond idiotic to blow it off.

You arrived at Lincoln Center (which housed the New York City Ballet), fresh-faced and a few minutes early. Well, maybe not so fresh-faced, since you could barely sleep because of nerves. Throughout the night, what felt like a million thoughts that were all variations of what if I’m not good enough? and maybe I’m not cut out for this plagued you well into the early hours of the morning.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see Gwen, looking annoyingly (and most probably effortlessly) put-together and honestly quite fashionable. Did she have to have such perfect eyeliner? Even her hair tips seemed pinker than usual.

“Wow, you’re early for once,” You tried to load snark into your tone but failed miserably, earning you an insufferably relaxed chuckle from Gwen.

You shook your head and focused on trying to find the ballet company’s actual studio. Lincoln Center was comprised of a complex of buildings in a giant neighbourhood that you had never been in before, and the David H. Koch Theater which housed the New York City Ballet was just one of those many buildings spread over 16.3 acres.

You were lucky you two had arrived early, because it took you ten whole minutes trying to find the theater - because, as it turns out, you and Gwen had entered from a separate entrance from the main one. Finally you entered the studio, and for a while the only sounds were that of your shoes squeaking on the shiny wooden floors.

Something that struck you was just how big everything about it was.

The light fixtures that lined the walls cast yellow light all along the hallway, illuminating everything with a soft glow the colour of honeyed amber. Just walking that corridor made you feel like you were approaching a royal ballroom, floating around in a gown that could put Kitri’s costume from Don Quixote to shame.

You finally saw the door to the studio. Someone was waiting outside — a man in an all-black suit with close-cropped black hair and a salt-and-pepper beard. His face broke into a smile as he saw you and Gwen, and without waiting for you to fully make it to the door, he strode forward and clasped your hand.

“Welcome to New York City Ballet! I’m Carlos, the resident choreographer of this company. We’ve been expecting you! Your teacher has informed you of the production we are working on, yes?” He rattled all of this off at full speed in clipped, staccato pronunciations, so fast that it took you a second to register what he was saying.

“Swan Lake, right?” Gwen answered for you.

“Yes, yes. I assume you both know the combinations for both swans?” You nodded maybe a little too eagerly, eliciting a subtle eyebrow-raise from Carlos. “Very good. Come, I will introduce you to Shaoni. She is our support staff, and a former ballet mistress. She taught many young dancers who went on to become famous prima ballerinas. Don’t take her words too seriously; her bark is worse than her bite.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile and pushed open the double doors. Immediately the first thing you saw was a woman wearing a blue kurta with a gold-trimmed dupatta, her dark hair pinned into a bun at the nape of her neck. The thing that stood out most about her was her highly displeased scowl that had her looking like someone had insulted her entire bloodline three times over, spat in her face and then wrecked her favourite tutu.

Forget a simple resting bitch face, this was a prime, next-level display of an I’m-done-with-this-shit-and-I-need-a-vacation expression.

“Good morning, girls. My name is Shaoni Lahiri, you will address me as Miss Lahiri. You’re a bit early; please begin your warmup while we wait for the others. Also, our artistic director wanted to talk to you about your first day, so once he arrives meet him in his office.” Miss Lahiri had just finished her introductory monologue when her phone buzzed in her pocket with a notification.

Her eyes swiped over the lockscreen for a brief second before she tucked it away again, and you could’ve sworn you saw her roll her eyes slightly when she saw the name of the messager. “Mr. Osborn will see you now. The door to his office is in the far left corner of the studio. Try not to get lost, will you?” Even her sarcasm sounded effortlessly annoyed beyond relief.

And just like that, she abandoned you and went over to compare choreography notes with Carlos.

You turned and followed her directions, noticing a polished wooden door near the end wall of the studio. “Hey, wait for me!” Gwen had been busy gawking at the studio and, really, you couldn’t quite blame her. It truly was something else compared to the much smaller one you were used to.

You knocked once and pushed open the door once you heard a voice call out, “Come in!”

The moment the door swung open, you were immediately blinded by the brightest white light you had ever seen. The entire office looked like it had been bleached to within an inch of its life; there were no specks of dust to be seen and everything was neatly arranged in cupboards and on shelves.

“Oh, hello there!” Once your eyes had readjusted, you noticed a man with greying red-brown hair in a crisp suit with a green pinstripe jacket, an orange vest, and black pants. He sat with his hands clasped neatly on the lacquered teakwood desk in front of him, wearing a polite smile.

“You must be the new arrivals, yes? Let’s see, what are your names…” He opened a folder that had been pushed to one side of the desk, flicking through pages. “Gwen Stacy and Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yes, that’s us,” You answered quickly, feeling slightly giddy with excitement as the truth sunk in properly. This wasn’t a dream, you had really been selected by the fucking New York City Ballet. You would be working alongside some of the best ballet dancers in the area. Better yet, you had more than a fair chance at dancing Odette. Of course, so did Gwen, but you were obviously the better choice… it wasn’t personal, really, just that she barely attended a full class and therefore should probably dance Odile instead.

“Excellent, excellent. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Norman Osborn, the artistic director of this company.” He stood up and shook your hand. He smiled at Gwen, but instead of smiling back, she just dropped her gaze, inhaling sharply as if she had been stung.

“Something’s not right with him,” She murmured to you the moment Mr. Osborn turned his back to retrieve a folder from his filing cabinet. “I can’t explain it, just… please trust me. I think he’s going to be a threat to us.”

You felt annoyance flare up inside you, white-hot maelstroms of anger expanding by the second. “Please excuse us, Mr. Osborn. Gwen and I need to discuss something.” You tried to sound as inconspicuous and well-mannered as you could. You grabbed Gwen’s shoulder and pulled her through the door, closing it behind you.

“Listen here,” You hissed, letting go of her. “I didn’t make it all this way and train for an extra four hours a day for three years just so you could blow this off. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re some sort of a package deal. So don’t you dare make up stuff and tell me this perfectly polite man is a threat. Is this some sort of scheme? You make me get cold feet, pretend like you’re dropping out, then when you convince me to leave the company you swoop in and snatch up the role of Odette? Is that what you’re playing at?”

Gwen stared at you in utter disbelief, rubbing her shoulder where your grip had tightened just a little too much. “What? No, of course not. I would never—”

“Okay, good. Now let’s get back in there and do whatever the hell he wants us to do, because this is the New York City Ballet and we are not leaving till we’re done with this production, got it?”

For a split second, intense desperation marred her features and she looked like she was about to cry. Then, just as quickly as it had come, all the vulnerability displayed on her face disappeared — but not from her eyes. Her mouth and eyebrows were relaxed, cool, but her eyes shone with a feverish light that made her look a bit manic. Finally she took a deep breath and glared levelly at you.

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Something about her tone would have sent a shiver down your spine if you hadn’t been so pumped up about this whole ordeal. You dismissed it easily, penning it, possibly, as the sullen disappointment of a plotter whose evil scheme hadn’t gone quite according to plan.

You entered the office again, Gwen trailing behind you reluctantly, and gave Mr. Osborn a big smile. “You were saying?”

He passed you and Gwen two sheets of paper and a pen. “Sign this. It’s a contract that officialises your stay at this company for the duration of this production.”

You signed it eagerly. Gwen, who was studying the words intently, noticed your impatience and signed it too.

“Perfect,” said Norman Osborn, giving you a big smile. Was it just you, or did it look more plastic this time…?

Nope, definitely just you. He carefully filed the sheets away and clasped your hand in a handshake once again. “Welcome to New York City Ballet. I’m sure this contract will prove to be beneficial to the both of us.”

Gwen dropped her eyes to the floor. Probably just her odd headaches acting up again.

Taglist:

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 @theprismyyy

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keirawantstocry · 2 months

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Hi hi, tis I, 💋anon, yet again back with another Thought. Your writing continues to be Fantastic AHHHHH. All the kisses for you.

I have no real premise for this other than p l e a s e but- someone mentioned when fit and pac were Cricling Tubbo and complimenting him. And then The Suit happened and I just- if they reacted that way to him changing a Shirt what would they do seeing him in a Suit (either the black or white one they were both Good mans is too attractive). Did they get him in the suit? did one of them? did someone else??? is there an event???

Hope you're having a good day (that you get un-sick soon, sounds like it fuckin sucks) :>

still sick but im chugging vitamin water and gatorade like its nobodys business :) also i have history in a fandom with 1800's and 1900's fashion so i leaned a bit into my past with TLH to come up with this outfit idea. i doubt many mcyters know it but google matthew fairchild and thats the inspo for the outfit!

Tubbo felt out of place to say the least. He wouldn't go as far to say he was uncomfortable but the suit on his body felt strange. It was the women’s idea. Niki was the one who decided to host the get-together, Bagi and Tina the ones who decided everyone had to dress up. The children loved the idea, absolutely loved it. Tubbo spent an hour with Sunny dressing her in the finest dress he could possibly get for her. She was a sight. Dressed in a beautiful moss green dress with golden detailing. Her hair was piled on top of her head with lovely golden flowers threading through her curls. “You look beautiful, poppet.”

Sunny grinned at him before grabbing at his hands. She dragged him over to his closet and started digging through the suits.

“Oh no, princess. I don’t want to wear something complicated.”

She gave him a look that warranted absolutely no arguing and now here he was, dressed up. The undershirt was crisp white and the waistcoat on top a deep swirling green that matched Sunny’s dress, a simple black jacket topping it all. She had insisted. He would do anything for his princess and she damn well knew it.

The party was beautiful. Fairy lights strung up all over the walls with tables of food in every corner of the large room. Mouse greeted them when they walked in. “Tubbo! Sunny! Hey, guys.”

“Hey, Mouse,” Tubbo greeted back as Sunny waved happily.

“Awww,” came Niki’s voice from behind them. “Sunny, you look absolutely gorgeous.”

“Thank you!” she signed.

Tubbo felt a strange type of pressure on him all of a sudden, like someone was watching him very closely. Peering around the room at all the guests he tried to figure out who it was. His answer came only a moment later as he saw Pac and Fit making a beeline for him.

“Oi!” Pac said cheerily, his eyes glued on Tubbo’s suit.

Tubbo had to resist the urge to squirm. “Hey, Pac.”

Fit was utterly silent, eyeing him up and down as Pac smiled at Sunny. “Oi, Sunny, there’s uh a chocolate fountain over there.” He looked up pointedly at Niki who’s eyebrows shot up. “Niki, why don’t you show her the fountain?”

Niki and Mouse quickly glanced between the three of them before at each other with knowing expressions. “Yeah, of course,” Mouse said, taking one of Sunny’s hands as Niki took the other. “Let’s get you some sweets, princess.”

Tubbo rubbed his thumb repeatedly into the palm of his other hand in a nervous stim as he looked at the both of them. “Um, what’s up guys?”

Neither of them were looking him in the eyes and every place their eyes dipped to felt like it was on fire. “You look really good,” Fit said in a low voice, finally looking him in the eye. His eyes were dark. “Really good.”

Tubbo flushed. “Uh, thanks?”

Pac nodded and nodded, absentmindedly before he took a step forward and grabbed Tubbo by the waist, running his hands over the expensive material of the waistcoat. His eyes got even wider as soon as he got his hands on the other man and Tubbo had to admit something in his chest was very pleased about this whole interaction. “So good,” he said softly. Pac's eyes were giving the impression he wanted to eat him alive and it made Tubbo shudder, suddenly feeling very warm in the suit. “You should uh come home with us later yeah?”

Tubbo stared at him, jaw agape. “Uh, uh.” He glanced quickly over at Fit who was still blatantly checking him out. “Yeah? Yeah um sure.”

“Good,” Pac said smoothly, running his hands down his sides once before finally pulling them away. He winked. “Meet us after the party.”

#qsmp #my writing #fanfiction #poly morning crew #q!tubbo #q!fit #q!pac #q!niki #qsmp sunny #q!mouse #fitpacbo #qsmp morning crew

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curiousquirks · 5 months

Text

Day 9 | Endeavor x F!Reader (18+)

Mirrors | Prostitution

Content Warnings: Prostitution, Love Hotels, AFAB Reader, Female Dialogue Used, Oral (Male Receiving), Hand Jobs, Dom!Reader, Submissive Enji, Dirty Talk, Degradation

Word Count: 2,175

Summary:

Something about you, specifically, made things much easier for him. You listened well, you behaved well, and he knew you took him well. You couldn’t complain either, especially with how much Mr. Number 1 was paying you. The longer it went on, the more interesting it had gotten. He started giving you gifts, pieces he wanted you to wear and put on before he showed up. Then he started asking for photos of you wearing it when you two weren’t meeting up. You’d take mirror selfies for him, sending them away with erotic promises. You quickly became his favorite.

Love hotels weren’t exactly Enji’s favorite, they just made it easier. It was more practical. Plus Pro-Heroes and celebrities knew all the more exclusive ones that hide the patrons identity thoroughly. He had enough heat and pressure on him as it was, this didn’t need to add to the list. Scheduling sex was a different level of humiliation but he had found rhythm in it. Having clear specifications that the women were to follow made it easy. He didn’t have the time to waste.

You were wearing one now, a little detail he had wanted prior to your meeting today. It was a forest green velvet slip dress, lovingly requested to be worn with nothing beneath it. You checked yourself in the mirror in the bathroom when you heard the door to the room open. You quickly made your way out the bathroom, swallowing a laugh as you looked at the confused look on his face. He closed the door behind him as he glanced around the room taking in the confusing decor.

“The more toned down rooms were already booked. Probably some event or meeting nearby for you guys.” You said, gesturing towards him to signal that you meant Pro-Heroes.

He just looked annoyed now, his eyes lingering on the statue of a unicorn in the corner of the room. The room was decorated to look like a moonlight grove, complete with overgrown grass and fake tree decals on the wall. The only thing that didn’t fit in the room’s decor, except the vines draped over it, was a large mirror propped up facing the bed. Bed was subjective, it was an elevated cushion covered in fake moss.

“I’m going to start booking a normal place if this keeps up.” He complained, starting to remove his shirt.

“I think it’s cute,” You said, twirling around the room before plopping yourself down the bed. “Besides, I match the colors. I think you’re just trying to cover up that you actually picked this room because you’re embarrassed.”

He grunted in response, tossing his shirt to the side. Any complaints he was going to voice were left unsaid as his eyes raked over your body. The twinkling fairy lights give your body a beautiful glow as the dress clung to you in all the right ways. You let your hand drop lower and trace along your skin as you slowly moved your leg to the side, nearly exposing yourself to him. You let your hand trace up your body until it reaches the strap to your dress.

Enji puts a hand up momentarily causing you to pause in your movement. “Don’t remove it, I want you to wear it.” He instructed, as he moved down to unbuckle his belt. His cock was already hard and painfully constricted.

You bit your lip as you leaned back on your hands, watching him intently as he removed the rest of his clothing. There was nothing small about him and it had you soaked just thinking about getting to ride him. You wiggled in place, the uncomfortable wetness threatening to start dripping from your folds onto the bed beneath you. He wasted no time as he made his way towards the bed but you held your hand up.

“Ah, ah, ah, hang on a second.” You interrupted, causing him to stop in his tracks. “Don’t rush into anything before we settle the payment.”

“I already sent it before I came into the room.” He informed you, as he continued moving towards you.

He bent down, hovering above you. Just as he was about to put his arm on the bed next to you and lay you down, you slipped out from underneath his arm as you quickly moved yourself onto the other side of the room. You grabbed your phone, swiping a few times as you scanned through and checked to test the integrity of his words. He sighed and sat himself on the bed, glancing over and noticing the mirror positioned near him.

Your eyes widened when you saw that he gave you significantly more than you two talked about. You stared at your phone for a moment, blinking in surprise. You slowly put your phone down and turned on your heels. The surprise quickly wiped from your expression so he couldn’t see it. You sauntered your way over to him, placing both of your hands on his legs as you crouched right in front of him. You looked up at him, his irritation and annoyance plain on his face.

“I had to make sure, this is a business exchange after all.” You teased, leaning forward to place a kiss onto the tip of his throbbing cock. “I see you gave me some extra.”

“I pay based on quality.” He replied simply.

He gave a groan as your lips wrapped around him, taking in as much of him as you could. You gagged slightly just from the sheer mass of his cock, giving a moan as you heard him whisper praise above you. Your hand wrapped around the bottom of his cock to stroke as you bobbed your head.

“Fuck…” He groaned, letting his eyes fall close as he drank in the pleasure.

You pulled off of him with an audible pop, swiping your tongue over his tip. You grinned as you felt him twitch, still giving him a steady rhythm with your hand stroking his cock. You looked up at him, noting his eyes being closed.

“Since you were so generous with your payment,” You began as you let him go before you stood up, moving yourself to straddle his lap. “Why don’t we use this mirror? I moved it towards the bed.” You explained, turning your head to gesture towards it. His hands immediately found your hips, his cock pressing into your stomach as you leaned forward. Your breasts pressed into his chest, his hands sliding down to grab onto your ass. “I think it’ll be fun.”

“How so?” He asked, his skin felt incredibly warm even through the thin fabric of your dress.

“I’ll show you but you have to let me go first.” You joked, turning your head back towards him. You placed your hands onto his shoulders as you let your lips linger inches from his.

His eyes fell to your lips, staring for too long. You felt his cock twitch against you again before his hands let go of you finally. You brought your hands up to cup his face as you pressed a quick chaste kiss to his lips. “Good boy.” You praised as you got off of his lap in one swift motion.

He swallowed hard at the comment but before he got too lost in his own head you had tapped your foot against his leg to signal him to scoot over. He was now perfectly positioned in front of the mirror. You moved yourself to hover over his lap backwards, facing the mirror against the wall in front of you. You locked eyes with him in the mirror as you brought two of your fingers to your mouth. You sucked on them, coating them in your saliva before bringing them down to rub against your folds.

You moaned and used your other hand to hike up the fabric up of your dress. You could feel his impatience. Moving your foot to rest onto his leg, allowing you to spread your legs wide, allowing your aching pussy to be on display for him. His eyes left yours as you watched his hands reach up and rest on your waist, keeping you steady. You bit your bottom lip, watching as his eyes intently watched your fingers swirl around your clit.

“Like what you see, big guy?” You teased, which caused his eyes to peel away from between your legs to meet your gaze again. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone quiet now.”

“You’re killing me,” He said, after a long pause. “Every time you force me to wait instead of doing what I actually want to do.”

“That’s what you pay me for though isn’t it?” You reminded him. You let your leg drop off of his, his hands falling from your waist as you stood straight. “You want a woman in control of you. To tease you and set the pace of things.”

He let his head hang low, dropping his eyes to the ground. You moved yourself swiftly onto the bed behind him, pressing yourself against his back. You rested your chin onto his shoulder, looking at him in the mirror. His cock stood proud, pre-cum glistening at the tip, with balls that looked ready to burst. You almost pitied him. You clicked your tongue and moved your mouth next to his ear, your hot breath causing a shiver to run down his spine.

“Look up.” You commanded, and he did. His eyes met yours, wanting desire written plainly across his face. “Do you want to come?”

Your question caused his cock to twitch, he didn’t know how much longer he could take. He didn’t answer, just nodded his head. You lifted the hand you have been using to please yourself earlier and spat some saliva onto it. You reached around and wrapped that same hand around his cock, a shuttered gasp releasing from his lips. You began stroking his cock, in all the ways you’ve learned that caused him to lose himself. You grinned at him, your devilish mischief and skilled hand ripping a groan from deep within him.

His eyes nearly drifted closed when your voice caused them to pop back open. “Eyes on what I’m doing.” You commanded, the pressure you were focusing on his tip was causing his head to spin. He struggled to keep his eyes on your hand, focusing on the rhythmic stroking motion. His body heat was rising, causing a layer of sweat to form on your body. “Are you close? Do you want to come? I want to hear you ask me. Beg for release, beg for me to drain your cock. Letting your cum drip all over the floor instead of inside of my pussy.”

You heard him let out a muffled whimper as his hands gripped into the fabric beneath him, nearly burning through it. He grunted as you quickened your pace as his hips started thrusting up into your hand. “I bet you wish you could pump it deep instead of me. Slamming your hips against mine, your large frame dominating over me.” You practically moaned your words, watching his flushed face struggle to stay alert. “But it isn’t though is it? Your just sitting here fucking my hand because I’m in control. I tell you when to come, that’s why you haven’t. You’re struggling to hold on, aren’t you?”

“P-Please…” He whispered, panting as his muscles tensed up. Desperately holding onto any shred of his sanity.

“What was that, Enji?” You teased, malicious enjoyment lacing every syllable.

“Let me come.” He forced out in between grunts. “Fuck, please…I need it, I need it.”

You waited another few agonizing seconds before you finally whispered. “Then come.”

With the permission he needed, he thrusted up roughly as his orgasm released. His hot cum shot out, spurts after spurts coating the floor and your hand. You continued stroking him, milking his cock for all its worth as his hips finally stopped with a shuttered. He panted, heat waves coming off of his body as sweat collected across his skin. You backed away from him, giving some room so you could cool off. You laid yourself against the head of the bed, reaching your hand up towards your face.

He turned towards you in time to see your tongue dart out to lick the cum off of your hand. His eyes never left your mouth as you thoroughly cleaned every drop off of your skin. You made a show of sucking on your fingers too, watching as his cock started standing at attention quickly again.

“I love how quickly you spring back,” You said, spreading your legs. You moved the dress up, exposing your pussy to him again. Your hand dropped to run through your folds. “We’ve still got plenty of time left and don’t worry, I plan on letting that huge cock of yours completely destroy me. I need some more prep though, so come here and let me fuck your hand this time.” And without another word he came crawling towards you.

#endeavor x reader #enji todoroki x reader #bnha smut #kinktober 2023 #curiouskinks 2023 #bnha fanfiction #endeavor #enji todoroki

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