#⭑ — dee’s writing
Text
double shift
— kento nanami x f!reader
summary: Kento Nanami hates overtime, but who is he to say no when his boss asks him to go check on his wife while he's out of town?
word count: 4.2k
content: NSFW, 18+, smut, infidelity, heavy lactation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms, degradation, dirty talk, squirting, breeding kink, restraints, counter sex, wet & messy
Kento’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he stares at his phone nestled in the cupholder, limbs taut with aggravation as the bored voice of his boss continues on, “She hasn’t been answering my calls all day, and I’m not flying back for another week yet. I know you’re probably about to leave the office, but I’m going to need you to stop at my house and check on her first, Nanami.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, the words ‘OVERTIME’ flashing red behind his eyes and drawing forth a fresh surge of anger that has him contemplating the consequences of smashing his phone on the pavement outside and finding a new job entirely.
Today has been shit.
Capital S, Shit.
His asshole boss has been out of town for nearly a week already, every client is somehow ten times more unbearable than usual, the incompetence across the office has become a goddamn disease, and he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that that piece of shit is doing anything but keeping his dick in his pants while his wife and their new baby are left home alone.
His very attractive, very lovely wife who probably has no idea what a waste of oxygen her husband is.
You’re too fucking good for him.
And you’re also too good for Kento, who’s spent more nights than he’d care to admit furiously fisting his cock to the memory of whatever tantalizing outfit you’d turned up at the office wearing that day.
And seeing you pregnant?
While the knowledge that you were now entirely stuck with that undeserving asshole sent his blood boiling, Kento could hardly complain about the sight of you during those months, his shaft straining painfully in his slacks every time he laid eyes upon your gloriously swollen, heavy breasts.
And the cum he splattered all over the mirror and sink after inevitably rushing out of his office when you finally left? Well, that was between him and the four walls of the men’s bathroom.
So after the awful day he’s already had, Kento’s not sure he can imagine a worse type of overtime than waltzing into your house and playing the part of a dutiful employee checking in on his boss’s wife, acting like he doesn’t want to fuck you so bad it’s driving him up a goddamn wall.
But he’ll fucking do it.
Of course he will.
“Sure,” he replies tersely, before hanging up and peeling out of the parking lot.
᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
She’s finally asleep.
Sighing weakly in relief, you close the door to your daughter’s bedroom and shuffle down the hallway. You make it all the way to the kitchen before you’re forced to lean heavily against the countertop, gritting your teeth as another wave of discomfort radiates from your sore, swollen breasts.
“Hello?” a familiar, male voice tentatively calls out in a hushed tone.
You whip around, still clutching the counter for support, eyes widening at the side of Kento Nanami standing in the doorway to your kitchen.
“Hi?” you respond, your heart doing a somersault as you drink in the sight of his tall, muscled form.
He twirls a key around his finger twice before catching it in the palm of his hand and stuffing it in his pocket. “I apologize for barging in, but your spare key hiding spot is shit, and I didn’t want to ring the doorbell and wake the baby.”
“It’s okay, Nanami,” you assure him, the erratic thrumming in your chest far from a feeling of fear.
For whatever reason, he appears to be attempting to avert his eyes after glancing over at you quickly, roughly running a hand through his hair. “Your husband asked me to check on you. He said he hasn’t heard from you all day,” he explains carefully.
“Well, I figured it would be rude to interrupt the wild orgies he pays for with the company credit card,” you deadpan.
Nanami’s jaw ticks, “He—”
“I’m well aware of what he does.”
“Then why—”
“Because I realized too late, and I’m too tired to do anything about it right now,” you sigh, wincing at the continuous ache of your breasts.
And it’s then that you realize why Nanami’s been looking anywhere but at you directly.
You’re wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and knee-high socks, which in and of itself isn’t overtly reprehensible, given that you’re in your own house, you have a four-month-old child, and you can’t remember the last time you got a full night’s rest. The issue is that your breasts are so sore and tender right now, you haven’t been able to even look at a bra in days.
Which, once again, wouldn’t be an issue alone in the privacy of your home…when one of your husband’s employees isn’t desperately trying not to acknowledge the fact that two large wet spots have soaked through your shirt.
“I should…” you trail off awkwardly, glancing around the room in hopes that you left one of your flannel over shirts lying within reach.
“It’s fine,” Nanami blurts out, scratching the back of his head and studiously feigning interest in the collection of party invites and shopping lists stuck to the side of your fridge.
᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
It’s not fine.
It’s anything but fine.
It’s a complete fucking disaster.
Kento hasn’t seen you since you gave birth. And despite how exhausted he knows you are—he can see it in the bags under your eyes and the limpness of your posture— your soft pregnancy glow has transformed into a postpartum radiance that has his breath catching in his throat each time his eyes sweep over you.
You’re fucking stunning.
And somehow, he knows your husband hasn’t noticed this. Hasn’t told you how incredible you are, how fantastic motherhood looks on you. It sends a fresh wave of anger coursing through him, the mere thought that he could bear to let himself stray from you—especially now, at such a vulnerable time.
But any hopes Kento had of trying not to commit this sight of you to memory were swiftly dashed the moment he noticed the wet spots on your shirt.
Even now, when he’s looking at a box of cereal on the counter as if it’s the most interesting thing in the entire world, every layer of his inner psyche is rapidly overheating at the thought of your heavy, swollen breasts. The milk leaking from them, soaking through your clothes and inevitably trailing down your stomach.
He needs to fucking leave. Now.
“I should go—“
“—do you want some tea?”
You both speak at the same time, and when Kento turns to face you again, you’ve slipped a blue flannel shirt on, buttoning it up partway. As if his traitorous cock will somehow forget what he now knows is obscured underneath the added layer of material. But despite the growing discomfort swelling and throbbing against the zipper of his pants, he concedes, his need to quell the apparent loneliness in your eyes with a moment of company winning out over his lust-addled desire to disappear to the nearest private place to jerk off.
He’s thankful to sit after you pour him a cup, hiding any and all evidence of what a terrible man he is beneath the table, one leg idly bouncing as he wills his hard on to go down. It’s a big ask, though, given that you’re probably not even aware of what you’re doing to him when you lean your body over the kitchen island with your mug clutched between your fingers as you idly chat with him, your oversized shirt just barely masking the flash of pink panties it reveals beneath each time your shoulders bounce as you laugh.
He’s two seconds from excusing himself to put his fucking dick in the freezer.
His chair scrapes against the tile floor as he pushes it back, having decided he’s at his limit, but he pauses when a pained sound escapes your lips.
“Are you alright?” he asks, hurrying over to where you’re now pressing your forehead against the island countertop, whimpering softly. His hand hovers for a moment before he opts to gently touch your shoulder, just to let you know he’s there.
Your fingers scrape over the marble as you breathe out in a quiet voice, “No.”
As if on instinct, Kento begins to rub small, comforting circles into your upper back, his tentative touches growing more confident when he feels your tense body behind to relax slightly.
“What’s wrong? What can I do?”
You whine again, standing up straighter but keeping your back to him as you clutch at your chest. “They…they hurt so bad.”
Kento’s halfway certain his soul has left his body as he watches, stunned, while you slide your hands up under your shirt and squeeze at your breasts, exhaling a chorus of breathy little sounds like the fucked up cherry on top.
“Do you need to…” he trails off, and though you can’t see from where he’s standing behind you, he vaguely gestures in the general direction where he can only surmise the baby’s room is.
“It’s…they’re clogged,” you whisper, elbows lifting up and revealing the small of your back as you begin to knead your tits desperately. “They’ve been so sore and swollen for days.”
Kento bites his lower lip, mentally steadying himself for a moment before he asks, “Tell me how I can help.”
“Can you grab a clean washcloth out of the drawer next to the sink and soak it in hot water?”
He swiftly complies with your request, returning moments later after wringing out the small towel and waiting for it to cool down slightly. You’re still using the counter to steady yourself, so he approaches you from behind and goes to hand you the washcloth, only to find his hand immediately pinned between your own and one of your breasts.
You let out a whimpering cry of relief, and it takes everything in him not to let out the noise rumbling in his own throat as you squeeze his hand over your tit.
“I’m sorry,” you whimper. “It just feels so…”
“It’s okay,” Kento murmurs. “Relax.”
Internally, every single warning bell inside of his head is blaring indignantly over the fact that he’s got his hand under his boss’s wife’s shirt, and he’s massaging her lactating breasts with a hot towel while she whimpers and presses into his touch.
But your fingers are laced with his, and you’re not telling him to stop.
In fact, you’re begging him to keep going, keeping a hold of his left hand when he switches the towel to his right, urging him to massage both of your tits at the same time. And who is he to tell you no?
Kento’s fairly certain his balls are going to be aching for days when he feels the warm liquid that begins to coat his fingers.
Fucking fuck.
What the fuck is he doing?
Then your back arches as you outright moan when he brazenly toys with both of your nipples at the same time, milk squirting out, your ass pressing directly into his throbbing erection.
And fuck it, fuck dignity, because Kento’s on the verge of coming in his pants.
But then you spin around to face him, your back pressed into the island as you gaze at him shyly and say, “I…I think I need more.”
Your eyes flick from his mouth back down to your breasts, and he cups the side of your face as he asks, “Are you sure?”
You nod, slipping your shirt off entirely and tossing it aside, and Kento’s mouth goes dry as he stares at the trails of milk leaking from your tits, wondering how he’d ever thought to call today ‘Shitty’.
He motions toward the counter, his large hands grasping your waist to help you get seated up on top of it, fingertips hesitant to pull away from your lacy panties when he spies the wet spot over your cunt.
Kento has never thought of himself as a greedy man. Far from it, actually.
But the moment his mouth latches onto one of your hot, swollen breasts, pulling a shameless moan from your pretty lips as your thighs wrap around him, the sweet taste of your milk hitting his tongue, he feels fucking insatiable.
His mind is a buzz of static as he drinks from your tits, all the blood in his body rushing to his cock, precum soaking through his boxers and slacks. Your fingers tangle in his hair, the heel of your foot pressing into his back and pulling him closer, and he groans, one hand grasping your upper thigh as he teases your nipples between his teeth and squeezes a spray of liquid onto his gluttonous tongue.
“Feels so good, Nanami,” you whine, fingertips sliding down the front of his dress shirt, catching on each button.
“Kento,” he exhales, licking up the milk dripping down your chest.
“Kento,” you moan, tugging hard on the tousled blond strands that have fallen onto his forehead.
And at the sound of your breathy, wrecked tone moaning out his name for the first time, every nerve ending in Kento’s body goes up in flames.
᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
Nothing has ever felt this good.
Nothing.
Kento Nanami’s sinful mouth is latched onto your heavy, engorged tits, greedily drinking every spurt of breast milk that comes leaking out of you, the flow growing steadier with each lap and squeeze.
He has no fucking clue that most of your impromptu visits to the office are actually to see him. To talk to him, if only for a few moments. Kento Nanami, who has always treated you with unfailing kindness under his sometimes brash exterior. Who extends more patience toward you than all of his coworkers combined.
He has no idea how trapped you feel in your marriage, how often you’ve longed for the bland touch of your husband in bed to be his.
He doesn’t know how many times you’ve brought yourself over the edge with your fingers with his face lingering in your mind, the rough, teasing sound of words you’ve imagined in his voice playing out in your head like the most sinful soundtrack you’ve ever heard.
And now he’s grunting and moaning as he makes a mess of both of you, his lips and chin gleaming with the same wet, sticky milk that’s all over your chest and thighs and his hands and pooling on the countertop beneath you.
It’s filthy.
It’s so fucking filthy.
And maybe it’s wrong.
But you’re so desperate for him. For this. You need more. You need it so badly, you can hardly breathe. Searing desire is coiled so tightly in your abdomen, you’re trembling with restraint, aching with the desire to beg him to fuck you. You know he wants it, too, though. It’s hard to miss the thick, mouth-watering outline of his cock straining against his pants, like a beacon waiting to fulfill your darkest desires.
It’s a line you know he won’t cross unless you ask for it.
“Kento,” you murmur again, pulling his face up to meet yours.
“Mmm?” he asks, pupils blown wide with lust, and you can tell he’s slightly dazed, drunk off of the taste of the milk leaking from your tits.
You lean closer, letting your lips hover over his, Kento’s breath mingling with your own as you whisper, “Please touch me.”
He gently pushes your thighs further apart, carefully running a finger over the front of your panties. His voice is a rough, gravelly sound as he asks, “Here?”
A thrill shoots up your spine at the feather-light touch. “Yes.”
“More?” he questions, his lips brushing against your mouth as he hooks a finger in your underwear and pulls them aside.
“More,” you keen, bucking into him as his knuckles graze your clit.
He slides a finger through your folds, visibility shuddering as he comments, “You’re so fucking wet.”
“For you,” you pant, trying to resist the urge to shamelessly start riding his hand.
Kento’s mouth engulfs yours in a rough, hungry kiss at the same moment he slides a thick digit into your cunt, and he swallows down the whimpering cry of pleasure that spills out of you. His lips are relentless as they slot against yours, and you arch into him, every part of your body drawn to his blazing touch on your skin.
You can taste the remnants of your breastmilk on Kento’s lips, but you don’t care as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you so deeply it makes your toes curl, one hand cradling the back of your head while he stuffs a second finger into your hole.
And just when you thought you couldn’t get any more sensitive under his touch, he dips his head back down to continue ravishing your forgotten breasts, pumping his soaked fingers in and out of your pussy all the while.
“Kento,” you whimper, chest heaving as you press your heels into the cabinets below, every muscle in your body going taut under the onslaught of arousal coursing through you.
“Can you come for me?” he asks, his gravelly, barely restrained tone searing itself into your mind.
It’s the combination of his thumb massaging circles into your sensitive bundle of nerves and the sight of milk dripping down his chin as he messily drinks from you that sends you tumbling over the edge, the rubber band inside of you snapping like a whip as your orgasm washes over you. There’s an unfamiliar feeling that accompanies it, clear liquid squirting from your cunt and soaking the front of Kento’s dress shirt.
Kento’s eyes darken a fraction as he grasps your chin, thumb pressing into your bottom lip. “Good girl,” he murmurs, kissing you. “Good fucking girl.”
Hand reaching between your bodies, you grasp his cock through his slacks, marveling at how maddeningly thick he feels.
“I want you to fuck me now, Kento,” you tell him in no uncertain terms, rubbing your palm up and down his erection for good measure. “Fuck me like I’m a bad girl.”
Kento growls, hand palming the side of your neck, thumb caressing your collarbones, “You have no fucking clue what you do to me.”
“Show me.”
You’ve hardly had a chance to unbutton his pants before he’s slipping your panties down, stuffing them into his pocket. His hands come up to undo his tie, but rather than tossing the silky material aside, he asks, “Do you trust me?”
You nod in response, and he steps around the island, pulling your hands behind your back and tying your wrists together snugly with the yellow and black material. Anticipation zings through your chest, a fresh wave of arousal dripping from your sensitive cunt.
“Is that too tight?”
You shake your head. “It’s perfect.”
He wastes no time in shedding the rest of his clothes, and you find yourself pressing hard against the restraints once you see his cock in all its glory, thick and flushed and so fucking big that you whimper.
You spread your legs wide for him again as he steps between them, rubbing the leaking head of his cock against your damp slit. He notches it at your entrance, tilting your chin to his mouth and dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”
Kento’s hands grasp your hips as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance, slowly easing into you. He massages your breasts, his hot mouth nipping and lapping a trail from your shoulder to the sensitive spot behind your earlobe while he pushes deeper into your cunt. When he eventually bottoms out, you’re both breathing hard, and his tie is fighting for its life to keep your wrists bound behind you.
“Are you okay?”
You let out a huff of air, your entire body poised to implode with the weight of the lust and pleasure raging inside of you. “Fuck me like you mean it, Kento.”
Whatever thinly veiled restraint was left in him crumbles to dust at your request, and Kento tugs you closer to the edge of the counter as he begins to pound into your cunt at a ruthless pace, splitting you open right in the middle of your kitchen. The cool marble is slick and sticky beneath you, covered in a myriad of filthy fluids that continue to leak out of you.
“So beautiful,” he grunts, punctuating each word with a rough snap of his hips.
“I feel like a whore,” you admit, biting your lower lip, tits bouncing heavily with his punishing thrusts.
A short, dark laugh escapes Kento’s lips, his brows raising. He leans in, stuffing his cock deep into your cunt as he presses his mouth to yours and murmurs, “Well you’re my pretty, filthy whore.”
If your husband talked to you like this, you’d slap him. But from Kento…the liquid heat that churns in your belly is anything but anger.
“Am I?” you ask, trying to sound as innocent as you can when he’s balls deep inside of you.
“Yeah,” he rasps, not missing a beat as he catches on to what you want to hear. He squeezes your tits, milk squirting everywhere. “My dirty slut. You’re such a good girl, making a such a fucking mess. Squirting all over me while your tits leak everywhere.”
You gasp as he leans down, burying his face in your tits, latching on to one of your nipples and drinking deeply from you again. The combined feeling of him sucking on your breasts and the push and drag of his shaft inside of you leaves you cock drunk, begging and babbling senselessly as tears of pleasure prick at the corners of your eyes.
“Wanna put another baby in you, keep these nice and round and full for me,” he grunts, letting milk spray from your tits and leak down your bodies, dripping down his cock and coating his balls.
The thought leaves you dizzy and breathless, keening as you imagine Kento filling you over and over with his seed. Waking up each morning to his cock already stuffed inside of you, fucking the previous night’s cum right back into your needy cunt. Tying you up to your bed posts with that goddamn tie. The satisfaction on his face when your breasts grow heavy and your belly grows round again for him, awakening something so feral inside of him he’s incapable of keeping his mouth off of your tits and his cock from the heat between your thighs whenever you’re alone.
Rational thinking is a thing of the past as you choke out, nearly sobbing with pleasure, cunt squelching wetly as he pounds into you, “Fill me, Kento. Please.”
Kento curses, leaning in to caress the side of your face as he mutters, “My filthy girl.”
“Yours,” you pant. “I’m yours.”
He captures your mouth in a deep, heated kiss, fingers grasping your hips for purchase as he plunges into your cunt, drawing shuddering, unabashed moans out of you. “Come all over my cock then,” he instructs, his rough tone dragging down your spine, fingers toying with your clit while your pussy clenches down on every inch of him.
And when he leans down, holding eye contact with you as he licks up a forgotten trail of milk rolling down one of your tits, there’s nothing that can stop the searing explosion of pleasure that ignites inside of you, your entire body trembling with the relentless, burning hot flood of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had.
He follows moments after you, driving his length in to the hilt as he groans, fingers gripping you tightly, his thick cock pulsing heavily inside of you as he fills your cunt deeply with ropes of cum. As fucked out as you feel, you can’t help but whine at the ceaseless arousal that stirs within your gut as your pussy quivers around the stretch of his cock, milking every drop of Kento’s seed from him.
Kento feels you subtly rocking your hips back into him, and his answering chuckle is like warm honey as he reaches between you. He plays with your overstimulated clit, pressing gentle kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as his seed begins to leak out of you. You moan softly, head falling against his shoulder, pleasure mounting inside of you once more. Leveraging what remains of his softening cock, he slowly fucks his cum back inside of you, his rough whispers of praise a warm caress against the shell of your ear as your entire body dissolves into one last blissful climax that leaves you completely boneless.
You have all of two minutes to bask in the afterglow, Kento’s hands and lips tenderly mapping out your body, when the sound of your phone ringing on the countertop beside you startles you both. Your gaze meets his as you both see the unwelcome name that flashes on the screen, and he promptly flips your phone over and scoops you into his arms as he makes his way toward the living room.
“If I’m working overtime, I’m making this a double shift.”
— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!
#kento nanami x reader#nanami x reader#nanami kento#kento nanami#nanami kento x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen smut#nanami smut#kento nanami smut#jjk#jjk smut#dee writes
4K notes
·
View notes
Video
ok.. my edition of Always Sunny Funnies I Think About Every Day (ft some i dont tend to see in these vids!)
#the first one is literally my favourite line in the entire show it's so fucking funny and delivered perfectly i can't even mimic it#it's always sunny in philadelphia#iasip#sunnyblr#liam mcpoyle#dennis reynolds#frank reynolds#charlie kelly#mac mcdonald#dee reynolds#just to be cleeear i did not write that song and have never had seeex with a chiiild just to be clear :)
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
(first time doing a ask bare with me)
pretty please a continue of the house distribution thing. the fic where she does military housing to afford rent. just a continuation please 🙏🏽
feel free to skip if your mind is just blank with ideas for it x
simon riley / afab! reader • part one
cw: dubcon, intoxication, spanking, wedgies, degradation, dacryphilia, very mild puppy play (mostly just pet names)
"Well, aren' you a sight."
Much like the lamplight, his voice is low. Mocking, almost. You'd think he were amused if it weren't for the dangerous way his eyes assess your sorry state, raking the lines of your bare legs to the way your dress wraps tight around your chest. It almost escapes you that he's maskless at first, so entranced by the glint of his pupils, the shadowed irises that pinch a deep, very primal nerve in you.
His lips curl into an uneven sneer, scar dissecting the bottom and running down to his chin. You wipe your nose with the heel of your hand, giving your best attempt at an apathetic shrug.
"I had fun."
"Did'ya now?" He laughs humourlessly. "Mus' have different ideas of fun, me and you. Can' see the fun in getting pissed out'f my mind, worryin' the people in your life by stayin' out s'late."
Spite flares, fear slinking back your throat to make room for the petulance that froths on your tongue like venom. It completely poisons his admission to the fact that he'd been worried, turns it into something pathetic and hypocritical. You storm closer. Wild. Angry.
"That's fucking rich coming from you. What is your idea of fun, then, Lieutenant? Tormenting women who open up their home to you? Walking in on them in the bathroom, pissing all over the fucking seat? Does it grant you satisfaction to make people so uncomfortable that they'd rather be anywhere but with you?"
His jaw tenses, a "careful, pet." grunted under his breath, but he makes no move to stop you. Just continues sitting on your couch, legs spread, simmering. Waiting for you to tire out.
"Shut the fuck up. Oh my god. Oh my god. I can hardly be at bloody peace in my own house anymore! You're- You're... A fucking nightmare, Riley! So excuse me if I went out and enjoyed myself when I haven't been able to do so in weeks!"
By the end of your little tirade, you're an even worse mess than you had been before. Flyaways stick to your sweaty temple, mascara rims your blown eyes. Your panting does nothing to calm the frantic race of your heart, which beats at your ribcage like doldrums to war. You can feel the effects of it everywhere; your pulse, hot and quick, at your eyebrow, your wrists, the arch of your foot.
Riley stands. Your lip trembles.
You're so close now that your gaze is level with his chest. Tall. You'd forgotten how tall he was. Or how wide. Or dangerous. His biceps – bare given his tight-fitted t-shirt, tree-trunk large and enough to crush watermelons – tense, and all-too-suddenly, you find your jaw clutched in a bruising grip. He jerks your head up so your eyes meet his.
"Simon." He mutters. "But you don't get to call me tha', or anything at all but Sir."
"Letmegomff–" You're rendered mute when his thumb and forefinger press your cheeks together, but that certainly doesn't stop you from whining.
"Y'wanna know my idea of a good time?" Purely rhetorical, of course. Aside from not being able to answer him, it doesn't matter what you want. There's a clear direction this seems to be heading towards – someplace where the hand pawing your ass continues lower, or where the length in his pants fits down your throat. Someplace not unwelcome by you, despite the way you thrash and cry in his arms. "It's putting foul things like you in their place."
He shucks your dress over your ass, the fabric bunching around your waist, and hooks a fist in the waistline of your soaked panties. Your mind is so foggy, influenced by shitty tequila and the subspace Simon bullies you into embracing, that you don't process the cause of your pain immediately. Don't correlate it to the way he pulls upward, your underwear bunching into a tight line that cleaves between your ass-cheeks and rubs abrasively against your poor clit. Don't– can't confront it until the force literally picks you up off the floor, toes barely touching the ground, held up by a wedgie and the grip around your jaw alone.
Tears spring to your lash line, tracing miserable treks down your cheeks. His thumb swipes what it can away, pushing the salty water into your mouth, and stays there while you lap at his calloused fingertips.
"There we go. Look at you, brainless mutt. Jus' need something on your cunt and something in your mouth to keep you quiet, hm? Happy to hang li'e this for hours, I bet."
Your muffled yell is met with another laugh, thumb pushing deeper into your mouth to shut you up.
"Shh, I know. Still need'ta be taught a lesson. I haven' forgotten." The stitches on your panties begin to tear, the rips loud and relieving, especially when you start to sag back down to the floor. Simon doesn't take it with any kind of urgency, though he cocks his head at the way you blink up at him, lashes fanning in rapid succession. An unspoken, desperate plea. "Was gonna hold out, get you sobered up for your punishment. But you're practically itchin' for it, aren' you?"
He puppets your head into an enthusiastic nod, which he meets with a faux huff.
"Course you are." The forbearing quality of his tone is promptly betrayed by the way you're manhandled over his lap. Pivoting one hand opposite to the other, he's able to sit on the couch and get you thrown over his thighs in a mere matter of seconds. "Normally I'd make y'count, but I figure you're too far gone for that. Jus' try to keep your wailing quiet."
Your underwear gives in with a final tug, ripping from the soaked gusset to become nothing but a flimsy piece of fabric around your hips. Simon swipes the tattered remains off your raised bottom, taking longer than necessary to smooth over the area. It's all the indication you need to what's coming – his rough palm teases the nerve endings below your softer skin, bringing them to frenzied life. Preparing them to hurt.
When he breaks away, you hold your breath.
The air behind you whistles as his hand comes down.
A sharp, resounding crack fractures the baited silence of the room. Your mouth flies open. Searing pain roars across your backside like wildfire, worsening every second it's exposed to open elements. Your scream is belated, thunder to the lightening, tearing from your throat only after the initial shock subsides.
A series of lighter blows land on alternating cheeks, two fingers returning to gag you through the onslaught. Unlike his thumb, these reach the very back of your tonsils, prompting wet gags as they fondle with your throat. Drool dribbles from the corners of your lips, slicking your chin with lipstick-tinted fluid.
"Fuckin' beautiful when you're not givin' an attitude, puppy. All stupid and submissive, cunt droolin' on my lap."
You groan, choke, then cry some more when his spanks grow incrementally harsher again. Gratefully, they're never in the same place twice. He beats the top of your thighs, your lower back, the sides of your hips. Your cheeks especially, which start to emit a steady kind of heat the longer he keeps it up.
Eventually, as a matter of coping, your brain starts to consider the cruel sting as pleasurable instead, sending little bolts of pleasure directly to your clit every time his hand comes down on your ass. It swells, fattening up with blood, pressing tighter against the steady mass of his thigh. Inadvertently, you start rutting against it to find more of the same relief, humping his leg like the dog he's making you out to be.
It doesn't escape his notice, of course.
His foot pushes one of your flailing ankles outward so that your legs are spread, pussy made vulnerable to his scrutiny. The next slap is thus aimed straight at your fluttering hole, slick doing nothing to affect his deadly precision. When it lands, it lands exactly where he meant for it to, and introduces you to a whole other degree of pain that has you seeing stars. You're openly bawling around his fingers now, vision so cloudy you can't tell light from dark.
"Didn' like tha', did you?"
"Nngh– nmmph!"
"There's more where it came from, pup. Best listen to everythin' I say from now on, then, 'less you wan' your little hole beat black 'n' blue."
Simon stresses his point by tracing the seam of your cunt, collecting the lubrication there to smear across the hotspot at the top. Presses into it. Grants you a little gratification, as if to say: and here's what you can have if you behave.
"You gonna be a good pet?"
This time, he withdraws his fingers from your maw. Expects a response, even though it takes you ages to recover from the lack of oxygen. You swallow the saliva pooling behind your teeth, inhaling ragged gasps that make your lungs ache.
He pinches your clit when you take too long. Lightly, but it's enough.
"Yes! Yes, s-sir. I'll be good."
#please no one mention this degenerate piece of writing to me ever again#simon 'ghost' riley x reader#tw dubcon#༄dee answers#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon 'ghost' riley#simon riley#ghost#x afab reader#call of duty#cod
892 notes
·
View notes
Text
maybe you aren't evolved enough to appreciate female characters who are terrible people but I am. Let women be annoying, self obsessed, entitled, and as much of an asshole as their male counterparts.
#i wrote this while thinking about the double standards community forces on Britta#and while writing it i thought of killing eve#and sweet dee reynolds from its always sunny#we need more terrible women rep#sweet dee#dee reynolds#iasip#killing eve#eve polastri#villanelle#britta perry#community
21K notes
·
View notes
Note
could i request a le sserafim (unnie line ofc) g!p x fem!reader where maybe the reader is sakura or chaewon gf but the other girls keeps ‘playfully’ asking them to share you a bit, so they do? 🥹
⭑ — playtime : miyawaki sakura x kim chaewon x huh yunjin x fem!reader
☆ a/n : i apologize for the wait, this took a few days! reader is on the pill yall.
☆ warnings : smut. g!p sakura. g!p chaewon. g!p yunjin. top!unnie line. bot!reader. foursome. voyeurism. fingering. cunnilingus. creampie. slight cock warming. blowjobs. handjobs. multiple orgasms. slight cuck!sakura. written under the cut!
☆ word count : over 2k atp, un proofread
It started with Yunjin. Every time you and Sakura would be cuddling on the couch or in the kitchen together, she'd come up and playfully nudge her arm against Sakura's, give a look toward you and then she'd say; "Why not give me a spin?"
Sakura would roll her eyes, maybe pull you a bit closer to her, and then Yunjin would be on her way and your girlfriend would whisper faintly to you. "Ignore her, sweetheart," She'd say. "She's just messing around."
But...then Chaewon started nagging too.
It had been at a dance practice the first time. Her eyes were following you the entire time, and she had walked over to Sakura. The two were in a hushed conversation but you could make out when Chaewon very clearly asked to "play a bit."
You didn't think anything would come of it, you and Sakura were in a pretty serious relationship afterall. But then one night she lat out asked you, her hand running up and down your thigh. "Would you like the other girls to play with you?"
And somehow from there you'd landed in the position you were in now. With sakura behind you rubbing your waist as she peppered kisses along your neck, Chaewon and Yunjin to either side of you- softly cupping your breasts and tweaking with the nipples there. You were trembling at the little stimulation, looking between the girls with a flush.
"So soft," Yunjin whispered softly, thumbing at your hard nipple. You whimpered at the action. Sakura's mouth opened a bit and she lightly bit down on your skin, her hands sliding down and pushing your legs open a bit. You were just in your panties, so the rush of air made you shake.
Chaewon spoke up first. "God, so pretty..."
You flushed, the gaze of all three girls making you squirm. Yunjin slightly shifted to lean back on her hands. She tilted her head at you softly as Sakura spoke. "Pretty girl," She cooed, using her free hand to soft grab yours, guiding it to Yunjin. "You've got Jen all worked up...why don't you help her out?"
She places your hand right over the growing buldge in Yunjin's pants, and the redhead bites down on her lip, eyeing you through her lashes. You nod faintly at your girlfriend, who drops her hands from you so you can lean closer to Yunjin on your knees, undoing the string of her shorts and tugging them down until her cock is free and hitting up against her belly. You reach forward and grab it, starting off with slow, methodical strokes, the way you would Sakura.
Speaking of the girl, she softly lips your hips up, forcing you into pressing all your weight onto your knees as her hand comes to once again palm at your pussy through your underwear. You moan softly at the feeling, but continue to jerk Yunjin off. The redhead nods softly. "That's good, jus' speed up for me..."
So you do, loosening your grip so your wrist can move more freely up and down her cock. Yunjin grunts and lets out a soft moan, clearly enjoying your ministrations. As you jerk her off, Sakura's hand comes up to the hem of your panties and tugs them down, letting them pool at your knees.
"So wet," She chides, leaning back, her hand on her hardening dick.
You whine at the feeling of cold air hitting your already soaked pussy, but before you can worry more- you feel hands holding your thighs softly. When you look back; it's Chaewon, but before you can say anything, she leans her mouth close and laps her tongue out- delving into your folds. You moan out, pausing your ministrations on Yunjin's dick briefly.
Her hand laces in your hair and forces you to look at her. "Look at me baby, focus on me..."
She guides your face down, and you willingly open your mouth to take the head of her cock in, sucking softly and swirling your tongue there. As you do so, Chaewon's tongue swirls over your clit, sucking softly and leaving you moaning around Yunjin's cock. Sakura sits idly to the side, watching her girl with her best friends.
Her dick is incredibly hard, and she's stroking it softly, but seeing the pleasure the other two girls get from you she can't help but move closer. Her eyes meet yours as she gently takes your hand and puts it on her cock. Locking you in the position of sucking Yunjin off and jerking Sakura all while Chaewon eats you out. Talk about a scene from a porno.
Chaewon seems to get tired of using her tongue on you and moves away, replacing it with her fingers as she circles your entrance and slowly pushing two in, going knuckle deep inside of you. "Fuck," Chae mutters, feeling around your tight pussy and listening to your pretty moans. "Take my fingers so well...getting you nice and ready for my cock."
You moan again around Yunjin's cock, and she presses you down her cock further, making you take more and more in. "God, this throat does wonders.." Yunjin moans, squeezing your hair appreciatively.
Chaewon won't stop relentlessly stretching your pussy wider and wider for her, and you have to wonder how big her cock actually is. But everytime your mind shifts to the thought, Yunjin presses you down harder on her cock, or Sakura leans and smacks your ass to startle you.
Looking up at Yunjin, you gage how close she is by the way her face twitches, the way she furrows her brows together and lifts her head to the sky. You hear the sound behind you of Chaewon unzipping her fly finally. Mentally preparing herself, you instead feel her fingers continuing to pump in and out of you. "Is raw fine?"
You look toward Sakura, who's looking over at Chaewon and nodding loosely as you continue to stroke her cock. "She's a real good girl for raw cock," She looks down at you, gently thrusting her hips into your hand. "Aren't you, babygirl?"
You whine in response, your hips rubbing back against Chaewon's fingers. She swears softly, and pulls out, bringing her cockhead up and rubbing it against your entrance in a soft circle. "So fucking needy, you want my cock baby?"
Another whine from you is all she needs to softly slide her cock inside of you. It's bigger than you thought it would be, stretching you nice and wide for her. All the work she did before pays off a bit, but her girth is what kills you. Stretching you so wide for her. You speed your movements up on Sakura's dick softly, rubbing her sensitive tip just the way she likes it. Your tongue swirls the tip of Yunjin's cock and she twitches in your mouth.
Yunjin whines and arches her hips up softly into your mouth. You gag slightly as her cock hits the back of your throat, but continue to suck her off anyway- squeezing your eyes shut. Yunjin pants, and slams into your mouth again, just as Chaewon starts to pick up the pace and relentlessly fuck into your warm pussy.
You moan at the feeling of Yunjin's sticky warm cum slide down your throat, you swallow it all and pull off, licking your lips. But just as Yunjin breathes out, Sakura takes her space. "Catch your breath," She purrs. "You have a lot of work ahead of you, baby..."
You huff and struggle to breath, feeling Chaewon's cock sliding so deep in your pussy. But once you deem yourself ready, you swallow and take Sakura's cock in your mouth. Yunjin moves off to the side with a soft groan, holding her half-hard, flushed cock in her hand. Her eyes watch one of her best friends be sucked off by you, while the other relentlessly pounds into you.
Chaewon grunts from behind you, driving her dick deep inside until it rubs against your G-spot, honestly you think your eyes are going to roll back into your brain in a minute. She's just fucking you so well on her cock.
Sakura's hand laces in your hair the way Yunjin has and she guides you back and forth on her cock with a sigh. "You're so good princess. My perfect girl..."
You whimper around her cock, feeling your climax approaching from Chaewon's relentless assault. She doesn't stop, feeling her dick twitch and you desperately squeeze around her. "Fuck..pussy's so fucking tight for me.."
She grunts, digging into you G-spot again and again. Her movements grow erratic, sloppily hitting her hips against yours. You have to pull Sakura's cock out of your mouth as your moans grow louder, your head pressing against her thigh. Sakura pets your head softly. "Take her cock baby, be a good girl..."
You whine, Chae speeds up. She's like a restless animal, fucking you so hard and deep that you're seeing fucking stars. And then finally, you're coming with a jolt and she's squeezing your hips, emptying her seed deep inside your pussy. "Fuck..!" She grunts out, whimpering. "So goddamn tight...f-fuck, milking me dry.."
She whimpered and leaned closer, slowing and fucking her hips into yours. "God, you're so good. You're so good..."
Her seed enters deep into you, filling your womb a bit before she pulls out with a sigh. Sakura takes the initiative to bring your mouth down on her cock, breathing out shakily as you feel Chaewon's cum slide down your thighs. You hear the sheets shift, and suddenly Yunjin's cock is rubbing against your battered pussy.
“Fuck, so warm..” She muttered, pressing in and just waiting there for you to be ready. Her hand fell at the dip in your back and rubbed slowly. You whine, feeling a bit overwhelmed with Sakura’s cock in your mouth, and Yunjin’s teasing your hole, but you can’t help but lean back and grind against her cock more. “That’s a good girl..” Yunjin coos, leaning forward and letting her cock be enveloped by the warmth of your velvety walls mixed with Chaewon’s cum.
You groan around Sakura’s cock and tremble. The feeling of being filled after you just came is making your head spin, but Yunjin doesn’t seem to mind as she slides in and out slowly- setting up a pace gentler than Chaewon’s. But knowing Yunjin…she wouldn’t stay that way.
Sakura on the other hand laces her hand through your hair and holds you there like that, looking down at you with a few faint moans. “That’s perfect,” She whispers. “You know how to please me, don’t you baby?”
You nod and she mumbles out a praise that doesn’t really reach your ears as Yunjin paws at your hips and ass, reaching under you to rub your clit as she takes you from behind. Her grunts and huffs make your head woozy, and the stimulation makes you feel like you’re going to hit your climax. Again.
There’s less talking as Yunjin slaps her hips against yours a little faster now, and as you take more of Sakura into your mouth until you’re deepthroating her. “Mmph..” You look up into Sakura’s hooded eyes, and she rubs through your hair with praises. Chaewon comes back to you, near Sakura, and you pull off of Sakura’s cock to take Chaewon’s in your mouth. Your hand jumps to jerk Sakura off as you do this.
Chaewon groans and squeezes her eyes shut. “Good girl,” She huffs. “You’re so good..”
A growl escapes Yunjin behind you, as she fucks deep enough to repeatedly hit your sensitive spots. You keep switching off between sucking Chaewon off and sucking your girlfriend off, using both hands to stroke the other.
“Fuck, so tight..” Yunjin whimpers, thrusting harder. “G-God..how are you so tight..”
You can’t exactly give her an answer since your mouth is busy, but it’s not like Yunjin expects one anyway. She just keeps mercilessly pounding into your cunt, rubbing your clit and bringing you nearer and nearer to your second orgasm. Yunjin’s groans mingle in with Sakura and Chaewon’s soft grunts of appreciation, until she’s slamming in one more time and spilling inside of you. Mixing her cum with Chaewon’s.
A sharp whine leaves you. She continues to slowly move her hips into hours, making sure every last drop of her cum makes its way deep inside of your womb. Then, finally, she pulls out. Her dick is covered in your cum, her own, and Chaewon’s. But she merely wipes it off against your already leaking pussy, leaning back with a sigh. “Fucking hell..”
You’re still trying to suck Sakura off when she gently pulls you off, changing your position. Suddenly, you’re being aligned with her cock- your filled cunt rubbing against her saliva slicked cock. Chaewon comes forward to help with the position, and then suddenly your hips are being guiding down and you’re sitting on Sakura’s cock.
It’s almost immediate, the way her cock twitches from all the previous teasing jerk offs and sucking- she cums inside almost immediately. The feeling of your tight pussy squeezing her is just too much. And at her cum shooting inside of you, you lean forward with a whimper- rubbing your stomach. Yunjin comes to brace you, her hand resting on your back as Sakura whines from behind. “S-Shit..”
“Jeez, Kkura.” Chaewon chuckles, her hand rubbing your thigh. “You came instantly. I know she’s good, but wow..”
Sakura grunts. “S-Shut up…” She hisses. “It’s because of you two- she’s just..so tight..”
“Hey, don’t blame us.” Yunjin laughs, leaning into to kiss around your neck. “Y/n’s the one with the addicting pussy..”
Suddenly Yunjin’s hand is sliding up to play with your tits again and Chaewon is guiding your hand back to her cock. Sakura sighs behind you and rubs your back. “I think they wanna play some more, princess.” She whispers. “Can you take more..?”
You whimper out at the feeling of Yunjin touching you again, while Sakura’s cock still sits in your sticky pussy. You clench around her, feeling aroused again. “Y-Yes…”
“Good..” Yunjin chuckles, nipping at your ear. “Because we waited very long for this..”
#⭑ — dee’s writing#kpop fanfic#kpop x reader#kpop#kpop writers#kpop smut#reader x le sserafim#le sserafim x you#le sserafim yunjin x reader#le sserafim x reader#le sserafim yunjin#le sserafim sakura smut#le sserafim sakura#le sserafim#le sserafim unnie line#chaewon#kim chaewon#chaewon x reader#chaewon smut#g!p yunjin#g!p sakura#g!p chaewon#huh yunjin x you#jennifer huh x you#jennifer huh x reader#huh yunjin#jennifer huh#huh yunjin x reader#sakura miyawaki x reader#sakura miyawaki smut
615 notes
·
View notes
Text
Obsessed with the set up and payoff in every hatchetverse show:
TGWDLM hides it in its comedy pretty effectively: "take out the head, and the whole thing goes down!" The key to the main conflict buried in a nonsense monologue by the one note jerk character
Black Friday takes full advantage of their magical psychic child to be cryptic and ominous: "two doors not one" probably being the most obvious example, but a notable one is "Cross" as I think it's not just about Wilbur but also about Lex, who reaches across the threshold into the black and white
(Admittedly, that last bit is probably a strecth)
And NPMD drops all pretenses and leans into the horror of a doomed narrative by telling you exactly what it's about: "it's true! Human sacrifices! Demonic rituals! Sex magic!" All promises fulfilled by the summoning and the subsequent bargain made between Grace and The Lords In Black.
Then there's like, chronologically reversed foreshadowing? Okay so like what I mean by that is like, so you know the Hatchetmen?
Yeah, the angry mob that killed the Waylons and their starry children cultists?
You ever notice how they're never praised? Never honored or spoken of fondly?
Oh sure the town is named after them, but that's probably because they were the only ones around left to name it, and they named it after that time they did that murder together.
But they keep being referred to as hatchet wielding maniacs, even as they are recalled as the ones who put a stop to an evil cult it doesn't change the fact they weren't good people either.
There are no good guys in that story, not really.
And uh, how did Ted put it again, exactly?
"There are no creeps. There are no heroes. There are only people who are alive, and people who are fucking dead!"
Hatchetverse is really fucking good at fulfilling narrative promises, is what I'm saying, I guess.
#dee writes#starkid#hatchetfield#hatchetverse#Hatchettfield trilogy#tgwdlm#black friday#npmd#ted spankoffski#he really became the mvp of this post#call me T'noy Karaxis#the way I be shaking Ted around in his little box
475 notes
·
View notes
Text
Author’s Note: Hi guys! Can't believe it's been so long since I last posted. Hope you guys enjoy this one! As always, if you see any typos... no you didn't
Warnings: Drunk Jake, unprotected p in v sex, cock warming, fingering, hand jobs, doing things we shouldn't in a public place, cussing, partying. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI
Word Count: 5k
-----------------
Late has already bled into early by the time you manage to spot Jake in the crowd again. His back is to you as he speaks excitedly to someone you’ve never seen before – though there’s a definite chance that Jake hasn’t either (he’s a chatty drunk no matter how well he knows the person).
Tonight is a celebration of sorts. A celebration of what is to come and what they've already done. With tour on break for the holidays, the Kiszka-Wagner clan had been taking some much needed R&R after such a long and grueling schedule of shows before they have to leave again. The first few days had seen Jake lounging at home, perfectly content to spend his days entirely wrapped up with you. You had binge watched some shows that he’d missed while gone, ordered take out from all the places that he’d been craving, and over all spent almost every minute of the day within each other’s company.
But Jake is a man who likes action – regardless of how much he enjoys spending time at home with you. After a few weeks of nothing, you can tell that he’s itching to be doing something again. First there had been simple dinner gatherings with your immediate friends and family, then jam sessions with the rest of his brothers that had lasted well into the night, and then finally he’d begged to go to this party tonight. Josh is hosting (no doubt he’s experiencing the very same restlessness that his twin is) and a party hosted by Josh is always a sure fire promise of a fun night.
So you’d happily agreed and given Jake the go ahead to let loose tonight – party as hard as he wanted for however long he wanted and you would be there to drive him home. His eyes had lit up at your offer before he’d given you a sweet kiss and a murmured thank you before scampering upstairs to call Josh and let him know that you two would be coming.
But as excited as Jake had been to go out tonight, he’d still periodically found his way back to you, begging you to come join him where the music is the loudest. You’d politely declined him each time, wanting to give him time to spend with his friends and brothers after giving so much of his time to you. You know that his offer is genuine. Jake wants you by his side at all times (he’s a clingy motherfucker even when he’s sober) but you had simply told him you would prefer him to go spend time with everyone else instead. He’d begrudgingly agreed and you’d since been spending your time watching him go from sober to tipsy and finally to actually drunk within the span of the last few hours. You liked watching him like this – smiling and carefree amongst the people that he loves (along with a number of people that you’re pretty sure Josh only invited because he likes a full house).
But the crowd has dwindled as the early hours of morning approach. It’s nearing 3AM now and only some 15 people remain. You’d been parked in a far corner for the past hour or so but you’re pulled from your spot by Jake calling your name. He, along with Josh, Daniel, and Sam, have made their ways over to the couches and chairs in Josh’s living room and consequently collapsed into them. The core group you like to call them, finding each other to close the night out amongst themselves. There are others still left elsewhere – some faces vaguely familiar and some completely foreign to you, but they’re all far too wrapped up in their own conversations and drunken storytelling to notice that the host and family has moved somewhere else.
Josh sits in one of the loveseats, one arm lazily thrown around the shoulders of his partner – also suitably drunk, who’s nuzzled into his side. Sam sits in another chair, cheeks flushed and hair a complete mess as he pours himself another drink. You know already that he’d say he’s earned it since he’s spent the night “slaving away” as the party DJ. That leaves Daniel and Jake left to find their seats, Daniel finding his place on one end of the sofa and Jake on the other. You make your way to them – each of the boys exclaiming excitedly at your approach.
“Y/n!” Josh booms, the sheer loudness of him drowning out the others and startling his poor partner, “Gracing is with her presence at last!”
You giggle as you make your way to the sofa, eyeing the spot between Jake and Daniel.
“Now that you all seem to have settled down a bit I thought I would join you.”
As you make to sit down, Jake’s hands find your hips and guide you instead to sit down on his lap. He sighs contentedly as you surrender to him without a fight, easing down on the tops of his thighs and settling your back into his chest.
“Hi.” You tell him, twisting as much as you can in his lap to turn and see his face. His cheeks are flushed and a yummy sheen of sweat adorns his neck and temples. Eyes dark and lips looking particularly plump, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“Hi there.” He answers back. “Missed you.”
He smells like alcohol and weed – a combination that seems to have left him feeling particularly touchy as his hands settle themselves possessively on your waist. He’s warm against you, the feeling of his chest rising and falling against your back lulling you into a relaxed state as he falls effortlessly back into the conversation with the rest of the boys. His words rumble in his chest and you take the opportunity to lean your head back into the space between his neck and shoulder. The smell and heat of him sets off some carnal, feral part of your brain and you find heat of your own pooling between your thighs. You ignore the feeling, opting instead to try and focus your mind on the conversation at hand.
“-and so I told him that he would either have to sleep there or find someone else to take him home because I wasn’t doing it.” Sam’s voice wafts through the air. You’ve got no idea what he’s talking about but you have a sneaking suspicion that he probably isn’t all that sure of what he’s saying either.
“You’ve always been a little punk ass.” Josh interjects, giggling a little bit at his own words. “Since you came out of the womb.”
Sam meets him with a scowl.
“I just learned from the best, actually.” He snarks back, though there’s no real heat behind his words.
“Don’t talk about Danny like that.” Jake’s rumbling voice interrupts and though you can’t see him, you can hear the grin as he speaks. “He’s a wonderful influence, Samuel.”
Danny laughs heartily, tossing his head back as he does so. Josh smiles like he’s just won a prize and Sam only meets Jake with an eyeroll.
“I was talking about you two.” He says, pointing between the twins.
They continue on with their bickering and you do your best to keep up with them. The few remaining guests filter their way out one by one, giving thanks to Josh on their way out. The boy’s conversations weave in and out, jumping from topic to topic as they often do. It's hard to keep up, especially as your focus strays from the conversation to the uncomfortable kink in your back from sitting in this position against Jake’s chest. You shift a little bit, settling down further in his lap to ease the feeling. As you shift, a hiss escapes him and his hands tighten on your hips.
“Angel.” He whispers, tilting his head down to press his lips closer to your ear. “Careful.”
You can’t help the way your eyes widen and your core pulses at his tone. His words are rough and ever so slightly slurred. His fingertips dig into the meat of your thighs in a way that makes you dizzy with a sudden want for him to take you right here in front of everyone.
“Something wrong?” You answer him back, turning your head and capturing his lips with yours. Alcohol and weed and Jake hit your tastebuds and you shift once again in his lap.
“Something’s hard.” He murmurs against your lips.
And he is.
You can feel him now, hot and solid against your ass. It sends your blood boiling and your cunt clenching around nothing.
You exhale shakily, willing your voice to remain passive and unbothered.
“Poor baby.” You say, turning back away from him and earning yourself a growl from deep in his chest.
“Jake stick you with being DD for the night, Y/n?” Daniel asks, causing everyone’s eyes to shift towards you and Jake. You can feel him tense behind you. He’s still rock hard against you and everyone’s eyes on him only serve to make him more excited as he tries to play it cool.
“I offered.” You answer Danny, dropping your hand onto Jake’s thigh. “Plus, he’s a handful to deal with even when I’m sober.” You squeeze his thigh. “So I figured I’d lay off the alcohol tonight.”
“Oh he’s something alright.” Josh supplies, grinning ear to ear at his brother. You worry suddenly that he knows somehow. Freaky twin thing and all that, especially given the Cheshire smile he shoots your way. But he looks away and back to the others quickly and you dismiss the idea. Freaking twins.
Conversation divulges again and the attention falls from you and Jake. But he’s worked up now and there’s no way he’s letting you off the hook that easily. Sober Jake is a horndog… drunk Jake is damn near insatiable.
“Play nice.” Jake warns you, his voice just barely loud enough that you can hear it. “Don’t wanna have to punish you.”
That finally makes your breath stutter and halt in your chest. Jake can feel you still against him and he chuckles.
So the game begins.
Wordlessly, you shift your weight and slide your ass across his crotch. Jake bites his lip and his eyes blaze as he watches you settle your rear onto the sofa next to him with an innocent smile. With your legs draped across his hips (still keeping his hard on from being seen by everyone in the room) you’re free now to settle into his side. You’re playing a dangerous game messing with him like this but the new position allows for you to press your calf into the growing bulge beneath his dark jeans and for your hands to settle on his midsection. Deceivingly innocent to others but filled with possibilities to tease him. Jake knows this though, and those dark eyes of his are pinned to you, lust-blown and dangerous as his breathing picks up.
You look away and do your best to turn your attention back to the group. Jake does the same, but the feeling of his hard dick against your calf is proof enough that he’s still more than distracted.
As the conversation carries on, you do your best to interject every now and then to at least pretend to be interested. But you’re more interested in taking Jake home and devouring him. But you suppose the waiting will only make the reward sweeter in the end. Jake, for his part, seems to be feeling the very same. His eyes dart to your face periodically, heavy lidded and carrying the weight of how much he wants you right now. But even with the lust coursing through the both of you, he still looks at you whenever he makes a joke (making sure he’s succeeded in making you laugh) and his fingertips absentmindedly drum songs and beats onto your shin. As worked up as he is, his sweetness still seems to outweigh the alcohol in his system. It just makes you want him more.
Bored with waiting and ready for him to say it’s time to go, you delicately trace your fingers across his midsection. You press your fingertips into the soft flesh of his sides as you keep your eyes trained anywhere but him. Jake cocks his head to look at you, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as you shift your leg and rub your calf across him. Half-hard still, his body tenses. His hand finds yours on his belly and he stills it, grip tightening in warning.
Not satisfied with his reaction, you press your leg down again and this time his spine goes ramrod straight as his hips buck up on their own to meet the feeling.
That’s one point for you.
“Why are you trying to start shit?” He murmurs, taking a sip from the glass that he’d just refilled.
“Because I can.”
“Because you’re desperate.” The last word comes out as an almost growl.
You shake your head.
“I’m not anything.”
“You think I can’t tell?” He asks you, his head tilted down and gaze trained solely on you. You scan the rest of the group, afraid that they’ll hear whatever filth is about to spill from between his plump lips. Thankfully, they’re all far too engaged with their own conversation to notice what’s going on between you and Jake. “Your cheeks are flushed all pink like they get when you’re horny.” He starts, fingers trailing up from your calf to your thigh. “And you're breathing fast. Like you do when you’re wet.” His fingers go higher still and your thighs clench despite yourself.
He wins the point this time and you can’t help the little sigh that escapes you.
“Maybe I’m just tired of waiting.” It’s all you can think to say – the lust fogging your brain and making it impossible for you to come up with a witty retort. You want him. Now.
“You’re going to have to wait a while longer.”
“Why?” The question is reminiscent of a young child. Whiny and full of demanding petulance at his refusal to take you home and fuck you this instant.
“Because someone,” he shifts his hips slightly, “made me rock fucking hard. And I can’t get up like this right now. Not with all them” his eyes dart to the group, “sitting right there.”
You huff a breath.
“Please.”
He hums and places his glass on the table next to you. His own control is cracking under the weight of your heavy gaze (and calf that's teasing his dick relentlessly) and you realize with glee that you've gotten what you wanted.
“Gentlemen,” he starts, clapping his hands down on your legs and interrupting one of Josh’s long-winded stories. “I think we’re going to call it a night. The missus is getting tired.” He grins at you and you flush even more.
“Leaving without helping clean up?” Josh demands, extracting himself from his partner’s grip and rising to his feet.
“Oh, always.” Jake answers him, words still slightly slurred. “But you’ve got these fine young gentlemen here to help you.” He gestures to Sam and Danny who both groan but stand up with Josh anyway.
As they begin busying themselves with picking up glasses and paper plates, you raise your legs from Jake’s lap and stand. He follows you – though he teeters dangerously once he’s on his feet.
“Easy.” You warn, wrapping an arm around his waist and helping him balance.
“I’m fine.” He laughs, but his steps remind you of a baby deer trying to walk.
As the two of you make your way outside, you both hiss as the cold of the night hits you. You press yourself further into Jake’s side. As you reach the car – parked all the way by the road, you make to open the passenger door for Jake but he pulls you into a kiss first.
His tongue plunges into your mouth and he groans as you grant him easy access. Despite the cold, your body thrums with the heat of your arousal. Jake’s hands are sloppy as they caress every inch of you he can get – your sides, your tits, your ass, everything. As you reach up to tangle your hands in his hair he leans his full body weight against you, pressing you into the side of the car and caging you there. You can't quite tell if it's just so he can keep you where he wants you or because he can't stand upright any longer. Either way, wetness floods your panties at the feeling of his body pressing into you. Solid is the only word you can think of to describe him.
“Jake.” You moan as his lips trail down to your neck, the heat of his mouth a delicious juxtaposition to the frigid wind. He’s relentless, drunkenly nipping and biting at your skin in all the ways he knows you like. “Jake, quit.” You tell him, even though it’s the last thing you want him to do.
“Why?” The question is muffled by your skin, his lips never leaving your throat.
“Get in the car. It’s cold as fuck.”
He pouts but he straightens up and removes himself from you and you ignore the ache in your belly at the loss of contact. Jake’s fingers wrap themselves around the handle of the door but not of the passenger seat. Instead, he opens the door to the back and raises an eyebrow at you.
“Jake.”
“Y/n.” His tone matches yours mockingly, his eyes glittering.
“It’s freezing.”
“So let’s warm up then.”
You try to fight it. You know you should. You’re out here where any one of the neighbors could look outside to see what’s happening if they look hard enough. If Josh looks outside and sees your car still here there’s no doubt that he’ll know what’s happening. Sam and Daniel are spending the night and are probably drunk enough that they’re already passed out but who knows if one of them might happen to look out a window.
But the ache between your legs has grown nearly unbearable and you don’t want to wait any more than Jake does. And as you watch him clumsily climb into the back seat and lean himself back against the opposite door you know that any shred of resistance you had is gone.
“You’re drunk.” You scold, unwilling to admit defeat even as you climb into the car with him and shut the door behind you. It’s freezing in the car and your teeth chatter slightly as you settle in.
“Quit fussing.” He tells you, spreading his legs and pulling you in to settle between his thighs. “Don’t wanna have to wait.”
At that – at the pleading, whiny way he says the words, you cave and crash your lips back to his. His hands find your sides again, squeezing possessively. Your own hands find his shoulders as you attack his mouth with yours. The kiss has no real finesse, all teeth and tongue, but it’s perfect. Jake is moaning beneath you with every pass of your tongue and you realize with no small amount of excitement that the alcohol in his system has taken away any ability he had to hold all those noises in. He’s always vocal. But this? This is like Heaven to your ears.
His hand drops to the waistband of your pants and his fingers dance along the skin there before slipping beneath. His fingers are cold as they graze over your clit through the fabric of your panties. His middle finger presses in, applying just the right amount of pressure as he begins to rub in little circles. You moan loudly into the kiss and his answering groan tells you all that you need to know about how into this he is.
“You’re soaked.”
You nod, head falling back and mouth dropping open as he pushes your panties aside and circles your swollen clit even faster.
“Take these off.”
You obey, sitting backwards and toeing your shoes off before sliding your pants off your legs. It’s cramped and clunky in the confined area of the car but Jake watches you like it’s still the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. Your shirt is next, discarded carelessly into the floorboard as you paw at his own shirt, desperate to see more of him. Jake lifts his arms and pulls his short off, the fabric joining your clothes as well.
No matter how many times you see him like this, you still can’t help but be amazed. He’s glorious before you, all milky skin and soft curves that make you want to bite him. His arms flex as he pushes his jeans down, the strength of his biceps and forearms the perfect balance to the rest of him. Without pausing long enough to think about it, you drop low and sink your teeth into the supple flesh of his side.
He cries out in answer, arching his back and head falling back with a thud against the window.
“Y/n. Fuck.” He whines and you take his moment of surprise to palm him through his boxers. He hadn’t been lying earlier when he said he was hard as a rock. Even through the fabric you can feel the heavy heat of him.
You trail your mouth down to the waistband, licking along the skin there before grabbing it with your teeth and pulling them down, allowing his cock to spring free. You sink lower still, intent on enveloping him in the warmth of your mouth but he stops you with a hand in your hair.
“Wait.” He sighs out breathlessly, causing your eyes to flick to his questioningly. “Not gonna last if you do that.” He grins sheepishly and you laugh.
“Who’s desperate now?’’ You ask him, echoing back to his taunt from earlier.
“It’s your fault.”
With that, he sits up and surges forward, slamming his lips to yours again and pushing you backwards. He settles on top of you, his cock resting against your ass cheek. The movement had taken much effort, his drunken limbs just a little too clumsy for finesse and grace and you both laugh a little as you settle. Finally, he pulls your panties all the way down and you whine as the cool air hits your wet center.
“Jesus.” He murmurs, those dark eyes of his devouring the sight of you beneath him. “Been waiting for this all night.”
He sits upwards, gripping his cock in his fist as you spread your legs for him. The car is small, your back shoved into the corner and your head cocked at an odd angle. But none of it matters as he finally slides himself into you. You cry out, hands reaching out to grip his shoulders. His groan is deep and rough as he bottoms out and pauses, allowing you a moment to adjust to the familiar stretch of him.
“Move.” You beg him, hooking your legs around his hips and using your heels to dig into his ass and pull him closer.
He plants both hands on either side of you, fingers digging into the leather of the seats as he starts to rock his hips. His brows tip upwards and his eyes fall closed as you clench around him helplessly.
“So fucking tight.” He slurs, hips snapping into yours deliciously. The air between the two of you is thick – humid and warm enough that the windows have begun to fog up completely.
“Harder.” You whine and his body trembles and shakes as he tries to follow your command.
His mouth drops open and a loud moan escapes him as he picks up his pace slightly. His arms tremble where they fight to keep himself up in this position and you giggle softly at him.
“Switch with me before you fall over.” You urge him before tossing your head back with a moan as his cock brushes against that special spot inside of you. Even drunk off his ass he can still find it with ease.
“Fine.” He huffs, pulling out of you and settling back into his earlier position with his back against the door. “Sorry.” He mumbles, giving you a drunken little grin.
“S’okay.” You tell him, climbing over his thighs to straddle him. “Can watch you better this way anyway.”
He preens a little at that, cheeks flushing a dark red as you grip is cock in your hand and guide the head to your entrance. You sink down and whine as this position allows him to slip even deeper into you than it had before.
You roll your hips and moans punch out of both of you. He always feels so fucking good – but having to wait so long for it tonight has only made it even more rewarding now. His hands grip your ass, kneading into the flesh and guiding your pace. His eyes are half lidden as he watches you and sweat begins to bead at his hairline. The look he’s giving you – hair a mess and mouth dropped open, is a familiar one. It’s one you’ve seen on his face countless times; both as he’s fucked you and as he plays his guitar on stage. It’s enough to have the coil in your belly begin to tighten already.
“So fuck’n beautiful.” He moans lowly, his eyes pinned to where your tits bounce with each roll of your hips.
You whine and lean downwards, kissing him roughly as his hips begin to thrust upwards to meet yours. You can tell that he’s losing it beneath you – his focus torn between trying to kiss you and trying to match the rhythm you’ve set. He’s pussy drunk and actually drunk and the thin bit of control he has left is starting to break.
He uses his grip on your ass to guide you upwards, pressing your breasts into his face. His lips lock around one hard nipple as one hand comes up to palm the other one. He moans louder still, the sound muffled against your tit. The feel of him… he’s everywhere in this cramped car and all of your senses have been completely overtaken with just Jake.
“Please.” He whines, detaching his mouth from your nipple with a wet pop. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock.”
His teeth dig into his bottom lip, his face contorting in pleasured agony as he holds himself back, waiting for you to finish first. You toss your head back and cry out, his cock hitting your sweet spot as you ride him into oblivion. The noises falling from him are barely human – rough and broken in a way that lets you know that he's completely overtaken with the pleasure of it all. Your orgasm finally hits you, seeming to start at your toes and work its way all the way through you. Your body shakes as you ride it out, walls fluttering and clenching around his cock. Your moans are only interrupted by cries of his name as he fucks you through it before finally your brain manages to come back to reality to take in the sight below you.
Jake – drunk and fucked out with his eyes pleading up at you.
“Gonna fucking cum, Y/n.” He thrusts up once, twice, three more times before he’s losing it. His head thrashes and curses fall from his lips like prayers. It goes on forever, his body tensed up and legs shaking on either side of you as he spills his release into you.
Finally, his body relaxes and stills. And his beautiful eyes blink open to look at you. A dopey and satiated smile spreads across his lips. You can feel his cock where it’s still inside you softening, but neither of you really want to move yet.
“You’re so pretty.” He says with an alcohol-drenched smile.
“And you’re still very drunk.” You giggle, kissing him softly.
“I don’t have to be drunk to be able to see that you’re pretty.” He answers with a slight pout. Even inebriated he’s not going to let you run from a compliment. His ability to still recognize those little insecurities that you still have, no matter how much he’s had to drink, makes you smile softly down at him.
“You’re pretty too.”
He flushes and opens his mouth to retort but it’s cut off with a hiss as you pull off him. You reach down to grab your phone where it’s been discarded on the floorboard with yours and his clothes and the screen lights up enough to make you squint your eyes.
Two notifications await you.
Josh 4:27AM
you guys okay?
Josh 4:34AM
in my driveway?? :(
You can’t help but laugh at the message before clicking your phone off. The windows have completely fogged up now so there's no denying your guilt to Josh.
As you turn back to face Jake, his eyes have closed and he looks almost asleep.
“Hey.” You smack his chest and he startles, making you laugh even harder. “Get dressed so we can go home.”
He groans and sits up, eyes looking glassy but still wearing a satisfied smirk.
“Round two once we get home?”
“If you can stay awake that long.”
“Challenge accepted.”
--------
If you would like to be added to my taglist you can find it here
tags:
@jakeyt
@demolitionndann
@brujamagik
@mybussyinchrist
@writingcold
@way-to-go-lad
@sinsofstardust
@jjwasneverhere
@ohgodthefeeling-gvf
@wildbluesorbit
@twistedmelodies
@neverwanttofallasleep
@sunandthemoontwinflames
@clairesjointshurt
@mindastreamofcolours
@hellowgoodbye
@gretasfallingsky
@weightofkiszka
@smoking-jakelane
@gvfmelbourne
@stardust-chordsss
363 notes
·
View notes
Text
#frank reynolds#iasip#always sunny#just to show my thought process on the 'hmm which frank is th most deservedly unconscious' for that rb'd post#he's catatonic in th hospital but its on a bed which makes it feel too normal#in th booth its a good pose but he's awake and talking to th twins#sanitizer frank is obviously hilarious bt hes writhing around n it so....doesnt feel right#him on th ground w sausage links coming out of his pocket is so funny but hes just ACTING like hes dead....#poison i went w he is @ least fully unconscious @ th time of photo evn tho he is halfway outta th frame#plus being on th floor trumps everything (xcept maybe th 'carousel')#was hard to choose!#screencap#sweet dee has a heart attack#charlie catches a leprechaun#the gang gets quarantined#mac and charlie write a movie#the world series defense#n e 1 else remember some? only othrs i can think of is th gang replaces dee w a monkey waking up on th bar#nd wen hes on acid in th trash can on th ground n th gang gets invincible#nd maybe gang turns black waking up on th couch but....none of those r worthy imo#frank aes
268 notes
·
View notes
Text
DAUGHTER LESSONS | a joel miller oneshot
masterlist
summary: would it kill joel to just touch you?
warnings: established relationship, infidelity, jackson-era, no mention of age, angst
author's note: so... i have been disgustingly obsessed with COWBOY CARTER (duh! i have taste) and have fixated on the duality of daddy lessons and DAUGHTER, which thereby produced this lovechild of the two. you guys know i love me some religious imagery and angst...
Nothing could’ve confined you to a pew in your youth.
Your knees had breathed a sigh of relief at the absence of a blood-red kneeler when you were granted Sunday morning autonomy. Only your grandmother’s morbid prophecies of watching mass from above this time next year herded you between the rows of wooden benches at Easter and Christmas.
Maybe it was her you were trying to reach; chin tipped to the ceiling as if you would be overcome with the smell of potpourri and Irish coffee, heart flooded with all the right answers.
Still, nothing good came.
“Didn’t expect t’find you in here.” His familiar drawl pricks at the hairs on your neck.
“I was trying out solitude.”
Joel had always moved with surprising stealth for someone of his build, but nothing he did these days surprised you anymore.
You had given him everything since meeting shortly after his and Ellie’s arrival in Jackson. It hadn’t taken long for you to witness his undoing.
But this time, Joel doesn’t move.
Rather, he stands in the middle of the aisle taking in the sight of you on your knees four rows ahead and to his left. Your hands are clasped so tightly together he can see the whites of your knuckles from this far back.
Joel knows the back of your head more intimately than he probably should.
You have a habit of turning away from him in bed at night the second you were overcome by the smallest amount of fatigue.
Too damn hot you would mumble from your tenure of the mattress. And he can’t say he minded too much.
Often, he would reach a hand to your hair spilling across the pillow onto his side before regaining sense and propping the hand underneath his head instead.
During your waking hours, languidly reciting the steps of your morning routine around his small kitchen, he feels the want to touch you.
He wants to smooth down the hair that always bobbled around the raised birthmark on your scalp. He wants to feel your cheek against the knuckle of his right index finger. He wants to take the coffee cup from your hands and engulf them in the warmth of his instead.
“She’s not here.” You mumble, so quietly that he’s not sure if that’s what you’ve actually said.
“Who?” He braves, wiping his sweating palms on the sleeves of his flannel shirt.
You respond with a scoff, confirming his hypothesis.
Of course she isn’t here. You both know very well that she isn’t here.
When Tommy had first introduced the two of you, he’d cornered Joel at the bar while ordering their third, or maybe fourth, round of drinks.
“She’s a good woman, Joel.”
“I’m figuring that out just fine.” He’d smirked, taking a preliminary sip of his beer before glancing back at you. Your elbows were perched on the wooden table, chin resting on your palms as you exchanged low-looks and snickers with Maria sat across from you.
“No, you don’t get it. She’s good. She’s kind. Her daddy’s the pastor here.”
“Not settin’ me up with a Bible basher are you, little brother? She gon’ make me wait until I give her a ring?”
He’d felt like an ass as soon as he’d opened his mouth, which was made worse by Tommy’s unchanging expression. He didn’t look irate or tired of Joel’s age-old shit – the face behind his warning was unwaveringly sincere.
“Just don’t hurt her.”
And in that moment, Joel couldn’t fathom anything as desacrating as hurting you. He had returned Tommy’s solemnity with a nod and carried your drinks back to your table; the remainder of the night blurring into the rest of his life.
He hadn’t fallen in love with you that night. Joel is stubborn in love, and it took months of langorous warmth to thaw his roughness.
You didn’t make him wait for a ring.
Nights spent in symphony with one another were the only moments Joel could bring himself to touch you. There, he knew how to work his hands, his tongue, his hips. Not once would he hesitate in reaching out to smooth a thumb across your forehead. He moved like a river, flowing into your body in desperation to meet the ocean.
And you wondered if he did it on purpose, or if he knew that he was doing it at all. Passing him in the intimacy of his home or the vastness of the food hall, you were only ever hungry for his skin against yours.
Slowly, you crept into his skin through his pores. You made his days sweeter and smoother wherever and however you could, hoping perhaps one evening his fingers would brush yours as you set a plate on the table before him.
But here you rise, swallowed in the rosy light of dawn with damp cheeks and all faith robbed from your chest.
“I can’t do this here, Joel.” You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and attempt to put as much distance between the two of you as you pass him in the aisle.
“Then don’t. Come home.”
For a second he debates reaching out to you, wrapping you in his arms and letting you beat against his chest as your body racks with sobs. But the moment soon escapes him and he’s following you into the morning air.
“I buried my home a week ago.” You spoke flatly, bones void of any remnants of anger or fight. “You know what my daddy told me before he died?”
He thinks he does. Moreso, he can hazard a guess.
Nevertheless, he can’t quite seem to find his voice as you bring yourself to a halt. The morning sun peeks between the buildings behind you.
“Told me one day you’d play me for a fool. And look at me now.” You shook with breathy laughter. “He’s in the ground and there’s another woman keeping the man I love’s bed warm.”
Jackson would soon be rising with the sun. It had almost been a full day since you’d come home from patrol an hour earlier than Joel expected.
In truth, it hadn’t been the clothes strewn over kitchen chairs and draped over the bannisters. Not even the warm smell of salt and latex that hit you before you’d opened the bedroom door.
Joel’s fingers grazed the small of her back, tracing lazy shapes up and down her spine. Your stomach tightened into a small fist, losing all composure you had truly tried to maintain in your ascent up to the bedroom.
You had never even really been one to fight. Your father had taught you to handle yourself, and you’d learnt what was necessary to survive in the new world.
Really, you wanted to pollute the skin beneath Joel’s touch. You wanted for him to never touch anything beautiful again; to never grasp at cold cotton sheets in the middle of the night; to never feel the slow threat of rain tapping against his skin.
Life began to creep in around the two of you. Ellie and Tommy would soon come looking for Joel to set off on morning patrol.
“One day, Joel, someone is going to give you exactly what you deserve. And I pray to God that I’m there to see it.”
You turn on your heel, leaving Joel to watch as your hair sways from side-to-side down your back. He swallows the lump formed in his throat and tilts his chin to the sky, blinking away the threat of tears moistening his lower lashes.
He wipes his hands against his jeans and straightens his torso, forcing a low cough to clear his throat.
Peaches, he thinks. Tonight he will bring you peaches, and he will watch as the juice spills from the side of your mouth. He will reach a thumb to wipe it away, and he will hold you. For as long as you let him; as long as he breathes.
#joel miller x f!reader#joel tlou#the last of us#joel miller x reader#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x female reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#my fic#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller tlou#joel miller fanfic#joel x reader#tlou hbo#tlou#tlou2#dee writes
367 notes
·
View notes
Text
1910s AU where Regulus runs away from his family to become an unregistered doctor in London after finding out his family runs an underground organ ring in France. (He takes the Rosier twins cuz he found Evan doing the harvesting as a means of income after getting disowned)
In comes Euphemia Potter who wants a man dead and was like "Yoooo I'll get you a license if you help me kill someone" and like any normal person Reg is like "k"
Euphemia also has a hot son who is like "Hey (with a slutty amount of Ys)" and they fall in love.
#theres more but like yeahhhh#i gave dee the entire thing in case I never write it 🫡#marauders era#marauders#regulus black#regulus arcturus black#james potter#james fleamont potter#james x regulus#jegulus#regulus x james#james potter x regulus black#starchaser#sunseeker
223 notes
·
View notes
Text
seeing lots of posts about sandman where they’re like ‘this scene is so emotional, Dream has tears in his eyes’. babes, he’s got tears in his eyes like 90% of the time, this is not a good indicator of emotion anymore
#Morpheus doesn’t have emotion he just has very wet eyes#I wanna write a fanfic with the whole trope of ‘his eyes glistened with limpid tears’ but it’s like every paragraph#please just let this endless being cry#the sandman#Morpheus#dream#dream of the endless#sandman#hob gadling#johanna constantine#John dee#bee talks
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
liability
levi ackerman x f!reader
summary: the tables are turned when you save Levi during a mission, nearly getting yourself killed in the process. he's furious, but you don't quite understand why.
word count: 1.6k
content: feels, confessions, kissing
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
You startle as the heavy wooden door to the room bursts open, hinges groaning weakly in protest as Levi strides in, slamming it just as hard behind him. The warm glow from the small lantern sitting on the desk beside you contrasts sharply with the cold steel of the eyes it illuminates when he comes to stand before you, everything about his posture conveying the extent of the anger roiling dangerously inside of him.
Carefully closing the notebook you were recording field notes in for Hange, you let go of the pencil in your hand and try to ignore how uncharacteristically ruffled Levi’s hair is, as if he’s been repeatedly dragging his hands through it. You quell your urge to comment on it—because any other day, you’d make a remark just to get a rise out of him.
But you know better than to poke the bear right now, not when you’re well aware you’re the origin point of the fury that he’s outright shaking with. A trail of dried blood remains crusted to the side of his face, matching the dark stains along the torn and tattered remains of his dark green cloak.
He almost died today.
And so did you.
“That you were about to be Titan food if nobody stepped in to help you,” you offer in a flat tone, arms crossed over your chest.
Levi clicks his tongue against his teeth in annoyance, swiping a thumb across the cut on his bottom lip as he continues to level you with that piercing stare. “I was fine,” he snaps.
He was two seconds from being torn to shreds by the three Titans that cornered him while he fought to re-engage his malfunctioning ODM gear, and if you hadn’t come ricocheting through the trees to distract them, humanity may have very well finally lost its strongest soldier.
You tell him as much, throwing your hands in the air in exasperation, and he takes a step toward you, borderline shouting, “I told you to stand the fuck down.”
He had.
You’d locked eyes with him the moment you careened through the thick cover of the branches, had clearly heard what he shouted at you the moment he realized what you were about to do—and you’d promptly ignored his command.
“I didn’t hear you,” you shrug, though you both know it for the bald lie that it is.
He moves closer.
“I’m your Captain, and I gave you a goddamn order.”
“It was a shitty order. You would have died,” you retort.
Levi nearly closes the distance between the two of you, your back pressing against the wall behind you as the toes of his boots scuff against your own. With one hand splayed flat on the surface beside your head, his breath is hot on your face as he seethes, “You almost died.”
A Titan had grabbed you, almost crushing you to death in the process as your fingers fumbled for purchase on your sword, hoping that your last remaining blade would hold out. You hadn’t had time to think through a solid plan, your body having jumped into action without a second thought the moment you realized Levi was well and truly fucked when you could no longer see and hear him soaring through the air. So you’d acted on pure instinct, buying Levi the precious moments he needed to get his gear back in working order, and he’d then immediately killed the Titan that had you in its grip.
It was fine. You both survived.
Barely.
You’d hardly had time to say a word to Levi afterward, both of you caught up in rejoining the main fray of the battle alongside your fellow Scouts.
“I’m fine,” you counter, turning your head to the side to break the intense eye contact.
Levi grasps your chin, turning your head to face him again, mouth set in a hard line. “You’re reckless,” he growls.
You sigh in annoyance, fighting a losing battle to temper down your body’s reaction to Levi’s close proximity, the whisper of his body heat like a beacon to your tired, weary bones.
Right.
So maybe your reckless decision wasn’t just made out of the goodness of your heart as a Scout, but also was heavily inspired by one inescapable, undeniable fact—you’re in love with Levi Ackerman.
Your crush had been innocent enough at first, a bright flare of feelings sparking to life inside of you the first time you watched the way he effortlessly operates on missions. One would have thought that, as you became familiar with his cold and merciless demeanor up close, his piss poor attitude with you and your fellow Scouts would help quell the frantic beating of your heart every time he was in your proximity.
But that wasn’t the case, not at all.
Rather, you found yourself even more drawn to him, craving the few and far between moments when you’d catch him letting his guard down. The moments when, despite his scathing remarks, it was abundantly clear just how much he cared about each and every member of the Scout Regiment.
The moments when you saw just how far he’d go to protect those closest to him.
And when you found yourself transferred to run under Levi’s command, stamping down on the inconvenient, endlessly smoldering embers of your laughably unrequited crush only became more difficult as you were forced into even closer quarters with him than ever before. The only thing that helped after that was Levi’s unfailing tendency to express one of only two emotions toward you at all times: stark indifference or annoyed exasperation.
Unable to formulate a smart response to snap into the scant space remaining between your mouths, you mutter, “You’re reckless, too.”
Levi places his other hand on the wall on the other side of your head, effectively caging you in, his hair brushing against your forehead. “Well you can’t be,” he seethes.
“I’d argue that your life matters more than most of the others here,” you offer plainly, meaning every word.
“Not to me.”
You roll your eyes, “Self-deprecation doesn’t suit you, Capt—”
“Your life matters more to me,” he cuts you off roughly, voice nearly breaking.
If it weren’t for the steady pressure of the wall holding you up, you would have swayed. “What?”
One of his hands curls into a fist, his eyes falling shut for a moment as he takes a deep, steadying breath. “I was furious when you were switched into my squad.”
Yeah, he’d been downright incorrigible for days.
“I noticed,” you comment, deflating slightly.
Your life? The lives of your fellow Scouts, of all of you.
Of course.
“That’s not what I…” He stares at you, eyebrows knitting together, a strange expression on his face. “You don’t know, do you?” Stormy slate softens to the soft gray hue of the skies after a storm as his eyes scan your face.
“I know that I annoy you to no end and you spent weeks petitioning Erwin to move me elsewhere,” you roll your eyes.
“Because my feelings make me a liability on the field with you under my command.”
Blood rushes in your ears, and your next words are so tentative, so small, “Your feelings?”
Levi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly underestimating just how unbelievable the words coming out of his mouth are. “I can’t think straight around you,” he chokes out, his forehead falling against yours.
“But you…” you trail off, trying to reconcile the conflicting meaning of what he’s saying with what you’ve come to believe for so long.
“I’ve been trying to avoid this, how I feel, because it wouldn’t be fair to you. It’s why I…act the way I do around you.”
Idly, you wonder if it’s actually possible to forget how to breathe. “What do you want, Levi?” you ask quietly, carefully placing a hand over his chest, his heart beating steadily behind his ribcage.
He covers your hand with his own and murmurs, “Something that would be really goddamn selfish in the grand scheme of things,” glancing down at the winged emblem on his jacket.
“And what if I want you to be selfish?”
A sharp inhale from Levi is your only warning before he cups your face in his hands and brings his lips crashing into yours.
Your body sinks into his embrace as he wraps you up in his arms, fingers splayed possessively along the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. He kisses you hard, like he’s trying to convey everything that he’s been holding back, every touch he’s denied himself in your presence.
The cinders in your chest ignite, burning hotter with each press of his plush lips against yours, each nip of his teeth along your bottom lip. His fingertips are a searing brand on your waist as he grasps your hip, tugging out a small, needy whine from your lips in return, and his warm, answering chuckle has your legs threatening to give out beneath you.
You both freeze suddenly at the sound of two rapid knocks against the door, followed by the sound of Hange calling out, “Hey, did you want to go over those notes?”
The look Levi gives your notebook, innocently sitting atop the table, is downright scathing as he barks out, “She’s busy.”
“Levi?” Hange asks, tone brimming with curiosity.
“We’re busy,” he exhales, tilting his head up toward the ceiling in annoyance.
The answering noise that leaves Hange’s mouth can only be described as complete and total delight as they laugh before walking away, footsteps pointedly loud as they make their way back down the hallway.
Realizing that you had actually noted a few important things regarding new discoveries on Titan behavior, your eyes stray back to the notebook, uncertain. “Are you sure I shouldn’t just…”
“Absolutely not,” Levi cuts you off brusquely with another searing kiss, tugging you toward the bed in the corner of the room. “You’re mine tonight.”
— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!
#levi ackerman#levi ackerman x reader#levi x reader#attack on titan fanfiction#attack on titan#aot#snk#shingeki no kyojin#dee writes
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Something Like Consolation [Yandere Alhaitham x Reader]
Title: Something Like Consolation [Yandere Alhaitham x Reader]
Synopsis: Follow up to this yandere Kaveh & Alhaitham imagine scenario. You don't want any comfort from Kaveh in this moment, but you don't imagine you can get any from Alhaitham, either.
I read this post from @j0succ last night about gentle lies and immediately got an idea for a line of dialogue that solved how I wanted to approach a lil follow up to this scenario. Mostly written on my phone so uhh yeah.
Word count: 1376
notes: yandere, kidnapped reader
The sight in the bathroom mirror is a far cry from what you saw only minutes before. Daintily applied makeup, finished off with carefully painted star, are ruined--streaking. Ugly. That’s what you see in the mirror. Splotches of color and red eyes and a face scrunched from bitter sadness.
You look ugly. Mouth quivering as you fight to keep your sounds in, the blur of Alhaitham behind you, moving to shut the door.
It’s the soft click of the bathroom door shutting that does you in. And pitiful mouth-pinched sobs that shake your chest become thick, choking cries echo off the panels of the bathroom walls.
You aren’t hoping for Alhaitham to take you in his arms and rub your back and pull you close to his chest, and he doesn’t. Instead he reaches for one of the cloths hanging on the wall and turns the sink on, the heavy sound of water mingling with your own cries.
He holds it out. “Wash that off, then we’ll get you changed.”
The thought of taking that cloth makes your arms feel leaden.
You look up at him, mouth downturned and pitiful and quivering.
He sighs, and shakes his head.
“I’ll wash it off for you. Stay still.”
And you do, coughing out your cries as he dutifully dips the cloth in water again and again, scrubbing your face with the same methodical firmness that he scrubs the rest of you when he deems you too unruly to bathe yourself.
If it were Kaveh, you think, he would be using the softest of touches. Cooing in between strokes as he gently wipes the makeup away. Kissing your cheek to calm you down.
But you don’t want Kaveh right now. Not when he hurt you. Not when he lied to you. And if he lied about this... what else was a lie, then?
The way his fingers nimbly stroked your back when you were upset, the soft downturn of his lips when Alhaitham was verbally berating you for being so disobedient, the sweet kisses tinged with wine from a bar you’ll never be able to set foot in?
Were they all falsehoods, too? Pretty things he created to calm you and soothe you and shut you up?
When Alhaitham deems your face clean enough, he pulls away the cloth and drops it in a wicker hamper to be taken care of later.
“Wait.” You reach out and touch his forearm, your voice is soft and thick. A frog in your throat, but the frog is a heavy chest and broken dreams.
He pauses, and regards you with a frustratingly neutral expression.
Your tongue unsticks from your mouth and you bite your lip to keep sobs from trembling out, so that you can say something to make him stay. Something that might make you feel better, even, if that can be managed.
“Kaveh…” You fight for the words. You can’t say anything awful. Not just for your own sake--you can’t possibly thrust Kaveh entirely away, not here--but because you never know when Alhaitham would rather lecture you on proper respect than acknowledge when he or Kaveh has done something awful to you.
“Kaveh lied.” That’s what you decide on. It's a fact, and surely not something that you can get in trouble for saying. "Why... why did he do that?"
Alhaitham sighs. At first, you don’t think he’ll say anything. You think he’ll remove your hand from his arm and go get you dressed and tell you to read a book and be quiet.
But he does speak. And what he says takes you aback.
“He should not have lied to you.” He talks down to you even now, the same way he does when he’s instructing you on what you should be doing that day, or how you should sit or how you should eat. For the moment, it doesn’t bother you, because he's clearly on your side. Your side!
“The moment you asked to go to the festival, he should have told you no.”
A pause, and his voice lowers. There’s something akin to softness in his tone. Maybe you’re imagining it. Maybe you’re so desperate for sweetness that you’re placing the gentle curves of Kaveh’s voice into the man before you.
“Letting you get your hopes up like that was very cruel of him.”
And you nod--you nod, for once, agreeing with Alhaitham, and you’re so busy looking downcast that you don’t see the pleasant surprise that flickers in his expression for a moment.
You don’t think before you move. You just do it. You step forward and wrap your arms around his back, pressing your head against his chest, the same way you do to Kaveh when you need comfort. Which is often.
Alhaitham is not one for gentle embraces and soft hugs. But you hear him sigh, an annoyed, resigned thing, and you feel his hand pat your back. Just the once. He doesn’t stroke it or pull you close and cluck and coo, but there’s something comforting about the solid weight of his chest underneath you.
His hand, too, is what breaks you again. You cry pitifully into his chest, turning your face this way and that, getting his clothing wet with hot tears and probably snot that he will make you clean up later.
“I… I…” What do you want to say? What can you say? You think about your outfit, the carefully embroidered flowers, the painfully tight stitching that took you hours upon hours. An outfit you sweat and quite literally bled for, the callused little pinpricks on your finger pads as proof.
“I worked hard on my outfit,” you say, squeezing Alhaitham tighter as your voice gets thinner and pinched. “I really did.”
You worked hard on it, because it was your ticket to something you wanted, and what was the crux? It was something for you, for once. Not Kaveh. Not Alhaitham. You were going to run around that festival and breathe in the smell from the food stands and ask them to win you prizes and enjoy the exhilarating pounding in your chest from the fireworks at the end of the night.
Every stitch you made was one step closer to that. Only it wasn’t. Only it was for nothing at all. And now you’re sobbing in a bathroom while Alhaitham listens, letting you cry it out, and what was any of it for?
You’re about to pull away when Alhaitham hums underneath you.
“The embroidery was well done.”
Your breath feels like it stops, and there’s a soft, stuttering sort of gasp that escapes your mouth. Alhaitham… never compliments you. Not like that. Not in a way that you can hold onto and carry with you.
You pull back, sniffling, wiping at your face with your hands as you stare up at him.
“It… it was?” You gulp down your cries, and your eyes widen, and you want so much from him in this moment that you don’t know what to do.
He nods, and his hands push you away a little, holding onto your arms with his fingers wrapped around your upper arms. Not to get you away from him, but to steady you, you think. To keep you firm in his embrace, and not the other way around.
“Yes. The stitches were remarkably straight. And you managed the flowers without having to redo them.”
You offer a tearful smile.
“I-I read about the flower techniques in the book you gave me about sewing, after I asked for some supplies.”
And is that a smile of his own? Aimed at you, no less? It makes you swallow your tears in the same way Kaveh’s kisses might have done.
“Good. You should always take the time to read the books I give you. It’s better for your education.”
And you, weepy thing, distraught thing, nod again. Yes, Alhaitham. You’re right, Alhaitham.
He does pull away this time, and regards you with a look that might almost be described as pleased.
“Come. We will get you dressed and then you can sit with me while I read.”
And you, wiping at your tears, catching a stray bit of makeup that didn’t come up with the cloth, nod again.
You follow him out the door and pretend not to see the figure of Kaveh in the corner of your eye, watching the two of you warily.
#yandere alhaitham#yandere genshin impact#yandere#afterwitch writes#wrote this mostly on my phone during physical therapy recovery today do dee do
739 notes
·
View notes
Note
pregnant diner waitress reader just has a dirtbag babydaddy, calling her and screaming the whole over the car and her being late.
honestly i hadn’t planned to have her baby daddy in the picture at all but the angst potential here… too tempting to pass up
PART 1 • PART 2
tags: simon x reader x johnny. darkfic. dirtbags. verbal abuse (not by ghost or soap). pregnant fem!reader who still hasn’t realised she’s being actively abducted.
It takes a bit to convince you to let them drive you home.
Your resistance is met with a paradoxical reaction by both men. On the one hand, there’s a warm comfort at the knowledge that you aren’t so easy to take advantage of. Even in your distraught state, you push back against every solution they propose. It is quite a detour, I’d hate to inconvenience you or I’m sure I can get a friend to come out instead. You’re wary, though your exhaustion sways you to assume the best of them, which means that you aren’t quite at the point of flat out refusal.
Otherwise, they – Simon, in particular – simmer in frustration. Red wine in a saucepan, reduced to a stronger version of itself over flame. Bitter. Strong. More insistent: cannae rest easy tonicht knowing we left an expecting hen tae fend fur herself. They poke at the knot until they find a loosening, tugging, tugging, then abandoning it once a more promising end appears.
Eventually, their combined efforts (though most of the credit can be attributed to the sincere, puppy dog look Johnny sports at all times. Hard to resist, even for Simon) dismantle your willpower. You duck your head in a modest thank you and shuffle behind them, seating yourself firmly behind the drivers seat even though you’re offered shotgun, hugging your bag over your belly.
“Do you need me to type in the address on google maps or something?” You say after they pull out of the parking lot.
“Y’were on about Adderford.” Simon meets your wide eyes in the rearview.
��Yeah.”
“Reckon I know the road.”
Simon does know the way, and so does Johnny. Adderford, off of exit A36. Near a polluted lake that was the victim of an attempt to turn the town into an industrial hub. Nothing to show for that, of course – all it has to offer now is a poor quality of life for all those who weren’t fortunate enough to get out.
Yeah. They know the way, and their confidence must set a precedent for the trip. Your anxious fidgeting stops after 10 minutes of driving, and you’re smiling at the nonsensical story coming from the passengers seat a mere 5 minutes later. In the meanwhile, your rationalisation is visible. Simon watches your gaze flicker back and forth between them, then around the car that must feel luxurious next to yours. If they wanted to do something bad to you, then they would’ve already done so. Besides, what kind of delinquents drive a wrangler?
30 minutes in, you’re fast asleep.
They really couldn’t have asked for a better turn of events.
They come up on exit A36 and stick to the middle lane, passing the little sign that points to Adderford being a couple miles out. Past the point of no return, beelining towards the secluded house they’ve made your new home, and you can be none the wiser. Johnny can’t believe their luck, babbling in a hushed voice about how nice it’ll when you to wake up in their bed.
The fantasy loses its grip when your phone rings, blaring from deep within your bag. Panic ripples across your face, jolting you from your sleep as you scramble for the device. The series of events unfolds in far too familiar a way for one of them. Simon – a buried torment wringing around his guts as he listens in.
“H-Hello? Shit. What–” You’re breathless, stuttering. Back to that scared little thing they found by her car, crying. “Please- please calm down.”
And though you try to keep your voice low, they leech on to every word you say. Someone on the other line yells, indistinct insults punching through the mic and landing. You wilt, tucking your lip underneath two teeth, waiting the anger out.
(Tommy donned the same expression those nights when things got bad. Simon remembers hugging him against his chest so he wouldn’t have to face the misery his brother’s countenance wrought.)
“You shouldn’t- I’m sorry, but I thought I c-changed the locks. You’re not allowed to be in… not in my apartment.” More yelling. Soap twists a fist, concoting a hundred different ways he can track whoever it is down. Make them pay for their abuse with their own tongue down their throat. “It’s none of your business- you left…”
“Easy.” Simon whispers to his partner.
“Si.”
“I know, boy.” Perhaps all too well. It gets harder to keep a firm steer over the wheel.
“Don’t accuse me of– my fucking car broke down! You shouldn’t even– fuck! Hello? Hello?” A low scream tears from your throat, prelude to the aggressive shoving of your phone down into back your bag. Trembling fingers press down over your eyes, rubbing until your tears soak into your skin. Ridding of the evidence to your dismay. You suck in large gulps of air, holding them in your chest until it aches, then gasp out equally hefty exhales.
No one speaks for a while. Then–
“I don’t think I should go home right now.”
Too broken for them to feel anything but overwhelming pity. Johnny clicks his tongue, looking over his shoulder so you can latch on to the sincerity that seems to calms you so.
“O’course. Whatever ye need, lass.”
Your frown softens “There’s a motel–”
“Next one’s farther ou’ than our place is. Can’t take you there and back m’fraid.” Simon interjects. Like a record scratch, or sandpaper on an already raw moment. It must make him an awful man to use your earlier propriety against you, but conviction has superseded his desire to act decently.
Sure enough, you visibly blanch, shaking your head and stumbling over your words.
“No! No, of course not. Of course- that was so silly of me to ask. You can, I mean… you can drop me off anywhere, really. I’ll sort t-things out for myself.”
“Not what I meant, pet.”
You don’t catch on. He doesn’t repeat.
Johnny bridges the gap.
“We’ve got a spare bedroom.”
next part
#why do i keep writing these while sleep deprived#i’ll edit tomorrow cba rn ngl#༄dee answers#johnny ‘soap’ mactavish#simon ‘ghost’ riley#simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader x johnny ‘soap’ mactavish#ghostsoap#ghoap#x reader#x female reader#simon riley#John mactavish#ghost#soap#cod#call of duty
721 notes
·
View notes
Text
⭑ — fan meet : park jihyo x fem!reader
☆ warnings! : smut. g!p Jihyo. bottom!reader. top!jihyo. semi public sex. cum dump reader. horny jihyo. medium degradation. just strangers fucking in a storage room. written under the cut!
☆ word count : 826
You’re not entirely sure how this happened. One minute you were sitting down in front of her; meeting her deep brown eyes, her warm smile. Watching the way she laughed happily and chatted with you as she signed your copy of ‘ZONE’.
And the next minute you were half undressed, holding onto a storage rack for dear life as her thick cock pounded ruthlessly inside of you. Okay, so your idol had a cock too. Add that to the list of things you weren’t expecting.
You were trying, and failing, to keep in your moans. Forcing yourself to bite down on your lip at the relentless assault. But god, did it feel good. Jihyo stretched you out perfectly, molding you to the shape of her dick. Your thighs were slick with your own arousal, mixing with the load of cum she had already dumped inside of you.
“Such a dirty girl,” Jihyo growled, grabbing a fist full of your heart as she pounded from behind. “Be quiet. If someone catches us we’re both dead.”
“Suh..sorry..” You whimper, head slightly tilted back now at the sheer voice of Jihyo grabbing it. Her body pressed warmly into yours, fitting like a puzzle piece, and god it made you feel fucking euphoric.
Jihyo scoffed, her hips slapped a little harder against yours. “Yeah i’m sure you are, dirty slut.”
Oh, her degradation has your head spinning.
She yanks your hair softly. “Don’t go nodding off on your idol now, slut." Jihyo bends, her mouth attaching to your neck and biting down enough you think blood will start pouring.
A harsh moan leaves your lips and you shake, trembling and clamping a little tighter around her cock. Jihyo grunts at the action, her cock twitching a bit inside your warm pussy as she rhythmically slaps her hips against yours.
"So fucking tight...like you haven't been touched in years," She pushes a little deeper in, caressing your G-spot. "Don't you worry baby, i'll stretch you out so well..you'll be aching for my cock for weeks after."
Oh, fuck. The way she says that...
"Would you like that, babygirl?" Jihyo tugs your hair again. "Of course you would, because you're my dirty little slut. Aren't you?"
Whimpering, you nod along. "Y-yes.."
Jihyo rolls her eyes and yanks, diving her cock deep inside of you. "Say it like you mean it, whore."
"A-Ah..!" You look at her and blush feverently. "I...I'm you're dirty little slut...and I want you to..stretch me out..."
"Good slut." Jihyo coos, dropping your hair and leaning back up. Her hands fall on your hips and she sets back up her previously rough rhythm, slightly shaking the storage rack as she fucked you silly.
Your moans echoed in the room, despite you trying to stay quiet. That mixed with the sounds of slapping and the grunts Jihyo let escape led to a lewd atmosphere. To Jihyo, it was almost pornographic the way those hips of yours bounces as she rammed in and out, hardly giving you even a second to breathe.
"Ji..Jihyo-" You whine, feeling a sharp knot forming in your stomach. You were close, you both knew that.
Jihyo grunts and rams her cockhead against your half filled womb, wanting to fill you with load after load. And you'd let her, right? You were her little cum dump after all.
"Close," The idol mumbles to you, squeezing your precious hips and digging her nails there. Fuck, the sight of your back was so erotic to her. "So fucking tight..."
Another low whine leaves the back of your throat. You suck air through your teeth and it feels damn near hypnotic. The feeling is absolutely euphoric, and Jihyo just won't stop fucking you deep.
Finally, you both reach the highest peak possible, quietly literally coming with a crash as she slams in again- slightly knocking you against the rack as her warm cum spurts deep into your womb, coating the inside of your cunt and her cock.
"Fuck," Jihyo husks, slowly pulling in and out to fuck you through your orgasm. "My little cum dump...so fucking good."
Your eyes close as you adjust to the feeling of being filled. Jihyo's hand slides from your hip and softly rubs at the dip in your back, sighing aloud. "Take it in, baby."
You nod meekly. "I am.."
"Mm, good." Then, Jihyo slowly slides her throbbing cock out of your leaking pussy. You hear the sound of her clothes rustling, then a zipper of her pants most likely. Pushing up a little deliriously, you turn and lean back against the rack, watching as she adjusts.
Then she looks up at you and smiles, leaning in and pecking your lips. Her hand lands on your hip and rubs softly. "Let's do this again sometime, sweetheart."
You can't help but swoon a bit, nodding along. "Okay.."
You'd be sure to attend the next fan meet too.
#⭑ — dee’s writing#park jihyo x reader#park jihyo#park jihyo smut#park jihyo x fem reader#park jihyo x reader smut#twice smut#twice x reader#twice x fem reader#twice x you#g!p jihyo#jihyo#jihyo x reader#jihyo smut#jihyo x reader smut#reader x jihyo#reader x jihyo smut
768 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay but hear me out!
Dead On Main Revolutionary Ghost Utena AU:
Canonically, Jason focuses his rage to summon the All Blade
Ghost Prince Danny would have the Ring of Rage, but not the Crown of Fire yet
I hypothesize to you that the two are connected, and not only that, but that wearing the ring allows one to draw the All Blade out of the other. Like, literally.
Because of this, summoning the All Blade of their own accord is the mark of a ghost powerful enough to be the ghost king's betrothed, and whatever other ghosts were in the running are pushed back in line as the All Blade wielder is now at the front.
It is part of ancient ceremony that predates Pariah as Ghost King and dates all the way back to the first Royal of the infinite realms, King Lazarus.
The connection itself is no more than a pull towards each other, a fascination at most to make an easier base to build a genuine and in this case, human connection.
To become actually engaged Jason would have to willingly appear before the Ghost Prince and allow him to draw the All Blade out of him, something he is not very excited for and might actually have other lasting impact besides the engagement.
Y'see Jason isn't a halfa the way Danny is, he came back twice in a short amount of time between those two instances, and while the second time was Lazarus induced, no one really knows how he woke up in his grave and broke himself out. There are theories but Clockwork was watching and even he doesn't seem to know for sure, so it's really anyone's guess.
So what the engagement ceremony could do, potentially, is either solidify his halfa status by sheer amount of ectoplasm transfered by the act, or alternatively it could just kill him on the spot and then he'd probably become a full ghost.
Now, neither of these sound great to Jason, but he also doesn't like that a bunch of ghosts have been trying to fight him for their Prince's hand in marriage, something they can only do while the Prince is still not engaged to anyone.
Meanwhile, Danny doesn't appreciate that as soon as he came of age all these marriage proposals started being thrown at him, he's known some of these ghosts since he was a teenager so that's really weird for one, and he gets that most of them are just trying to secure their happiness and not to mention their future safety as the mortal world seems to be moving on with the anti ecto act, which had lead many a specter to retreat back to the realms, causing a lot of unrest as the realms become more crowded and politically tense between factions who have not needed to interact for a while now.
It would seem the Amity portal and even Danny fighting the ghosts and sending them back through it was the break many of the realms' denizens desperately needed, but now with that option no longer being safe, as even their king can't protect them from the GIW when they're gaining so much support from governments across the world, tensions are running high in the realms and it seems that it's every ghost for themselves.
Danny doesn't really resent any of the ghosts for doing what they feel they must to make sure they aren't destroyed in what is shaping out to be a realms wide war at this point, even as he works overtime with his council to prevent that from happening, and he understands they obviously don't expect any actual marital kind of relationship from him, which is at least a little reassuring even if the idea of being married to any of them is still very weird, but he can't help but think there could be a better solution here that he's missing.
And then he feels it, a pull telling him he's overlooked something, someone important.
It's like a fire engulfing his ice core but not burning it somehow, just as it does not cool the fire around it.
Two opposite forces meant to cancel each other out, somehow instead keeping perfect equilibrium with one another.
He talks to Frostbite and Clockwork and finds out what that pull is and takes their advice to follow it.
Jason doesn't realize he just altered the source of all his recent problems to his location as he draws the All Blade to fend off yet another "challenger to the Prince's hand" whatever the hell that means, as finally one of them was dumb enough to try to use actual magic against him.
However, he soon feels the answering pull back from Danny as the latter decides to use the power in his ring to open the portal, feeling that this candidate should at least know he's coming to talk to him.
It's almost the opposite, he feels the fire of the pit madness flaring a bit, but instead of immediately trying to spread, to threaten to consume him unless he tempers it himself, it is still burning just as strong and wild, but kept in one place by an icy chill, an aura of cold, clear fury and calm in equal measure, it doesn't thaw from the fire anymore than his fire dies from the lack of heat around it.
They sustain each other, impossibly.
So Jason and Danny finally meet and give each other the rundown of their side of things and agree that maybe the best bet to not only stop ghosts from attacking Jason and proposing to Danny, but perhaps the key to overthrowing the GIW so the realms' denizens don't have to afterlive in fear and portals can be reinstated to allow travel through the realms and back, not to mention keeping the GIW from going after Jason himself who by their definition is certainly considered an ecto entity, is in fact to go through with the Ring and Blade ceremony.
Jason, at this point, is more of Earth than Danny, who has unfortunately had to step back from his normal mortal life when he turned 18 to take care of realms business, despite still only being Prince.
He was meant to have more time but with the GIW advancing like they had been it was in the realms' best interest as well as his own that he decree the realms going no contact with humans for the foreseeable future.
It's been nearly 3 years since then and they are still getting ghosts back from parts of the world who have been avoiding humans as much as they can.
As soon as he turned 21 all this ghost marriage nonsense has has been making his job of protecting the ghosts in all the realms a lot more difficult, so when ghosts realized he didn't want to be challenged every day for his hand, they went to the next best thing, the top candidate.
Now, Phantom was saying that he's gonna marry the guy they've all been trying to defeat (and failing, to his credit, so at least he was worthy of being top pick)
A lot of them were upset or disappointed, but he explained how this arrangement could potentially help out everyone in the long run and most got on board when they heard the new plan.
Now the only problem is that getting engaged, as mentioned previously, is a ceremony that could prove dangerous to Jason and "not to be insensitive about it, but if you die and become a ghost that sorta defeats one of the main purposes of us even doing this." Danny points out.
"So what's our plan, Your Majesty?" "It's Royal Highness, I'm not king yet, thank the ancients for that." "Yeah yeah, so what are we doing, Your Royal Whinyness?" "Rude. Anyway, there's a chance you might become a full halfa during the process, that means getting a second form and a fully developed core and powers besides the All Blade, which would be better than you dying. So the best way to ensure that outcome, as much as any outcome can be guaranteed anyway, is to start the process of making you a halfa before the ceremony."
"Okay? How do we do that?" "Well, we gotta get some ecto in you - " "aren't you made of that? This better not be a pickup line" "no, not like that! I told you, this marriage doesn't have to be anything more than a contract, I'm about as thrilled about having to get married to save my people as you are about doing this to stop ghost from kicking your ass on a weekly basis." "Excuse me? I won all those fights!" "Yeah, after getting tossed into brick walls 5 times per ghost" "not every ghost tossed me into walls. Box Bitch did throw crates at me tho, that hurt." "Holyshit, Boxy is not messing around anymore huh? Well, makes sense, he's a father now. He doesn't wanna raise his little girl in these conditions. Still glad he lost, but I'm surprised Lunch Lady even agreed to him trying."
So they start Jason on his ecto diet and in the meantime the batfam is brought up to date about everything that's happening and they get to work, Batman gathers the JL to push back on the GIW's fuckery and all of Jason's siblings have an engagement party and a bachelor bash to plan. The girls decide to plan a Bachelorette party for Danny because he deserves to have a break as well.
Jason hates his stupid family, but Danny seems happy to be part of one again after so long, so he sucks it up and plays along.
It's possible that maybe while preparing and planning and helping each other and working together, Jason has gotten to know and developed a fondness for Danny.
Okay so maybe he's a sappy fuck who fell head over heels in love with him in the span of like a month, but this is still just a contract to Danny, and Jason isn't going to push for or expect anything more. Danny doesn't need that kind of stress in his life rn.
Danny has been freaking out since he met his soon to be husband because holyshit that's Red Hood, that is THE Red Hood! No wonder he passed the trial of the All Blade, and the way that fire burned around Danny's core, a fire he now recognized as the warmth answering from Jason's own, made him realize that this is way more than just a contract to him. Still, he'd been part of the realms for a lot longer than Jason ans he was their future king. Jason as part of this contract would be his equal but until the marriage was sealed, he was still technically Jason’s superior. And it didn't feel right to take adventage of that and suddenly change the terms of this deal, to make Jason in any way feel pressured by Danny's own feelings. No, this was just a contract, like Jason wanted it to be. He would keep that promise to him.
Jazz and Babs get together to help their idiot baby brothers figure out their unrequited love is actually very much mutual pining and they're just being stupid.
Anyway the marriage ceremony is a different ritual from the engagement ceremony, the All Blade wielder summons it and presents it to the wearer of the ring, who sheaths it back into the summoner's core, symbolizing that they both have power over the Blade but it belongs to its wielder, and even the king himself may not keep it without permission. The Blade as a manifestation of Jason's will.
(And as a bonus, we know Jason is a literary nerd so he recognizes and appreciates the romance novel tropes happening to him, especially in the high king's court, but he is not a weeb. So I don't think he'd recognize the Utena references happening to him. But you know who I think would? You know who is a weeb who loves swords and is soooo jealous of Todd and his husband right now? It's Damian. Damian's fucking seething that he doesn't get a magic sword. He's so pissed and it's very funny.)
#dee's aus#dee writes#dc x dp#dead on main#ghost king danny#ghost bride Jason#rgu inspired au#mostly just the imagery#very loosley based on Prince Utena and Rose Bride Anthy#this was supposed to be just a silly goofy haha idea but now its got so much lore
503 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
nouveaucrystals
Crystals💜
flubbythefoolish
Flubby
minahjiponnumoi
miNah ji PoNnu moI
yarinnaomi
𝝠̸̷̷𝗗̷̷̸̸𝗢̸̸̷︭𝗥̶𝗔̸̸̷̷፟𝗕̷̷